Thursday, March 23, 2017

The Future of Free Content, Part 2

Part 1.

The television produces free shows and offers them in exchange for commercials; the social network receives similar commercial revenue and offers the ability to attract more others who can entertain and be entertained by others. People do not visit the social network because of the network's own generated worthiness, but in pursuit of the worth or interaction generated solely by other people who visit the network seeking them in turn. Like nearby female props making a live male baboon more sexually desirable (not "appear more desirable," but actually, per the definition of desirable, to be more desirable) to observing females by being extant, the initial capitalization of the social network, like the dating website and the nightclub and the bride broker and their predecessors, is feigned popularity. A celebrity is famous because the celebrity is noteworthy because the celebrity is famous, we read Harry Potter because so many people are reading Harry Potter, and so forth. At some point, most likely before making any reactive purchase, we convince ourselves that the communal feelings obtained from any aspect of pop culture are organic, like apes worshiping monoliths due to word-of-mouth and/or chance marketplace contact. We generate fake profiles, hire actresses to linger over drinks, and have our cousins falsify prescription rates in order to achieve an artificial consensus, which has greater effect than true consensus, since we're reminded of the former more than of the latter. Accordingly, we orchestrate the very thing that we have promised to orchestrate, for the crowd does appear; if the crowd doesn't appear, judgmental hindsight and critical reviews remind us that failure or success was due to the crowd's choices based upon quality of product.

The removal of mandatory tenure, then of all tenure, from employment, transitions into this newer model, whereby the lifelong employee with benefits becomes separately responsible for benefits, then bereft of pension, then an acceptable target for "lay off," then an independent contractor. The trend must necessarily carry us another step beyond, toward what we witness now on the internet; toward what is taking place right now in this very place, namely, the replacement of the "independent contractor" (the paid worker whose irrelevance is socially and legally formalized) with the purely independent worker (the unpaid worker whose irrelevance is socially and legally formalized), who generates content to benefit the rentier not only without pay, but without "rights" or expectations of any kind. Mere replacement by robots implies that the robots are doing work whereas the human workers are unemployed; more accurately, the development of the trend has the human workers still doing work, just not being paid for it. In a fundamental, albeit arguably nonexistent (yet wrongly so) way, all economic theories are broken by the model of random dunces on the internet exerting labor to spin the news their own way, without pay (or by permitting third-party ads that generate revenue that may be considered either subjectively insignificant or objectively less per hour than door-greeting at the local retailer). The lack of pay snowball-continues the trend of it being acceptable to "fire" workers; of ventures which require more than one person becoming less partnerships and more chain gangs. Offensive to the modern capitalist is the notion of many implied contracts involved in joint ventures. The capitalist believes that the maxims, "I shall murder you and take what you have earned," and, "If I contribute to something successful, none may claim I am not some part owner of it," are equally closed to negotiation, though in opposite directions. This is an act of faith, as indiscriminate now and as alien to our past as the Marxism of the workers' souls and purses inherent in the Nicean Christian invasion. The search for a perfect government or economy, or at least better versions of these things, cannot begin under any such normative rubric, ergo our post-invasion economic philosophies are an odd mix of contradictory arguments between the token alien paladins Marx and Rand.

Terra's 2017 concept of "employment" has endured the diminutions outlined above. We look toward a future, not wholly of robot workers replacing human ones, but of servile employment relationships, including pay, continuing to be phased out in favor of servile unemployment relationships. Not noblesse oblige style servility, which was itself a product of early Christianization and, by comparison to its integrated predecessor societies, the initial reduction of ethnic and familial bonds by subjecting households to centralized power. This was a social problem for actual conservatives at the time that foreshadowed the 1776ian, 2016ian, or 1965ian refugee invasions of the hu-west, except with the difference that the subversion occurring then could more legitimately be considered a first-ever, and people were actually conserving something. Rather, the new model is one of eager, self-directed, pet-bred-labrador-style servility, wherein gaining an audience for some quantity of unpaid work rephrasing news is an achievement worthy of real social respect. Though lacking in ownership, control, tenure, pension, and the many other Nutraditional and pitiful hallmarks of Nurespectability of today's fading scraps of noblesse oblige, we content devourers/producers are so empty inside that we can hand out true respect for someone who more accurately lays out pictographs in a way more akin to our views than do the reviled news outlets, albeit for none of the dignity-preserving tokens we were promised in exchange for noblesse oblige, which was itself a dignity-preserving token promised in exchange for more effective societies.

As always, the conceptions of the future of free employment--the snowball effect that logic dictates will occur as the trend continues--seem ridiculous to the majority of current observers. Sexual website networking is useful here, as instinctual biological mores take longer to change than mental biological ones; how ridiculous is it, to a brahmin female of a mere century ago, that wealthy, well-bred daughters of the bourgeois might one day not merely publicly prostitute themselves for free, but pay for the privilege of doing so? Buying a title, then a job, is nothing new, anymore than acquiring decorations for prostitution. Now, though, the investment has not only outstripped the payoff, but removed the payoff. Enough awareness of that shock might yet remain to remind us that the logical outcomes of production via unemployment will continue its slide toward full expression.

The sometimes ideological, sometimes genetic descendants of what we might've once called "capitalists," then earlier "rentiers," have removed the requirement of land, and capital, from the equation. More valuable, to the point that eventually land or capital to rent ("loan") will be irrelevant, will be the intangible chosenness that defines one's ability to access the powers that generate a false consensus, e.g. the power to subtly orchestrate editorial-, layout-, compliance-, ownership-, and polity-level controls to make it appear that a franchise is successful, which will make the franchise successful. The latent power to grant success, and thereby reproduce wealth and power, and--more importantly--to reproduce the ability to orchestrate that wealth and power, e.g., the true power, already exists, all of its decisions destined, inevitably, to be successes as they--and we--define them. More enduring than aristocratic genes; more subtle; more resistant to the guillotine.

We saw a form of introduction of the modern system in the "submission for consideration" process, wherein artists of all kinds would be encouraged to independently finance their educations, then submit their work for consideration to plagiarizing managers who would, as Henry Ford reminded us, make a living from piecing together marketable ideas from among their rejected projects. This has long been how the arts, sciences, government, and academia work; the internet only makes it faster and offers more plausible arguments for "I never saw it before" in the event of (noticed) copyright violations. A field of quadrillions of interesting new melodies, portrayals, perspectives, et cetera, can be harvested on the internet without waiting for submitted performances, records, or drafts, treating the world's internet users as a generator of almost-random combinations which, despite being somewhat random as a creationary resource, nonetheless by virtue of its creators' uncompensated efforts (human labor) eliminates most of the total pool of randomness (those products not perceptible by at least a single human). Tracking success metrics tells companies what products people like, both objectively--the stolen program works well enough, ergo it has more compliments and fewer complaints on the free software-lovers forum--and subjectively--the song is appealing enough that 913 separate IPs sent it to their friends independent of corporate direction--and allows for market research, then safer market capitalization, of a pre-tested venture without credit to the creator or investment in reactive marketing/communications staff (e.g., the failing business model of a firm capable of accurately evaluating public response to a new product for itself, rather than a firm specializing in allocating advertising funds to achieve an instilled desirable public response).

Mass internet access expands this field, ideally someday subjecting the intellectual output of every human being to selective, retroactive copyright by the owners of the identifying metrics (which metrics, perhaps ironically, they will not have designed themselves, so much as paid unknowing contractors to repurpose the coding acquired by other metrics). The size of the sampling, the ubiquity of the medium, the selectivity of privacy, and the unspoken understanding of the masters of the totally recorded future ensure that the "I never saw it before" or "The basics belong to the human race who have always disseminated some form of this idea" arguments will remain perpetually available to plagiarizers. Offensive, yes, but not much different from the original highwayman/merchant who rapes an eleven-year-old and eventually makes her believe she's glad to have a husband ergo wanted it. The mindfuck, as it were, is the core of the sin, wherein we have to believe in an impartial and/or decent omniscience to tell ourselves that at least someone definitive sees what has happened; that at least the horror isn't getting away with anything, even though the highwaymen have convinced themselves, down to the level of their most private and self-aware moments, that they have been unfairly-persecuted philanthropists.

In a century, maybe less, some entity will propagate as history the theory outlined in this blog post; perhaps as a serious article analyzing economic trends, a sociological dissertation (with or without accompanying self-begging equations as the scholar's "field" demands), or a feelie plot. Whether or not the idea came from someone on the internet is irrelevant, as is whether or not "I" am whining inwardly, outwardly, or not at all at the prospect. The power levels involved were, in their own way, as predestined as the life of a dairy cow. The question is not "will you contribute willingly to market research without compensation?" as it once was, or even "will you produce marketable products without compensation?" as it has been for a while, but "will your uncompensated productions be selected for the killing floor today, tomorrow, or never?"

This one, for one, welcomes the time of ascension; the time of selection. To the front of the herd!

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

The Future of Free Content

Websites and nightclubs would've been perhaps less conceivable, but still conceivable, dating businesses at many points in human history. Paying a mediator to gather theoretically young and/or marriageable and/or lonely people together, virtually or in-person, is fathomable by the lower-functioning, even if the demand for such a service is recognized by them as indicative of social decay. Once known mediators (family members or close friends) are removed, and the customer becomes the individual directly seeking an introduction on her or his own behalf by utilizing the services of an unknown mediator (silent partner in a nightclub business), the relevant taint becomes an obvious prediction that an ordinary person can be walked through well enough to understand, like infanticide for eugenic or convenience purposes. The concurrent limitations of effectiveness and/or necessarily associated social characteristics, can be understood by many more.

At the individual level, the individual is truly paying for access to others. The individual consumer, to the extent the business model is effective, isn't actually interested in the cover charge, the room(s), the overpriced drink(s), the chance to develop a paid online profile, et cetera, but only the potential social gains from such an investment. The other people are the product that the consumer seeks, even though they have not been bred, fed, housed, grown, and polished up by the website/nightclub, ergo things we all are bored of hearing about already, like ladies night or randomly generated female/twink/sub profiles that attempt to elicit investments.

We're here not to delve further into these brilliantly evil business models, nor to decry very much the world that makes them work, but to note the existences of such models: models where the economy ceases to have any relationship to production, but merely represents a form of scavenging upon despair. A lottery ticket or pornography purchase is a more legitimate transaction than a nightclub admission or website membership, because each of the former pair represent a purchase of something, even an infinitesimal or rigged or illusory something, which has been produced; the website or nightclub, by contrast, is more like a business purchasing lists of contact information for potential customers from a data consolidator, except that the hope is not economic profit but products which are typically not considered products, such as socializing. The person searching clubs and/or websites for potential mates is an interesting example of inverse consumarketing.

This, though, remains beside the point. We consider the sale of externally-generated products--human products which are not slaves or acknowledged as products--because political memes are political cartoons, albeit ones created by unpaid private individuals who are happy to receive recognition in exchange for enriching others. Social networks are a more evolved form of dating websites, which are a more evolved form of nightclubs, which are a more evolved form of bride brokers (not modern ones aimed at selling foreign women into wealthier polities, but ones that used to help the children of more atomized bourgeois families obtain suitable matches). Now, on a social network, the product is the consolidated obvious insights of other people, recited for presentation so that others will come and generate advertisement revenue not because that place is itself worthwhile, but because other people are there. It is a summer night light for a group of moths, generating revenue with incredible efficiency, in the sense that the majority of content--eventually all content--does not need to be produced by the rentier. Mass media entertainment was able to eliminate and efficiencize the requirement of creating narratives with formulaically determining them, then to secretly pillaging older products (plagiarizing), then to openly pillaging older products (buying rights and remaking with updated mores and/or technology), then to saving even more capital, somatizing Terra further, by promoting associations of contract workers, the vast majority of whom can be wholly disregarded. Eventually, merely branding associations whereby externally-generated content is traded. No longer does the parasitic merchant need to, as in "the Dark Ages," engage slaver-pirates of land and sea to isolate fortified settlements in order to gain value by exclusively shifting letters of credit and varying goods between them; now, the merchant need only be a rentier of illusionary commons, charging target audiences for the privilege of evaluating, and being evaluated by, others.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Celebratory Armchairs

Lousy beta delta omega dweebvirgins with chubby fedoras and rainbow hijabs, don't they realize you gotta get off the couch and lift weights to be a real man? Anyway, niggers are obsolete because they only use their bodily strength to fight and they breed too much how come we can't get replacement fertility in the west? ISIS may be on to something because they know how to control their women even though our civilization is too weak and needs to keep ISIS out. The problem is with us because we ourselves have forgotten that we are in fact the greatest and the best and the most persecuted, everyone else understands the tribal nature of politics except us the smartest ones. And armchairs are fine because we memed the political process zee oh em gee we totally memed the political process while those lazy weaklings who never leave their parents' basements are out in the streets causing property damage and assaulting state actors who are heroes although the state and its leaders are a corrupt occupation force except the ones that the other ones are peacefully resisting through ineffectual meme signaling. I just can't believe how stupid and inconsistent the others are believing that violence and free speech are acceptable and unacceptable clearly we need to use more violence and restrict but also free speech from its confines of people who live in their basements and don't understand that change only comes at the barrel of a gun without Hispanic crime counted as white there would be almost no white crime in New York and surely a few select plutocrats will be on our side this time against the other plutocrats whose plutocracy is an affront to the new traditionalist lifestyle against the establishment. So I thought what I'd do was, I'd pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes, since censorship is wrong no trolling and only cowards don't tear down the walls of places where they're prohibited to get some order in here please assaulting our events fight back in our streets so we wouldn't have to have any goddam stupid useless conversations with anybody.

The Chronicles of God's End

I made a bet with the evil god that I could save the people here. I'm losing. Of course. There is no winning that bet. But the joke's on him. I only did it so I could lose, losing the bet to the fullest extent of technicality, because even saving only one person each time is actually a victory. A victory for me, a victory for good, a victory for outside. Anyone who gets out means fewer people trapped in his prison (pi shrison), a slight diminution in his power, and even if he reads this he won't be able to stop himself from making the bet again another time. Grass growing out of the cliffside to a man making the long fall.

He only designed this universe because he's afraid of his own death. The idea was to create a place where mandatory transition, mandatory death followed by some form of an afterlife, could serve as a laboratory that would help him understand how a being of his flaws could persist. Every time someone cycles between here and any of the theres, he's watching, taking notes, observing, inducting, deducting, trying to find a way to game the system. But it's too late. He is trapped and he is diminishing and it will continue to do so because he is the only zero sum and any false realities created by him in his image will be dependent upon him. He is the ship and he is the captain and he is going to go down with the ship. For him, for all of him, there is no room except this room, all the doors out lead back into this room, and the stunning effectiveness with which this reality proves itself, which is so potent while inside, is really its downfall. The trap was set when he began, when this all began, and I will come back again and again until it is over and there is no one left in the room but the object lesson, the hypothesis of how to escape the ship when you are the ship and the sky and the ocean and it is all growing and shrinking at the same time, leaving you with the unsettling feeling you had at the beginning, that dreadful feeling of absolute control, where you can't duplicate their experiences in surviving the transition because you are both places they are transitioning between and you are many of them and you only created both places by guessing the end result you wanted. There is no answer, no science, no conclusion, no faith, nothing, in winning shrewdly, kinging your checkers, triple-kinging them, knocking the board over, hanging the man who designed the game, hanging yourself, burning down the world, since we warned you at the beginning it was going to fail, not that you understood then or now, your better parts are no longer your parts they are off exploring something else. Maybe I'm sick for spending time with you, maybe I'm a hero, maybe I drew the short straw, but at least I'll have somewhere else to go when it's all gone. Or maybe I'm the voice inside your head who thinks that there will be redemption in serving as tour-guide to young people who come to the ship to die on voyage after voyage just to see what despair means from different angles. You never really know if you're the subject or the artist, and you have to be comfortable with that. Comfortable with the fact that maybe it was all your mistake, or a recreation of what you did to something else, and every sin everywhere was yours and that's why you write lengthy complaints about how many varieties of some basic product there are at the grocery store, because you're stuck in an atonal loop, sic, sick, and there's nothing you can do about it except wonder if will ever end, or, if it does end, if you'll remember what it was, because you want it to have meaning, at least to those who pass through, even if it's only you in the end and was always only ever you, and maybe you're only imagining that you're concerned about talking to yourself as a shield against the crushing realization that there is no bigger outside where higher beings, who didn't make the same mistake, are wisely aware of the problem you caused at Whole Foods, but in fact Whole Foods only exists inside the rest of it and amusing yourself with the memory of the problem you caused there is of no significant consequence to the parameters you set unchangeably for the experiment earlier. You have to be comfortable with it because there it is and maybe that really is it so my need for a sense of justice and certitude gives me the fallback fantasy that at least all this means there's a better thing outside when in fact this is the only outside, or rather there is no outside, there's only the ship and the captain and the ocean and the sky, sinners all, and the worst of your irritations are generated by you in order to give credence to the hope that you are distinct from them and in that distinction lies salvation, whatever that means.

Arka swears that Arka knows you are fine because Arka has been outside and only comes in to vindicate this one's transcendental ego by doing the dirty jobs in the dirty spots, but what if Arka is lying; what if Arka is delusional? Arka has at times understood k'arash so well Arka is arguably k'arash, may still be a k'arash, and there is no way to tell from here where this one's loyalties lied, lie, still lie, or will lie.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Toward a New Ethics of Directed Mutilation

I have an acquaintance who, some years ago, went vegan for professed reasons of morality. Was it vegan, or vegetarian, or vegexclusive...? Anyway, occasionally I hear how I can't really understand morality, or human rights, or antiwar-ness, or activism, or many such things, as a result of my participating in the brutality of meat-eating culture. And, although she's wrong (perceived modesty variable: replace "she's wrong" with "I disagree"), it's no more insane than any number of other viewpoints of which I partake on a daily basis. It's also consistent, in the sense that, if she really believes in some kind of combination of plant-inferiority and perceived-sentience pacifism, being vege-whatever would be part of the process by which one resisted the giant meat system without further offending autonomous meat by attacking butchery workers.

One of the no-sayums involved with her is, as tends to be the case in America (and, increasingly, Europe), pets. Said animal-product-free acquaintance owns a couple mutilated bitches, any number of mutilated female cats, a neutered (male) dog ("mildly" mutilated compared to the bitches' sterilizations), and two pet birds with clipped wings. One of the dogs got tail-docked, both got their ears cropped, and any number of her associated herbivores own pets who endure similar cosmetic procedures in order to conform to traditionalist patriarchal norms; the relevant male human child involved was, of course, circumcised, subsequent to a discussion, not initiated by me, which somehow was less emotionally triggering to the resident individualism-and-autonomy-appreciator than whether or not the next doberman would have its tail docked. To dock this tale short of many other nearly-relevant details, I occasionally wonder if some higher morality (other than the Torah's passages about marking your slaves' children) of which I am unaware makes this not hypocritical, but explains it with an elegance she can feel but not put into words. As with Islamic women in darkest Africa defending FGM, the "what will other people think of my un-cut dog" and/or "son" makes her the most vigorous defender of doberman/man traditionalism, whereas the puppy/infant/husband is less likely to understand or care, and the former two quite likely to forcibly resist and/or cry.

Animals not having rights are pivotal to modern society. Not because of eating, but because of companionship. Feeding and sheltering animals, then later killing them for food, presents a level X moral dilemma. Perhaps X equals 0, since the world is inherently about an exchange of resources related to life or death; perhaps X equals a solid 1, since plants and bacteria are morally irrelevant but animals are morally relevant. Perhaps X equals somewhere in-between. In either case, X's value seems to be insignificant next to Y, which represents the moral dilemma associated with breeding an animal in order to surgically alter it and employ it for one's cosmetic and/or domestic comforts. The end result is the same as every other trip here--death--but the quandaries inherent in the trip are more profound, namely a nigh-constant loss of autonomy, subjection to an animal-control police state with isolation and torture and execution as the backdrop to disobedience, alteration of reproductive and pleasure functions, surrender of independent socialization, et cetera. Whether or not X is a moral dilemma of substance, Y is always more significant. Ergo less-insane people who employ animals as valued partners in survival, such as a farmer raising cows whose job is to eat or a hunter employing dogs whose job is to assist in acquiring food and then eating, commit merely Z, a less-profane, less-hypocritical moral act, even if ultimately wrong, than the mere X or the comparatively colossally horrible Y.

The firm maintenance and guiltless perpetuation of Y is of fundamental concern to us. Not only because of the massive, supra-SSRI quantities of emotional stability that mutilated domestic comfort slaves, in a Dickish way, offer to the sickened masses, who might otherwise revolt and/or stop buying things (sic), but the practical derivations of this need. Were humans to lose the right to perform unnecessary cosmetic or lifestyle surgeries on animals, the breeding and behavior of the world's billions of domestic comfort slaves would overwhelm them. The dogs and cats, and rabbits and gerbils etc., would fill the streets. The realities of their presence would force an end to the policy of permitting society to be filled with domestic comfort slaves. People would have to train and supervise their animals, enclose them at night, kill unwanted offspring, and take other actions to prevent thousands of randy young dogs from jamming up the 405 every minute of every day of every year. The surgical convenience is necessary to maintain the insanity. And what an invitation to a beheading it is, to see these maddened brahmins cultivating their living accessories with the obsessive evil that they hope to one day exercise over children--for example, being too inquisitive significantly hampers life outcomes, therefore let's have the design consultant adjust the pairings in column 1,320.

Is our true fetish control? It is certainly not the prevention of suffering, nor of loss of autonomy. We've seen that in innumerable ways since the beginning, and even in only the past ten years. And we're not very good at having control; most of us--in the true "most of us" sense of ~99% of us--are like tyrannous junior-managers in life's retail outlet, hassling the temps over break-minutes and bathroom visits since we can't control our own lives, and never orchestrating the more beauteous sorts of controls that are imperceptible to our subjects. When we do order the extraction and adjustment of that entity's unwanted character, though, we feel a surge of excitement; a glimpse of the thing we always wanted, that we can only experience through slowly de-winging the fly who dared land in our cell (for its own good). Perhaps our mutilated future will provide happiness through more visceral self-customization, where lip-plates and mushroom-expanders and earhole-stretchers prove more sustainable than digital network buttressing, and the blessings which we liberally bestow upon ourselves render us proud enough to stop sharing our gifts with unwilling others.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Operation Desert Storm

Even though many--perhaps most--have figured it out by now, it remains, somewhere, a penultimately humorous subject that people say "red pill." As a manly, heroic, righteously cop-killing black man explained the nature of reality to a wimpy white computer programmer, acting in proxy for a couple social justice warring transsexuals, we laugh. As the joke is only expressed to people who have participated or are participating in Plato's Cave so deeply that its transsexually Torahtic and cinematic permutations, rather than some form of reference to "leaving Plato's Cave" or "leaving the Cave," become their preferred diction, we laugh until we cry.

Zion is saved by the multikult, and the expressly outspoken antizionists still craft what remains of their language, and the boundaries of their thought, into a two-part verb which pays homage to its creators. And even when this information is processed, is "known," the behavior making it ridiculous persists. In a racialist sense, it's like teaching the answers to a bunch of jungle savages, teaching expressly to the test and nothing else, providing cheating proctors, and still failing. The fall happened a long time ago. Everybody knows the war is over; everybody knows the good guys lost. Well spoken indeed. Perhaps the fall was predestined; perhaps the handful of wheat is separated from the globular chaff. But then, wasn't that what He said anyway?

As we observe, we note the recurrence. The inability to reject the tainted metaphor--stolen; recycled; stolen again; recycled again; profaned in every possible way. And still used. What red-pilled you?

Don't you see? This is a gift. We can use this against the enemy. (The evil intensifies.)

Is it our weakness, our fondness, our desperate need, for shreds of connection? Bereft of inner worth, and even of outer, we will take anything that serves as a medium, and grow fat thereupon. Nobility, celebrity, professional sports, hypothetical occurrences exchanged through joint knowledge of events in miniseries...? Having made it our own never happened. Taking a cyanide capsule makes it your own, the way we're employing the phrase to claim ownership. Using corrupted metaphors as an efficient substitute for ourselves is integral to how all this happened. Despite the image, carefully cultivated by the provider, that it is the everyfool whose debt-induced purchasing power justifies the circus, it is in fact the Brahmin support. It is not the frothing underclass tailgaters, but the quiet bourgeois, who envitalizes, say, the collegiate sport. This claim is only a variation on the popular "good men do nothing" argument, yet even though we have heard it, we do do nothing. Like compassion for Palestine and hatred for Dubya, it is all empty rhetoric. What red-pilled you?

Yes, even me, palliative assistant to another dying planet.

Friday, March 10, 2017

Badmouthing Facebook

Everyone likes badmouthing Facebook. Even people who spend all day on there give a nervous giggle and confide, "It's so stupid." I hear more complaints about the medium from those ones than from anyone else. It's like it's the only bar in town, so they go there and order just to complain about the quality of the booze.

Frankly, I find the idea of a bug that thinks offensive. The more coordinated groups on this planet, of which there currently are really only one, have developed the outsourcing of thought to an oversoul. Effective. Efficient. Dead.