୧((#Φ益Φ#))୨ @callaghancallaghan@mastodon.social

Working on a project to bring transparency to Facebook advertising in UK general elections: whotargets.me

"damn you all!" cried zuck, smashing the table with his mighty fist. "as a man who has read 25 books, i should not have to suffer the wittering of peasants such as yourselves!"

You ever put so much skin in the game that it turns into a giant fleshy CEO and you end up stuck as a cursed skeleton that's animated by the invisible hand

You wouldn't download a DAD.

JIM WEST

DESPERADO

NO

YOU DON'T

for anyone looking at launching or formalizing co-ops:

co-operatives began at Rochdale in 1844. since 1995, Rochdale's values are comprised of 7 principles of co-operation, keyed to seven colours.

we made this colourful sign for our housing co-op a few years ago. we mounted it next to every dwelling's bulletin board. it's a great daily reminder of why we organise, cultivate, and believe in co-ops.

feel free to copy, print and distribute!

https://mastodon.social/media/F6eT7SoUB1iAUGoUumg

“Now that we’re here, I get to wondering,” he says in an almost whisper, “if in the end it won’t be the brands that end us.”

He’s looking off to the west. You look in that direction, parsing his meaning. Off that way there are more towns. Towns where there are rumors of riots and bandit parties attacking other towns.

It dawns on you, and your mind completes his thought.

“I get to wondering if in the end it’ll be us that end ourselves”

“It took a long time to find this place.”

“We wandered for years, hiding, struggling, being alone. But we heard tales of a place where there weren’t brands. Where they were working on a cure. There was hope here”

He pulls at the hem of his shirt idly as the sun starts to set.

A tiny dust tornado whips up and spins along the ground, tossing dried leaves. The soil here is dry and empty of nutrients from over-farming in the desperate times before. At some point it was declared useless for crops and the town sprouted up. Looking at the dead earth below makes you wonder how long the town, and the people, can survive.

He sits on a bench, in octodon.social. Octodon is a mid-sized town in the confederation.

“Yea, I was there,” he starts, looking at nothing in particular.

“I was there when the brands came to Birdsite” He fidgets a little on the bench, obviously uncomfortable.

“They came, and the people started to turn. Turn into _them_.” He almost spits the word.

“Said they had to curate their personal brands.” His eyes have a deep sadness to them as he looks at the clear sky.

like shitposting