Verification was designed to align users verified to the platform’s interests, as well as prevent or defer libel issues. See: Tony LaRussa being impersonated on Twitter. That’s all that was for.
I kept picking at it, over the years, because it was a meaningless feature of a service that was easily falsifiable. Follow the rules to the letter, apply, see what happens.
Everybody fuckin’ failed.
The systems don’t work. There is no actual quality control. The entire fucking thing is run by barely-briefed contractors.
For the past six months, I’ve been fighting TikTok Support. I get an error. It is very specific:
Hysterically, after 16 straight days of the ID Uploader not working, when it did, I got auto-denied.
I have been back-and-forth with Support. At one point, I was denied Verification— mostly without asking, or cause— six times, in a 2-3 day period.
I’m done.
Not worth fighting for.
I’ve always strove to stand up for myself. When I thought I deserved something, or was eligible for something, I said so. I continued. I persevered.
This is fucking bullshit. I’m not even saying, ‘oh, look at me, I’m so great, I can pee upon a tree’. I’m saying, I just got off 47 denials from Twitter, and my applications have only strengthened.
I have interviews. I have been quoted alongside celebrities. Multiple times! I was fighting alongside a Wachowski sister and LUCY FUCKIN’ LAWLESS on some of this shit! My name sits next to ROGER WATERS on a petition! I GOT MENTIONED IN THE SAME BREATH AS KING GIZZARD AND THE LIZARD WIZARD!
I’m not saying that I’m special.
I’m not saying that I’m better than you, or anyone.
I’m saying that these Verification systems do not work.
I am also saying, and I do not say this to be a pest, but these things just don’t fuckin’ work for trans people. I am a trans people.
LinkedIn, I’m verified. Can’t show it because it’d show my legal name. No protection for stage names? The fuck?
On TikTok it gets auto-declined now… for some reason, I don’t know. But if it’s because my legal name doesn’t match my stage name?
Why?
The fuck? I know I’m not an actor, but other people don’t have this problem. And I shouldn’t, either.
The Rule, not the Exception
I’m not asking for special treatment.
I am asking that the rules, as stated, apply to me, as they apply to others. Equally.
But this doesn’t happen. I have, in fact, seen the opposite: the rules are only applied to punish me, never to uplift me.
People online often want to make fun of others, saying that they’re ‘melting down’ and/or that their anger is hysterical. I’m here to say the following: I want the rules to be enforced, and applied.
I understand that being on the spectrum may have influenced my strong sense of Justice. But, also, for the love of fucking CHRIST, how am I supposed to take you motherfuckers seriously when you demand authority and then never fulfill your end of the bargain?
The Evidence
I’d like to make my case. Not because I’m pleading the court for mercy, but because I’m done and this is it, Luigi. I’m done trying.
I have:
A stable, well-cited Wikipedia page.
A Google Knowledge Panel.
I’m verified on YouTube.
I was verified on Twitter.
I’m on Spotify, Apple Music, and every major digital platform for music.
I’ve had my music played on the radio.
I’ve published a music album, with its own record label.
I have written and published a book, art book, and comic book.
I have animated my own cartoon short. I composed the music for it, too.
I was on every Western major broadcast news network.
I have been the subject of five academic articles, two or three of which, God help us all, discussed if I had a penis. Yeah, I don’t know, either.
Just to give you a break here: again, I’m not saying, ‘look at me, I’m Mr. Big Dick, why aren’t you respecting my authority?’. I’m saying, I’m genuinely fuckin’ baffled, dude. If I can’t get Verified through these forms, DO THE FORMS EVEN WORK?
Also, respectfully: as a person doing the right thing, does anybody even care? Is anybody gonna help me? I’ve been out here fighting alone for over 30 years. Why isn’t anyone giving me the sympathy, empathy, and compassion I’ve afforded them?
I’m not asking for the world. I’m asking that the world plays by the rules it’s set.
Let’s continue.
I have enough press. I have a solid decade of press. Things I’ve done have been written about by every single major news outlet: Barron’s, The New York Times, the Financial Times, Bloomberg, Vice, NBC, ABC, CBS, UPN, you pick a service, something I’ve done has been covered on it.
My art, though stolen, has either appeared in or been an inspiration for elements appearing in various Hollywood and media productions.
I’m not so much asking, ‘why aren’t you verifying me?’.
I am now asking, why are you pretending that these forms work? They clearly do not.
As I prepare for my future, I have a question. What, exactly, out of all of this, can I trust?
Not a lot.
Reddit
Reddit genuinely cannot be trusted. My posts were edited without my consent; I was then banned twice for posts I did not make, and, the cherry on the top of this Shit Sundae™ is that I was permanently suspended for reporting revenge porn that people on a certain subreddit were posting at a woman, with the posters’ intentions of making her kill herself.
As if this were not enough, I was given access to Reddit Pro, a year of Reddit Premium/Gold (I think by an admin, perhaps just to mock me), right after I was permanently banned; then I was invited to an online conference, with the promise that I would receive a Snoo plushie afterwards. When they asked me if I wanted it, and I said yes, they declined. This is perhaps the only thing I’m actually hurt about.
Following that, I contacted Support through Reddit Pro, which was escalated to three people pretty high up in Reddit’s administration, and they just ghosted me after my appeal was denied.
Given that I’m actually going to end up being famous in this worst-case scenario after I give a televised speech (and the better end to this would simply to become rich and not-famous), and given that my words are going to have a certain weight to them for the rest of my life following this speech, Authentication and Trust are prime in my online dealings.
Reddit’s data seems easily-altered and its support is nonexistent and/or hostile to me.
Final verdict: No
Twitch
Functionally it’s probably the best, and I have no real problem with it. It may be useful.
Final verdict: Acceptable
YouTube
Useful. YouTube fucked me out of some money, but, in general, it’s a utility more than anything else. I can’t really hate it.
Final verdict: Yes, Main
Twitter
It’s getting better, but I have no respect for the idea of it. It’s fun, though. I’ve styled it to look like Arcadium. It makes me feel better.
Final verdict: Yes, Main
Facebook
Final verdict: No
Pinterest
Final verdict: No
Bluesky
Increasingly useful.
Final verdict: Yes, Main
TikTok
I’m very angry at its support. The app, however, is fun, but I do not intend on using it for anything until after I’m famous again.
For so long, I wanted to do something. That something was First Contact.
The idea was, I would get to do something really amazing, really fun, and then. I would have the spotlight. Everybody would have to see me.
This morning I get woken up and told to google UFO news. So, an ex-CIA operative, or somesuch, confirmed basically everything I’ve been saying. It’s in the news.
And I was happy.
For a second.
Uh oh.
The problem with being right is that people think that you have some sort of moral authority to lead. The closer I get to this, the more I realize that I’m going to be put in charge of something. The more that people realize that I know— I’ll just say it right now, there are people who are starting to realize that I’m telling the truth.
That’s bad.
That’s bad because I don’t want this.
All I wanted was to see a space alien again. One particular space alien.
I didn’t want fame. I didn’t want fortune. I didn’t want to ‘be known’.
Because it fucks your SEO up. It fucks my SERP up. It fucks up everything that I want— I’m this close to having a Wikipedia page. I don’t want that.
I’ve spent so long trying to get Verified that I didn’t realize that the very act of being Verified, not only is the antithesis of who I am (I knew that, but), but that… it places me in a position that I don’t want to be in.
I never wanted ‘power’. I wanted power over the course that my life took, and it had nothing to do with being puppeted by various different human interests.
The day is coming that I’m going to be believed, fully, and the best thing I can do is get the fuck out of the way and dodge before they put a leash on my neck. That leash being responsibility.
Not my circus. Not my monkeys.
There was a time that I wanted to help.
But I ain’t gonna be humanity’s bitch.
The next step is to figure out how to escape.
Escape will make me not God, but it’ll definitely make me happy.
I have to admit, my feelings are hurt more than I’d like, but less than I expected.
Reddit is all kinds of fucked up. Recently, I got CC’d into an e-mail thread with 3 heavy hitters who work at Reddit, and I asked about my ban. For those still playing at home, I was banned because a drama subreddit mass-reported me (I believe), because I told them that what they were doing, while they were harassing a woman, was a felony.
So Reddit banned me for that.
A year and some change later, I managed to somehow become a verified publisher in Reddit’s system. I’m not particularly sure how that happened; I’m also not sure how I was entered into Reddit’s Reddit Pro system and given a year’s worth of Reddit Gold (now Reddit Premium), directly after the ban, but I just figured that was Reddit’s admins fucking with me.
So, interestingly enough, even after being told by 3 people working at Reddit to submit an appeal, it was denied.
This is the end of this road. Obviously, they could still change something— I don’t suspect that this would get escalated to people of their level, without an actual resolution— but if this is it, I accept it.
And I also accept that I will not be doing business with Reddit ever again, in any way, shape, or form. I will not be helping them in the future.
I think it’s actually kind of better that I get to tell this story forever.
This is, amazingly, not really what it looks like in reality.
I used to think that I was going too far when I was complaining about things that happened to me online. Then I talked about it in a therapeutic environment, and the reality is, I’m not keeping grudges. I’m writing a diary entry. I’m talking about something that happened, and it hurt. It really hurt me.
So, after I got permabanned from Reddit for telling people that they were committing a felony (they were harassing a woman by posting revenge porn of her), I got signed up for Reddit Pro. I’m not sure how it happened. (Tonight, also, Reddit gave me the ability to sign up as a verified publisher. What the fuck. I’m still permabanned.)
Then the e-mail came.
I got invited to a Reddit conference.
A stuffed animal was promised after the conference.
So I went.
The conference ended. They sent me an e-mail to place my order for it. I placed my order for it. And I waited.
And they said, cheerfully, no.
No.
In my civilization…
… offering a stuffed animal to someone and then saying no, cheerfully, is akin to a mortal sin. It’s the sort of purposeful hurtfulness that makes you never talk to someone again.
Of course, everyone who’s ever hurt me has some sort of excuse. It’s never anyone’s fault: it’s always just an oopsie woopsie, fucky-wucky, here and there, and nobody ever takes responsibility for anything.
And I get part of that. I get that Reddit’s systems maybe don’t talk to each other. I get that, when I contact various levels of support, that maybe there’s no one person who can solve my problem. I can be understanding.
But I hate you. I really do. I hate that you gave me hope, and that you offered me something that I liked, and I went… oh, that’s nice. I’d like to get that.
And then you just… cheerfully denied it.
There’s a lot of bad shit that social media services have done to me. There’s a history of things, and I’m well-aware that, in a lot of different businesses, there might not be one person who’s fucking everything up. The system itself is woefully incompetent, and people get their feelings hurt.
But I still won’t ever forgive you. Because I’ve already gotten famous 16 or 17 times, and even if I wasn’t about to stumble blindly into it for love again, I’d end up getting famous another time, and I’d have some chucklefuck asking me for an AMA. And the answer is no.
I don’t even know what the fuck I was trying to do anymore.
A couple of days ago I got invited to a Zoom call / conference with Twitter’s leadership. Or something— lord knows I’m not going to open the e-mail to verify what the fuck it actually said. Oh, hell, let’s avoid libel: it said specifically that ‘the X team’ (whatever the fuck that is) would be headlining the conference.
To my knowledge, there was no audience participation. My read on it was it was a sales call, if I’m using that terminology correctly. The e-mail I received had the salutation of, “Dear Valued Advertiser”. What?
In any case, I went there. They were five minutes late. Shit was boring, so I dipped.
And then, days later, I get an e-mail:
As we mentioned during the session, we’d love your feedback—please send any thoughts to [non-public e-mail].
As a special thank-you for attending, we’ll expedite your application to Premium Business—an exclusive offer just for you.
… Premium Business? That’s the Gold Checkmark.
Huh.
It’s not ‘an exclusive offer’ just for me. That’s bullshit. This is a sales e-mail.
But then I stew in that for a second, and I go, ‘let’s ask if it’s free.’ Because, I know it’s not gonna be free. I also know I’m not going to be ‘accepting’ anything from the Nazi Bar that Twitter has become.
But let’s ask.
I e-mail them.
It bounces.
They fucking forgot to make the e-mail account, the exclusive e-mail account, just for Kuzco, that they sent in this fucking e-mail.
I reply to the message. It’s a no-reply.
Okay.
I check the web form. Can’t ask questions.
Okay.
I have now e-mailed a third e-mail, a fourth method.
I know that there’s nobody at the wheel. I know that Twitter is a thing now that’s wearing something else’s skin. I’m well-aware of what I’m talking to.
And I’m not even seeking closure.
Now, at this point, I’m poking a slime mold with a stick and seeing if it starts spelling ‘fuck you’ back at me in the shapes of its many cells.
What the fuck am I doing?
There was a feeling I had. When I was denied Verification, even though I didn’t want the checkmark (I detest these things), I wanted to win the game. I’m eligible: give it to me. Give me the badge so I can throw it on the floor and break it. That was the original goal.
But then, as the years passed, I started asking myself… am I doing something wrong?Am I not good enough?
And that doesn’t matter to me. not anymore.
Soon, the question became, how does this system work? I want to win it. I win to win at it.
And then.
And now.
It’s not even that anymore.
Twitter is such a broken husk of itself, so dysfunctional, as Claude said, that the game I was playing cannot even be played with it.
Old Twitter is gone. I didn’t respect it, or its ways. I don’t respect Bluesky’s checkmark, and I don’t want to win that one, either. (I would seriously make a separate account if I got that one. Eww.)
But now… there’s no closure. There is no closure to this ‘game’ I’ve been playing.
Because Twitter isn’t even able to play it with me anymore.
They can’t even make a fucking e-mail account.
This feels like trying to play Chess with your grandmother, and she starts sobbing and you have to keep her from eating the pieces.
