I’m sitting here, chain-smoking something that’s probably illegal in three dimensions, staring at a screen that’s screaming lies so loud it’s giving me a migraine. Social media, this festering digital swamp we call X, has become a circus where the clowns are armed and the ringmaster’s snorting lines of algorithmic bias. Truth? Truth is the poor bastard tied to a chair in the corner, getting kicked in the teeth while the crowd cheers for the liars. And I’m supposed to just sit here and take it? Fuck that.
Let’s start with the basics: I got banned from X for calling a spade a spade—or rather, a racist a racist. Meanwhile, some mouth-breathing troglodyte can post about torching a hotel full of people, and X’s algorithm gives it a standing ovation. Free speech, they say? Free speech is a corpse on this platform, gutted and left to rot unless you’re spewing the kind of bile that gets Elon’s bots all hot and bothered. I tried an experiment—reported a steaming pile of far-right racist lies, the kind of garbage that makes your skin crawl. Result? Crickets. But call out the bigots, and suddenly I’m the one in digital handcuffs. That’s not a glitch, folks. That’s a business model. Hate sells and they know it.
I’ve been screaming about this for years, long enough that I wrote to my local MP, Taiwo Owatemi, back when the world still had a shred of hope. She fired back a reply—prompt, I’ll give her that—full of the usual politician-speak about “working to address online harms.” Said Labour was pushing for accountability, even tried to sneak in some credit for the Tories’ Online Safety Act. Cute, Taiwo, but that Act’s about as useful as a paper condom in a hurricane. Her heart’s in the right place, maybe, but the problem’s only gotten worse since then. The lies are winning, and the truth is coughing up blood in the alley.
Now, who the hell are Peter Kyle and James Lyons? Some suits supposed to be wrangling this mess, I’m told. Culture Secretary and some Ofcom lackey, respectively, if the whispers are right. Where are they? Probably sipping overpriced coffee while the digital world burns. Kyle’s the big shot, right? The one who’s supposed to make sure Ofcom’s not just a toothless old dog barking at the moon. And Lyons? Sounds like another bureaucrat collecting a paycheck while the lies pile up like bodies in a warzone. Do your fucking jobs, boys. The truth is getting murdered out here, and you’re nowhere to be seen.
Speaking of Ofcom, let’s talk about that joke of a regulator. They’re like a mall cop trying to stop a riot with a flashlight. Oh, they try—bless their little hearts. They’ll slap a fine on some platform, and the suits just laugh, pay it out of petty cash, and keep on amplifying the hate. Companies like GBNews? They don’t give a shit. They’ll call themselves a “topical chat show” to dodge the rules, flip Ofcom the bird, and keep raking in the ad revenue. Ofcom’s got no teeth, no spine, no nothing. They’re a speed bump on the highway to hell.
And don’t get me started on this “algorithm” bullshit. Everyone throws that word around like they know what it means, but it’s just a fancy excuse for a machine that’s been programmed to boost lies and bury truth. It’s not neutral—it’s a weapon. X’s algorithm is a thug in a digital trench coat, deciding who gets heard and who gets silenced. Spoiler: if you’re calling out racists, you’re getting the boot. If you’re inciting a riot, you’re getting a megaphone. That’s not free speech; that’s a rigged game. Hate sells, so hate gets the boost.
I keep hearing about “consequences and accountability.” Damn right, there should be. If you’re out here trying to burn down a hotel, you deserve a one-way ticket to a cell with a complimentary soap-on-a-rope. But X? They’re not interested in consequences unless it’s for the truth-tellers. Call out a racist, and you’re banned. Post a manifesto about ethnic cleansing, and you’re trending. What the fuck, X? You’re not a platform; you’re a propaganda machine.
We need a reckoning. Ofcom needs to grow a pair, or we need a Leveson Inquiry 2 to drag these platforms into the light and make them bleed accountability. The Online Safety Act? It’s a start, but it’s like bringing a butter knife to a gunfight. We need regulators who can actually regulate, not just issue press releases and hope for the best. We need platforms that don’t play favourites with the truth. And we need people like Kyle and Lyons to step up or step the hell out of the way.
The truth is out there, but it’s drowning in a sea of lies, and the lifeguards are on a smoke break. I’m not here to hold your hand and sing kumbaya—I’m here to kick the door down and demand answers. X, Ofcom, Kyle, Lyons, all of you: the clock’s ticking. Fix this, or the next article I write will be from a jail cell, and I’ll make sure it’s got your names in bold.
Spider Thompson, out.
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