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Kieran Telo's avatar

True story, with a few details obscured.

A friend, let's call him V, led a bohemian sort of a life, kind of a Charles Bukowski. He had worked as a translator, mainly, in broadcast media, but his alcoholism became too obvious and interfered too much with job performance, so that work began to dwindle.

Another mutual friend lent him some cash to buy a car, take driving lessons, and become an Uber driver. V thrived on this: he could binge once or twice a week, when his moods were lowest, then get himself back together, and work long long shifts ferrying folks around. He loved other people, span a good yarn, earned really good tips.

But one day something happened. We're not sure what. Maybe an unguarded comment, perhaps a faint whiff of beer on his breath, or a tobacco smell in the car (by then he'd traded in the previous one and got a much shinier new one). Whatever it was, Uber suspended him from the pool of drivers while an investigation was carried out.

No human could be directly contacted to appeal this. Things dragged on. V's chronic depression kicked in, the boozing got worse, the shiny car sat there idle. Until one night V drove home, parked the shiny car in the garage, connected a hose to the exhaust and... you can guess the rest.

Never ever use these gig economy bastards. Never try to damage an online seller with some shitty feedback instead of trying to resolve whatever petty issue it is that they didn't solve within ten minutes.

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Terry T's avatar

Recently I took a short day trip into Amish country several counties away. I’m in Ohio USA. I was driving my old rough and trusty 55 year old Citroen DS and traveling the two-lane country roads. Suddenly I realized I left my iPhone at home. It was just me, an old car, some cash, and a tattered road map in the glovebox. After a moment of panic upon this realization, a wave of calmness –and joy– washed over me. I savored the wind, the hum of the old motor, the sights and sounds of farm country. The one word that repeatedly came to mind to describe this long lost feeling: that I was “autonomous.”

I was a bit shocked at the revelation.

For that day I was not at the command of a corporate mediated technology suite.

The insidious corporate techno–intermediary cages the human spirit imo. Their panopticon will smother spontaneity and creativity thru the conscious and subconscious awareness that our every move is being tracked. Our thoughts are tracked as well. And it is becoming painfully clear that thoughts and actions are increasingly molded to reflect the globalist desires. No good can come of this.

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