This weekend, I watched three ladies I admire a great deal accomplish a difficult thing.
My wife Michelle and two of our scouts finished the Hiking Merit Badge by completing a 20-mile hike along the Yellowstone Railroad rail bed trail in Island Park, hiking from the Johnny Sack Cabin to near the Polebridge Campground.
One of the scouts is a rancher and avid hiker and wanted to complete the badge for fun. The other has some physical disabilities that make swimming and cycling difficult tasks, so to get her Eagle rank, she needed Hiking.
So both were highly motivated, and Michelle, bless her, was along for the ride. Or walk, as the case may be.
This is a good metaphor for life. We can often accomplish challenging things if we want them badly enough. And these three ladies did, if for different reasons.
There are also metaphors for preparation and adaptability.
I was driving the "rescue vehicle," in case there were difficulties along the route. I picked the route I wanted to follow by looking at Google Maps, planning out where to meet the group along the trail to provide assistance and a potty break when needed. At one point, however, the intended path was flooded -- literally. We were in water up to the axles and the next lake/puddle was even deeper. So we had to back up for about 1/4 of a mile to get out of the muck and then had to race to try to catch up to the hikers. We missed them at one stop, meaning they had to walk an extra distance before the bathroom break could take place. They were intrepid. And I was cautious enough that the only bad thing that happened was a missed potty break, not a flooded-out rescue vehicle.
Best part of the day was hearing their whoops and hollers when they tried to call us but the call didn't get through -- so we went to the trail and saw them coming at the end.
So today on Facebook, this image – or rather the concealment thereof – gained a lot of traction:
The image revealed shows a pair of glasses bringing a flower growing up through a cobblestone street into focus, with blurred images of people milling about in the background.
There’s also an unattributed quote on the image: “Stand up for what you believe in even if you are standing alone.”
Outrage on the ‘book, of course, is rampant. Or at least there in some form, let’s not exaggerate.
Nefarious mischief of Facebook’s ban-happy algorithm is presented, without evidence, as the main culprit. Many people are begging the question: Why is Facebook banning this image? They don’t want us to stand up for what we believe in?”
My theory: This is a fake news banning fueled by someone or someone wanting to fuel anti-Facebook sentiment by using Facebook’s own tools against it.
Let’s break things down, first of all. Understanding what’s in the image might be helpful. I doubt it, but I’s fun figuring it out.
Let’s start with the quote. As far as I can tell, the quote is attributed to Sophie Scholl, an anti-Nazi activist who was executed in 1943 for passing out anti-war pamphlets in Munich. Whether or not she actually said it is up for debate.
It’s quite possible she said something similar to this in German – her Wikipedia page includes the quote “Somebody, after all, had to make a start. What we wrote and said is also believed by many others. They just don't dare express themselves as we did,” which expresses a parallel sentiment.
This direct quote is attributed to Andy Biersack, singer for the Black Veil Pirates.
It’s also associated in many ways with Atticus Finch, protagonist of the novel “To Kill A Mockingbird.”
So clearly going to the Internets to find out who said this and why the sentiment might draw the ire of the Facebook censors is a dry well.
And the image?
Hard to tell. It has echoes of a few things I’m familiar with.
The glasses evoke this scene from the Battleship Potempkin, a Russian silent film from 1925.
(pertinent scene at 6:37)
The flower evokes this scene from Joe Versus the Volcano, a contemporary American film.
But images of flowers and glasses in similar contexts abound; certainly others could find instances familiar to them as well.
So let’s revisit that theory: Posting the image, well, that’s good and all, but it’s easily ignored. Get it banned, however, and it circulates due to the outrage machine Facebook is famous for.
Who benefits?
Hard to tell. People who don’t like Facebook, I guess.
But there’s more text on the photo: a URL: fb.com/mywhisperoftheheart
Go there and KABLOOIE more evidence of FACEBOOK CENSORSHIP.
The page isn’t there anymore, just this:
So the circle of conspiracy is complete.
Facbook’s less-than-transparent censorshipping of stuff doesn’t help. The original poster of this image might know what “community standard” the image violated, but clearly they’re not telling. And Facebook would only tell them in vague or indefinite terms – this is someone who’s spent time in Facebook Jail talking.
So is it easier to assume:
1.Something in this image is so violent and sinister that innocent Facebookers individually reported it enough times that it was banned.
2.Something in this image is a trigger for the snowflakes who jumped on the bandwagon of bannination.
3.The original poster of the image reported it and got enough friends to report it the image was banninated.
But who benefits? There seem to be no profit in this situation.
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History of Joseph Smith, by His Mother, by Lucy Mack Smith. 354 pages.
History of Pirates, A: Blood and Thunder on the High Seas, by Nigel Cawthorne. 240 pages.
Peanuts by the Decade, the 1970s; by Charles Schulz. 490 pages
Star Bird Calypso's Run, by Robert Schultz. 267 pages.
There's Treasure Everywhere, by Bill Watterson. 173 pages.
Read in 2024
92 Stories, by James Thurber. 522 pages.
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Blue Lotus, The, by Herge. 62 pages.
Book Thief, The; by Markus Zusack. 571 pages.
Born Standing Up, by Steve Martin. 209 pages.
Captain Bonneville's County, by Edith Haroldsen Lovell. 286 pages.
Case of the Condemned Cat, The; by E. W. Hildick. 138 pages.
Catch You Later, Traitor, by Avi. 296 pages.
Diary of A Wimpy Kid: Big Shot, by Jeff Kinney. 217 pages.
Edward R. Murrow and the Birth of Broadcast Journalism, by Bob Edwards. 174 pages.
Exploring Idaho's Past, by Jennie Rawlins. 166 pages.
Forgotten 500, The; by Gregory A. Freeman. 313 pages.
I Must Say: My Life as A Humble Comedy Legend, by Martin Short and David Kamp; 321 pages.
Joachim a des Ennuis, by J.J. Sempe and Rene Goscinny, 192 pages.
Le petit Nicolas et des Copains, by J.J. Sempe and Rene Goscinny, 192 pages.
Moon Shot: The Inside Story of America's Race to the Moon, by Alan Shepard and Deke Slayton; 383 pages.
Number Go Up, by Zeke Faux. 280 pages.
Peanuts by the Decade: The 1960s, by Charles Schulz. 530 pages.
Red Rackham's Treasure, by Herge. 62 pages.
Secret of the Unicorn, The; by Herge. 62 pages.
Sonderberg Case, The; by Elie Wiesel. 178 pages.
Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk, by David Sedaris. 159 pages.
Stranger, The; by Albert Camus. 155 pages.
Tintin in Tibet, by Herge. 62 pages.
Truckers, by Terry Pratchett. 271 pages.
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World According to Mister Rogers, The; by Fred Rogers. 197 pages.
Ze Page Total: 6,381.
The Best Part
Catch You Later, Traitor, by Avi
“Pete,” said Mr. Ordson, “we live in a time of great mistrust. This is not always a bad thing. People should question things. However, in my experience, too much suspicion undermines reason.”
I shook my head, only to remember he couldn’t see me.
“There’s a big difference,” he went on, “between suspicion and paranoia.”
“What’s . . . paranoia?”
“An unreasonable beliefe that you are being persecuted. For example,” Mr. Ordson went on,” I’m willing to guess you’ve even considered me to be the informer. After all, you told me you were going to follow your father. Perhaps I told the FBI.”
Startled, I stared at him. His blank eyes showed nothing. Neither did his expression. It was as if he had his mask on again.
“Have you considered that?” he pushed.
“No,” I said. But his question made me realize how much I’d shared with him. Trusted him. How he’d become my only friend. And he was the only one I hoad told I was going to follow my dad. Maybe he did tell the FBI.
He said, “I hope you get my point.”
Silcence settled around us. Loki looked around, puzzled.
Mr. Ordson must have sensed what I was thinking because he said, “Now, Pete, you don’t really have any qualms about me, do you?”
Yes, perlious times then. Who to trust? And perlious times now, with paranoia running even deeper than during the Red Scare . . .