You caught me. You flat-out caught me. It's time to come clean.
Let me tell you a little bit about how I go through my day, which is also how literally every other moderator goes through theirs.
I wake up in my dingy, unwashed bed (which is covered with suspicious stains), then immediately scream for my mother to come downstairs and tell me that I’m a special boy. Once I feel sufficiently better than everyone else, I log in to Reddit, where I go through all of the top-secret communiques that I receive from whichever political party you personally dislike. Having accepted my marching orders, I motivate myself by going to town on my own backside with an anime-style figurine; a doll which looks vaguely like the world leader you most abhor. Then it’s time to get to work.
Pushing a narrative which irritates you – yes, specifically you – is obviously my first priority… but if a totalitarian regime which controls another country, religious group, or corporation has sent me enough money, I take whatever steps I can to promote or censor anything that’s even tangentially related to what they’ve highlighted for me. If the entity in question also happens to have a very small minority stake in Reddit (or if one of the site’s executives has rumored ties to their organization), then I make sure to publicly fellate them whilst simultaneously denying their influence. The more sucking that I do, the more cash I receive!
Mind you, I don’t actually spend any of that loot, because moving out of my parents’ basement would mean that I wouldn’t get that crack-of-noon ego-stroking anymore. No, rather than using those ill-gotten gains to improve my lot in life, I sculpt them into life-size (and anatomically correct) sculptures – using copious amounts of my own neck-sweat as glue – of the various public figures whose actions or perspectives anger you.
Anyway, once I’ve made certain that my corrupt overlords are pleased, I start looking for ways that I can ruin individual users’ days. Randomly removing posts (and then pretending that they were in violation of some invisible rules) is the only way that I can become aroused, after all, and I need to stand at my full, massive two inches if I’m going to be able to reach myself past all of my stomach fat. Having come to attention, I put on my self-pleasure hat – which is a trilby, of course – and start banning people who disagree with my opinions.
Those opinions having been carefully structured to go against yours, of course.
It’s time for a break by that point, so I spend an hour or three lecturing my waifu body-pillow about a given social trend that makes people (again, specifically you) upset. She’ll usually offer some kind of counterargument, which means that I need to throw an impotent tantrum. Whenever that happens, my only solace comes by way of somehow abusing my awesome Internet powers, typically while gorging myself on junk food, soda, and heaping handfuls of straight-up lard. Don’t ask me how that abuse actually manifests, though, because I’ll silence all of the remarkably insightful questions that you send my way. The thing is, I’ve never heard any of them before... and since my hidden masters haven’t told me how to respond, my only option is to screech at my computer monitor as I wildly flail around.
Those eight seconds of exertion tend to bring me pretty close to unconsciousness, so I have to completely ignore the communities that I govern for a while, thereby allowing a multitude of posts and comments to go through unchecked. Fortunately, they’re only ever submissions which you (once more, specifically you) find distasteful, so it still counts as a victory. At the same time, though, if you try to submit anything – especially if it’s entirely adherent to those invisible rules that I mentioned earlier – I’ll wheeze my way back into a semi-upright position for just long enough to mete out another completely unwarranted ban.
Finally, once all of that is done, I kill myself, frequently by dying in a fire. Getting the suggestion to do so dozens (or even hundreds) of times a day just proves to be too much for my utterly unfathomable intellect to handle, so I eventually succumb to the sweet embrace of death.
Besides, it’s the only way that I can get to sleep at night.
TL;DR: You don’t need to read this, because you’ve already decided that you know it all.
2 comments
1 SnapshillBot 2021-01-19
Damn, you know what?
You caught me. You flat-out caught me. It's time to come clean.
Let me tell you a little bit about how I go through my day, which is also how literally every other moderator goes through theirs.
I wake up in my dingy, unwashed bed (which is covered with suspicious stains), then immediately scream for my mother to come downstairs and tell me that I’m a special boy. Once I feel sufficiently better than everyone else, I log in to Reddit, where I go through all of the top-secret communiques that I receive from whichever political party you personally dislike. Having accepted my marching orders, I motivate myself by going to town on my own backside with an anime-style figurine; a doll which looks vaguely like the world leader you most abhor. Then it’s time to get to work.
Pushing a narrative which irritates you – yes, specifically you – is obviously my first priority… but if a totalitarian regime which controls another country, religious group, or corporation has sent me enough money, I take whatever steps I can to promote or censor anything that’s even tangentially related to what they’ve highlighted for me. If the entity in question also happens to have a very small minority stake in Reddit (or if one of the site’s executives has rumored ties to their organization), then I make sure to publicly fellate them whilst simultaneously denying their influence. The more sucking that I do, the more cash I receive!
Mind you, I don’t actually spend any of that loot, because moving out of my parents’ basement would mean that I wouldn’t get that crack-of-noon ego-stroking anymore. No, rather than using those ill-gotten gains to improve my lot in life, I sculpt them into life-size (and anatomically correct) sculptures – using copious amounts of my own neck-sweat as glue – of the various public figures whose actions or perspectives anger you.
Anyway, once I’ve made certain that my corrupt overlords are pleased, I start looking for ways that I can ruin individual users’ days. Randomly removing posts (and then pretending that they were in violation of some invisible rules) is the only way that I can become aroused, after all, and I need to stand at my full, massive two inches if I’m going to be able to reach myself past all of my stomach fat. Having come to attention, I put on my self-pleasure hat – which is a trilby, of course – and start banning people who disagree with my opinions.
Those opinions having been carefully structured to go against yours, of course.
It’s time for a break by that point, so I spend an hour or three lecturing my waifu body-pillow about a given social trend that makes people (again, specifically you) upset. She’ll usually offer some kind of counterargument, which means that I need to throw an impotent tantrum. Whenever that happens, my only solace comes by way of somehow abusing my awesome Internet powers, typically while gorging myself on junk food, soda, and heaping handfuls of straight-up lard. Don’t ask me how that abuse actually manifests, though, because I’ll silence all of the remarkably insightful questions that you send my way. The thing is, I’ve never heard any of them before... and since my hidden masters haven’t told me how to respond, my only option is to screech at my computer monitor as I wildly flail around.
Those eight seconds of exertion tend to bring me pretty close to unconsciousness, so I have to completely ignore the communities that I govern for a while, thereby allowing a multitude of posts and comments to go through unchecked. Fortunately, they’re only ever submissions which you (once more, specifically you) find distasteful, so it still counts as a victory. At the same time, though, if you try to submit anything – especially if it’s entirely adherent to those invisible rules that I mentioned earlier – I’ll wheeze my way back into a semi-upright position for just long enough to mete out another completely unwarranted ban.
Finally, once all of that is done, I kill myself, frequently by dying in a fire. Getting the suggestion to do so dozens (or even hundreds) of times a day just proves to be too much for my utterly unfathomable intellect to handle, so I eventually succumb to the sweet embrace of death.
Besides, it’s the only way that I can get to sleep at night.
TL;DR: You don’t need to read this, because you’ve already decided that you know it all.
Snapshots:
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