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  • Writer's pictureartahammer

Fee $peech

Updated: Sep 19, 2021

Got kicked off Twitter. Again. Coming up on fifteen times now. Evidently, on a platform teeming with homicidal religious fanatics, hate-spewing racists, and gloating official mass murderers, my biting wit is too much for the Twitter censors to contend with. Hard to imagine so many crude and caustic people being so sensitive, but there you go.

This was a long one, about two weeks. I had just overcome the trauma of being locked in Twitmo in December, isolated from my following of unconcerned well-wishers, too-concerned ill-wishers along with their bots, and folks selling something. Everybody’s selling something. This song for example. Available for sale, to discriminating listeners. Not discriminatory listeners, though as nondiscriminatory it is available to all with functioning ears, interested neo-cortexes, and money.

But that’s what this is about, isn’t it? The power of payment. Pay to say. You buy the time/space (continuum), you can say anything you want, who cares if it’s true. If you challenge said fee speech, your voice can be taken. As many others, much of the stuff I do is Twitter-centric, me spouting off about something or other, thinking my pathetic squeak of a voice could reach the ears in the cheap seats. Up with the nesting birds.

The cheep seats.

I got kicked off Twitter a lot when I first barged in there like a Chinese bull in a literary cliché boutique. I’m sure I deserved it, ruffling the feathers of the delicate Tweetlings I so brusquely assaulted with my unrestrained wit and scathing repartee. My most recent exiles – the interweb equivalent of being sent to my room to ruminate upon my sundry offenses – I feel were totally unjustified.

The first of them was a couple months back and was actually my first off-kicking in a couple years. Caught me totally by surprise. I had been happily directed to Happy!on Netflix and followed its star and producer Chris Meloni on Twitter in solidarity. Some tweep noted that his serious tweetery generated marginal retweet action whereas when he went crude he found enthusiastic response. With his usual brevity Chris tweeted, Twitter Yoda. I jokingly replied, A whore, your mother is.

That bought me about a week, but I was pleased Chris didn’t block me. My most recent banishment was my answer to someone asking What would Donald Trump have to do for the GOP to remove him from office? I responded, Die. And then they would remove him only reluctantly. On this I call Bullshit! I didn’t advocate or speak in favor of his demise nor have I ever, regardless its societal benefits; I delivered an amusing yet honest (prove me wrong) response and two hard weeks in Twitmo was my penance.

Instead of walking around the place kicking shit and muttering dejectedly, I decided to do this: what you’re reading and what I’m writing about. A song. My first in years. The first part, as is usually the case, was my lyrical outpouring of bile regarding how rich people own our perception and those who challenge that ownership are censored, or compelled into self-censorship so they don’t get sent to their virtual rooms or ball-gagged. I decided I would use my exile to condemn exile and those who exile those who challenge the narrative.

Pleased with the lyric, I knew the music had to be equally tough and relentless; I’m not fucking around here. So, as usual, I made about ten different passes before I found the right music to effectively express my artistic sensibilities. So many of my songs rise Phoenix-like from the tattered remains of the brave progressions that came before but couldn’t sustain the fundamental magnificence my work demands. Within my limitations, I am pleased with the results; as always wish I could do better vocals or find a singer inspired by lyrical splendiferousness. I categorize it as Heavy Mental.

Social media frees us from obscurity through the providence of a platform from which we can present ourselves to the world – a voice – then arbitrarily enforces subjective rules of conversational conduct to justify stealing that voice. The rightful cries of anti-First Amendment speech-stifling are met with their contractually supported response, “Our platform, our rules.” This is to remind us that if we wish to commune on their little patch of cyber-space, they will tell us what to say, soon as they’re done telling us what not to say.

As the interweb is of the government (the Pentagon), the Freedom of Speech must be the price of the exceedingly profitable companies which use it. Dangerous lies should never take prominence over unpleasant truths. Fee $peech exists because of their efforts to silence me and so many others.

Fuck them.

Fight back with Art.

Fee $peech

They wrote it then amended it

Distorted and distended it

Still human rights transcended it

While human wrongs attended it

With ethnic mix they blended it

Impurity offended it

The racists apprehended it

The fascists condescended it

The arguments intended it

Restricted and extended it

Nobility pretended it

Till no one comprehended it

Our bloodshed they defended it

The media commended it

At least ‘til they unfriended it

And money then suspended it

No more free speech

Now it’s Fee $peech

Too much freedom on display?

Guess you’ll have to pay to say

The king can call for your head

You cannot call for his

A fine demonstration of how

Real freedom is

His court lies to our faces

And without consequence

Yet if we lie to the court

We suffer violence

The church consumes our body

To kill in name of God

To question, apostasy

Humans kneel before fraud

Media poisons our minds

Turns thinking on its head

We defend our enemies

And kill our friends instead

No more free speech

Now it’s Fee $peech

How much does such freedom cost?

You already may have lost

Caught up in the interweb

Pretending our voices are free

Allowed to relay what they want us to say

We watch what they want us to see

20-page service agreements

Are written to never be read

Designed to bind the blind running blind

Where freedom is all in our head

Replacing free speech with fee speech

The man with the bucks calls the tune

We are free to sing along for a fee

Though we might as well howl at the moon

Our anti-social media

Keeps us all locked up tight in our cells

Masturbation as socialization

With garbage in, garbage expels

Know more free speech

Know less Fee $peech

Know more free speech

Know less Fee $peech

When they take our words away

We have nothing left to say

© 2020 ArtAHammer

1/27/2020 Arturo Hammer

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