Large printing press companies once controlled the print industry, dictating, for better or worse, what most people read. This was likely driven by cost factors—it was prohibitively expensive for most companies and even more so for the average person. Were you going to setup a paper mill? Contract with a lumber company? Manufacture and maintain the printing presses? Fast forward several decades, and now we have smaller printing presses, at-home printers, local print services, and even self-publishing print-on-demand platforms.

Major record labels similarly dominated the music industry. They controlled production, manufacturing, and distribution. Back in the day, if you wanted to make it big, you had to go through one of the major labels. Then came the independent music movement—the low-budget, do-it-yourself ethos of the ’90s that gave rise to some truly iconic bands.

We’ve seen this pattern repeat in other areas, most recently with online video content. Creators now produce high-quality videos from their own “home studios.” Like, comment, subscribe!

Some call this democratization—equal accessibility for all. Others see it as the great decentralization.

You can probably guess where this is heading.

Social media. The new town square. Like any town square, it’s governed by the rules and regulations of those in charge. The towns.

It’s a hard lesson to realize that social media platforms, which once felt like safe spaces, are anything but. These platforms are ultimately at the mercy of the multimillionaires who own them. And if we’re being honest, didn’t we always know that? It shouldn’t really come as a surprise.

There’s a paradigm shift happening. We’re no longer in the early, idealistic days of the internet—those days of curiosity and noble intentions. Now, we’re navigating deeper, more chaotic waters, encountering the good, the bad, and the ugly aspects of humanity. Like all new tools, the internet reflects the human condition—great in theory but often flawed in practice.

The industrial revolution brought remarkable innovations, but it also gave us climate change. Plastics and polymers are modern marvels—until they end up in our food chain. The internet has revolutionized communication, but not everything it offers is valuable or true. Progress comes with growing pains, like a toddler learning to navigate the world—there are missteps, burned fingers because the stove is hot, and lessons learned about what’s not appropriate for consumption.

Social media communities might be the way forward—a return to something more intimate, akin to tribalism. The global town square has grown too noisy, too chaotic. While it’s a powerful tool for organizing around noble causes, many have lost sight of the common good. It’s become a carnival of snake oil salesmen, opportunists, and recreational hate. And yet, we stay, afraid that if we leave, we’ll lose touch with the people we care about because the whole town is there.

Enter federated social media—the Fediverse. This concept offers a decentralized approach, where different platforms (or “instances”) are like gated communities, each with its own rules, culture, and events. These communities can interact with each other across the network, much like email. Just because you have a Gmail account doesn’t mean you can only communicate with Gmail users. The Fediverse works the same way—users on different platforms can connect seamlessly. And if one community doesn’t suit you, moving to another is often easy. Communities can also block harmful ones, maintaining a level of safety and autonomy.

I’m working on a toolkit to help friends navigate this shifting landscape of decentralization. I plan to keep it updated as I discover new resources. Change is never easy, and I get it. As I get older, I often catch myself thinking, “Ugh, I don’t want to learn something new or figure out another system.” But I also find myself less willing to tolerate spaces that make me feel like crap. Life’s too short for that.

So, here I am, searching for a new space—a new corner of the sky. It’s a journey, but ultimately, it’s what we make of it. Right now, I’m enjoying the novelty, meeting different people, and experiencing that nostalgic sense of early internet curiosity—the kind that comes with exploring something new and exciting.

You can find my social media links here.

It’s been a bit.

I often forget about this personal blog space. A lot has happened since I last wrote here. I briefly resumed blogging during the Covid-19 pandemic. It’s strange—funny, really—how we refer to that 1-3 year stretch as “the covid times,” and even stranger how everything before then has become “the before times.” It speaks volumes about the event’s profound impact—politically, economically, and socially.

Here we are, five years later, and the world seems to brace itself for yet another shift.

Corporate media, bitter as it’s often been, has turned sour—some might even say toxic. Misinformation and disinformation run rampant, not just from the usual corporate news sources but across social media too, amplified by bots and fake profiles with questionable agendas. News is measured by how fast it spreads, not by the reliability of its source or even a basic fact-check. Trust first, verify… never? And I’m not sure we’ll get the chance to verify much moving forward.

The rise of LLMs (Large Language Models, or AI) has cluttered the internet further. Search results often feel diluted, AI-generated content blending truth with fiction. That’s a rant for another day—I do believe LLMs have legitimate use-cases, but we’re haven’t figured it out. No, the answer is not put AI in everything including our apple pie. (oh, geez I see this happening)

Meanwhile, access to credible news is increasingly hidden behind paywalls. That’s right—knowledge now comes with a price tag.

Public trust in institutions once built to protect us continues to erode. The very checks-and-balances that shaped this country are now questioned. Some seek to consolidate power, much like how massive corporations swallow smaller ones.

As information fatigue sets in, many companies have surrendered on content moderation altogether. Whether out of fear of the incoming administration’s thin skin or simply giving up due to the financial strain of managing it. It feels like a white flag of defeat.

This is not the future I imagined.

People are migrating away from hostile social platforms. I’ve found myself shifting too—rearranging my mindset, focusing inward, and exploring creative ways to manage life’s challenges.

So here’s my focus:

• Stay more organized. Exploring tools and methods that fit my ADHD tendencies.
• Rediscover my love for writing. It’s been a long time since I flexed that muscle, and as I write this, the words don’t come as easily as they once did. I hate that!
• Prioritize what truly matters. Making time for the experiences and goals I value most.
• Microdose happiness. As it becomes harder to find joy in the big picture, I’ll make the most of small things—simple pleasures, fleeting moments, and everyday victories.

In this spirit, I’ve locked down my older entries and removed the ability to comment. It feels like a strange time—so different from the early internet days when curiosity thrived. We’d leave thoughtful comments on strangers’ blogs, engage in real conversations, and share ideas openly. Does anyone remember tweet-ups? When you met folks IRL (In Real Life)? Gosh, mayb I’m aging myself.

Now? Those metaphorical walls are back up. It’s no longer the same wide-eyed “hello world” optimism I grew up with. We’re now in this nightmare, twilight zone timeline some of us refer to as Earth 2. So, Hello World 2.