Community Wolf

Over the summer I had the sense that something was wrong, of course things were wrong, my health, my home, the state of the Planet, Politics…

I suppose I didn’t count the possible loss of a best friend.

Marko wasn’t a pushy person, he didn’t grab my by the collar and drag me into whatever he was into, but now and then there was gentle encouragement, Marko would have made a good counselor now that I think of it.

I’ve been here so long, on my own, because of my wonky health, because I’m an introvert. But there is also a sense of rotting away like my rotting house.

I know this is awful, but I’m almost envious of Marko, He’s gone, He doesn’t have to put up with any bullshit anymore, and I’ve been so entirely over the bullshit for years.

But perhaps I’m over the rotting too, this clandestine hope that I might simply wake up dead one morning and think it’s Christmas, Though I’d be worried sick about my dog, who’d take care of her?

Sick and dead, at the same time, worries too, shaking in a hessian bag, six foot under my garden. (not murdered, just cheap)

Well sitting around and rotting isn’t working too well for me, and it’s as dull as fuck, what a strange saying, fuck is anything but dull.

And without Marko’s support, what am I to do?

I have denied that I am a Furry, but the Furry umbrella is huge and doesn’t mind keeping the rain off poor fifty two year old lycanthropes.

I am alone in this World, at least it feels that way, I wish I had been closer to Marko, Why couldn’t I have just moved away from here and leave the ghosts of the past, to the past?

My life is as blocked up as my non working sewer, I’m drowning in a past life which turned up its toes years ago.

I need a community, I need to be involved.

Marko taught me that, I’m just so damn annoyed with myself that I only recognise that now.

But yes, I was sick, I still am, and yes I am an introvert, I have panic attacks when I’m in a crowd… but then don’t other Furries feel that too? Isn’t it bought out by the internal knowledge that we are different, and despite what the World says, We will never be Normal?

Who needs to be Normal? That’s a damn cowardly thing to be, isn’t it?

I have been content to lead a virtual life online, I am well known, and loved from a distance, but I need to be in the thick of things like Marko was.

I need compassion, I need people to look out for me, To check on me and see if I’m ok.

Should I continue on this current course, I will die on a toilet seat at home and won’t be found for days, the idea frightens me, being sick, dead and alone too.

Marko took me to the Melbourne Furry Convention twice and I was a fish out of water, while for him it was his life blood, I’ve been trying to work out why that was, and now I know.

Marko knew everyone, while I only knew two people, I probably knew a lot more but they didn’t look like their Twitter avatars.

I don’t want to die on my toilet seat, I want to die on a toilet seat in some strange place, after doing something that would give a religious freak a heart attack.

Will you take in this old Wolf and help him get around?

Wolfie Rankin

 

 

Denial of Service

About a week ago, I woke up and did my usual routine which includes breakfast and checking social media, which is something we do a lot of these days, often with the former being skipped.

I read messages that people had left me on Twitter as I slept, mostly responses to things I had posted the night before.

Then I went on to reading Facebook, except I couldn’t.

Instead of seeing my usual timeline, I had been greeted with a banner which suggested that I have apparently posted “underage nudity”, and had been blocked for 72 hours.

Now while I have been known for posting some outrageous items, underage nudity is not within my range of interests, so after reading the banner I had wondered what might have set things off.

Nudity itself doesn’t bother me at all, as far as I can tell, we all have bodies. Guns bother me a lot more than nudity ever will. and also the fact that gay people can’t marry in Australia, The TPP, War, Religious nutcases and people who shoot animals because they lack a decent sized cock.

I’m a (left-leaning) activist at heart, and I suppose that posting a story on something I detest causes certain heartless Facebook users quite a lot of angst.

And somewhere along the line, someone has worked out that they can “game” Facebook.

If you cheese someone off, there’s nothing stopping them from reporting your photo as underage nudity, even if it is just a photo of a three day old kitten.

The system seems to be automated, and once you’re reported, you’re done for three days.

And worse, how many further reports and suspensions will have your page removed permanently?

Nobody seems to check to see if you had actually posted anything offensive, the system simply trusts that you had.

But surely you can get in touch with Facebook and report this?

Well no, you can’t. If You’ve ever tried to contact Facebook, you’ll find that it’s an almost impossible task, can any other company do as well as Facebook without active customer service?

There is also no indication of which post was the culprit, not that any were offensive and certainly none would fall under the description of “underage nudity”.

Last week the suspension was lifted, but early Friday morning, it happened a second time.

All it amounts to is a denial of service attack by, most likely, someone who doesn’t support my views, and rather than dispute me directly, would rather act in a cowardly fashion.

The only hint I have of anyone feeling grumpy with my posts, is one comment about my banner image being offensive. It’s a poster of a cartoon wolf holding a microphone… He has pants on.

When I went to the person’s page, there was nothing there, no title, banner or anything.

Wolfie Rankin.

* Not that it stopped me, multiple accounts are definitely the way to go.