Sloppy or careful? Fake accounts and how to spot them

This isn’t a sucurity blog. Let’s address the tangible: English teacher from Brazil wants to “participate” in the political life (and you can add so many things here) of another country (and you can replace this with so many words). That’s totally the story, right? Well, if you don’t know parents companies neither follow finance or policy, it’s really “sus”. If you do, it’s SUS, with caps. Excuse me, CAPS. Translating for the people in the back: Frances Haugen talking about the poor American teenagers with eating disorders is the ultimate example of fakeness, because news have to be new. Beauty standards being unrealistic is nothing new; people wanting to live in a completely separate reality, while a company profits in that promise land that’s not even tested yet (we assume) and the user is devastated at every turn when faced the consequences of loving toxic substances, not imaginary people (but maybe both): that’s a different kind of issue. Unrealistic? Remote access of my device seemed unrealistic until it wasn’t. But here’s a few comments.

Let’s talk metadata. First Name: Jane. Last Name: Summer. There’s probably a lot of people named Jane Summer. Alexa, that’s probably your thing: give me a random number. Let’s go with 1234? Okay. Snapchat says JaneSummer1234 added you as a friend. You’re 32, and you still use Snapchat. You have two reasons to feel like an idiot: first, you’re there, and you don’t understand why your camera isn’t working on other apps. Second, you’re adding a complete stranger? But then the thrill. The personalized avatar, or whatever it’s called now, with partnerships from Levi’s and Adidas. She has horns on her head and an open mouth, I mean, mind. Of course, because she’s adding a stranger too. And your username is… well, let’s not go there, please.

Where are you from? Nice to meet you. I’m lonely. Do you like nudes?


You answer, because you’re fucking retarded–parent company, I think we all know recent history, don’t we? When Tumblr stopped permitting, well, strangers from exposing themselves on the web, the reason was girls were using a sharpie to write stuff on their bodies and apply a lineup of hashtags that, well, you would not like to see associated to your girlfriend. Your daughter? You take her to a therapist session; nothing new, right? But your girlfriend? That must hurt.

I love nudes. I think nudity is essential of mortality and birth in equal measure: we come to this world wearing nothing, we leave it weary, but people have seen all we could offer, more than our body was, but all it was able to create. Presence isn’t such a streamlined concept in the business of humanity; nudity represents acceptance and beauty. So yes, I love nudes. I’m a very accepting person, though I’m not nearly as handsome as you, so I feel honored to receive a message like this, from such an attractive girl, with all due respect.

(username redacted in consideration of Section 230)

What a nice guy. Well, I don’t know if anyone noticed, but nice guys don’t usually get very rich. Do they? Well, how would I know? I’m a piece of shit and I do watch finance. Not that I’m getting rich any time soon, but I’m so ambitious, such a firm believer in the endurance of my critical capacity, clarity in planning and boldness in terms of innovation. I mean, look at all the verbs I’ve used to describe intercourse. Including international participation course. Right?

Okay baby, I’m going to send you a link. Once you enter your credit card details, you’ll get unlimited access to all my super sexy content, it’s very easy! I’ll see you there!


And you wonder why Chris Rock got slapped.

An important note: most of my featured pictures are taken from Pexels, and you can read in the terms about Creative Commons Zero and the Pexels directives, which allow all uses, including modification, even for commercial purposes, of the pictures on the site. That clarifies one thing. But as of today, I’ve become aware that the Pexels terms of use include an agreement not to use pictures as “logos” (problem number 1 for the English teacher here) or “in connection to any political policy or viewpoint”. Pexels, please. Everything is political. But the pictures are merely representing the themes approached on this blog, and in fact, most of it has EDUCATIONAL viewpoints, not political. The proposal for Participatory Fluency was developed after research that’s not even mine, but led to the creation of the Common Core Standards for Education, which, here in Brazil, have strong connection with media literacy research (in such case, my research). Even if that’s not exactly the case (does the legal team at Pexels read Portuguese or just scroll through high definition images of cameras worth thousands of dollars?), the CEFR has very well-known media literacy goals, and so that makes the blog content EDUCATIONAL, as described in the homepage. As far as the logo goes, I expect the sensible reasoning that two hands and the world map, with the impression of instruction as an interpretation of what the logo stands for, also explains the logo choice.

That being said, time to do what people should always do: instead of citing the company PEXELS, which arguably does very little to promote professional photography and its authors, I’ll be quoting every single author of the photos from now on. Here, you see Polina Tankilevitch’s image. I could make a post for every author I’ve taken pictures from, but I believe that, however controversial, the GDPR can find its way to compensate these people for their hard work, at leasst in terms of views and downloads, if they’re trackable, and to hold Pexels partly responsible for any misuse of the content provided with this promise of being a “free for everyone” platform. As a teacher who’s studied basic Law (maybe I’m modest, maybe I’m a nice guy), it’s my duty to say that some laws don’t make any sense. Much like companies encouraging you to talk to strangers while stealing your personal information and compromising your entire digital footprint.

Harvard, you know the phrase.

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