Someone who shall not be named wrote a comment on Nicole’s latest attempt at blogging.
Wait. I’ll just let you see it.
In between all this silly flattering stuff about the “beautiful family” and everyone being “sick in the head” was a very hard truth.
Why are there so many critics? Why are all these critics so disparate? (Not “desperate,” Nicole. “Disparate.” Look it up.) Most of the critics have almost nothing in common apart from their visceral loathing of the Naugler parents. Why?
Yes, some of us in course of this debacle have become friends. But we weren’t friends before this. Regardless of Nicole’s stupid assumptions, I have no ties to the Breckinridge County Sheriff’s Office. I accepted a friend request from someone who reads my blog. That’s it. And until Nicole discovered that this person was my Facebook friend, I didn’t know she had anything to do with the sheriff.
At any rate, this comment was not made by a supporter. It was made by a critic who wanted to point out that when everyone hates you, the problem is probably with you, not everyone else.
Nicole, being clueless, didn’t get it, but hopefully some of her brighter readers will.
It’s not her “political and philosophical beliefs.” Nobody cares about that. I didn’t even know about the whole anarchy thing until well after this blog was started, certainly a long time after Joe came sneaking over to my Facebook page and snooped around and then threatened to sue me.
What motivates me is being told I cannot speak (by Joe), threatened with a lawsuit for having an opinion (by Joe), and then having my son called a dead junkie (by Nicole). Similar stories are the major part of what motivates others. Joe and Nicole have earned this.
And in case Nicole doesn’t believe she’s been had, here’s the comment awaiting moderation.
So-called “like” pages, unlike personal pages, do not automatically get placed on the feeds of the people who “like” those pages. That is censorship, and very wrong and bad. To get those posts shared to every single person who has “liked” the page, one has to pay money. That is also very wrong and bad. And to make matters worse, we posted something political and it was removed by Facebook because Facebook hates third parties.
That is not an exact quote, of course, but it’s the gist of what the little rant is about.
The part about Facebook “pages” having to pay to get their posts seen is accurate. Sort of.
Here’s the deal. If you click “like” on a page, you will see little of it in your feed unless you interact with the page. You have to go visit that page, or “like” a post, or even better, comment on a post. If you do that, Facebook says to itself, “Hey, Sally likes that content, so we’ll show her more of it.”
Nicole is very aware of this, and it’s the reason that she posts stuff on BLH intended to encourage comments.
Like this. Nicole does not give a flying fuck what anyone else is doing about the weather. She doesn’t even typically enter into the ensuing conversation. She probably doesn’t even read it. She’s trying to entice people who see this post on their wall to comment, to interact with her page. If they comment, then they will get more of her posts scrolling by. These “What about you?” posts are clickbait.
In addition, there’s another way.
This is a page that I “like.” (I told you all that Dr. Amy is my hero.) In order to make sure that I see everything she posts to her page, I simply checked the “See First” option shown above. The default is “default.”
It’s entirely within my ability to customize my own Facebook page so that I see the stuff I want to see. There are several pages where I have done that.
There are other pages that I have “liked” but really don’t care if I ever see anything from them again. Everyone has these. They are the pages you “liked” because your cousin has a friend who is a plumber and she asked you to “like” his page, so you did. Or you got interested in a story or situation and “liked” a page about it, but after three months, you lost interest.
If I got everything posted from every page I have “liked,” along with all the stuff my Facebook friends post, my feed would scroll faster than I could read it.
Facebook knows this, so they have attempted to create the best solution they can so that my Facebook experience is positive and I keep hanging out there.
They also allow people with “like” pages to purchase exposure. Nicole has availed herself of this opportunity from time to time.
Remember, Facebook is free. How is that possible? How does Facebook remain free and Mark Zuckerberg become a bazillionaire?
If you’re curious about that, here’s a very good graphic that shows the whole process. Basically, Mark Zuckerberg has gotten rich by providing a super-duper advertising environment on steroids. And we all “watch” the ads willingly. Facebook is not a benevolent public service, like a city park. Facebook is a business.
It’s called “free enterprise.” Yes, the whole “free market” stuff that Nicole loves, loves, loves.
There’s an example. [Note: the economy had improved dramatically when Nicole wrote this, and the job market had started recovering nicely, but that’s beside the point.]
She’s all about the free market and deregulation. No rules, by god. Do whatever the hell you like.
She goes even further, though. In her view, she can refuse service to anyone she likes for any reason at all, and they can’t say a single word. [I’d give almost anything to see somebody test out that little hypothesis. She’s wrong, and the courts have made it clear in recent years that she is entirely wrong.]
But no matter.
I say who, I say when, I say how much. It’s my business.
That applies to any business.
Well, Nicole, you colossal idiot, Facebook is a business. They say who, they say when, they say how much, according to you.
But by all means, do get mad at them. Get irate. Get so angry and put out by their “discrimination” that you leave.
I bet the grocery stores love Nicole and her hoard of children coming in and taping shit to the dog food bags.
Put your money where your mouth is, Nicole. Meet me for lunch. I’m paying. You name the date, time and place. Bring Joe if you like, but no kids.
I dare you. If you won’t “leave your safety zone where your opinion won’t be questioned,” I say you’re a coward. Stick your neck out. I have no problem whatever with sticking out mine.
Meet me for lunch.
Do not underestimate me.
Oh, so I’m wrong about Nicole. Right. Well, in that case, surely she’ll agree to meet me for lunch.
Nicole, your husband was not cordial until after he had a beer in his belly. Your husband came charging into the road, stopped our vehicle and yelled at us. He either didn’t record that part, or he deleted it. I have no way of knowing which it was.
My husband doesn’t follow this very closely, but he knew enough to know that Joe Naugler has a criminal record for menacing behavior. He was afraid of Joe, and that’s the truth. Afraid not so much that Joe would beat him up or anything, but that Joe would act in such a way that Dave and Kyle would have had to beat his ass. And Dave did not want to be put in that situation.
There were not only two men in the vehicle, there were also two women and a child. Dave was simply being cautious with a man who has a criminal record for threatening people.
Let’s have lunch. Talk it over. You name the place. You set the day and the time. My only restrictions are that I have to be home in time to milk. Milking occurs at 7 am and 7 pm. The drive is about 1 1/2 hours.