Off. On.

Ran a server upgrade recently which resulted in a “critical error” for WordPress requiring a full reinstall. Turns out my folder decisions and image categorisation from the previous migration was a good choice and everything was back in functional order after about an hour.

Speaking of server migrations, the last time I did that was in conjunction with the decision to avoid Amazon products*. This year I’ve decided Facebook products can be added to my DNI list. While my public FB page was taken down some time ago, my Instagram and private FB account have both recently joined it in terms of no longer being things which exist.
Mostly I’ve been having privacy and safety concerns; Tumblr and dA still, somehow, against all better judgement, feel largely “safe” in that they allow a degree of anonymity and don’t tend to request much identifying information.

Not that anybody with enough spare time couldn’t stalk me if they really wanted to, I just don’t want Facebook profiting off my inevitable murder.

It’s also an attempt to reconnect with hobbies.
Being here, for instance: running a shit little website for no reason other than expression of autonomy? That’s fun, like, did you know the whole concept of a favicon has gone absolutely off the shits? You could have a different one specified in 936 different formats and still find a browser that won’t take to any of them. If you did know that then you’ll know it’s been like that for a while now, so the thrill has likely worn away to equal parts frustration, resignation, and indifference to the lack of standardisation across mediums. Whereas not knowing implies that you’re unlikely to care.

Along with the server upgrades and new favicons, I’ve taken some time to remove analytics as it was never something which interested me in the first place. As if I don’t call myself “Tortured Chicken” to discourage people from finding me?! There will never be advertising nor corporate sponsorships here, no need for tracking or researching demographics, I do not care for the nuances of search engine optimisation (not that it even matters in a capitalist hellscape where you can just pay to be at the top of any given search query anyway), this site does not exist to generate passive income; I will die impoverished, devoid of human contact, surrounded by pigeons, secure with the knowledge that, ultimately:

n o t h i n g   m a t t e r s .

Your 10-year plan can’t save you from the inevitability of decomposition.

*Hastily shoves Twitch account into a closet and refuses to acknowledge it.