This court has heard enough!

Let us begin with the number that has been sitting in the middle of this courtroom like a dead raccoon nobody wants to acknowledge: 11,795 downvotes. And 39 upvotes. Thirty-nine. Think about that a sec...

The defendant has apparently wandered through Lemmy for three years encountering nearly twelve thousand things worthy of condemnation, disgust, censure, rejection, or the Sacred Blue Arrow of Disappointment, yet only 39 times has he encountered something that made him think, “Yes. This. This may remain.”

That is like traveling through an all-you-can-eat buffet, spitting into 11,795 dishes, complimenting 39 dinner rolls, and then telling the manager you are merely expressing your culinary preferences.

The Court rejects this logic. And most logic. Except the The Logical Song by Supertramp. Which is good. But this fucking defendant would downvote that song if it were a Lemmy post!

The defendant says he reserves upvotes for things he personally enjoys enough to want to see again. Very touching. I'm wiping a way a tear with my hard-earned $1 bill.

Apparently he has enjoyed approximately one thing for every small civilization he has condemned.

The Court also notes his argument that many people “say silly things.”

Sir. You are on Lemmy.

Silly things are the natural resource upon which this entire platform was built. Without silly things, Lemmy would consist of four Linux troubleshooting posts, seventeen articles about American politics, and one confused man asking why Mastodon will not show him pictures of trains.

Then we arrive at the downvote criteria.

Clickbait.

Scams.

Tabloids.

Bad-faith arguments.

Trolling.

Egregious opinions.

The Court might have entertained this defense had the defendant stopped there. But then he confessed to downvoting news articles because their headlines sometimes follow the structure: “X says Y to Z.”

Oh. I see. Apparently punctuation and sentence construction have now become capital offenses.

Some poor journalist writes, “President Says Something to Somebody,” and somewhere in the darkness the defendant awakens, his eyes glowing blue, one trembling finger already descending toward the arrow.

“Should have focused on tangible action,” he whispers.

DOWNVOTE.

The journalist does not know why the room suddenly feels colder.

Then came the confession that shook this Court to its very foundation.

The defendant admits that when someone repeatedly annoys him, he sometimes opens their profile and downvotes their most recent 20 posts or comments before blocking them. The defendant putting on a tiny little downvote uniform, walking over to somebody’s house, kicking each of their garden gnomes individually, and then leaving a note saying: “Nothing personal.”

And finally, the defendant offers what may be the most alarming defense of all: His downvotes average only a little over 15 per day. Only. Fifteen. Every day.

Apparently the defendant wakes each morning, stretches, brushes his teeth, perhaps enjoys a little breakfast, and then begins his civic duty of locating approximately fifteen things that have personally disappointed him.

That's roughly one daily downvote for every hour he is awake, assuming he sleeps like a normal mammal and is not suspended upside down in a basement somewhere refreshing New.

The Court does, however, acknowledge one mitigating factor. The defendant came here voluntarily. He explained himself. He admitted to pettiness. And he has agreed to accept the sentence.

This displays courage. Poor judgment. But courage.

I therefore find the defendant: GUILTY!

Guilty of Aggravated Arrow Misery, First-Degree Recreational Disapproval, Possession of an Unreasonably Pessimistic Thumb, and one count of Making Lemmy Feel Like Yelp for Human Beings.

The sentence shall be corrective rather than merely punitive.

For the next three days, the defendant is hereby ordered to upvote every post he encounters. Every one.

Bad meme? Upvote.

Forty-seven-paragraph political manifesto written entirely at 3:12 a.m.? Upvote.

Picture of somebody’s blurry sandwich about to be stuffed into their bunghole? Upvote.

Post titled “Does Anyone Else Think Water Is Wet?” Guy, you better smash that arrow like you just witnessed the birth of your first child.

The Court intends to force joy back into the defendant one click at a time.

But this alone cannot cleanse nearly twelve thousand downvotes from a man’s spirit.

Therefore, the defendant must also take a ceremonial judicial bath to wash the accumulated downvote filth from his soul. The water shall contain bubbles, one rubber duck, and enough lavender bath salts to make him question whether he has accidentally joined a spa cult.

Afterward, he shall raise one entirely imaginary, Court-approved goblet of symbolic bathwater toward the heavens and proclaim: “I SHALL TRY TO LIKE THINGS.”

He shall then proceed to drink it. The Court may be insane, but we still have a health department. And that health department says that dirty downvote water is good for the skin.

Let the record show that mercy was considered. Then rejected. Then reconsidered. Then forgotten because somebody brought Cheez-Its into the courtroom.

So say me. This is now Lemmy Law.