[–] -2 points 1 year ago (1 child)

I’ve never once heard “bro” used in a genuinely positive way. Not once.

At best it’s fake-jovial. At worst it’s a way to diminish, antagonize, or mask hostility.

Case in point: this very thread. People kept saying “bro” not out of warmth, but because they thought it would piss me off. That’s not camaraderie—that’s toxicity.

And no, “bro” is not the same as “mate.” “Mate” might be regional slang. “Bro” is gendered. Which means it’s exclusionary by default. It assumes something about the person you’re talking to that may not be true. That’s not inclusion. That’s presumption.

So unless someone is your literal brother, why keep it around? If a word carries a whole lot of negatives and almost no positives, why pretend it’s harmless? Better yet—why does your urge to use a toxic word override my goal of building an inclusive community? Would you defend other toxic words the same way—words with even sharper malice baked in?

And if you would, then maybe the problem isn’t me banning “bro.” Maybe the problem is what you’re really defending.

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  • [–] -1 points 1 year ago (1 child)

    You’re framing visibility as if it’s accountability.

    But mods aren’t accountable to users—they’re accountable to admins. If a mod aligns with an admin, users can scream all they want, nothing changes. If a mod sides with the community but not the admin, the admin overrules both. That’s hierarchy, full stop.

    Let’s be real. The whole conceit of YPTB is a farce. You’re not “holding mods accountable.” You’re doing populism dressed up as anarchism, aligning with admin tastes when it suits.

    Out of all the possible people in the community, it just so happens that the true authorities—the ones setting the norms and nurturing the culture—are the same ones holding the keys to the entire server. And those are the very people wielding YPTB as a cudgel in the name of “accountability.” That’s not accountability. That’s a closed loop.

    If lemmy.dbzer0.com were serious about anarchism, the admins would say: “No mods, no users, no hierarchy—everyone go operate their own nodes.” But they don’t. Instead, this community exists under the admin’s keys, which feeds an illusion.

    And that “visibility” you’re pointing to? It’s not accountability—it’s branding. Admin branding. It only exists because lemmy.dbzer0.com allows it to exist, and only as long as the server remains federated. Flip that switch and your visibility, your supposed accountability, evaporates overnight.

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  • [–] 2 points 1 year ago

    Got it. So it's less confusing to users who don't know what an FE or BE are, but it's more confusing for new admins who do.

    "Instead of running Soapbox on Soapbox, I'll run Fedibird on Soapbox. Scratch that. I'll run vanilla Pleroma with Soapbox instead of Soapbox."

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  • [–] 0 points 1 year ago (3 children)

    Fair enough—I probably came in sharper than I needed to. I get that you’re not denying the power imbalance, just framing it differently.

    We’re closer in view than it might have sounded. My aim wasn’t to dunk on you, just to stress that these structures aren’t neutral. If we’re both pointing in the same direction, then good—that’s where the real work begins.

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  • [–] 0 points 1 year ago (5 children)

    Space isn’t “just a space.” Space is what makes words accessible. A post that nobody can reach might as well not exist. Infrastructure isn’t neutral—it’s the condition that makes communication possible in the first place.

    And admins don’t just have the power to end a space. They have the power to prevent speech from ever happening. They can de-platform, silence, or exclude before words are written. That’s not trivial. That’s systemic control over what gets created, not just what gets erased.

    And sometimes communities really are families—both literal and ad hoc. People pour years of energy, conversation, and memory into them. When they get obliterated, it’s not “just a space” disappearing—it’s a shared history wiped out because one person with keys decided it was over.

    What makes your comment even more striking is that it contradicts your earlier points. First you downplayed hierarchy by saying admins are just neutral facilitators, now you admit they hold systemic power but dismiss it as “no big deal.” Which one is it?

    That’s the imbalance I’m pointing at. If we want real commons, that has to change. Otherwise we’re all just tenants, and the landlord can decide at any moment to bulldoze the building. Dismissing that as unimportant is exactly how these power structures stay invisible.

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  • [–] -1 points 1 year ago (1 child)

    I’m not arguing for extremes at all.

    On one side you’ve got pure authoritarianism—admins as unchecked rulers. On the other side you’ve got utopian anarchy—peers moderating themselves with no hierarchy. I’m not in either camp.

    What I’m pointing out is the middle: these platforms are hierarchical by design. That means admins do hold systemic power, but it also means admins have responsibility for how that power is exercised. My stance is simply to acknowledge that reality instead of pretending hierarchy doesn’t exist.

    Selective federation is part of that. It’s not about isolation or domination—it’s about setting clear boundaries for what I’m willing to host and connect with, while still participating in the broader network. Users still have choices. They can join another server or start their own. That’s federation working as intended.

    So this isn’t an extreme position. It’s the pragmatic one: take responsibility for the space you run, be upfront about the structure, and don’t pretend current software is something it isn’t.

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  • [–] 5 points 1 year ago* (4 children)

    Just want to point out that I use Mangane, which is a fork of Soapbox, on my Akkoma server---and it absolutely connects to Lemmy.

    From what I understand, Soapbox is just a front-end. The backend is Pleroma/Akkoma.

    And by the way, one of the great aspects of the *oma services is that the frontends can be swapped out.

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  • [–] 0 points 1 year ago (7 children)

    The feast metaphor doesn’t hold. If I pay for a banquet hall, the guests can mingle—but they don’t control the locks on the doors, the electricity, or whether the venue even stays open tomorrow. If I decide to shut the place down, the party ends whether they like it or not. That’s not neutral infrastructure. That’s systemic power.

    I’m not saying the admin “owns” people’s words. Users own what they write. But whether that writing continues to exist, whether it stays visible, whether it can even be reached—those are all contingent on the admin. Content lives inside infrastructure, and whoever holds the keys controls the environment where it persists.

    And people absolutely are confused about this. Look at lemm.ee: did the community want to vanish overnight? No—but the admin pulled the plug, and everything disappeared. The same happens on Reddit when admins close subreddits, or on Discord when a server gets nuked. People routinely find themselves blindsided because they mistake participation for ownership.

    That’s the point I’m pressing: software that demands admins and mods creates hierarchy, no matter what ideals we wrap around it. If we want a true commons, the architecture has to change—there can’t be “users,” only peers, each running their own node. Until then, pretending otherwise is just comforting metaphor.

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  • [–] 2 points 1 year ago (3 children)

    I get what you’re saying, and I even sympathize with it. I would love a true public square owned by the commons—something where people’s conversations aren’t at the mercy of whoever happens to run the machine.

    But that’s not how Lemmy, Mastodon, Misskey, or any of the current platforms work. These systems are hierarchical by design. They require admins, they require mods, and everyone else becomes “users.” That’s not a public square, that’s tenancy.

    Even donations don’t change that. If the admin holds the keys, they hold the power. Look at lemm.ee—did the community there want to be wiped out overnight? Of course not. But the admin pulled the plug, and that was the end of it. That’s the architecture working as designed.

    If we really want a public square, then we have to stop talking about “users.” There should only be peers. And that means each person owning their own node, not donating their content to someone else’s server and hoping they’ll be benevolent forever.

    That’s the uncomfortable truth: until the design itself changes, we don’t have commons. We have hierarchies dressed up in populist rhetoric, and every user is just one admin’s decision away from disappearing.

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  • [–] 0 points 1 year ago (9 children)

    The problem with your framing is that it treats software as neutral when it isn’t.

    Social media software encodes structure into how communities are organized. If the software is hierarchical, the community will be hierarchical. There’s no way around that unless everyone literally operates their own nodes.

    And that’s where the real vulnerability lies. If you don’t run your own server, you’re not sovereign. You’re donating your content to someone else’s machine and trusting that their standards, moderation, and moods won’t turn against you. Ideals won’t protect you if the design itself makes you dependent.

    If you really care about a sense of ownership, then you should be running your own server. That’s what freedom of association actually means. It isn’t allegiance. Allegiance locks you in. Association multiplies your choices—pick a server that matches your values, or start your own. That’s the entire point of federation.

    So let’s not pretend mass platforms or wide-open instances are some higher form of democracy. They aren’t. They’re just populism sitting on top of hierarchy. The lowest common denominator gets to shout “this is the people,” while the actual levers of control stay exactly where they’ve always been—with whoever holds the keys.

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  • [–] 1 point 1 year ago (5 children)

    Yeah, I get why the word “own” makes people uneasy. There’s a sincere belief that communities should belong to the commons—that no one should control the space, that it should be shared, stewarded, collective.

    I sympathize with that. I really do.

    But that’s not how the software works.

    Lemmy isn’t structured like a commons. Neither is Mastodon. Neither is most federated software. These platforms still rely on admins, moderators, and users. There are hierarchies, permissions, access levels. Someone has root. Someone pays the bills. Someone can click “ban.”

    If you’re building a community on someone else’s server, you are doing so inside their infrastructure. And under the law, they are the legal operator and data controller. That gives them full authority—technical and legal—over the domain, the storage, the moderation tools, and the continued existence of what you built.

    So yes—everything you post on Reddit, Facebook, or Twitter lives behind walls. Even if you retain copyright, you’ve handed over a perpetual license to do whatever they want with it. They own the platform. They control the archive. You’re not publishing. You’re donating.

    The Fediverse is better—but let’s not pretend it’s structurally different. If you build something inside someone else’s instance, they own the keys. If they kick you out, it’s gone. That’s not a glitch. That’s the model.

    If you truly want a commons—a system with no admins, no mods, no hierarchy—you need to build software that works that way. But that’s not Lemmy. Not Mastodon. Not Misskey. Not PeerTube.

    In this system, the only real recourse is to run your own server. That’s where your power begins. That’s where your autonomy lives.

    And that’s why I say: I want to own my community.

    Because if I don’t, someone else will. And I’ve seen what happens when they do.

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    Because of the behaviour I’ve seen in recent discussions, I’m placing !fediversenews@piefed.social on lockdown until further notice.

    The problem isn’t disagreement or debate—that’s always welcome. The problem is brigading: people from outside the community piling in, not to engage in good faith, but to stir conflict and derail conversation. When that happens, it ceases to be discussion and turns into harassment.

    This community was created to provide a space where people can follow Fediverse news, share perspectives, and talk about developments in a civil manner. I won’t let that be undermined by targeted disruption. For the time being, no new posts will be allowed. Once things cool down, I’ll review the situation and reopen the community.

    Thank you to everyone who has contributed in good faith—you’re the reason this community exists.

     

    Even 47 years later, this thing gets me hyped. The “Master Component” had a 16-bit microprocessor?! Three-part harmony music? A display they called an “extraordinarily high level of resolution”? That sounded like the future. Sign me up.

    And when they start hyping up ROM cartridges to a general audience, most people probably had no clue what that meant. But it must have felt like home electronics had just landed on the moon.

    This was the first real console war: Intellivision vs Atari 2600. And wild to think—two years ago, Atari finally bought Intellivision.

     

    In 1972, this must have felt like stepping into the future. TVs had only ever been passive, and suddenly the screen could respond. Families were seeing their living room sets turn into game machines, with paddles controlling little glowing squares.

    Now, the overlays look wild. Plastic sheets taped to the glass to turn dots into tennis courts or haunted houses. It’s clumsy. Also brilliant—an early hack to add color and imagination to an otherwise bare signal. You had to supply the magic yourself, which makes it all the more fascinating today.

    And the way Magnavox pitched it. What are you going to do when your kids are snowed in? It was sold like a family appliance. Little did they know that this would be revolutionary.

     

    Love that Metal Jesus is diving deeper into obscure PC games. As a former Sierra employee, he brings a perspective few retro enthusiasts can match.

    And honestly, any spotlight on PC gaming history is welcome. It’s a part of retro culture that too often gets pushed aside.

    Which blows my mind—because even if you only count DOS and Windows, leaving out Mac, Amiga, and Linux, PC still has the single biggest game library of all time.

     

    Two new rules have been added to this community, and they deserve some explanation.

    Inspired by this comment, I started thinking about why so many gaming spaces feel shallow or exhausting.

    The problem is that they are rarely about video games themselves. Instead, they become about “being a gamer”—a label, an identity, and a consumer tribe. That identity is built on cycles of hype, outrage, loyalty to platforms, and endless talk of hardware or marketing. It flattens games into consumable products, and the people into market demographics.

    That’s not the kind of community I want to build. I’m here because I see games as art, and I want to share that perspective with others who think the same way. If someone views games mainly as a lifestyle accessory, or if their whole identity is wrapped up in consumption, then this space will feel alien to them—and that’s intentional.

    Which is why the first new rule is simple: “This is not a gamer identity space.” It sets the boundary clearly. We don’t need the baggage of gamer identity here. This community isn’t a loyalty badge, it’s a place for deeper thought.

    The second new rule grows directly out of the first: “Talk about games as art.” If games are art—and they are—then the most interesting conversations we can have are about design, aesthetics, mechanics, and meaning.

    What is this game trying to say? What choices did the creators make, and why? How does its structure, its tone, or its style affect the way we experience it? These are the kinds of questions that lift discussion beyond consumption and into critique, interpretation, and appreciation.

    I added this rule because I’ve seen firsthand what happens when you try to talk about games in this way elsewhere. In another gaming community (which doesn’t need to be named), I made the mistake of approaching the medium with positivity and seriousness—treating it as art worth celebrating.

    The reaction was hostility. People saw appreciation as “shilling,” and thoughtful discussion as a threat to their outrage-driven culture. That told me all I needed to know: rather than fight to carve out space in communities built on negativity, it’s better to establish one that starts with positivity and respect for the medium itself.

    So that’s the point of these two new rules. They’re not just lines in a list—they’re the foundation for what kind of community this will be. A place where games are treated as works of art, not consumer trophies. A place where we discuss choices, meaning, and design, not just hardware wars or outrage cycles.

    This is a place where positivity is not only welcome but expected.

     

    Here they are:

    They’re up for grabs until next Thursday.

    I’m going to talk more about free games and good deals—because if you can build your library cheap (or free), why wouldn’t you?

     

    Did you know Disney once published an ATV racing game? Yeah—Disney. The same company that gives us princesses and endless Marvel spinoffs was, for a brief and shiny moment, trying to be a serious video game publisher.

    Fox tried it. Warner Bros. tried it. Disney thought it could too. But in the end? They couldn’t make a dent.

    Pure was their big swing. Developed by Black Rock Studio in Brighton—the same crew that created the original MotoGP games and ATV Offroad Fury—it had pedigree.

    And Disney didn’t skimp: a marketing budget north of $10 million, slick demos that wowed the press, and even a Best Racing Game of E3 2008 award to hang on the wall. Critics loved it. 8s and 9s across the board. PC Gamer US gave it 82%. On paper, this thing should’ve been massive.

    But when it hit shelves in September 2008—across Xbox 360, PS3, and yes, Windows XP—it sputtered. No one knows the exact number, because Disney never bragged about it, but the best estimates hover around 300,000 copies sold worldwide. For a cross-platform release with that kind of push, that’s a commercial faceplant.

    A game that gave you giant canyon jumps, a deep trick system, even LAN play on PC—it still managed to vanish almost instantly. Black Rock followed it with Split/Second, which also flopped, and then Disney pulled the plug. By 2011 the studio was gone, and by 2016 Disney Interactive itself stopped publishing games altogether.

    So Pure lives on as a weird artifact. A critically adored racer from the Mouse House’s short-lived experiment in being a “real” publisher. A game that should’ve soared, but barely left the runway.

    @videogames@piefed.social

    A player riding a red ATV launches off a massive dirt ramp in a racing game, soaring high above a scenic landscape with lakes, cliffs, and castles below. Other racers can be seen mid-air in the distance, while sailboats dot the water far below. Game HUD elements display race stats, including lap progress, position, and a speed boost indicator.
     

    Farmiga is a farming simulator for the Commodore Amiga. Yes, you read that right. Somebody made Stardew Valley for your A500.

    It started out in AMOS, which made for a clunky, memory-hungry, not exactly smooth experience. Then the dev—Paweł “tukinem” Tukatsch—rewrote the whole thing so it would actually run on real hardware without crying for 1.5 MB of RAM. Now it works on OCS, ECS, or AGA with Kickstart 1.2. Around 500k plus a bit of extra RAM gets you farming. A full MB if you want music.

    The alpha is on itch.io as a bootable ADF. You can plant veggies, harvest crops, slap down fences, pay taxes, and wander into a shop. If that’s too boring, you can just make moonshine.

    There are mini-games. The “cow” one shows up again here, though right now you have to trigger them yourself with F1–F3. Event triggers are still cooking.

    It runs entirely on mouse. Menus, credits, save slots—it’s all point-and-click. Feels more polished than you’d expect from something still branded “tech demo.”

    Polish was the first language, but English and German are already built in. The music comes from Marcin “Eightbm” Białobrzewski, who handles sound on a lot of Tukinem’s projects.

    Older builds were rough. This one feels like if Maxis had secretly made SimFarm for the Amiga in the early ’90s. And yeah, wild-boar shooting and milk delivery were in earlier previews, so expect them to return.

    It’s weird and charming. It’s farming on a machine never meant to farm. Boot the ADF—less than a megabyte—and watch crops grow on your A500.

    Farmiga. Farm + Amiga. Simple and dumb. Which is exactly why it works.

     

    TL;DR: Disagree with ideas without disrespecting people. Bring receipts. Leave each other with dignity. No pile-ons. No mobs. No manufactured outrage.

    I want this community to be a refuge from outrage culture. Most gaming spaces reward dunks over dialogue. We will not. We can be blunt without being cruel. We can be funny without punching down. We can be passionate without turning every thread into a bonfire.


    What civility is

    Here are ten concrete behaviors we value. Each one is an action you can take right now.

    1. Kindness in delivery
      Speak to people the way you want to be spoken to. Direct is fine. Cruel is not.

    2. Assume good faith
      Start with the idea that the other person is trying. Ask a clarifying question before you accuse.

    3. Critique ideas, not people
      Target the claim, the code, the test, the footage, the source. Never the person who posted it.

    4. Bring specifics
      If you disagree, show your settings, hardware, OS, repro steps, or a timestamped clip. Replace vibes with details.

    5. Be flexible
      It is fine to revise, retract, or say you were wrong. That is strength here.

    6. Consider other contexts
      Different rigs and budgets change outcomes. State your constraints and read theirs.

    7. Encourage contribution
      If someone is new or unsure, help them level up. Suggest edits. Share links. Invite better.

    8. De-escalate
      If heat rises, slow down. Ask what would resolve it. Move from public to DM when helpful. Step away if needed.

    9. Respect boundaries
      No demands for personal info. No thread-jacking DMs. Stop when someone says stop.

    10. Stay on topic
      Keep replies aimed at the subject of the thread. Start a new post if you want a different debate.


    What civility is not

    These are behaviors that undermine discussion. Ten clear no-gos.

    1. Tone policing
      Dismissing the content of a message because you dislike the way it was said. Engage the point. Do not ignore it because the tone is blunt, frustrated, or emotional.

    2. Gaslighting
      Denying clear words or lived experience to score a point. If someone says a remark felt hostile, listen first.

    3. Dogpiling
      A crowd repeating the same dunk at one person. Even if each post is mild, the effect is harassment.

    4. Gatekeeping
      Purity tests. Real fan nonsense. Credential checks to join a conversation.

    5. Vote brigading
      Coordinating upvotes or downvotes on or off site. Let posts rise or fall on their own.

    6. Personal attacks
      Insults, name-calling, questioning motives by default. Compare ideas, not worth as a human.

    7. Bad-faith tactics
      Straw-manning, quote-mining, sealioning, or moving goalposts. Ask fair questions and accept fair answers.

    8. Identity attacks
      Slurs, dehumanizing language, or targeting someone’s identity. Zero tolerance.

    9. Doxxing or privacy violations
      Sharing private info, hints, or screenshots from private spaces without consent.

    10. Baiting and derailments
      Low-effort provocations, meta drama, and off-topic gotchas that drown the original subject.


    Clear examples

    Green examples
    • “Your benchmark misses shader cache. Here are my steps and numbers.”
    • “This reads like marketing. Can you add specifics and sources”
    • “Title says native Linux. Store page says Proton. Can we update the title for accuracy”
    • “I could not repro the stutter on 580. Pop!_OS, 32 GB RAM, Nvidia 535, Proton GE 9-10.”

    Yellow examples
    Context matters. Delivery matters.
    • Sarcasm used once to defuse tension
    • A single spicy joke aimed at a trend or corporation
    • Firm mod note that asks for edits

    Red examples
    • “You sound like an AI/ad copy.”
    • “Touch grass.”
    • “Everyone downvote this clown.”
    • “Real gamers do not play on easy.”
    • “You always lie.”


    How to disagree well

    1. Start with a steelman: “If I am reading you right, your claim is…”
    2. Ask one clarifying question before you counter.
    3. Bring evidence. Benchmarks, logs, timestamps, sources.
    4. State your setup and constraints. OS, GPU, resolution, controller.
    5. Propose a path forward. “If the goal is 60 on mid-range, here is what worked for me.”

    Humor, snark, and heat

    Jokes are welcome. Keep the punchline pointed at ideas, systems, hype cycles, and corporate nonsense. Do not make your fellow members the target. Roast the console war, not the poster.


    Tone feedback without tone policing

    You can ask for clearer delivery without erasing content.
    • Good: “I want to engage your point. The sarcasm is making it hard to parse. Can you restate the claim”
    • Bad: “Your tone is rude, so I will ignore your argument.”


    Bystanders: how to help

    • Add signal. Share data that resolves the dispute.
    • Defuse. “What would fix this for you”
    • Report harassment instead of joining it.
    • Offer quiet support in DM if someone is getting piled on.
    • If you have nothing to add, keep scrolling. Restraint is a contribution too.


    Mod approach

    We weigh intent and impact. Patterns matter more than one hot moment.

    Common actions
    • Gentle nudge in-thread
    • DM asking for an edit or clarification
    • Remove a comment or prune a branch of replies
    • Lock a thread that is melting down
    • Limited time-outs for repeat issues
    • Bans for clear malice or refusal to course-correct

    Not every violation is a ban. Not every heated moment gets a lock. We choose the lightest action that protects people and lets good discussion continue.


    Appeals

    Think we got it wrong
    • DM a mod with links and a short explanation
    • Add context we might have missed
    • If we missed, we fix. Reversals happen


    Quick self-check before you post

    1. Am I attacking the idea instead of the person
    2. Did I include enough detail to be useful
    3. Would I say this the same way face to face
    4. Will this add light or only heat
    5. If I am wrong, can I edit without ego

    FAQ

    Can I be blunt
    Yes. Be clear without being cruel.

    Can I swear
    Yes. Do not weaponize it at people.

    Can I call something low effort
    Critique the post, not the poster. “This needs sources” beats “You are lazy.”

    Is satire allowed
    Yes, if the butt of the joke is an idea or a trend, not a member.

    What about off-site drama
    Do not import it here. Summarize only what is needed to discuss the topic itself.

    Can I compare someone to an AI
    No. That is dismissive and dehumanizing. Explain the problem with the content instead.


    In short

    Civility is our floor, not our ceiling. We are here to build useful threads, share knowledge, and enjoy games together. If behavior turns toxic, it is a Rule #1 issue. We will act. If you go too hard, own it and adjust. That is how we keep this place better than the average gaming mud pit.

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