Civil moderation is the status quo at the New York Times. I have begged them to define what civil means.

But they are literally not capable of it. The editing is infantile, ignorant, and borders on illiteracy. I wanted to write this differently. But here goes. Kathleen Kingsbury is the editor of NYT Opinion. She is informative, transformational, inclusive, and probably the best journalist in America. Audio. Video. Comprehensive pieces on thermonuclear war whose compelling story leaps off the video and puts responsibility on America, and on America’s dinner table. I have watched this work with a lot of other people because I threw a party to pack the locals in. Party, party, party. And then the room went silent. You could hear people with their breathless gasp as the bombs went off. The film was Opinion’s poster child as well it should be.

Today, an Opinion video pop culture would be proud of.

Is Creativity Dead. Their question. Not mine.

Yes. Creativity is dead. Today, we bend our knee to the rich who demand art their way, or hit the highway.

Let me be clear. Sotheby’s is not for artists. Sotheby’s is for Billionaires only. They all know one another. An auction is old home week, they do not tailgate. It’s champagne and drugs.

So is journalism. But we definitely tailgate.

The Little Minions do the actual editing.

Each shop is different and people play musical jobs. These people make so much money (Publishers Weekly) that they are quite content with locking their lips with a key, and throwing the key away. If I was making six figures and up, I would throw the key away, too. I would give them what they want because I am a shameless whore. I doxed the supervisor here, Community Desk, on Facebook. I told people how they could find her. But it’s a two way street baby, and if you manage to cut my legs off at the knee, I will bloody hell walk on stumps if I can move the needle on better art, or any art at all, I would. Their journalism sucks cock.

This week, Lydia Polgreen described MAGS employing the word stupid. I tried it. I used the word stupid. I meant Americans. They threw me into the street.

I’m putting that in my book: Incendiary Comments.

One word they do not like, you’re toast.

Writing for them is a field test of mediocrity. Ross wants us to have more babies.

I’m all for, fucking. But not the baby part. No Ross, we need LESS babies. Edit that.

Their Community Desk hangs up on me all the time. They do not like me and I do not think they are people. They are animal monstrocities. And their gatekeepers are stupid These are people who only look down when they walk.

Many moderators were fired. They bring AI into it. AI decides who gets in and who gets the back alley. Now, we are trying (failing) to make our manuscripts.

I hate these people. And I hate their publication. It’s garbage, and so are they.

No one person can keep this Hole In The Wall Gang organized. It’s sheer chaos at the New York Times. People do what they want. There is no accountability whatsoever.

The focus and the emphasis and the big bucks go to marketing. Marketing has a bigger budget than Opinion. These are not serious people.

I have spies.

I always have spies. These are the people who want their employer to know that they, too, are compelled to have to deal with gatekeepers and AI and 

The New York Times has a blacklist. Writers they do not like are put on the list. I am not alone. But they keep coming back and I keep giving them material that is provocative. They  really thought I would bend my knee like everyone else. After all, their experience is with people who comply because those people make so much money (per Publishing Weekly), I think the people who make that outrageous kind of money, would at least be a little kind. But no. I worked in New York editing books. Buying manuscripts. Negotiating with Amazon.

Amazon does not think any of the folks at the NYT are serious people. I see them differently.

They are little despots, and if they want to make trouble as they put words in your mouth (I told them not to do it but they did it anyway, you arrive at the conclusion that the entire publication is a rabbit hole.

Here’s what I wrote: Take notes. Yes. Creativity is dead. America murdered it. Look around. Take architecture. Please. The American invention of the strip mall. It’s ubiquitous, and you live in it. We are being devoured by greed and meanness. There are no more artists. What we have today is plain old hanging on.

Groceries. Kids. Nowhere to work. Nowhere to live. Nowhere as a destination. Comment moderation is to creativity like censorship is to freedom of Speech. NYT is the (yes, I have published here) most censorious publication I have ever had the misfortune of reading. Some editors like red pends. At the New York Times, they use a sword. 

This vid I am looking at is one more pop culture blitzkrieg with bells and whistles and the vibe is we’re having fun which is fine. I am a novelist, and a photographer (magazines). Rent here in Appalachia, yes, Appalachia, is comparable to New York.

Average space, working living, throwing paint, is $3,000 a month. I am the only artist who lives here (in this bankrupt village), when the mountains get cold, the NYC (seasonal) artists have luncheon and leave. For us, it’s about survival. I tell young folks to not be creative. It’s bad decision-making. This thing they call a video employs the word hope. Disingenuous. There is no hope. Only darkness. Only control.

I deeply regret being a writer. I hate what I do. Comment moderation is about increased engagement, not creativity. I deeply regret being a professional photographer.  It’s draining. “Do you do weddings.” No. Creativity is not nurtured in capitalism. Creativity is the past. It’s not about creativity. It’s about the money. I hit the casinos to make cash. I have never lost at Black Jack in 50 years. I refuse to give them what they want because what they want is stupid. I do not give a flying fuck what they want. They’re irresponsible. They fight for territory amongst themselves. And they need poor little me to yank their chain. – tim barrus