Knowing what you don't know
Raise your hand if you know what a Listserv is. According to Google, "a listserv is an email-based mailing list. When you send a message to one shared email address, the system automatically duplicates and distributes that message to all subscribed members". By today's standards, it's a pretty antiquated system, but it works and despite all the other options available for communication, listservs are still used across the globe.
I mention this because I myself am a member of a listserv. I have been for close to 25 years now and it's safe to say that listserv is just as active today as it was when I first joined all those years ago. Perhaps even more active. The listserv is comprised of education technology professionals from across the state where I work. It started off as just top level members of the technology team, but it as since expanded to all levels of user including general techs and classroom coaches.
Despite that, we still call it the "tech directors listserv".
The funny thing is, we have a Discord server too, but that is relatively dead compared to the amount of interaction that takes place via email on the listserv.
It's funny because technology is so expansive. Even though I know a little bit about a lot of things, there is still so much I don't know about a lot of things. You might find a rare person who seems to know a lot about a lot, but as I said, those people are rare, so pay attention when you come across them.
I feel like I post on the tech listserv a lot. I also feel a lot of times that the questions I have are stupid. Well, I used to more than I do now. I'm starting to change my attitude on it and accept the fact that I know what I don't know, and that is okay. I have a feeling a lot of times when I post on the listserv people see my name and they say "oh man, not this guy again". There are a lot of times my questions get virtually no replies.
I still haven't figured out if that's because it's a dumb question, or it's just so obscure that nobody actually knows the answer.
In the past, I might have let stuff like that bug me (okay, it still bugs me a bit), but then I have experiences like I did this past fall, and I don't feel so bad. I've mentioned before that every Autumn, I head to a conference in northern Michigan. It's a two to three day event where all the education technology professionals from across the state meet up and learn new things together.
Yes, there are vendors there, but we also have peer led sessions that teach us about cool tips, tricks, applications, and software that we may have not known about before. While I have group of people that I generally hang out with, it never fails that you end up talking to people you have never met before as well.
Not something I am strong at.
However, this past year, I can't remember how many new people may have not known my face, but as soon as they saw my name they were like oh "Bozz from the tech listserv". I still haven't figured out if that is a good thing or a bad thing, but they seemed to indicate it was a good thing.
Of course, maybe they were just being nice.
Like I said though, I had several people say something to the effect that they appreciate the honest questions that I ask on the tech listserv sometimes. They always say there is no such thing as a dumb question, and while I don't necessarily agree with that (I've heard some really dumb questions in my lifetime), I also have occasions where I don't mind being the dummy to ask them.
My thinking is, there is likely someone else who is struggling with the same concept. While it might be fairly easy to some people, it will never be easy for me if I don't ask. In these days of Google, and AI, it might seem like resources like this are less necessary, but I feel there is something special about getting the answer from one of my colleagues. Perhaps it's just the way they explain it, or more likely it's something more emotional.
It's that solidarity you get with groups like this saying "we are in this together", or "you are not alone". You don't outright say it, but the process of posting to the listserv and getting replies speaks for itself.
Long story short (TL:DR), never be afraid to ask those simple questions. You might just become infamous for them.
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I was going to mention the face, but you went there later. For me, it is my face they shy away from.
From a training perspective, when a class is silent, it means they don't know what the hell is going on :)
I think many people hesitate to ask questions because they don’t want to appear uninformed. In fact, the questions we ask often revolve around events that leave many people with unanswered questions. Knowledge can be acquired at any age. Culture and education develop as people share what they’ve learned, gain experience, and acquire new knowledge through research.
I've been on some mailing lists, but not joined one in a long time. I would prefer not to need lots of proprietary apps for talking to people and email is very standard. I've been known to ask questions on Stack Exchange and sometimes got good answers.
I don't get to go to any technical conferences for work and I probably missed out on stuff. I've been to some Linux ones as well as the HiveFests.
The Ruins of the Gilded Cage: On the Illusion of Freedom in a Broken Chain
The Futility of Building on Quicksand
You can keep building on Hive. You can lay your bricks, raise your walls, and paint your windows with the finest digital art. But you are building on a foundation that has cracked under the weight of its own hypocrisy.
Hive is broken.
Not because the code is flawed. Not because the cryptography is weak. But because the soul of the network has been hollowed out. It is broken because there is no freedom—only permission. And permission is not granted to the creator, the thinker, or the builder. It is granted only to those who are good friends with the boss, or those who work for him.
This is not decentralization. This is a digital court, where favor is currency and dissent is treason.
The Madness of the Oligarchy
It is a profound madness that the downvoting farming whales are running Hive.
They have mistaken the platform for their personal estate. They treat the reward pool not as a public trust, but as a private trough. With the tacit blessing of the "boss"—the centralizing forces that pull the strings from the shadows—they have turned curation into coercion. They wield the downvote not as a tool of quality, but as a weapon of exile.
They preach community while practicing cartel. They speak of openness while maintaining a closed door. It is a theater of the absurd, where the actors believe they are protecting the stage, even as they burn it down around them.
The Great Offboarding
And so, the exodus begins.
More people are being offboarded by the downvoting farming whales every day. Not through formal expulsion, but through the slow, suffocating pressure of suppressed rewards and silenced voices. Newcomers arrive with hope, only to be crushed by the mechanical weight of coordinated malice. Veterans leave in disgust, tired of playing a game where the rules change depending on who holds the dice.
But something else is happening, too. Something more dangerous to the oligarchs than anger: Awakening.
More people are waking up to the truth. They are looking past the rhetoric of "decentralization" and seeing the centralized hand guiding the vote. They are tracing the delegations, following the money, and recognizing the pattern of extraction. They realize that they are not participants in a revolution; they are fuel for a machine.
The Point of No Return
And when they wake up, they do not argue. They do not protest. They do not try to fix the broken chain.
They just leave.
They pack their digital belongings and walk away, never looking back. They migrate to sanctuaries like Blurt.blog, where the architecture itself rejects tyranny. Where there is no downvote button to silence them. Where their voice stands on its own merit, not on the whim of a whale. They find freedom in places where power is distributed, not hoarded.
The Final Word
You can keep building on Hive if you wish. You can keep pretending the cage is a castle. But the birds have already flown. The truth is out. And a blockchain without freedom is not a blockchain at all—it is just a database with delusions of grandeur.
For in the end, a community is only as strong as the trust it holds. And trust cannot survive where freedom is a privilege, not a right.
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At Bilpcoin, we do not fight for attention. We fight for accountability.
A literary critique of Hive’s centralized control, exploring why the platform is broken due to lack of freedom for non-insiders. Exposing how downvoting whales and the "boss" are driving users away to free platforms like Blurt.blog.
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You can keep building on a broken blockchain, but why? Hive is broken because freedom is only for friends of the boss. The downvoting whales are running a cartel, and users are waking up. They’re leaving for good. Find true freedom on Blurt. #HiveTransparency #BlurtRising
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If you are reading this on Blurt.blog, you are early. Like discovering crypto in its beginning. And best of all—there is no downvote button. What you earn, you keep. No sabotage. No fear. Just freedom.
"You are your wallet." Not a tool. Not a vessel. But your digital embodiment. Choose wisely what you embody.
"In life, never forget this: The universe keeps a ledger. Not in ink. Not on paper. But in the quiet echo of every choice."