Some good people are cops…

But all cops are bastards.

Some cops are good people outside of their work. Some of them do good things while at work. But, in the end, the very nature of policing makes all cops bastards.

Here’s a rhetorical example:

Suzanne grows up being taught that she should always help her neighbors, that she should work for her community. She’s a good kid with a good heart, and she decides that she can best serve her community by becoming a cop. Little Suzy grows up, goes to school to study criminal justice, becomes a cop. Her heart is 100% in the right place.

Suzy isn’t just a cop either. She’s a person with a conscience. She sees injustice in the world, and it bothers her. She sees corporations poisoning politics and the planet, and she protests against that on her own time. She sees racist legislators passing racist laws, and she wants to undo them. (The laws, not the legislators—Suzy doesn’t actually want to hurt anyone.) Suzy, the human being, is a good person. Everybody who meets Suzy, the person, likes her. She just wants to help everyone.

Suzy, the cop, has a job to do.

Sometimes that job entails arresting peaceful protesters who have chained themselves to the business doors of major banks whose capital is being used to proper fuck our planet. Suzy, the person, agrees with the protesters. She doesn’t want to arrest them. But Suzy, the cop, has a job to do.

Sometimes Suzy’s job entails clearing out encampments of unhoused people. Ripping tents so they can’t be used properly, taking people’s stuff and trashing it, arresting unhoused persons who are understandably upset that a squad of armed and armored officers are tearing through their things. Suzy, the person, has so much compassion for those unhoused people. If she could, she’d give every one of them a home. Suzy, the cop, has a job to do.

Sometimes Suzy’s job entails evicting people of color from the homes they can no longer afford in neighborhoods that have been gentrified. Sometimes that means taking all of a person’s belongings and dumping them on the sidewalk for the city’s waste collection teams to trash. Sometimes that means arresting homeowners who refuse to leave, who have nowhere else to go. Suzy, the person, understands that racists and elitists have conspired to push these poor folks out of their homes with unjust and inequitable zoning laws and policies. Suzy, the person, hates every eviction she has to enforce. Suzy, the cop, has a job to do.

Suzy, the human being, is a good person. Suzy, the cop, is a bastard.

Here’s another way to think about it:

We could build an all-Black police force of the most compassionate, helpful people we could imagine, but if the laws it is tasked with enforcing are written by white supremacists, that all-Black police force will end up enforcing white supremacy.

The police do not serve us.

The police protect and serve the system—and the people in power whom that system benefits.

This is not something that reform can fix. That doesn’t mean reform efforts are entirely pointless—making a shitty thing a little better is, well, better than nothing. But as long as our systems are designed to protect some people’s rights before and instead of others’, to serve capital rather than human beings, this will remain true:

All Cops Are Bastards

#Essay #ACAB #Police

Home in Distant Worlds

I listen to a lot of new music; or, I listen to a lot of music that is new to me. I treat music discovery like a collecting hobby, and my collection is vast. I can always find something new and fantastic to tickle my senses and sensibilities, so I spend more time listening to new music than I do listening to familiar tunes; but there are some musical series that I always come back to, year after year. These series are something of a musical homebase, familiar and meaningful to me, and I can always return to them.

The albums from my trilogy of hip hop trilogies are among my forever series. The Amory Wars, which is all of Coheed & Cambria's studio discography except The Color Before the Sun, is another.

If I were writing about something that belongs to the characters, like their powers, I'd write "Coheed's and Cambria's," but when I write about something of the band's, it has to be "Coheed and Cambria's."

English is fun, yeah? 😆

I've said this before, and I'll say it again: I've got a thing for concept albums.

But there's another series, not concept albums, that I count among my forever collection. It's undoubtedly the nerdiest of them, and I don't expect most people to feel the way I feel about them, but I fucking love the Distant Worlds series ❤️

I haven't even played all of the mainline Final Fantasy games, but I put hundreds of hours into many of them. The stories told in those games defined my adolescence; the music of Final Fantasy, then, was the score of my childhood. Whatever else was happening in my life, I always found joy and wonder and adventure in the worlds of Final Fantasy. That feeling lives on, for me, through the games' music as performed, con gusto, by the Distant Worlds orchestra.

I can—have, will—listen to my Distant Worlds playlist from start to finish without the interruption of any other music. It's an hours-long project that often requires a couple of days to complete; but so is the Amory Wars, and I have my own Neverender at least once a year. Distant Worlds gets the same love from me.

So if you're ever in a small town in Bumblefuck, Cascadia, and you hear someone humming the chocobo theme song in the grocery store, you'll know I'm around 😉

#Music #DistantWorlds #FinalFantasy #OSTs #Orchestral #Symphonic #Bandcamp #Essay

mosspiglet’s melomaniacal mind

About me

I'm a horny, introverted nerd living in Bumblefuck, Cascadia, with my beloved slut and our four-legged furry companions. I like to read and write, mostly science-fiction, fantasy, and smut. I grew up on JRPGs and survival horror, but I don't play video games these days—just can't make the time for them anymore. I do still listen to OSTs and tributes to my favorite games, though, because I'm still a nerd 🤓😁

Actually, I listen to a lot of music. Like, a fuck-ton of music. I'm a bit of a music junkie, TBH, and interactions with me will usually make that clear pretty quickly. I have a verse or a song or an album for just about every occasion.

In attitude and spirit, I do my best to live closer to Modest Mouse's "The Sun Hasn't Left" than Sole's "Possimism," but we're living in a death machine, fam. Some cynicism and bitterness are warranted, I think.

Anger surely is.

Those things are warranted, but they're dangerous to hold for very long. Radioactive. The Forest here helps me with that. Wonder, I've found, is an excellent tool for combating despair. The exercise required to explore the wilderness is also helpful, and my physical and mental health benefits greatly from the running, biking, and hiking that gets me into the Forest.

Playful, vigorous fucking works wonders, too 😈🤷‍♂️😁

It's good to have a variety of tools in the wellness toolbox, yeah?

So that's me, in a nutshell.

About m³ social

I've been drawn to the idea of the Fediverse since I first checked out Mastodon years ago in search of alternatives to the corporate social networks I was on at the time. I liked the idea of the Fediverse, but I didn't particularly like Mastodon. I had never gotten used to or learned to enjoy Twitter's 140- then 280-character limit, and Mastodon's default of 500-characters per post always felt close enough to that as to make no difference. So I created an account on Mastodon Social and … never visited much.

But I kept an eye on the Fediverse as it continued to grow, all these disparate social networks with different user experiences and unique communities getting cobbled together over this protocol that allows them to talk to each other despite their differences. That's fucking cool, fam. That's the Internet I was promised when all this shit started back in my childhood, back when I had to wait for my ridiculously low-res hentai images to load, one image at a time, line by line, over a connection that could be disrupted by a phone call. Back in the heyday of Hotmail and AIM and MSN Chat and MySpace.

You wouldn't know it based on what it is today, but MySpace was once a fun place to be with friends on the Internet. My homepage had Flash arcade games I embedded into the HTML and a short playlist of songs I curated to set whatever mood I was in. I could easily change my page's theme, and I did so regularly.

Gods, I never understood how Facebook—white and blue and boring and soulless—became the place to be on the Internet.

I was drawn back into the Fediverse when Pixelfed got its start, because I like sharing my photos. It ended up not being for me, but I've been active in the Fediverse since then. I never stayed in one place for too long, though. Nothing felt like home, you know?

I love you kinkycats.org, but a 500-character limit for posts is fucking maddening.

So I hopped around.

A lot.

The Misskey forks are fun, but also a bit overwhelming. Probably the closest in spirit to the MySpace of my youth, but I guess I feel too old for all that now. Glitch-soc should be the standard Mastodon experience. Akkoma can feel like a nice compromise between the Mastodon and Misskey experiences.

All cool, in their unique ways.

All missing … something.

Then along came littleFedi.

There are many neat little things about littleFedi, including Markdown support and a default character-limit of 5,000 characters, but there's one thing littleFedi does that no other Fedi client does; one thing that makes the software feel like the complete package to me:

littleFedi gives me a static blog for long-form writing that ties into my dynamic short-form feed.

Fuck.

Yes.

My experience with littleFedi on the project's official test instance, littleOne, confirmed my initial impression, and I decided it was finally time to try my hand at hosting my own Fedi instance. When the Little Computer People released littleFedi's code on October 1, 2026, I spun up m³ social, and here we are:

An ActivityPub client that fits my posting style, and a little corner of the Fediverse that's all mine.

Home.

Bienvenidos, familia.

About what to expect from me on m³ social

For years, I've maintained two distinct personalities online:

• As my vanilla identity, I share my photos and post short notes recommending music or reacting to something I read. Sometimes I write longer essay-like notes about music or sociopolitical things I've been thinking about. I boost a lot of nature photography.
• As my kinky identity, I post lewd notes whenever a sexy thought pops into my mind. Less frequently—because making time to write is difficult for me—I publish smutty stories. Vignettes, really, because stories need more time than I can throw at them. I will also occasionally share my lewd photos. I boost a lot of smut and sex art.

Here on m3 social, as mosspiglet, I'm going to be my whole self. Music, smut, political ravings, nature photography and lewds—all of what matters to me, together, in one place.

Everything I share here is intended for an adult audience.

I'll use a "blog" content warning on long-form notes to collapse the wall of text. My lewd posts and boosts will also be hidden behind content warnings; my sweary language will not be. If reading the word "fuck" in your following feed is going to ruin your day, mosspiglet's melomaniacal mind is not for you.

I'm not for everyone, and that's okay.

Be good to yourself, and be good to others 🫶

#Introduction #Essay

My Slut

"Slut" isn't a "bad" word in my lexicon. It's short, pointed, and instantly communicates that a person likes sex and seeks it out often. I like people who like sex and seek it out often; and I like short words with long lists of use-cases and meanings.

To be a slut, in appearance or behavior, is to pursue the fulfillment of desire without shame or guile. Sluts are honest and transparent about what they want, and what they want is good fucking fun. A slut, in my mind, is the best, most fun kind of person to know, and the sort of person we should all try to emulate at least a little more often.

Of course, it would be irresponsible of me not to acknowledge the word's long history of weaponization by our patriarchal society, and its continued use by (mostly male) shitheads whose aim in using the word is to shame and oppress women. I like to think of the way I use the word as taking it back for the purpose of empowerment and endearment, but I know I have to be careful so as not to confuse my meaning with the shitheads' meaning in the mind of anyone who sees or hears me use the word. Context matters, as it always does.

You'll never see or hear me use the word "slut" or any of its derivatives to describe anyone, real or fictional, who doesn't self-identify as a slut. In the real world, I won't use the word even for those who self-identify as sluts unless I know them personally and we've talked about me using the word with them or to describe them. When I use the word in my stories, I do my best—through context clues—to make it clear that I'm using the word affectionately, as a compliment, or to describe a positive character attribute.

If you, like me, love and appreciate sluts for who and what they are, go out and spread the good word. Let's make this world of ours a nicer place for a slut to be a slut 🫶

#Lewd #Language #Words #Essay