As Trump meets with QAnon influencers, the conspiracy theory's adherents beg for dictatorship nbcnews.com/tech/internet/…
The pro-Trump internet has been calling for Trump to "#crosstherubicon," a reference to Caesar kickstarting a dictatorship.
This was a direct push from Ron Watkins, who runs the QAnon hub where Q posts, last week. Now it's being pushed by the Arizona GOP. nbcnews.com/tech/internet/…
It's hard to express how divorced from reality the pro-Trump internet has become.
Some followers believe Trump is conducting a ground war in MAINE, and that he dropped a bomb killing 50k uniformed Chinese soldiers. Tens of thousands of YouTube views. nbcnews.com/tech/internet/…
I called the Maine National Guard and, obviously, contrary to QAnon rumors, there is no secret Chinese invasion of Maine.
But the pro-Trump internet is alight with new calls for dictatorship and fantasies about Trump as an irremovable wartime president.
This community existed before Q, but it was a series of disparate political movements without a centralized messaging strategy. Some anti-vaxxers, some NWO/InfoWars people, some Tea Party people.
It is now a formalized network graph used for targeted messaging and harassment.
The irony that this "American patriot movement" is run by a guy in Japan operating a site otherwise used by diaper fetishists is, in fact, lost on a lot of these people.
People are still hanging on Q's every word, and look to Q influencers for guidance in his absence.
New Zealand's government found that the white supremacist Christchurch mass shooter was "not a frequent commentator on extreme right-wing sites."
Instead, it was the YouTube radicalization pathway, "a significant source of information and inspiration." theguardian.com/world/live/202…
What was incredible, covering YouTube-abetted terror at the time, was the lies, the obfuscation, the impossibility of getting answers from YouTube.
Astronomical harm that I saw with my own eyes, and I was viewed as crazy and melodramatic for reporting on it.
Until Christchurch.
The next few months became watching a car wreck in slow motion. All of these kids radicalized by YouTube, then sent off to 8chan or 4chan or one of the more niche, dumber forums, begging each other to kill for the cause.
By the summer, I'd wake up on weekends and expect them.
The guy who ran 8chan, who spent the last several years in the Philippines, is driving a harassment campaign against a random IT professional in an effort to further the Dominion conspiracy theory.
He's doing it on this website, using the army of QAnon fans he's built for years.
This is not just a particularly amoral way to boost a dying conspiracy theory. And it's not just a terrible thing for democracy.
It's also just a rotten thing to do to a random fellow human, who woke up today the target of horrific threats just for doing his job.
I got started on this beat because an old college buddy of mine became a target of one of these conspiracy theories in the weeks after the worst days of his life.
The funniest possible TV show is just a straight timeline of QAnon, but the main character is a random civil servant watching it unfold.
—"Finally, undeniable proof of the baby eating. Now the important part: Wait for around for 3 years."
—"Shouldn't we arrest them?"
—"…no."
"Mr. Trump is ready to publicly arrest the cabal for kidnapping and murdering children."
"Okay, cool, let's do this thing."
"No, we must allude to it with vague poems on a site otherwise used by adult diaper fetishists."
"Look, guys, I don't know about you, but the president taking down a cabal of child eaters seems urgent and… important? I really think he should be taking credit for this publicly instead of haikus on the diaper site. He'd be a hero."