I find it utterly fascinating how those who once stood at the forefront of the battle against encroachments on our freedom and the relentless grip of totalitarianism on our identity now seem to be embracing a paradoxical shift. These defenders of privacy, those who raised their voices against state intrusion into our private communications, biometric data, financial anonymity, and even the privacy of our children within schools, now appear to be acquiescing to a different tune.

The rise of the state’s surveillance apparatus during the so-called ‘pandemic’, coupled with the willing surrender of biometric data by citizens in the name of ‘safety’, paints a disturbing picture. Companies such as CLEAR have extended their data collection efforts in alignment with state interests, facilitating this encroachment on our privacy.

Our schools have not remained untouched either. The SEL agenda has been collecting vast amounts of data on our children, aiming to manipulate them in insidious ways. Even the digital devices handed out during the pandemic-induced remote schooling were not innocuous tools. They were meticulously tracking every keystroke, adding yet another layer to the intricate web of surveillance.

The controversial ‘ban TikTok bill’ (RESTRICT Act) is another dark chapter in this saga. The anti-CCP fervour was intentionally amplified, rallying the right-wing base to demand action. On the surface, the bill appeared to address these concerns, but underneath the veneer lurked a more sinister intention: ensnaring VPN users, accessing social media accounts, and effectively establishing a digital Patriot Act.

We’ve long warned about the impending takeover by Central Bank Digital Currencies (CBDCs). Could it be that the rise of Bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies was, in a way, tacitly allowed by those in power? Was this a means to desensitise us to the technology, only to fuel fear about their supposed vulnerabilities and offer a Hegelian dialectical trap?

Amidst this backdrop, why is the adoration for Elon Musk so unabashedly prevalent? One could speculate that this phenomenon arose in a carefully curated environment. Dissidents, long battered by assaults on their communication avenues, found Twitter as the last refuge for free expression. Despite uphill battles and clever manoeuvring, views managed to surface here, and like-minded individuals forged networks. There’s a hint of nostalgia and vested investment tied to Twitter—a subconscious urge to shield the platform rather than explore new frontiers, a departure from the trajectory of other platforms. Many individuals built their reputations on Twitter, sustained accounts for years, and witnessed its impact on their careers, relationships, and worldviews. They perceive Twitter, rightly or wrongly, as the new “public square.” But this perception comes with nuances.

On one hand, private companies, irrespective of their philanthropic claims or alignment with values, prioritise profit. Sometimes this aligns with your wishes, at other times it contradicts them. They have that right.

On the other hand, the “Twitter Files” revelations demonstrated a symbiotic relationship between the platform and the state. Twitter became a proxy for political agendas, persecution, and unconstitutional behaviour. This tips the scales, blurring the line between private and public. Twitter is no longer just a private entity. This sentiment extends to all social media companies.

This predicament raises a crucial question: Can Elon Musk’s “Twitter 2.0,” as it’s dubbed, be any different? The reality is harsh—it’s not only different but potentially worse.

The paradigm shifted under Musk’s helm. The rebranding of Twitter to X indicates an escalation, not a departure from Twitter 1.0. With Musk’s arrival, a new systemic vision emerged, brewing for over two decades.

My perspective on Musk is intricate yet simple. On one hand, he’s being manipulated. On the other, his tunnel-vision obsession blinds him to parasitic forces aiming to mould his trajectory. Musk oversaw groundbreaking innovations, though not solely by his hand. Credit is due, but with progress, opportunists thrive. His primary challenge? His bank balance can’t implement projects without compromise from outsiders.

Musk’s operation on his own platform, interacting within his chosen circle, is fair. But it illuminates the essence of X. Musk passing the CEO baton to Linda Yaccarino—Executive Chair of the World Economic Forum (WEF)—raised eyebrows. The alignment between her statements, WEF policies, and affiliated governments and NGOs is conspicuous.

Musk’s admiration for CCP-controlled ‘WeChat’ as the “everything app” is concerning. WeChat encompasses banking, communication, shopping, and more, along with citizens’ social credit scores tightly controlled by the CCP. Musk aims to create a Western counterpart, with Twitter’s acquisition as a means to that end. Critics argue that this acquisition fuels his AI projects with dynamic datasets from users’ DMs, tweets, and more. The intent behind the acquisition seems unique—a primary focus on data access. Within the context of X Corp, the true picture emerges, starkly contrasting Musk’s appeasement of anti-establishment voices.

Twitter, by Musk’s own admission, was financially and technically broken. The verification ‘blue tick’ process shifted from validating high-profile accounts to a pay-to-display model, requiring more personal data. While logical for human-bot differentiation, it’s another data-gathering instance. Support forms even demand ID copies for complaints or tickets. Yaccarino’s role in daily decisions and Musk’s shift to engineering further underscores the transformation. Her ‘freedom of speech, not reach’ clarifies that algorithm-siloing awaits those who breach the moving target.

Cash payouts to content creators hint at a trap for anti-establishment figures. They’re corralled into promoting the platform, regardless of its divergence from their pre-Musk grievances.

Hence, scepticism surrounds paid subscriptions. Are these subscribers boosting interactions for larger payouts, walking a tightrope around Musk for visibility, or funding a platform they once criticised under new leadership? Musk’s ambitions and reported endeavours demand scrutiny. Can we trust those who once opposed this path to now advocate for it under Musk?

In summation, given the evident WEF puppetry, Musk’s surrendering of political adversaries’ private communications to the Biden administration, and the implications of his ‘everything app,’ we must assert our opposition. We must resist funding the construction of our digital concentration camp and hold accountable those who seek to be on its payroll while betraying their own principles.