. . . Because of the book, Exit by Thomas Davidson, which I have almost finished.  

Over the weekend, I heard an interview with Jon Ronson (The Men Who Stare At Goats) and I had added the book to my TBR; but now that I'm reading Exit I'm moving Ronson's to the top.  The conversation was thought-provoking and apropos.  Many of us have experienced or witnessed the phenomena of social shaming on public media.

 For the past three years, Jon Ronson has travelled the world meeting recipients of high-profile public shamings. The shamed are people like us - people who, say, made a joke on social media that came out badly, or made a mistake at work. Once their transgression is revealed, collective outrage circles with the force of a hurricane and the next thing they know they're being torn apart by an angry mob, jeered at, demonized, sometimes even fired from their job.

A great renaissance of public shaming is sweeping our land. Justice has been democratized. The silent majority are getting a voice. But what are we doing with our voice? We are mercilessly finding people's faults. We are defining the boundaries of normality by ruining the lives of those outside it. We are using shame as a form of social control.

Simultaneously powerful and hilarious in the way only Jon Ronson can be, So You've Been Publicly Shamed is a deeply honest book about modern life, full of eye-opening truths about the escalating war on human flaws - and the very scary part we all play in it.

One example he mentioned in the program was a scene in a restaurant. At one table is a woman having drinks with friends. Behind her is a table of men drinking beer and exchanging dirty jokes.  One of the women takes a picture of one of the men, and sends a Tweet with the opinion that the men are acting like mysogonists (that's a big paraphrase -- I can't remember the exact message.). Anyway, the Tweet went viral; people who knew the man saw the Tweet, and when the man returned to work on Monday, he was fired.  

The story didn't have a happy ending for the woman either, she received hate messages and death threats for months afterwards.

The moral of the story is:  well, you all know what it is.

(Update -- not quite next on my list after all.  I'm on the library waiting list.  Looks like it will be a few weeks.)

-----------------------------------------------------------------

so I said no more updates on Exit, but now I'm cheating and tacking it on to my announcement of Next Book To Read.  Obviously,  this is where you skip it if you're tired of them:

In Exit, two people who have done nothing wrong are being persecuted by social media because of circumstances over which they have no control.  They are set up and falsely accused, and the entire world is jumping on the bandwagon.

an acquaintance who lives on the floor below them adds this to her Facebook page:

Don't know about anyone else, but I live below two terrorists. You see the news today? 2 terorists from Cambridge? That’s them. Her name is Rain. Yeah, Rain. Cringe, cringe, cringe. I don’t know her boyfriend’s name. Never asked, never bothered, never cared. But those 2 are all effed up. This morning I went 2 my parked car behind my bldg, 2 go 2 work (confession: I have a job), and saw them sleeping in their car!!! Its like uh November? Cold? Or should I say Novembrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr????? And she wakes up and wipes the steamy window, makes a circle and looks out. I was like OMG sh’es crazy. It gets better. When I come home from work, there’s like 2 signs in her upstairs windows. U can see it from the street. Get ready…signs sez…”WARNING These Premses are Protectd by CLOSED CIRCUIT TV 24 Hour Video Recording.” Yeah, honey, in yr dreams. The other sign sez…”WARNING All Supicious Persons & Actvities Are Immediately Reported to Our NEIGHBORHOOD WITCH.” Rain is an artist. ‘Artist’ is a polite way of saying ‘Hey world, I’m a effin’ nutjob.’ Artist? How about Fartist? LOL! Honey, u a terrorist. Like I said, I live right next floor to 2 FAMOUS TERORISTS. HEY WORLD – HER NAMES RAIN MOORE!!! RAIN RHYMES WITH INSANE!!! SHE’S THE NEIGHBORHOOD WITCH!!!

EXactly the kind of sensationalism that gets you noticed and shared, but also passing on a total lie, because you accepted at face value what you saw on other media.

Social Responsibility is a responsibility. (She said smugly.)

[This is spoiler-free.]

Tim has accidentally found his way into an unfriendly parallel universe with no apparent means to return.

Rayne, his girlfriend, realizes something is very wrong when he misses his follow-up appoint for his post-op after correction of a detached retina.

Rayne is impressive.  She figures out what happened, comes up with a plan, and follows him for a rescue attempt.  This is their meet-up:

. . .  (Tim said) . . .  "fill me in. I'm dying to know how you figured all this out. You are amazing."  (She does, then they discuss the world they've  been dropped into . . . )

"They could call the drone 'the stalker.'" Rayne gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles whitened. "With no restraining order." . . . "When I see so many up there, . . they no longer look like unmanned aircraft. They remind me of flying creatures from a million years ago. Because there's so many, it somehow changes them. In our world, you never see anything like this. Not yet. Here, they fill the sky like prehistoric birds. In a way, the future looks like the distant past." . . . 

Tim leaned forward and rested his forearms on the top of the front seat. "When I first walked into this place, this parallel universe, and saw the drones, it reminded me of something. Then I made the connection. Drones remind me of floaters. Floaters invade your eye's field of vision and block the world. In my case, they took over all of one eye. Out here, you look up and see drones. You see them floating against a blue sky. Always moving, always watching you, never letting you out of their sight. Same way with an eye floater; it appears to be watching you day and night. Watching every angle where you look. . . 

. . . just before I ran into you, he . . . (Tim was almost apprehended, but was saved by a distraction and took the opportunity to escape) . . . radioed in a drone. It was right over the alley."

"I saw it."

"He said it had cargo. It was carrying the next generation of drones called Tinks. It's named after— get ready— Tinker Bell."

"Seriously."

"Uh huh. If you think about it, it makes sense. Ever notice, the most dangerous organizations, think tanks, weapons, what have you— almost always have really benign names. The more innocent it sounds, the more lethal it is. If you run a company, let's say, that chops down half the Amazon jungle, why not call it 'Bambi and Friends.' If you run a think tank whose mission is to call climate change and global warming a hoax, call it 'The Lukewarm Foundation.' Anyway, a drone is also a type of bee. So if C.C. Seymour called his new drones 'the Killer Bees,' I'd be concerned. But when he names them after Tinker Bell, I feel petrified." . . .

 "I see what you mean." . . . 

"So," Tim summed up, "I don’t know what's waiting for us down there, but I don't think it's Peter Pan. Either way, it's almost time." . . . 

(They put finishing touches on the plan, then --)

 "Love you."

"Love you, too. But right now, my love is focused on getting us home. I would really love to get out of here. I would love to be home and eating cold, leftover pizza. I would love to never again see a dark angel flying over a telephone pole, or hear that asshole screaming inside the trunk. That's what I’d love."

So now, I have to see if their plan works.  Since I'm only at 50%, I have a feeling it won't be smooth sailing.

In a parallel universe, competing drone companies play a deadly game to compete for market share.  Multitudes of drones dot the sky, and people have no expectation of privacy anywhere,

Ted, an accidental visitor from our universe has become the target. In this universe, the corporations have all the power; aliens from the parallel.world have no hope.

According to the CEO of the company that currently has the edge:

"This is the guiding principle at EyeSoar Corporation. 'People are sheep. Drones are the shepherd.'"

From page 1:

For the last week or so, his world had rotated on his right eye.