Sometimes you make something you’re proud of and need to keep it handy.
Reposting the relevant half of a previous post as it is now reality as I have just received a large quantity of Barako. Additionally, BBotE Ambassador service to Brisbane (Australia) is restored, so feel free to drop Dom a line.
There is a new BBotE selection now available in the store. This is a continued part of my interest in the historical coffees of colonialism and the part of my coin collection I like to call “These Are Also American Coins”. Years ago, sitting in a cafe in Hilo, I saw the marketing line “America’s Only Domestic Coffees” describing the fine produce of the Big Island. I knew this was wrong because I was familiar with the highland crops in Puerto Rico that had been there for centuries, but then mainlanders do seem to have a problem forgetting that PR is part of America. From a coffee point of view, the problem is that most of the historical coffee plantations in the wider American sphere of influence got torn up and replanted, because United Fruit was clearly a transtemporal corporate conspiracy dedicated to replacing things I love (coffee, pineapples) with things I hate (bananas). One moment, I need to go seed a new thread on abovetopsecret.com…
The Philippines have a longer coffee history than any current or former American possession thanks to being the Pearl of the Pacific. Wave after wave of traders and invaders showed up in the archipelago via the Straits of Malacca, heading for Manila, and all of them agreed that coffee was extremely important. Depending on the century, country of origin, and last port of call where they got cargo determined what strain of arabica coffee got taken to what island and then crossed with the native robustas that were already there. Because of this, the Philippines have an astounding amount of diversity in their coffee. Unfortunately, this also means every disease gets transported to the islands too and a blight in the 19th century almost wiped all of them out. The barako strain, rather than being arabica or robusta, is one of the coffee liberica species which was resistant to the disease, allowing the coffee industry there to continue.
The tricky part is getting it. For reasons I’m not quite clear on, the roasters of the American mainland are far more interested in importing Indonesian coffees rather than the Filipino ones. The doesn’t concern the Philippines much as they have plenty of their own roasteries and are every bit as prideful about “my island’s coffee is the best coffee”, much like the different growing regions of Puerto Rico. Lucky for me, as an extremely white man, I have access to the powerful logistics of the Filipino Cousin Network (FCN). If you have not already experienced the power of the FCN, it goes something like this:
- You express an interest in a $THING which is available in the Philippines, usually because your Filipino friend has kindly shared it with you.
- Your Filipino friend says “If you want more of $THING, I can get it for you from the islands.”
- You ask if they are going to the Philippines soon.
- They say no, but their sibling is already there.
- Their sibling’s spouse’s cousin has easy access to $THING.
- Sibling isn’t coming home soon, but sibling’ spouse’s cousin’s dad is a pilot and can just bring it over on his next leg to the States.
- Cousin’s Pilot Dad loves your friend’s grandma’s adobo, so if you can buy the fixings for grandma to make adobo, $THING is yours in the next 48-96 hours.
Your experience of the FCN may vary wildly in levels of complexity but it will be substantially similar in form with this example. A side-effect of the FCN is that there is absolutely no way to keep grandma, any grandma, from knowing absolutely anything she wants to know within the FCN. The grandmas are almost a hive mind, so that joke from Cookie Clicker is frighteningly accurate.
The name of the varietal, barako, is a bit of linguistic appropriation from Spanish. Verraco, Spanish for “wild boar”, became barako with the rough meaning of “stud”, in the animal breeding and machismo senses of the word. It is regarded as bolder than the arabicas and more palatable than robusta, an opinion I’ll agree with. The smell is sharp and the taste is flinty and rich, very much reflecting the fresh, ashy volcanic soils of the island. Not quite slopes of Mt. Pinatubo tephra in flavor, nor Philippine Sea Plate basalt, but a nice mix of the two (forgive me, as the frustrated volcanologist have pulverized and smelled/tasted a lot of different volcanic rocks, particularly from this region). Taking it to my favorite taste testers at St. George Spirits, it apparently mixes with everything they make, and they wiped out the test bottle in very short order. Per Test Subject Shiraz, it smells like eating Reese’s peanut butter cups.
I will start with the dispassionate assessment: for a period of no less than 8 days, my @funranium twitter account was functioning in a very limited visibility status and then it returned to full functionality. I have no idea why it happened or why it stopped.
To roll it back to the larger picture, this has been another one of my adventures in customer service failure. I gave my feelings on how customer service is supposed to work, and how it is usually structured badly, in a previous post seven years ago. Now you may say “Phil, we aren’t Twitter’s customers. We’re the product.” and you’d have a good point. The argument that all of social media’s actual customers are ad purchasers, not the users of the services, ignores that we are the audience they are attempting to sell to. If your service causes enough pain that we aren’t there to sell to, your ad purchasers will wander off to more lucrative outlets. In summation, it’s tricky.
This all first rose to my awareness on Monday, March 5th when my Lovely Assistant complained that my threading seemed to be broken as she went to go look at my stupid Alternative Chowder tweets. I dismissed it as [shrug] “sometimes things on Twitter don’t work so good”.
(ASIDE: I cannot consume any animals that come from the water, fresh or salt, other than whales, so clam chowder has always been dead to me. As a small child, I noticed that whenever my dad ordered clam chowder he got oyster crackers, whereas I got normal saltines for my soups. I became convinced that you could *only* get oyster crackers if you ordered chowder, which made stealing them from my dad all the better. I then developed the theory that oyster crackers were what made my dad’s clam chowder, which sure looked like a soup, a “chowder”. BY SIX YEAR OLD PHIL LOGIC, not yet understanding the transitive property, I came to the conclusion that adding oyster crackers to any other soup automatically makes it a chowder. Now, as a grown ass adult, no one can prevent me from adding oyster crackers to whatever I want to explore “Alternative Chowders“)
On Wednesday, two other friends noticed they weren’t getting notifications from me when I made comments. Again, I dismissed it as Twitter being Twitter.
On Friday the 9th, the journalist Nathan Edwards dropped me a line to let me know that I appeared to be shadowbanned. He had used a tool which did a quick search scrape of Twitter to see if a user who wasn’t logged in would be able to find anything from my account. It came up with zilch. Something was limiting my contact and this presented two possible conclusions:
- My name had been handed to a Report Brigade for trolls to hammer such that the automated systems at Twitter would defensively limit my reach as someone that was suspect. OR…
- Something at Twitter was broken which had somehow impacted my account.
To be clear, Twitter has emphatically stated that it does not do shadowbanning. I am inclined to believe that, but I am also aware that they don’t *quite* have the firmest grasp on the monster they’ve created. While they might not have built shadowbanning as a feature, I am certainly willing to believe that effects indistinguishable from it have manifested as a bug.
Searching through my collective friends, I found one other person that seemed to be suffering the same problem, Meredith Yayanos. To be honest, I could fully believe she had pissed off enough people to justify Case #1, which is something she would wear with pride. As I help support her work with the the Blood of the Harpy, I was willing to believe I had inherited some guilt by association and been targeted in kind. But almost as soon as I let Mer know that she was subject to the same thing as me, she was returned to full visibility.
Okay, well, that’s weird…
As a middle aged white man who works in safety with a firm confidence in Systems™, this meant it was time for me to go delve into the customer service of process of Twitter to get the help which I felt I richly deserved and expected to work.
(You may feel free to start snickering into your drink at this point.)
My experience of the Twitter customer support process may be described as a running into a brick wall as fast as you feel like. It’s always a wall but the question is how much it hurts. The first thing I did was hit the Twitter support functions. I looked at their feed first and found the message to the far right. It appeared that they had a problem but, that as of the 8th, they’d fixed it and everything was fine. [checks calendar] By Friday everything should have been fixed according to them, but I still seemed to be stuck in a corner where no one got notifications from me and all threads I commented in had broken links, as shown in the conversation with Jamais Cascio.
As it was not fixed, I sent a reply to the @TwitterSupport account to let them know that things were not fixed. Unfortunately, due to the nature of the problem, almost by definition, they wouldn’t see anything I posted to them. Since that wouldn’t work, I checked the Twitter Help functions. They recommended that I use the @TwitterSupport direct messages. Okay, sure thing. Will do.
Ah, that was a good laugh. At some point in the recent past, @TwitterSupport decided to turn off their direct messages and set an autoreply but they didn’t decide to change their recommendation to pursue this route on the Twitter Help page. Speaking of Twitter Help, I would describe this page as roughly as functional as looping automated answer phone tree. If your question doesn’t quite conform to any of the pre-formulated answers to frequently asked question paths, well, you aren’t going to find any help here, nor an easy way to ask an open question, nor even really a way to make contact other than the @TwitterSupport twitter account. As of the writing of this post, there has been no response from any channel of communication.
The earliest suggestion on how to fix this, or at least get the attention of people who can fix things, came from friends who went to search what shadowbanning was and found this article. To summarize it’s idea, if you talk to the Twitter Ads team, rather than the Support team, as their purpose is to generate revenue they have an interest in getting your problem fixed so that you can pay them. For the price of $20, I was willing to play this experiment to see how the algorithm coped with two conflicting desires: limiting visibility vs. getting paid for visibility. I regret to inform you that the algorithm is capable of holding these two contrary thoughts. Also, Twitter Ads Support is very clear they they are stovepiped and do not fix, nor will they even discuss, any issues not related to advertising even if this would impact the effectiveness of their work.
Because the Army of the Caffeinated contains several current and former employees of The Good Blue Website, they noticed that I had vanished from their feeds and were a little miffed about this. When they asked me some questions as to what was going on and then looked into this there was a fairly universal “Oh. That’s not good.” In the last year, Twitter has had a lot of turnover without the best/any knowledge transfer. I am fully willing to believe that recent tweaks to the algorithm broke shit they didn’t expect and they’ve been working hard to band-aid things ever since.
And then, just as mysteriously, on March 13th I returned to full visibility. There was no explanation as to why I had returned, much less why it happened in the first place. It just happened, like a capricious god had granted me the gift of being a real boy again. That doesn’t sit particularly well with me. As a safety person, I demand documentation from my researchers for their potential failure modes so that we expect them and know what to do when they occur. When things like this happen, I want to know what went wrong, how they fixed it, and how they intend to prevent it from happening again, not just that they are “conducting an internal review to ensure that this doesn’t happen again”.
Since this seems to be continuing with other users, it isn’t fixed yet and the process, whatever it is, is ongoing. We don’t know what it is and all avenues for direct communication are decidedly blocked off. That is shitty customer service.