God damn, not this shit again

If Medium Were Human, I’d Stab It To Death With A Blunt Spoon

More self-flagellation, Reverend?

Frank T Bird
5 min readMar 19



I’m sick of having to bitch about this damn platform

But what is a Medium streetwalker to do when your articles about Medium get a whopping scrotum stretching 100+ views while all the rest get under 50 views?

Well stop bitching about it Frank or fuck off.

What’s that? I’ll get to you, you fuck puppet.

But first, let’s talk about this Medium ‘Boost’, which is like the literary crackhead version of the Paul Hollywood handshake, where some totally unqualified editor of an imaginary publication gets to decide whether to suggest a story to Medium for a ‘boost’.

I’ve been back on this platform for about two weeks, and I’m beginning to remember why it opened up these psychotic tendencies in me last time

Yer write an article about Meditation, and some goofball ‘suggests’ it, then Medium says yes and next thing, it’s got 1.5k views, and it’s earned yer at least $50.

So yer order the t-bone instead of the rump at yer regular Wednesday Steak Night at The Plough with yer wife Maureen, and yer sit there the whole time thinking, ok, that’s what Medium wants, I’ll write more of it.

But, the next day, you write an even better article on the same subject, and it gets a nipple-shrinking 16 views in three days cos no fucker ‘suggested’ it. And yer realise that:

Being on Medium in the boost era — and it is an era — is like playing the shit lottery. And the quality of your article has fuck all to do with it.

It’s more about what the unqualified editor of the shit publication you submitted it to had for dinner last night, and so-called boosting is just the latest willy shake that Medium writers would give underwater head for.

The worst thing is that there’s nothing you can do to control it.

“Create quality content” is the advice they will give you, but all that seems to do is take up more of your time. It does absolutely nothing to guarantee views.

So, what’s the point of creating beautiful content?

  • It’s like doing a beautiful shit only to watch it disappear down the toilet.
  • It’s like filling out your ticket numbers for the shit lottery carefully using a beautiful fountain pen.

You might as well just become the next diseased rat fuck to use ChatGBH in your writing. Cos, what’s the difference?

On a positive note

It’s good to be back on here being in touch with all the old faces again — brilliant but invisible writers who keep schlepping their foreskins or fanny lips or whatever daily through the cheese grater that is Medium.

They grate and grind and never cry and I don’t know how they do it.

Five minutes back on here makes me want to strap a damn cheese bomb to my chest and run into Medium headquarters yelling, ‘Cheddar Akbar’

You invisible writers are a bunch of damn heroes.

Cos, let’s face it, the algorithm doesn’t know what’s good. It just knows what sells, and that’s usually some story about how to write a story about how to increase views on your story.

And the editors of these publications don’t know, cos they aren’t editors. They are just regular writers who like to say they are editors, so they can act like pretentious cocks — not that even ‘real’ editors know, either, whoever the fuck they are.

The only people that know are the readers that might want to read your story, but they’ll never get a chance unless they are one of your fortunate 16 views.

So once again, we participate in the shit lottery week in and week out

Then we get sent a cheque for fifty bucks from Medium at the end of a month of writing every day, and we’re meant to bow down to the platform like we’re deranged fundamentalists.

And as I said, sometimes I get sick of bitching about the platform but I’m even sicker of hearing some meth-head say:

‘If you don’t like it, then fuck off.’

I told you I’d get to you. Now listen, you pricks.

Medium is not some fucking charity, you dumb fucking bastards

It’s not giving us all money for free, you fuck monkeys. Medium takes a fiver off every damn reader. It makes at least a couple of sweaty million a month. I’d say it keeps most of it, and yeah, it distributes the rest, but that’s not a one-way street.

Every fucker that earns even a cent of that dosh has sweated their damn nipples off for it. It’s an exchange of services for money, not a literary soup kitchen.

And yeah, if I ‘fuck off,’ how else am I supposed to promote my books without becoming a TikTok rimjob or stuffing cash into that bald cock rocket riding rat’s pockets?

And am I supposed to not vent about this shit? Am I supposed to hold it in like I’m sitting in a long meeting after a questionable burrito?

Because holding crap like that in is the kind of thing that leads to cheese bombs.

The world is a turd, and we all feel it now more than ever, and this damn platform used to be a place to express feelings about that and be heard.

Now it’s just a silent turd. It’s a turd that doesn’t even have human ears. It’s a floating turd in a river of turds.

It will probably soon become a turd that will promote your stories for an extra dollar like every other damn social media piece of shit.

And you fuckers who sit there and say ‘If you don't like it then fuck off’ will be the ones that helped to turn it into that.

So, thanks for that, you dickweeds.



Frank T Bird

Indie writer of unique psychological fiction based in Melbourne, Australia. franktbird.com