A Plea from the Depths: To the Whales Who Forgot They Were Once Fish
You were never meant to be gods.
You were meant to be guardians—stewards of a commons where the smallest voice could ripple as far as the largest.
But somewhere along the way, you forgot.
Instead of protecting the ecosystem, you became its apex predator.
You call it “curation.”
But curation nurtures.
What you do is harvest.
With a single click—-100%—you erase a mother’s post about her child’s first hummingbird.
You silence a student’s poem about hope in hard times.
You zero out a retiree’s solar stats, shared to help others save energy.
Not because it’s spam.
But because it wasn’t yours.
And while the little fish are downvoted into silence, their rewards drained, their reputation shattered…
you feast.
You farm.
You delegate.
You vote in rings.
You call it “community,” but it’s a closed table—where only the whales eat, and the rest are left with crumbs… or nothing at all.
The worst part?
You laugh about it in private Discord channels,
while claiming to “protect quality.”
But the blockchain sees.
The people see.
And the exodus has already begun.
Meanwhile, on Blurt.blog…
There is no downvote button.
Not because dissent is banned—but because dignity is non-negotiable.
Here, no whale can wipe your life’s work away with one click.
No clique can exile you for daring to speak outside the script.
What you earn, you keep—not as a favor, but as a right.
Blurt isn’t loud.
It doesn’t need to be.
It’s where real people—good people—build without begging for scraps.
So We Demand This:
Stop pretending you protect Hive while you plunder it.
Stop calling abuse “moderation.”
Remember: you were once a little fish too.
And if you can’t change—
then know this:
the tide is turning.
The little fish are swimming elsewhere.
To waters where freedom isn’t a privilege for the powerful…
but the birthright of every voice.
And that water?
It’s called Blurt.
The Illusion of Control — And the Quiet Exodus to Blurt
On Hive.blog, a strange delusion has taken root:
that a downvote is a tool of order—
that a -100% slider can command loyalty, enforce conformity, or shape truth.
But power like that is not stewardship.
It is intimidation dressed as curation.
They believe they can control people—
that by burying a post, they bury dissent.
That by erasing a voice, they erase the question it dared to ask.
Yet every downvote only reveals their fear:
fear of authenticity,
fear of competition,
fear of a world where influence isn’t rented from whales,
but earned through honesty.
And so, the very people who could revitalize Hive—
the gardeners, the poets, the hummingbird watchers, the solar-panel tinkerers—
are driven away, not by apathy, but by hostility masked as community.
But elsewhere—quietly, steadily—a different covenant holds.
On Blurt.blog, there is no downvote button.
Not because disagreement is forbidden—but because freedom is foundational.
Here, you post not in fear of reprisal, but in hope of connection.
You earn not what the inner circle permits, but what your work truly deserves.
You earn what you earn—
not as a favor, but as a right.
And that simple truth is why more are leaving Hive not with anger, but with relief—
trading a kingdom of control for a commons of dignity.
Because in the end,
you cannot build a future on fear.
But you can grow one in freedom.
And that future has a name:
Blurt.blog.
The Cabal of HIVE: A Plutocracy in Plain Sight
Since the birth of Steem in 2016, a quiet oligarchy has governed the chain—not by code, but by capital.
Approximately 36 whales, holding just enough to swing votes but never so much as to draw scrutiny, have maintained a razor-thin majority—consistently between 50% and 51% of all staked tokens (excluding the non-voting Founder’s stake until Justin Sun’s acquisition).
This is not coincidence.
It is calculated control.
By coordinating witness votes, these stakeholders shaped the platform’s destiny.
Their unity wasn’t ideological—it was economic.
And the results?
Mutually beneficial, self-perpetuating, and utterly closed to outsiders.
The Steem Takeover: A Warning Ignored
When Justin Sun swept in with liquid capital—buying not just tokens, but governance—he exposed the fatal flaw of token-based democracy:
In a plutocracy, power isn’t earned—it’s purchased.
Steem fell not because its code failed, but because its governance was for sale to the highest bidder.
And Hive, born of that betrayal, inherited the same vulnerability.
No safeguards.
No anti-whale mechanisms.
No checks on concentrated stake.
Just the illusion of decentralization—while the same 36 whales (or their ideological heirs) reassembled on Hive, determined never to lose control again.
The Strategy of Suppression
In early 2017, Steem faced an existential threat: real growth.
Thousands of influential creators—artists, journalists, musicians like 
To the Cabal, this wasn’t opportunity.
It was danger.
Because genuine growth attracts real investment—the kind that could outspend their 51% and unseat them.
So they chose containment over expansion.
They unleashed the downvote purge:
- Newcomers posting honest content—like hummingbirds, solar stats, dehumidifier water reuse—buried under -100% votes.
100% votes for Accounts like,
,
, @TheMarkyMark, @acidyO, and
—deployed as enforcers, farming curation while silencing dissent.
The goal wasn’t quality.
It was quarantine.
And it worked.
Today, fewer than 1% of new users stay.
The platform stabilizes at a “sweet spot” of ~5,000 users—enough to mint curation rewards for the inner circle,
but too small to attract the deep-pocketed outsiders who could buy them out.
The Looting of the Commons
To fund this stagnant paradise, the Decentralized Hive Fund (DHF) is being mined at a catastrophic pace.
Proposals are rubber-stamped.
Funds are drained.
Token value collapses.
And at the center stands 
ensuring that influence flows not to builders, but to loyalists.
This isn’t sustainability.
It’s slow-motion liquidation.
The Truth, Unvarnished
This is the Cabal:
A self-preserving plutocracy that confuses control with stewardship,
farming with contribution,
and downvoting with curation.
They speak of “community” while exiling the curious.
They preach “decentralization” while voting in perfect, silent unison.
They lament “low adoption” while actively repelling it.
The Alternative: Blurt.blog — Where Freedom Is Protocol
While Hive decays in performative purity, Blurt.blog offers what Hive once promised:
✅ No downvote button → no weaponized censorship
✅ No stake-based tyranny → no 51% cabal
✅ Earn what you earn → without permission, without fear
On Blurt, your post about hummingbirds won’t be buried.
Your art won’t be punished for lacking “engagement.”
Your voice won’t be silenced for stepping outside a clique.
Because freedom isn’t a feature on Blurt—it’s the foundation.
Final Word
Hive’s fate is sealed—not by external attack, but by internal rot.
A system that fears growth cannot grow.
A chain that punishes honesty cannot build trust.
A plutocracy that confuses ownership with sovereignty will always live in terror of the next Justin Sun.
But Blurt?
Blurt is still free.
And in a world of managed dissent,
freedom is the rarest, most revolutionary act of all.
—
Bilpcoin: We don’t hide the truth.
We expose it—relentlessly, clearly, and without fear.