One million views can pay you $0 or $10,000. It depends on where you post.
A guy has spent two years posting short videos on every platform he could find. Instagram, TikTok, X, Facebook. Last month, his videos got about two million views in total. He screenshotted the number and sent it to his family group. They were thrilled. His mother told the neighbours. Then the payments arrived. In total, for the whole month, he earned $14.
He sat at his kitchen table staring at the number. Two million views. Fourteen dollars. He’d assumed that views turned into money in some simple way, and that he was just early. A few more videos, a few more followers, and the checks would grow.
His friend, a creator manager who has spent eleven years working with more than forty creators and has seen how every platform actually pays, was visiting for the weekend. He looked at the guy’s screenshot, then at his dashboard, then at the guy.
He said the guy hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d just posted most of his views on the platforms that pay the least.
He spent two evenings walking the guy through how each platform really pays, what the numbers look like, and where the money actually comes from.
Here’s every number he showed me 🧵
9. Wrecks her and then holds her
Rough sex can leave her shaky or emotional afterward, even when it was perfect.
After you wreck her, pull her in and get her some water. Tell her how good she was. That's what gets you round two.
8. Edges her until she begs
Get her right to the edge with your fingers, then stop. Do it again. And again.
By the third time she begs for your d!ck. That's when you give her everything, and she won't forget it.
Apple hasn’t announced the OLED MacBook Pro. The rumors about it have already changed four times.
A guy has been trying to buy a new laptop for six months. Every time he’s ready to click Buy, a headline stops him. A touchscreen MacBook Pro is coming. It will be thinner. No, lighter. It will have a new chip. No, the old chip. It will arrive this fall. No, next spring. He’s read so many articles that he can’t tell which ones are true. His old laptop is five years old and slow, and he keeps telling himself he’ll decide next week. He’s been saying it since May.
His friend, a tech journalist who has covered Apple for twelve years and keeps a spreadsheet of every rumor she’s ever seen, along with whether it came true, heard about the guy’s problem at a dinner. She laughed, kindly, and asked him a simple question.
Had he noticed that the story kept changing?
The guy said he’d noticed it was confusing. He hadn’t noticed it was changing.
She said that’s the real story. The headlines look like a single prediction, but underneath, it’s a series of corrections. She pulled out her phone and showed him her spreadsheet.
She spent the evening walking him through what’s actually known, what’s only reported, and how to read the difference.
Here’s everything she showed me 🧵
On one big music app, almost half of the new songs uploaded every day are made by AI. Hardly anyone is listening to them.
A guy has spent twelve years finding new artists. He’s an A&R scout, the person whose job is to listen to demos, spot a voice nobody has heard and tell a label to sign it. A few years ago, he got about a hundred submissions a week. Last month, he got more than three hundred. Many of them sounded fine. Some sounded great. And a growing number had the same strange quality, like a song that had been sanded smooth. He started to wonder whether he was listening to musicians at all.
He took the question to a friend who works in music distribution and sees the numbers from the other side, how many tracks arrive, how many get played and how many are quietly removed. His friend listened to the scout’s worry, then slid a notebook across the table and wrote two numbers.
Forty-four percent. And one to three.
The scout asked what they meant.
His friend said the first number is the share of new daily uploads on one big streaming service that are fully AI-generated. The second is the share of that service’s actual listening those tracks get.
He said the gap between those two numbers is the whole story of what’s happening to music right now.
He spent the evening explaining what’s behind them.
Here’s everything he showed me 🧵
Your WhatsApp can stop scam calls from ringing. Most people never turn it on.
A guy gets a strange WhatsApp call every few days. A number he doesn’t know, usually from another country, usually at the worst moment. Sometimes it rings during dinner. Sometimes it wakes him up. He has learned to let them ring out, but his mother hasn’t. She answers every one, says hello in a worried voice, and spends five minutes trying to understand what the person on the line is asking for. Last month, a caller told her that she’d won a prize and needed to confirm a six-digit code that had just arrived in a message. She almost read it out. As far as the guy could tell, that was just what having WhatsApp meant.
His friend, a fraud-prevention officer who has spent ten years handling messaging-app scam reports at a bank, heard the story over tea. He put his cup down and asked the guy to hand over his phone and his mother’s.
He said nothing about the scammers could be fixed. But almost everything about how easy they were to reach could.
He spent an hour changing nine settings on both phones. The calls stopped ringing. The strangers stopped finding them. And the guy’s mother learned one rule that matters more than any setting.
Here’s every setting he changed 🧵
On his way out, the fraud officer left the guy with one last line, and the guy repeated it to everyone who forwarded him a suspicious message.
You can’t stop strangers from having your number. You can stop them from reaching you.
If this saves someone you love from one scam call, repost the first post so the next person sees it before they pick up.
Follow for the details companies bank on you never reading.
Your WhatsApp can stop scam calls from ringing. Most people never turn it on.
A guy gets a strange WhatsApp call every few days. A number he doesn’t know, usually from another country, usually at the worst moment. Sometimes it rings during dinner. Sometimes it wakes him up. He has learned to let them ring out, but his mother hasn’t. She answers every one, says hello in a worried voice, and spends five minutes trying to understand what the person on the line is asking for. Last month, a caller told her that she’d won a prize and needed to confirm a six-digit code that had just arrived in a message. She almost read it out. As far as the guy could tell, that was just what having WhatsApp meant.
His friend, a fraud-prevention officer who has spent ten years handling messaging-app scam reports at a bank, heard the story over tea. He put his cup down and asked the guy to hand over his phone and his mother’s.
He said nothing about the scammers could be fixed. But almost everything about how easy they were to reach could.
He spent an hour changing nine settings on both phones. The calls stopped ringing. The strangers stopped finding them. And the guy’s mother learned one rule that matters more than any setting.
Here’s every setting he changed 🧵
One month later, the guy counted what had changed.
He spent about an hour on the setup, spread across two phones. The unknown calls kept coming, but nothing rang. His mother stopped answering strangers. Nobody had added either of them to a group. And his friend’s rule, never share the six-digit code, had become a family joke that everyone repeated.
He told me the best part wasn’t the settings. It was how much calmer his mother felt. She’d been afraid of her phone for years, and now she felt like she could use it.
His friend had one last thing to say, and he said it plainly. None of this stops a determined scammer. It makes you a harder target, and most scams depend on easy ones.