BOMBSHELL: TikTok Admits to Being for Government Control and Against Free Speech

By JM Talboo

Something happened recently that reminded me why I've spent so many years writing about censorship and free expression.

I submitted a TikTok advertisement for one of my songs.

It was rejected.

The stated reason was that the advertisement contained prohibited content advocating against government policy processes. The explanation further characterized the material as opposing censorship and government control and therefore falling under restricted political-advocacy rules.

I disagree with that characterization.

The video is artistic expression. It is music. It doesn't endorse a political party, candidate, bill, government program, or specific legislative proposal.

The song is anti-war.

It encourages people to pay attention to corruption.

It expresses the idea that government should remain accountable to the people.

And yes, it criticizes censorship.

But none of that tells anybody which particular government policy they should support or oppose.

I'm nonpartisan.

I'm not asking TikTok to agree with my politics. I'm asking whether an anti-war artistic statement and a general defense of free expression should automatically be classified as prohibited advocacy against a government policy.

That distinction matters.

This Isn't Just About One TikTok Ad

Someone might reasonably ask why I would write an entire article about one rejected advertisement.

Because censorship isn't only about whether one particular post disappears.

It's about how categories are defined.

Political content.

Restricted content.

Sensitive content.

Misinformation.

Harmful content.

Prohibited advocacy.

Those categories can be necessary in some circumstances. Private platforms have legitimate reasons to establish rules governing what they will host or promote.

But the broader those categories become, the more important precision becomes.

If someone says, “I oppose this particular bill,” that's plainly political advocacy.

If someone says, “Vote for this candidate,” that's plainly political advocacy.

If someone says, “Support this government program,” that's plainly political advocacy.

But if someone creates a song saying war is wrong, censorship is dangerous, corruption should be exposed, and government should remain accountable to the people, what specific government policy is being advocated against?

That is the question I believe TikTok's classification raises.

This Has Followed Me Into My Music

For me, this isn't happening only with written articles.

It has followed me into my music.

Before the current channel, I had two separate music channels taken down, and each had approximately 6,000 subscribers.

So when I started building my newest music project, I wasn't exactly naïve about what could happen.

The new project is Crashout Aristocrats, and the current TikTok account is @CrashOut.Royalty.

I've deliberately approached this project as artistic expression rather than political campaigning. The songs cover all kinds of subjects—sometimes serious, sometimes absurd, sometimes philosophical, sometimes intentionally ridiculous.

That's what music is supposed to be.

And yet I've already had content removed.

At one point, I had a video removed over fireworks.

Not a political statement about fireworks. Not instructions for making explosives. Just a video containing fireworks.

I later made a separate video featuring digital fireworks in which I talked about how ridiculous it was that the previous video had been censored. That video isn't the point here; I'm mentioning it only to make clear that these were two different pieces of content.

More recently, another music video was removed without any meaningful explanation of what specifically was supposedly prohibited. I appealed the decision, and the appeal has remained unresolved.

That distinction matters.

An unresolved appeal isn't the same thing as a confirmed violation, and I'm not going to pretend it is.

But from the user's perspective, there's still a serious problem:

What exactly am I supposed to change if nobody will tell me what I did wrong?

That's the larger issue.

I'm not asking a platform to guarantee that every piece of my music will be promoted.

I'm asking for understandable rules and meaningful explanations.

And when an artist repeatedly encounters removals, restrictions, or unexplained moderation decisions, eventually the question becomes bigger than any individual song.

Eventually, I started using a simple static image in some of my music videos that says:

“If you censor this, you're just censoring music.”

That's not a political slogan.

It's a statement about what happens when ordinary artistic expression gets placed into increasingly broad moderation categories.

The First Amendment Doesn't Belong Only to Popular Opinions

There is a reason I take this so seriously.

The American First Amendment tradition is unusually protective of expression—even expression that people find offensive.

In Matal v. Tam, the Supreme Court unanimously struck down a federal trademark provision that discriminated against disparaging expression. The Court emphasized that government cannot prohibit speech simply because it expresses ideas that offend.

SOURCE:
https://townhall.com/news/laurettabrown/2017/06/19/supreme-court-unanimously-reaffirms-hate-speech-is-still-free-speech-n2343286

SUPREME COURT OPINION:
https://www.supremecourt.gov/opinions/16pdf/15-1293_1o13.pdf

There is an important caveat.

TikTok is a private company, not the government. The First Amendment generally restricts government action, so Matal v. Tam doesn't mean TikTok is legally required to publish my advertisement.

But that doesn't make the constitutional principle irrelevant.

It gives us a benchmark for understanding just how deeply American law values freedom of expression and opposition to government viewpoint discrimination.

And it makes the casual classification of ordinary dissent as “prohibited political advocacy” worth questioning.

Section 230 and the Platform-versus-Publisher Argument

This also brings up another issue I've been interested in for years: what exactly are these enormous Internet companies?

People constantly describe the issue as “platform versus publisher,” but the actual law is more complicated.

Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act provides that an interactive computer service generally isn't treated as the publisher or speaker of information supplied by another information-content provider. It also protects certain good-faith efforts to restrict access to material the provider considers objectionable.

SOURCE:
https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/47/230

In other words, the popular argument that Section 230 simply says “platforms aren't publishers” is an oversimplification.

The statute specifically protects providers from being treated as the publisher or speaker of someone else's information, while also recognizing that providers may moderate content.

That's important because my objection isn't:

“TikTok isn't allowed to have rules.”

Of course it can have rules.

My objection is to the classification of my expression.

If a platform has the enormous power to determine what millions of people can see, which advertisements are allowed to run, which political ideas receive distribution, and which expressions get classified as prohibited advocacy, then transparency and consistency matter enormously.

The bigger these platforms become, the more consequential their decisions become.

I've Been Dealing With This for Years

My concern about censorship didn't begin with TikTok.

I've spent years writing about controversial subjects, particularly 9/11, government accountability, scientific disputes, and the treatment of researchers and activists who challenge accepted narratives.

I've experienced content removals, account bans, legal threats, disappearing posts, restrictions on videos, and changes in search visibility.

I've lost YouTube channels.

I've had TikTok content removed.

I've had individual posts removed.

I've documented what I believed were search-engine and platform restrictions.

And in 2020, one of my own pages was specifically targeted by a court-order-based removal notice involving material about the Sandy Hook controversy.

SOURCE:
https://911debunkers.blogspot.com/2020/05/911debunkersblogspotcom-censored-via.html

Whatever one's opinion of Alex Jones or the Sandy Hook controversy, that episode raised the question I have been asking ever since:

Where exactly is the line between suppressing unlawful material and suppressing controversial discussion surrounding it?

That's a legitimate question.

My Alex Jones Argument Was Never “Everything Alex Jones Says Is True”

This is another point that gets lost.

My argument wasn't that Alex Jones is always right.

It wasn't that every Sandy Hook conspiracy claim is true.

In fact, my own article explicitly acknowledged that I hadn't personally investigated the Sandy Hook evidence deeply enough to claim certainty about the underlying controversy.

My argument was more fundamental:

Analyzing an historical event, questioning an official narrative, discussing government corruption, and considering competing explanations are forms of expression.

A person can be wrong.

A person can be offensive.

A person can be irresponsible.

And a claim can still deserve to be examined rather than simply erased.

That's the distinction I was trying to make then.

It's the same distinction I'm trying to make now.

Controversial Research Should Be Answered With Better Research

That philosophy also explains my years of involvement with 9/11 research.

I've written extensively about WTC dust, researchers such as Mark Basile, and competing claims concerning explosive or thermitic materials.

These are controversial subjects.

I have strong opinions about them.

But I don't believe controversy makes scientific investigation illegitimate.

Researchers should be criticized.

Experiments should be reproducible.

Samples should have documented provenance.

Funding should be accounted for.

Peer review matters.

And people who donate money to research have legitimate reasons to demand results.

If someone can demonstrate that an experiment was flawed, demonstrate it.

If a chemical analysis is wrong, explain why.

If a conclusion doesn't follow from the evidence, show the problem.

If another hypothesis fits the observations better, present it.

That's how inquiry is supposed to work.

You defeat bad evidence with better evidence.

The Mark Basile Controversy

One of my articles discussed chemical engineer Mark Basile and the controversy surrounding his 9/11-related research.

I wrote that Basile allegedly lost his job in connection with his research. I also discussed competing explanations, including concerns about the use of workplace laboratory resources and disputes over his research, funding, timelines, and results.

I'm not claiming that every allegation surrounding that episode has been independently proven.

In fact, that is exactly why I think the subject should remain discussable.

If a researcher was fired for misconduct, that's important.

If workplace resources were improperly used, that's important.

If his scientific conclusions were wrong, that's important.

If his public association with controversial research contributed to employment consequences, that's important too.

Those are different claims.

They should be investigated separately rather than collapsed into a convenient narrative.

SOURCE:
https://911debunkers.blogspot.com/2023/06/did-chemical-engineer-mark-basile-lose.html?m=1

That article also documents my dispute with another researcher over WTC dust samples that I had provided for proposed testing.

Again, reasonable people can disagree about what those events prove.

But disagreement is not a reason to make the underlying discussion disappear.

The Meeting With the Man I Suspected Might Be an Agent

There was another episode from my activism that stayed with me.

Years ago, a man contacted me through the 9/11 Truth community and wanted to meet to discuss activism.

My then-wife Angie and I agreed to meet him at a Mexican restaurant.

Initially everything seemed normal.

During the meeting, however, he began manipulating what appeared to be an electronic device in his bag. When I asked about it, I received what I remember as a mundane explanation for what the device was.

Later, the conversation became considerably stranger.

He repeatedly suggested that 9/11 activists might need to escalate their efforts toward violence.

I rejected that idea.

Completely.

Whatever someone believes about 9/11, violence isn't a substitute for evidence, investigation, journalism, or political action.

I later became suspicious that this person might have had some kind of government connection.

But I want to be precise about that:

Suspicion isn't proof.

I can document the meeting.

I can document what I remember being said.

I can describe what struck me as unusual.

I cannot honestly turn my suspicion about the man's identity into an established fact.

That distinction is important to me.

The Two Separate Janice Matthews Incidents

My late friend Janice Matthews of 911truth.org also experienced two incidents that struck me as unusual.

They were separate incidents, and I don't want them conflated.

In the first, a repairman recognized Janice from an extremely brief appearance she had made in an Alex Jones film involving protesters at the 2004 Republican National Convention.

That struck us as unusual because her appearance was so brief.

But unusual isn't proof.

The second incident involved a different man who was outside working on Janice's box.

He apparently wasn't expected or authorized to be there.

When questioned, he said he would retrieve paperwork from his vehicle.

Instead, he abruptly left.

I kept the material private while Janice was alive.

Only after her death did I feel comfortable discussing it publicly.

SOURCE:
https://911debunkers.blogspot.com/2021/03/rip-brave-janice-matthews.html

Again, I don't claim that either incident proves a government operation.

What they demonstrate is something much simpler:

People involved in controversial activism sometimes encounter circumstances they find difficult to explain.

Those circumstances deserve investigation—not automatic belief, and not automatic dismissal.

That's the Standard I Want Applied to Me

This is perhaps the most important part.

I don't want a special standard for myself.

If I make a claim, challenge it.

If my evidence is bad, expose it.

If my research is flawed, demonstrate the flaw.

If I misunderstand a legal case, correct me.

If another explanation fits the facts better, show me.

I'll consider it.

That's how inquiry works.

What I object to is the opposite approach:

“We don't like this person's conclusion, therefore we shouldn't let him discuss the subject.”

That's not debunking.

That's gatekeeping.

Search, Algorithms, and the Disappearing Record

I've also become increasingly concerned about the role of search engines and recommendation algorithms.

The problem isn't merely that an article can be deleted.

A piece of information can effectively disappear if the systems people use to find information stop showing it to them.

There is legitimate academic research demonstrating that search-result rankings can influence people's opinions and preferences. Research published in PNAS and later replication work examined what researchers call the Search Engine Manipulation Effect.

That doesn't prove that Google or TikTok is secretly manipulating any particular piece of my content.

It does demonstrate something more basic:

The ordering and visibility of information can influence what people believe and what they even know exists.

That makes algorithmic transparency increasingly important.

I've documented my own concerns about search visibility and disappearing material for years.

The point isn't that every drop in search ranking proves censorship.

The point is that when information systems become the primary gateway through which people encounter reality, we should take their power seriously.

Free Speech Doesn't Mean Everyone Has to Agree With You

I don't believe free speech means TikTok must publish everything I create.

I don't believe it means YouTube has to carry every video.

I don't believe it means Facebook has to promote every opinion.

Private companies have rights.

But I do believe users have a legitimate right to ask:

What are the rules?

How are they being applied?

Are they being applied consistently?

What exactly does “political advocacy” mean?

And perhaps most importantly:

Why was this particular artistic expression classified that way?

Those are reasonable questions.

I Am Not a Partisan

I've criticized Republicans.

I've criticized Democrats.

I've criticized governments.

I've criticized corporations.

I've criticized activists.

I've criticized people on my own side of an argument.

My loyalty isn't to a political party.

It's to the principle that ordinary people should be allowed to investigate, question, criticize, create, and speak.

That's why an anti-war song doesn't need to be turned into a partisan statement.

That's why criticism of censorship doesn't automatically equal opposition to a particular government policy.

That's why telling people to watch for corruption isn't the same thing as telling them which political party to support.

And that's why I think the TikTok rejection deserves discussion.

I'm Not Afraid of Being Wrong

I believe many of the things I've spent years researching.

That's why I've spent years researching them.

But belief isn't proof.

I can be wrong.

I've been wrong before.

I'll be wrong again.

If somebody demonstrates that I'm wrong, I'll listen.

That's not weakness.

It's intellectual honesty.

The alternative is simply accepting whatever conclusion the most powerful institution tells us is acceptable.

I've never been comfortable with that.

The Principle Is Bigger Than Me

The more important point isn't whether I'm right about every controversial subject I've ever investigated.

It isn't even whether TikTok's moderator made the correct decision in my particular case.

The bigger question is what kind of information environment we want to build.

Do we want people to be able to question authority?

Do we want artists to be able to criticize war?

Do we want citizens to be able to discuss corruption?

Do we want researchers to challenge accepted explanations?

Do we want people to be able to criticize censorship itself?

I think the answer should be yes.

Not because every claim is true.

Not because every activist is trustworthy.

Not because every conspiracy theory is correct.

But because truth doesn't require censorship to survive.

If an argument is wrong, refute it.

If evidence is fraudulent, expose it.

If a researcher is mistaken, demonstrate the mistake.

If an artist is wrong, criticize the art.

If a theory doesn't survive scrutiny, let scrutiny kill it.

But don't confuse disagreement with danger.

And don't confuse political expression with political advocacy merely because someone is criticizing power.

Of, By, and For the People

That's ultimately what I'm trying to say with my music and my writing.

I want the world to be better.

I want people to be free.

I want government to remain accountable to the people.

I want corruption exposed.

I want wars questioned.

I want researchers free to investigate uncomfortable subjects.

And I want artists free to express ideas without having every criticism of censorship automatically transformed into prohibited political advocacy.

Of, by, and for the people.

Not because the people are always right.

But because no institution should be so afraid of ordinary people asking questions that questioning itself becomes forbidden.

I'm not asking anyone to believe everything I say.

I'm asking for the freedom to say it.

And if I'm wrong, argue with me.

That's what free speech is for.

Crashout Aristocrats

If you'd like to hear the music that prompted this discussion, check out Crashout Aristocrats / @CrashOut.Royalty.

The project is intentionally broad: conscious hip hop, experimental rap, humor, political commentary, absurdity, spirituality, and whatever else I feel like turning into a song.

Sometimes the message is serious.

Sometimes it's ridiculous.

Sometimes it's both.

But that's the point.

It's music.

And if somebody wants to challenge what I'm saying, I'd much rather have them listen to it and argue with me than have an algorithm decide that the conversation shouldn't happen.