抖音p6监控发布原理实时监控监控
抖音p6监控发布原理
抖音p6实时监控发布是一款抖音监控发布软件，原理是每几秒检测一个或者多个抖音博主主页有新视频自动下载，然后自动发布到快手、小红书、视频号、百家号等4个平台
第一步、账号登录
软件最多可以多开5个窗口，现在演示一下登录方式，第一种是选择对应的平台，然后点击登录账号，这样可以获取到对应的账号cookie进行登录，或者你有账号cookie直接导入进行登录账号
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第二步、添加监控账号
监控抖音博主主页账号，也可以监控西瓜视频博主主页账号，软件会每几秒检测是否有新作品进行自动下载
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第三步、视频去重设置（可以不用）
这一步可用可不用，处理视频会延迟发布的时间，监控搬运是拼谁先发布，这个看个人需求，可以不选
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第四步、选择需要发布的平台开始工作
软件虽然可以不限制登录账号数量，但是只能发布一个平台，有其他平台发布需求可以多开几个窗口，多开的操作就是先复制5份目录，然后打开5个窗口，然后挨个登录。开始监控后假如有小红书1 小红书2 小红书3，监控了多个博主，先后下载了6个视频，软件的发布顺序是，小红书1 小红书2 小红书3小红书1 小红书2 小红书3这样顺序进行发布，发布后的视频会自动删除，不会重复发布
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视频号发布设置
视频号发布可以带封面，可以带扩展链接，可以发布到草稿或者发布带上原创
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快手发布设置
快手发布是否带标题、封面、允许别人下载、同城显示、允许别人拍同框为可选项，可以添加自定义话题，关键词挂车等
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百家号发布设置
根据自己的需要设置主分类，次分类，固定标签和话题即可，百家号现在需要在全局设置那里添加一个图灵的key
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在全局设置那里点击打开图腾，然后注册账号，充值1块钱进去，然后点击密钥管理，把那个key复制到软件的api key的位置，点击测试，正常识别则正常使用，后续次数用完自己到网站充值一下就好，很便宜
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小红书发布设置
小红书没有太大发布设置，目录就是否发布封面和话题
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全局设置
软件可以设置每个号发布的数量，监控的视频时长，如果是带货视频不监控下载，下载的视频名字自动加编号防止视频同名重复覆盖，支持只监控下载不发布，可以只下载到一个文件夹或者每个博主名字命名的目录保存，快手可以发布后检测是否同框，不能过同框过原创的视频自动删除等等
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#抖音监控
Greece, imposing her lower ideals upon the race. Rome should have been the servant of Greece: the hands directed by the brain. She would have made roads and harbours, conducted the traffic, reared the market place. She knew of the steam engine, employed it for pumping water in the age of the Antonines. Sooner or later, she would have placed it on rails, and in ships. Rome should have been the policeman, keeping the world in order, making it a fit habitation. Her mistake was in regarding these things as an end in themselves, dreaming of nothing beyond. From her we had inherited the fallacy that man was made for the world, not the world for man. Rome organized only for man’s body. Greece would have legislated for his soul.
They went into the drawing-room. Her father asked her to sing and Arthur opened the piano for her and lit the candles. She chose some ballads and a song of Herrick’s, playing her own accompaniment while Arthur turned the leaves. She had a good voice, a low contralto. The room was high and dimly lighted. It looked larger than it really was. Her father sat in his usual chair beside the fire and listened with half-closed eyes. Glancing now and then across at him, she was reminded of Orchardson’s picture. She was feeling sentimental, a novel sensation to her. She rather enjoyed it.
She finished with one of Burns’s lyrics; and then told Arthur that it was now his turn, and that she would play for him. He shook his head, pleading that he was out of practice.
“I wish it,” she said, speaking low. And it pleased her that he made no answer but to ask her what he should sing. He had a light tenor voice. It was wobbly at first, but improved as he went on. They ended with a duet.
The next morning she went into town with them。 She never seemed to have any time in London, and wanted to do some shopping。 They joined her again for lunch and afterwards, at her father’s suggestion, she and Arthur went for a walk。 They took the tram out of the city and struck into the country。 The leaves still lingered brown and red upon the trees。 He carried her cloak and opened gates for her and held back brambles while she passed。 She had always been indifferent to these small gallantries; but to-day she welcomed them。
She wished to feel her power to attract and command。 They avoided all subjects on which they could differ, even in words。 They talked of people and places they had known together。 They remembered their common love of animals and told of the comedies and tragedies that had befallen their pets。 Joan’s regret was that she had not now even a dog, thinking it cruel to keep them in London。 She hated the women she met, dragging the poor little depressed beasts about at the end of a string: savage with them, if they dared to stop for a moment to exchange a passing wag of the tail with some other little lonely sufferer。
It was as bad as keeping a lark in a cage。 She had tried a cat: but so often she did not get home till late and that was just the time when the cat wanted to be out; so that they seldom met。 He suggested a parrot。 His experience of them was that they had no regular hours and would willingly sit up all night, if encouraged, and
“It doesn’t matter, dearie,” she explained. “They know, if they find it open, that I’m in.”
The little room looked very cosy when Mary had made up the fire and lighted the lamp. She seated Joan in the worn horsehair easy-chair; out of which one had to be careful one did not slip on to the floor; and spread her handsome shawl over the back of the dilapidated sofa.
“You won’t mind my running away for a minute,” she said. “I shall only be in the next room.”
Through the thin partition, Joan heard a constant shrill, complaining voice. At times, it rose into an angry growl. Mary looked in at the door.
“I’m just running round to the doctor’s,” she whispered. “His medicine hasn’t come. I shan’t be long.”
Joan offered to go in and sit with the invalid. But Mary feared the exertion of talking might be too much for him. “He gets so excited,” she explained. She slipped out noiselessly.
It seemed, in spite of its open door, a very silent little house be
The ragged figure on the bench opposite opened its eyes, stared at her; then went to sleep again. A prowling cat paused to rub itself against her foot, but meeting no response, passed on. Through an open window, somewhere near, filtered the sound of a child’s low whimpering.
It was daylight when she awoke. She was cold and her limbs ached. Slowly her senses came back to her. The seat opposite was vacant. The gas lamp showed but a faint blue point of flame. Her dress was torn, her boots soiled and muddy. Strands of her hair had escaped from underneath her hat.
She looked at her watch. Fortunately it was still early. She would be able to let herself in before anyone was up. It was but a little way. She wondered, while rearranging her hair, what day it was. She would find out, when she got home, from the newspaper.
In the street she paused a moment and looked back through the railings. It seemed even still more sordid in the daylight: the sooty grass and the withered shrubs and the asphalte pathway strewn with dirty paper. And again a laugh she could not help broke from her. Her Garden of Gethsemane!
She sent a brief letter round to Phillips, and a telegram to the nurse, preparing them for what she meant to do. She had just time to pack a small trunk and catch the morning train. At Folkestone, she drove first to a house where she herself had once lodged and fixed things to her satisfaction. The nurse was waiting for her in the downstairs room, and opened the door to her. She was opposed to Joan’s interference. But Joan had come prepared for that. “Let me have a talk with her,” she said. “I think I’ve found out what it is that is causing all the trouble.”
The nurse shot her a swift glance. “I’m glad of that,” she sa