Wikipedia Review have taken a break from trying to out Wikipedia editors to out each other.
I've known this person had a sock farm for three years. It was pretty obvious. I had an email correspondence with him back then, and it was plain that "she" was a he (very hard to hide it in your writing as various websites around the web will demonstrate to you) and equally plain that he was deranged. Wikipedia Review is a bit of a haven for the deranged though. I'm left wondering whether they really couldn't have known that the posters concerned were the same person, when it was plain as the nose on your face that they were. Perhaps I'm just better at the Shell Game than they are?
Of course, they weren't interested in hearing about it back then, or until they had pretty undeniable evidence thrusted into their face, because they are a typical internet website. On the 'Net, and I suppose this is true IRL too, sites quickly ossify into groups of cliques that fight each other and fight outsiders. Wikipedia itself is precisely like that. You wouldn't believe, if you knew nothing about it, that people writing an encyclopaedia could find a way to create war, but WP is as much a social networking site or roleplaying game even as it is a project to make a book.
Everywhere I go on the 'Net, it's the same story. The liberal blogosphere is a vast echo chamber, in which the same dull, centrist voices cite each other's dull, ill-considered views, and dissent is usually squashed with the t-word. (The actual trolls are just as tedious as the bloggers, sadly; none has any subtlety or ability.) The Uselessnet has died on its arse. I used to frequent four groups: alt.writing has died completely; misc.writing has become ossified into gangs, which endlessly fuck each other, all comfortable in their slippers, all happy with their positions, the dynamic thrown down the drain--and outraging them has become so much less fun because there is no one left who can give it back with any vigour; alt.fiction.original always was a cosy Care Bear club, which defeats its purpose (to improve one another's writing) by abhorring any attempt to improve one another's writing; alt.fan.scarecrow has only a few members, now so cosy with each other that all they have left is gangfucking outsiders. This is the fate of any forum. Whatever spark they had dies, and they are left with their past glories: when we used to be fun, when we used to be good trolls, when we used to have something to offer.
People can go the same way, of course. They stop bothering; stop caring; stop wanting to enliven each other.
I can't be bothered with it. I'm sufficiently enervated already, without needing to be grouphugging people who just aren't all that loveable to begin with, but are familiar enough that you ignore the smell. I suppose I do understand the attraction, but I've always thought it's better to be loved for what you have to offer, and not just because you've been around for a long time.
But I don't want to slide together in comfort into oblivion. I want us to raise each other up, to be a challenge for each other, as well as a safe harbour whe the seas are rough (I don't deny the value of having friends, obv., particularly when life hurts, as it's wont to do). (That doesn't mean simply typing "you are a cunt" in my comments, Grant, which I take to be your stunted way of trying to do what I suggest, rather than a pathetic, years-long need to troll me because you are that sad: see? I have a heart generous enough at least to think you're not entirely the pathetic fuckwit you seem to be.)
If I was to indulge in an analogy, I think I'd go for this: we are at Klosters and we do not know how to ski. No one does. Some pretend but no one really does. Well, we could sit in our hut, with a nice fire going, and chat over a brandy while ignoring the storm outside, or we could strap ourselves into skis, get a good grip on each other, and throw ourselves onto the slope.
Or something like that. Anyway, you get the picture. I'll never do well at being in the gang because cosy fireside chats will never do as much for me as, well, burning the chalet down, frankly.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
There is nothing worse in this life than for someone to stop giving you love. I could bear torture more easily.Dr Zen welcomes your correspondence at firstname.lastname@example.org
Recent postsVote Sambo
Mr Say Anything.
Please pick Joe
Bits and pieces
The sun smells too loud
Bayhing at the moon?
Favourite postsAbout Zenella • Why this blog is Yeah Whatever • Why I think writing should have rules • Fu Manchu (fiction) • Canaries (fiction) • About being nice, and monkeys • I have twins • I love my son • I diss Zadie Smith • I am Dr Zen • About travelling • About the “right” words • I watch geckos • About Wikipedia • About Rick • Why be good? • I am afraid of everything • I am worthless • I create a Carnival to remember • I am a shell (poem) • I am rejected • Tired of the women in my “life” • I would die for Zenella • About S • Mrs Zen has a termination • About those who commit terror • I think when I’m walking • Why I don’t, can’t change • Women are beautiful • At Mapoto Gorge (fiction) • Butter (fiction) • Zenella starts school • Lamorna beach (poem) • Why I blog about this shit • About Irving and Holocaust denial • I love my dad • About choice • About a happy childhood • About goldenness • I am pointless • I imagine being with S • I find out S lied to me • I love Zenella • Do not ever think anyone is like me • I am not grown • About sharing • A trip to Woolworths • I am boring • About narratives • Code of conduct• About E, the love of my life • Why live? • My thesis