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Fanlib Retrospective, Part Three
Of course, despite my intent to post for the reward monies, I was continually drawn to debate on the forum for entirely rational reasons.
A protracted argument flared up repeatedly across many threads regarding "the one star bandit" (ie, someone gave my story a one star and it can't possibly be because of all the spelling errors), occasionally morphing into the crazy polite concrit is the only real concrit you flamers argument. Somehow, no one ever noticed the logical disconnect between "there's only one or at most a couple one-starring jerks" and the idea that they were the outnumbered and persecuted minority when they spoke up against it - even when expressing their outnumbered and persecuted views led to ten-page threads of people agreeing with them. Between this, the PMs, and the reviews, I soon had material for another story - in fact, nine separate chunks worth of one.
The Rebel Chapter One:
Perspective
It was a dark time for the kingdom – or Empire, as it was more properly called now. One of the few rebels, a lone remaining voice of sanity and defiance against the lies and hypocrisy of the ruling power, wrapped their dark cloak more tightly around their black leather outfit and skulked warily through the massive, queuing crowd of sheeplike followers that made up the 'free' citizenship of the land these days. The crowd was lining up before a great throne. High above sat the cruel and mighty ruler of the land, an arrogant queen who took pleasure in nothing but crushing the dreams of innocent schoolchildren. She was as cold and terrible as winter, her skin white as ice and lips painted red with blood. Some had whispered she ate the flesh of infants, but they were swiftly silenced by her Nazi-like enforcers.
As the brave, defiant freedom fighter watched from under the low hood of their heavy black cloak, the timid sheeple citizens offered up their most beloved work to the high throne, as the evil queen had demanded. She, of course, could create nothing and loved even less, and perhaps it was for this reason alone she ordered it. At her whim, she would glance over one and, simply for the joy of watching the tears flow down their face, crush it in her metallic clawed hands and order the guards to drag them away, smiling all the while atop her seat on the high, terrible throne made of the bones of children gilded in platinum and studded with diamonds.
"Excuse me?"
The heavily outnumbered rebel, surrounded at all sides by the legion of the fooled and cowed, approached the high throne. There would be no trinket offered by their black gloved hands, no bowing down before the false usurper who claimed she had the god-given right to do these horrors. No, for now -
"Excuse me?" the evil queen repeated, sounding a bit exasperated.
"What?"
"I'm sitting in a fluffy blue chair," she pointed out. "What's this throne you keep talking about?"
The scene collapsed and the rebel found themselves standing before a girl sitting in a chair.
"It's not really a big difference," the rebel said. "I mean, you're pretty close to that description."
Farla flipped through the notes. "And a crown made up of the bones of strangled puppies," she read. "I don't even have a hat."
"I'm just adding drama!" the rebel defended. "It's a valid literary technique where I match your inner evil with an equivalent outer description. There's lots of precedent online, like when people call trolling posters green and warty."
"A crown made up of the bones of strangled puppies," Farla repeated.
"That is exactly like being mean on the internet!"
The Rebel Chapter Two:
Without A
Farla rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay, fine."
The rebel gathered their nerve and inched forward -
"That doesn't mean I'm putting up with it!" Farla snapped, cutting them off. The ghostly beginnings of the scene wobbled a second, then popped like a soap bubble. "If you want to be stupid, go somewhere I won't hear you. What do you think you're doing here, anyway?"
The rebel pulled down their hood defiantly, exposing a girl's face with long blonde hair tied back in two pigtails. "I'm here to put a stop to your tyranny!" she shouted dramatically, clearly expecting to be recognized. Farla stared at her blankly.
"...okay. Could you be a little clearer?"
"Don't pretend you don't recognize me!"
"Okay, not pretending."
The rebel made an enraged sound midway between a growl and a cough. Then she said, "I'm kaginu4ev4rs452."
"Sorry," Farla said. "You really do all look alike to me. I think it's the numbers. Or possibly the way your pennames are all made up of the same handful of characters. Or the way - "
The rebel let out a frustrated shriek.
"...anyway, so you haven't really answered my question of what you're doing here."
"Uh, tyranny? I'm here to depose you from your throne."
"IT'S A FLUFFY BLUE CHAIR!"
"Details," said the other girl with a dismissive wave of one hand. "Look, we can argue all day about if you're actually a cannibalistic dictator queen sitting atop a throne made of the bones of children or not."
"I'm not!"
"And that's another thing, you're such an argumentative bitch. I mean, why do you insist on being right all the time?" the rebel continued. "You're already an evil cannibalistic dictator queen wearing a crown of strangled puppy bones. Isn't that enough?"
"At times like this," Farla said, "I think it clearly isn't."
The rebel looked almost pleased. "See! You're evil! And I'm the only one who dares to speak out! I am so awesome."
"Wait, only one?"
The rebel nodded and pointed back to Chapter One. "Right there. Lone, surrounded and outnumbered, all that. Oh, there are a few others, but we're few and far between, and it's fallen to me alone to do what's necessary." She pointed at her outfit. "Can't you tell by my character design? I mean, just look at all this black leather! It just screams 'anti-hero lone wolf rebel against the world'."
Farla eyed the outfit. "It screams something, certainly," she admitted. "A bit more clue than cause, I think."
"Huh?"
"Yes, that exactly."
The Rebel Chapter Three:
Being Right All The Time
Farla looked back to her white-backed spiral notebook, flipping through the pages as the rebel tried to work out what she'd said. "Never mind," Farla told the rebel. "Back to what you said about being the only one."
"Right!"
Farla pointed behind the rebel. "That looks like a lot to me."
The rebel looked over her shoulder at the massive crowd. "Yeah, those guys were the cowed citizenship who you're oppressing into supporting you that I was talking about," she explained.
"I'm here to liberate them! No longer must they bow before you!" She pointed at the letters and packages littering the floor around the fluffy blue chair. "Or offer up their works for you to insult, or falsely praise you out of fear!"
"Half of the packages are ticking," Farla said. "Ticking. And that section there, those red letters, those are from the Potterfen, I think they're Howlers. Howlers packed with TNT." She reached over the side of the fluffy blue chair's arm and grabbed one of the more innocent looking plain white letters. She opened it, pulled out the letter and read aloud, "'shut the fuck up you little bitch what if i didn't want to capitilize i. so stop being so goddamn annoying you little bitch'. Another one threatens my dog. I don't even have a dog."
The rebel processed this. "I will lead a popularist uprising!" she announced after a moment.
"After what you just said about all those guys being my supporters," Farla said disbelievingly.
"They haven't deposed you yet," the rebel said, "so clearly they need me to act."
"That's...that's an interpretation," Farla said diplomatically after a few seconds. "But what about that whole thing about how you were a lone and outnumbered rebel, and your black leather rebel outfit, and how you were being all defiant and unique?"
"Ohmigod you are so arrogant!" screeched the girl in a rage. She jumped up and down, stamping her feet. "You're such an argumentative bitch. Seriously why do you insist on having to be right all the time? What is wrong with you you bitch! What? You're pulling up something that was written before JUST TO PROVE YOURSELF RIGHT what is wrong with you? This is why everyone hates you!"
"What...?" Farla said in bafflement. "You just...last chapter you referred to description in Chapter One, and then this chapter you referred back to it again - "
"OHMIGOD!!!" screamed the girl, almost beyond words. "STOP DOING THAT!"
"But how can one have any kind of conversation if I can't refer to your past statements and actions?" said Farla. "Besides, your entire reason for being here is based on my statements from well before our conversation even begins, which was evident from when you said - "
"OMIGOD STOPIT!!! WHY WON'T YOU STOP TRYING TO PROVE YOU'RE RIGHT!?!" the rebel screamed. "WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU???"
The Rebel Chapter Four:
Shifting Speakers
Thwarted - thwarted but momentarily, and by the mad queen's insane anti-logic power rather than any true and valid reason, but, for the moment, thwarted, the rebel withdrew back to the shadows to prepare for the next attack, freeing the space before the gilded bone throne for the next supplicant to step forward-
"Seriously, knock it off," the mad queen said from her lofty if oddly fluffy and blue perch. The scene wobbled like it was made of jello, then collapsed under its own weight. Muttering curses in the black tongue, the rebel -
"Stop babelfishing, it isn't fooling anyone," the mad queen snapped, and the scene crumbled apart like wet sand. More quietly (but still undefeated!) the rebel withdrew (for the moment!).
"Okay, I think that's done," she said, brushing bits of sand off her chair. "Now what?"
"Not that you've reviewed any of my stories - " began the first, a young girl barely in her teens.
"Not that I'm saying you're deliberately being rude - " began the second, an older teenager.
"Not that I'm saying you're necessarily wrong - " began the third, an adult woman.
"- But I don't like the way you review and want you to stop, now if not sooner," they chorused in one voice..
"Isn't it supposed to be maiden, mother, crone?" Farla said, looking them over.
"The internet skews young," said the young girl simply.
"And between all of those fourteen year old fangirls thinking adults are so incredibly ancient, and society's unrealistic expectations for women's appearance, I think you'll find thirty year olds fully qualify as crones," said the adult woman less simply. "Besides, I think Gaiman's already beaten the symbolism to death."
"...I really think that's an unfair accusation based on reading the entire series in one go rather than in the format it was originally designed for," Farla said timidly.
"Then you have no taste. Also, you suck as a writer. Look at this digression!"
Farla twitched. "You threw that last part in on the assumption I can't continue the argument without furthering the digression, didn't you?" she accused.
"Digressing!" they chorused cheerfully.
She glared. "We will return to this topic, oh, we will. And it will be bloody."
"Digressing!" they chorused, sounding absurdly pleased with themselves.
"Fine. For the moment," Farla added ominously. "Streets will run with blood, the living will envy the dead... Oh, there shall be a reckoning." Then she sighed and asked in a tired, bored monotone, "Teenybopper trinity, why do you want me to stop reviewing?"
They began to speak at once.
"Okay, shut up. It's not like private messaging, I can't hold conversations with all of you without losing all narrative flow." She pointed to the youngest. "You go first."
The girl nodded and began.
The Rebels Chapter Five:
First Speaker:
Child
"As I said," the girl began formally, "It's not that you've reviewed any of my stories."
"Indeed, it's oddly like I've been going out of my way not to," Farla interrupted (rudely).
"Stop being rude!" snapped the girl. "Anyway. Not that you've reviewed any of my stories, but I've seen the reviews you've given other people, and out of the goodness of my heart - "
"Other people being your friends," Farla interrupted again.
"Stop being rude!" she yelled again. "And yes, okay, but it's really not - "
"I just think people should be up front about that kind of thing."
"You said I could talk!"
"I said you could talk before them. Nothing was said about me not talking."
"This is why everyone hates you!" the girl managed to get out before spewing a string of profanity.
"Okay, okay, continue."
"Having to be right all the time," the girl grumbled. "Where was I? Right. So I saw the reviews, and you're being really, really mean."
"Okay..."
"So you'll stop?"
"I think it might help if you first went into detail about what you mean by mean."
"Well, like, telling people they didn't spellcheck. Spellchecking is hard! I mean, what if they're actually five year old blind mentally retarded preschoolers, who also have a muscle disorder that makes typing hard, and they don't have a computer at home so they can only spellcheck at school, and - "
"Is that true for any of the people you know?" Farla, (ever rude), once again interrupted.
"Well, no. But there are lots of people I don't know, and it could be true for them. Besides, there are lots of five year olds."
"Five year olds aren't supposed to be on the site."
"But what if they are?!"
"Then they just learned an important lesson about lying about their age." Farla paused a moment to smile with amusement at the thought of crying five year olds, her blood-covered lips drawing back -
"I thought you had left!" Farla yelled at the rebel.
"I am defiant!"
"Oh, whatever. Continue," she said.
"Well, maybe they're fifteen, or even thirteen," the girl said. "That's still way too young to spellcheck. So you should be nice to them. How would you have felt if someone had- "
"I could when I was thirteen," Farla interrupted (rudely).
"OMG this is why everyone hates you!" shrieked the girl. "Would it kill you to agree some of the time? Why do you have to argue constantly! It's not convincing anyone! I mean, if you wanted a puppy to learn something you wouldn't be mean and insist on being right all the time!"
"You're not a puppy," Farla pointed out. "Puppies are incapable of higher thought processes. You aren't."
"You - you - you gerk!" The girl burst into tears. "Meany!"
"Er," Farla said. "I'm sorry I said you were more intelligent than a puppy. I was wrong."
The girl quieted, still sniffling a bit. "Okay. I forgive you. Let's be internet friends!"
"Let's not," Farla said. "It's not you, it's me. Anyway," she pointed to the older teenager, "you next."
The Rebels Chapter Six:
Second Speaker:
Teenager
The teenager stepped forward as the girl, still sniffling a bit, stepped back, and began,
"As I said," the teenager began, "Not that I'm saying you're deliberately being rude, I mean, unless you are, not that I'm saying you necessarily are you understand, just putting the possibility out there, just as a - "
"The point," Farla reminded.
"Okay. Have you considered...not being rude?"
"As with the girl above, I must suggest you first define the word," Farla said. "As I often find that what I consider meanness or rudeness is different than what people who complain to me mean by the word."
"Well, my reviews," the teenager said. "They're not rude. Right?"
"Sure..."
"And your reviews are meaner than my reviews."
"Sure..."
"So your reviews are rude!"
"Doesn't follow," Farla dismissed (probably rudely).
"So you're saying my reviews are bad?!"
"Again: doesn't follow," Farla dismissed (definitely rudely).
The teenager sighed and took a deep breath. "Look," she said reasonably. "If your reviews were like mine, they wouldn't be rude, right?"
"I wouldn't consider them such, no."
"So let me tell you how to write your reviews more like mine!" the teenager said quickly. "When writing a review, be sure to open with a compliment about something you thought was absolutely great. Then, for everything you criticize, mention two things you loved about it. Then make sure you end with a bunch more compliments and say how much you liked the whole story. And five-star the story so they won't be mad. Then, find out their address and mail them cookies! Homemade, that's important, and you should make sure to send a couple different varieties because people like different things you know, and you should include a couple brownies and some pastries as well."
"I'm aware of that," Farla said, not entirely truthfully as she had never heard that full of a version, "but choose not to."
"So you're being deliberately rude," the teenager accused.
"No."
"Then you're saying my reviews are bad."
"Not necessarily."
"That's a lot like 'yes' if you rearrange the letters and then remove eleven of them."
"Er, that's true," Farla admitted. "But I actually meant I can't say your reviews are good since the formula you mention can work or it can not work, so I can't make a set judgment on the quality of your reviews."
"That's a lot like 'yes' if you rearrange the letters and then remove a hundred and eleven of them."
"It's just that I personally feel that method lends itself to insincerity because it encourages people to find something to compliment, rather than complimenting what they like."
"So you're saying I'm never sincere when I compliment someone?"
"Not necessarily," Farla began. "Like I said I can't say since the formula - "
"That's a lot like 'yes'," the teenager said.
"Ironically, this entire argument perfectly reflects my exact problem with the formula. Encouraging people to be hyperbolic with praise inevitably leads to a perception creep. If you refer to something bad as okay, then something okay must be called good to properly express your feelings on the matter, and something good great. And as people begin to realize, rather than acknowledge it you simply shift the scale again so that bad is good, okay is great. And so it's impossible to simply say 'I liked this' because that now means 'It was bad but I'm being polite', as 'Well, not necessarily' becomes 'Yes, exactly what I meant, but I'm being polite'."
"That's also a lot like 'yes'," the teenager said. "Although I've lost track of how many letters need to be removed first."
"Bored now." Farla pointed to the adult. "Okay, you go."
The Rebels Chapter Seven:
Third Speaker:
Adult
"Huh, is this going to be another seven-chapter thing?" said the adult, looking up. "What is it with you and seven chapters?"
"You can't be sure of that. Besides, this is only the second time!" Farla defended. "And Elfin doesn't really count since it's just the opening."
"Like you're really going to ever continue it."
"Shut up and start."
The Rebels Chapter Seven:
Third Speaker:
Adult
The adult stepped forward as the muttering teenager stepped back.
"As I said," the adult began. "Not that I'm saying you're necessarily wrong, and I'm not saying you're necessarily rude -"
"I am!" called the teenager.
"It's my turn to talk! Anyway, I'm just saying that maybe if you were nicer about it you'd have better results."
"Why do you think this?" Farla inquired.
"Well, I'm nice about it, and sometimes I get results."
Farla boggled a second. "So? That means you have no idea how well being harsher works. You've tried it one way, and now you're arguing that because your methods didn't utterly fail, they must be the only way that works at all?"
"...no," said the adult after a moment. "Something really like that, only without the part where I sound like I'm wrong. Besides, that applies to you too! You don't know your way works any better than me."
"Okay, first, yes, I do. I've tried lots of different ways. That I've settled on one doesn't mean I never experimented, it means I came to a conclusion. Second, I'm not the one saying my way is the one true path here. If there wasn't any conclusive proof one way or another..." Farla paused, clearly fighting the desire to say something. She lost the battle. "And there is, dammit!" she added. (This was extremely rude of her) "Anyway, if there wasn't, that would just mean it was up to the individual which one they felt like doing. If you're arguing I should abandon my way for yours, you're implicitly suggesting your way must be superior."
"That's a false description," the adult shot back. "Even if both ways work as well, one hurts people's feelings. In the absence of clear information of how well they work - "
"Are people allergic to science?!"
The adult, being more mature, simply continued, " - one should consider which one is nicer, since if they're both equal clearly the kinder one is superior. My way doesn't hurt people's feelings. I'm not saying you should make up compliments. I'm just saying, if you don't have anything nice to say (or more accurately, don't have anything nice to say in a 2:1 ratio to criticism) you should just hit the back button."
"While that is a much more self-consistent method than the ones previously outlined," Farla said.
"Thank you."
" - I can't help but notice it means that any stories below a certain level of quality won't get any suggestion on how to improve."
"Well," the adult said. "Stupid fourteen year olds can't really be expected to improve anyway." (This was not at all rude of her.)
Farla glanced at the line above her in irritation. "And I'm the one always accused of being rude?" (This was very rude of her.) "Stop that!" (Ditto.)
Farla sighed (rudely) in irritation. "I'm not really sure why treating everyone as if they're at least as intelligent as trained monkeys rather than dismissing two-thirds of the group as below me is considered a personality flaw," she said (rudely). Glaring at the parenthesis, she added (which was rude), "But I think further argument may be impossible until I deal with this new problem." (This was incredibly rude of her, of course.)
The Rebels Chapter Eight:
Fourth Speaker:
???
"Okay, out with you," Farla said (rudely). "And stop that! If videogames have taught me anything, it's that ??? means I get to name you, or else you're a villain I get to brutally murder without repercussion. Unless you want to be known as Fuckwit for the rest of this story until I throw you off a cliff, stop hiding.
Shaking his head, Fu-
"Okay okay!" A cloaked rebel tumbled out of the narration. "That was rude of you," the rebel added reflexively.
"Alright, I'm listening," Farla said.
"I think you're rude," the rebel explained.
"I gathered as much," Farla said ru - "Knock it off! I can still name you!"
"Fine," the rebel said sulkily. "You totally are a mad tyrant dictator queen."
"[insert line about definitions here]" Farla mouthed.
"What? I have to go all the way up and find it?"
"You took advantage of the text to insert your own words, distracting from my narrative. This is just reciprocating."
"Mad tyrant dictator queen," grumbled the rebel, clicking back to the past chapters. "You want me to explain what I mean by rude. You could have just said that!"
"And you could have just said I was rude rather than interrupting."
"Mad tyrant dictator baby-eating arrogant queen who kicks puppies," grumbled the rebel.
"Strangles, I think."
"Whatever. Fine. You're rude to people by telling them to do stuff. Like, you could say, 'i think you should spellcheck because it's harder for me to read and enjoy your story otherwise :)' or something. And sometimes you're really mean. You use words like 'dumb' or 'OOC' or 'makes no sense'. Stop doing that!"
"And I would take this more seriously were the responses I get not so incredibly rude."
"Maybe some of them are rude, and maybe they shouldn't, but it's not that big of a deal. Besides, you're rude too, and that's what's important."
Farla leaned down to select another white innocent-looking letter. She opened it. "'fuck off Whiney bitch'."
"And maybe a few might be a bit mean but it's nothing compared to how mean you are."
"'do you know what a bullet feels like'," she read.
"Look, it's not that big of a deal compared to all the stuff you say."
"'it's kinda starts out as a very sharp pain it stays like that for a little bit eventualy it goes numb'"
"Okay, maybe it's a little worse than what you said but I really think we should pay attention to how rude you are -"
"'when the bullet is pulled out the pain is almost unbearable. let's remember that BITCH'."
Farla looked at the rebel over the top of the letter, radiating disdain.
"...I'll just go over there now, okay?" said the rebel, and bolted.
Chapter Nine:
Yeah, That'll Show Her
As the cowed rebel bolted before the mighty illogic of the evil and arrogant queen, the space before the throne -
"Seriously, quit it!"
"Defiant!" yelled the first rebel, and darted back into the crowd to avoid imagined retaliation.
Farla rolled her eyes.
Another one stepped up. "EH!!!" he screamed, holding up a card with two stars on it. Then, grinning triumphantly as if he'd accomplished something, he also bolted back into the crowd.
"Okay," Farla said slowly. "Clearly, the world has gone insane."
"Excuse me," said a new voice, elbowing her way to the front. "Hi. You're a bitch. Also, your stories suck. Can you review my story plz?"
"Case in point," Farla said, gesturing dramatically toward the newest arrival. Then she blinked a few times and realized she was talking to no one. "Great, it's catching." She sighed. "Let's get this over with. What didn't you like about my stories?"
"Something. It doesn't really matter. Review my story!"
"Review mine first," Farla said. "If you found them boring I'd like to know why."
"Okay. They were really boring. I didn't like them. You should have some more action and description and stuff. Kay, review review review review - "
"Did you actually read a single one?"
"Yes! Of course. It's just they were all very boring. I don't really care, review my story!"
"Okay, ignoring the fact my hit counter hadn't moved for about a day before you contacted me, you realize it's incredibly odd how you keep talking about them without mentioning so much as a title?"
"Um... It's because they were boring. You should be more original and have more action. Your stuff's all boring and cliche and stuff."
"YOUR STORY IS AN INUYASHA HIGH SCHOOL AU," Farla thundered. "I AM WRITING A STORY WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER IS A MASS MURDERER. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
"I'm giving you a taste of your own medicine!" the girl chirped. "See how upsetting it is to be criticized? Review my story now."
"I see how annoying it is to be lied to, but I don't consider the two synonyms."
"...?"
Farla translated: "I know you're making your criticism up. That, not criticism, is why I'm yelling at you."
"Oh. Review?"
"Look, if you didn't read it just say so. It's not like this is the first time someone's pulled this, and I won't be mad."
"...didn't read it," the girl admitted. "Review?"
"Fine."
"I also found your stories lacking!" shouted a voice from the crowd.
Farla perked up. "Really?"
"Yes. But out of the goodness of my heart I didn't mention all the many, many mistakes I found in them. Aren't you grateful? How would you feel if someone tore your stories apart the way you do to so many others?"
Farla opened her mouth.
"And don't say you wouldn't mind!" he shouted quickly.
Farla opened and closed her mouth a few times. "Huh," she said after a moment. "I seem to have been rendered unable to say that."
The rebel looked pleased. "Ha! I knew you would have no real comeback to such a clever argument! Therefore proving me right!"
"Seriously, it's not just me, right? This is insane."
The rebel was currently doing a victory dance. "I win! I win! I win!" he chanted happily.
Farla facepalmed. "At least it's useful," she muttered to herself. "I mean, without the stupid and the crazy I'd be down a good ten entries right now."
Ironically, the posting of the Rebel sequence served to draw more crazy out of the woodwork, leading to a single person accuse me of, all at the same time, committing libel against forum members by showing their arguments out of context/misrepresenting the entire argument (never mind that none of the characters are identified as particular forummembers, and to recognize any individual as having made the same argument you'd have to read the argument in the original context. This was, after all, a moderately Christian place and they were well versed in circular logic), while saying I was making up the more extreme things, while saying it was wrong because I was giving my view of their arguments rather than their own words, while being outraged by later statements that the more extreme stuff involved direct quotes. Before long it entered into that special quagmire of stupid. Summarized:
Reviewer: This is terrible because it's full of strawmen, but I guess that's what you intended so it can't be fixed.
Me: No, it's a parody where I exaggerate things. If you have examples of where I actually misrepresented an argument I'd be happy to fix that.
Reviewer: No the whole thing is an attack on specific people so it can't be fixed. Also, strawmen.
Me: Uh, no. Examples?
Reviewer: There are arguments here that you don't believe.
Me: I do not think those words mean what you think they mean.
Reviewer: See, I knew you were lying about listening to concrit!
Me: WTF?
Reviewer: You're frustrated, which means I'm right. Also you are an evil bitch whore who hates freedom and is just jealous.
Me: It is strangely like you did not read the story.
Reviewer: You're arguing, which means I'm right.
A protracted argument flared up repeatedly across many threads regarding "the one star bandit" (ie, someone gave my story a one star and it can't possibly be because of all the spelling errors), occasionally morphing into the crazy polite concrit is the only real concrit you flamers argument. Somehow, no one ever noticed the logical disconnect between "there's only one or at most a couple one-starring jerks" and the idea that they were the outnumbered and persecuted minority when they spoke up against it - even when expressing their outnumbered and persecuted views led to ten-page threads of people agreeing with them. Between this, the PMs, and the reviews, I soon had material for another story - in fact, nine separate chunks worth of one.
Perspective
It was a dark time for the kingdom – or Empire, as it was more properly called now. One of the few rebels, a lone remaining voice of sanity and defiance against the lies and hypocrisy of the ruling power, wrapped their dark cloak more tightly around their black leather outfit and skulked warily through the massive, queuing crowd of sheeplike followers that made up the 'free' citizenship of the land these days. The crowd was lining up before a great throne. High above sat the cruel and mighty ruler of the land, an arrogant queen who took pleasure in nothing but crushing the dreams of innocent schoolchildren. She was as cold and terrible as winter, her skin white as ice and lips painted red with blood. Some had whispered she ate the flesh of infants, but they were swiftly silenced by her Nazi-like enforcers.
As the brave, defiant freedom fighter watched from under the low hood of their heavy black cloak, the timid sheeple citizens offered up their most beloved work to the high throne, as the evil queen had demanded. She, of course, could create nothing and loved even less, and perhaps it was for this reason alone she ordered it. At her whim, she would glance over one and, simply for the joy of watching the tears flow down their face, crush it in her metallic clawed hands and order the guards to drag them away, smiling all the while atop her seat on the high, terrible throne made of the bones of children gilded in platinum and studded with diamonds.
"Excuse me?"
The heavily outnumbered rebel, surrounded at all sides by the legion of the fooled and cowed, approached the high throne. There would be no trinket offered by their black gloved hands, no bowing down before the false usurper who claimed she had the god-given right to do these horrors. No, for now -
"Excuse me?" the evil queen repeated, sounding a bit exasperated.
"What?"
"I'm sitting in a fluffy blue chair," she pointed out. "What's this throne you keep talking about?"
The scene collapsed and the rebel found themselves standing before a girl sitting in a chair.
"It's not really a big difference," the rebel said. "I mean, you're pretty close to that description."
Farla flipped through the notes. "And a crown made up of the bones of strangled puppies," she read. "I don't even have a hat."
"I'm just adding drama!" the rebel defended. "It's a valid literary technique where I match your inner evil with an equivalent outer description. There's lots of precedent online, like when people call trolling posters green and warty."
"A crown made up of the bones of strangled puppies," Farla repeated.
"That is exactly like being mean on the internet!"
Without A
Farla rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay, fine."
The rebel gathered their nerve and inched forward -
"That doesn't mean I'm putting up with it!" Farla snapped, cutting them off. The ghostly beginnings of the scene wobbled a second, then popped like a soap bubble. "If you want to be stupid, go somewhere I won't hear you. What do you think you're doing here, anyway?"
The rebel pulled down their hood defiantly, exposing a girl's face with long blonde hair tied back in two pigtails. "I'm here to put a stop to your tyranny!" she shouted dramatically, clearly expecting to be recognized. Farla stared at her blankly.
"...okay. Could you be a little clearer?"
"Don't pretend you don't recognize me!"
"Okay, not pretending."
The rebel made an enraged sound midway between a growl and a cough. Then she said, "I'm kaginu4ev4rs452."
"Sorry," Farla said. "You really do all look alike to me. I think it's the numbers. Or possibly the way your pennames are all made up of the same handful of characters. Or the way - "
The rebel let out a frustrated shriek.
"...anyway, so you haven't really answered my question of what you're doing here."
"Uh, tyranny? I'm here to depose you from your throne."
"IT'S A FLUFFY BLUE CHAIR!"
"Details," said the other girl with a dismissive wave of one hand. "Look, we can argue all day about if you're actually a cannibalistic dictator queen sitting atop a throne made of the bones of children or not."
"I'm not!"
"And that's another thing, you're such an argumentative bitch. I mean, why do you insist on being right all the time?" the rebel continued. "You're already an evil cannibalistic dictator queen wearing a crown of strangled puppy bones. Isn't that enough?"
"At times like this," Farla said, "I think it clearly isn't."
The rebel looked almost pleased. "See! You're evil! And I'm the only one who dares to speak out! I am so awesome."
"Wait, only one?"
The rebel nodded and pointed back to Chapter One. "Right there. Lone, surrounded and outnumbered, all that. Oh, there are a few others, but we're few and far between, and it's fallen to me alone to do what's necessary." She pointed at her outfit. "Can't you tell by my character design? I mean, just look at all this black leather! It just screams 'anti-hero lone wolf rebel against the world'."
Farla eyed the outfit. "It screams something, certainly," she admitted. "A bit more clue than cause, I think."
"Huh?"
"Yes, that exactly."
Being Right All The Time
Farla looked back to her white-backed spiral notebook, flipping through the pages as the rebel tried to work out what she'd said. "Never mind," Farla told the rebel. "Back to what you said about being the only one."
"Right!"
Farla pointed behind the rebel. "That looks like a lot to me."
The rebel looked over her shoulder at the massive crowd. "Yeah, those guys were the cowed citizenship who you're oppressing into supporting you that I was talking about," she explained.
"I'm here to liberate them! No longer must they bow before you!" She pointed at the letters and packages littering the floor around the fluffy blue chair. "Or offer up their works for you to insult, or falsely praise you out of fear!"
"Half of the packages are ticking," Farla said. "Ticking. And that section there, those red letters, those are from the Potterfen, I think they're Howlers. Howlers packed with TNT." She reached over the side of the fluffy blue chair's arm and grabbed one of the more innocent looking plain white letters. She opened it, pulled out the letter and read aloud, "'shut the fuck up you little bitch what if i didn't want to capitilize i. so stop being so goddamn annoying you little bitch'. Another one threatens my dog. I don't even have a dog."
The rebel processed this. "I will lead a popularist uprising!" she announced after a moment.
"After what you just said about all those guys being my supporters," Farla said disbelievingly.
"They haven't deposed you yet," the rebel said, "so clearly they need me to act."
"That's...that's an interpretation," Farla said diplomatically after a few seconds. "But what about that whole thing about how you were a lone and outnumbered rebel, and your black leather rebel outfit, and how you were being all defiant and unique?"
"Ohmigod you are so arrogant!" screeched the girl in a rage. She jumped up and down, stamping her feet. "You're such an argumentative bitch. Seriously why do you insist on having to be right all the time? What is wrong with you you bitch! What? You're pulling up something that was written before JUST TO PROVE YOURSELF RIGHT what is wrong with you? This is why everyone hates you!"
"What...?" Farla said in bafflement. "You just...last chapter you referred to description in Chapter One, and then this chapter you referred back to it again - "
"OHMIGOD!!!" screamed the girl, almost beyond words. "STOP DOING THAT!"
"But how can one have any kind of conversation if I can't refer to your past statements and actions?" said Farla. "Besides, your entire reason for being here is based on my statements from well before our conversation even begins, which was evident from when you said - "
"OMIGOD STOPIT!!! WHY WON'T YOU STOP TRYING TO PROVE YOU'RE RIGHT!?!" the rebel screamed. "WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU???"
Shifting Speakers
Thwarted - thwarted but momentarily, and by the mad queen's insane anti-logic power rather than any true and valid reason, but, for the moment, thwarted, the rebel withdrew back to the shadows to prepare for the next attack, freeing the space before the gilded bone throne for the next supplicant to step forward-
"Seriously, knock it off," the mad queen said from her lofty if oddly fluffy and blue perch. The scene wobbled like it was made of jello, then collapsed under its own weight. Muttering curses in the black tongue, the rebel -
"Stop babelfishing, it isn't fooling anyone," the mad queen snapped, and the scene crumbled apart like wet sand. More quietly (but still undefeated!) the rebel withdrew (for the moment!).
"Okay, I think that's done," she said, brushing bits of sand off her chair. "Now what?"
"Not that you've reviewed any of my stories - " began the first, a young girl barely in her teens.
"Not that I'm saying you're deliberately being rude - " began the second, an older teenager.
"Not that I'm saying you're necessarily wrong - " began the third, an adult woman.
"- But I don't like the way you review and want you to stop, now if not sooner," they chorused in one voice..
"Isn't it supposed to be maiden, mother, crone?" Farla said, looking them over.
"The internet skews young," said the young girl simply.
"And between all of those fourteen year old fangirls thinking adults are so incredibly ancient, and society's unrealistic expectations for women's appearance, I think you'll find thirty year olds fully qualify as crones," said the adult woman less simply. "Besides, I think Gaiman's already beaten the symbolism to death."
"...I really think that's an unfair accusation based on reading the entire series in one go rather than in the format it was originally designed for," Farla said timidly.
"Then you have no taste. Also, you suck as a writer. Look at this digression!"
Farla twitched. "You threw that last part in on the assumption I can't continue the argument without furthering the digression, didn't you?" she accused.
"Digressing!" they chorused cheerfully.
She glared. "We will return to this topic, oh, we will. And it will be bloody."
"Digressing!" they chorused, sounding absurdly pleased with themselves.
"Fine. For the moment," Farla added ominously. "Streets will run with blood, the living will envy the dead... Oh, there shall be a reckoning." Then she sighed and asked in a tired, bored monotone, "Teenybopper trinity, why do you want me to stop reviewing?"
They began to speak at once.
"Okay, shut up. It's not like private messaging, I can't hold conversations with all of you without losing all narrative flow." She pointed to the youngest. "You go first."
The girl nodded and began.
First Speaker:
Child
"As I said," the girl began formally, "It's not that you've reviewed any of my stories."
"Indeed, it's oddly like I've been going out of my way not to," Farla interrupted (rudely).
"Stop being rude!" snapped the girl. "Anyway. Not that you've reviewed any of my stories, but I've seen the reviews you've given other people, and out of the goodness of my heart - "
"Other people being your friends," Farla interrupted again.
"Stop being rude!" she yelled again. "And yes, okay, but it's really not - "
"I just think people should be up front about that kind of thing."
"You said I could talk!"
"I said you could talk before them. Nothing was said about me not talking."
"This is why everyone hates you!" the girl managed to get out before spewing a string of profanity.
"Okay, okay, continue."
"Having to be right all the time," the girl grumbled. "Where was I? Right. So I saw the reviews, and you're being really, really mean."
"Okay..."
"So you'll stop?"
"I think it might help if you first went into detail about what you mean by mean."
"Well, like, telling people they didn't spellcheck. Spellchecking is hard! I mean, what if they're actually five year old blind mentally retarded preschoolers, who also have a muscle disorder that makes typing hard, and they don't have a computer at home so they can only spellcheck at school, and - "
"Is that true for any of the people you know?" Farla, (ever rude), once again interrupted.
"Well, no. But there are lots of people I don't know, and it could be true for them. Besides, there are lots of five year olds."
"Five year olds aren't supposed to be on the site."
"But what if they are?!"
"Then they just learned an important lesson about lying about their age." Farla paused a moment to smile with amusement at the thought of crying five year olds, her blood-covered lips drawing back -
"I thought you had left!" Farla yelled at the rebel.
"I am defiant!"
"Oh, whatever. Continue," she said.
"Well, maybe they're fifteen, or even thirteen," the girl said. "That's still way too young to spellcheck. So you should be nice to them. How would you have felt if someone had- "
"I could when I was thirteen," Farla interrupted (rudely).
"OMG this is why everyone hates you!" shrieked the girl. "Would it kill you to agree some of the time? Why do you have to argue constantly! It's not convincing anyone! I mean, if you wanted a puppy to learn something you wouldn't be mean and insist on being right all the time!"
"You're not a puppy," Farla pointed out. "Puppies are incapable of higher thought processes. You aren't."
"You - you - you gerk!" The girl burst into tears. "Meany!"
"Er," Farla said. "I'm sorry I said you were more intelligent than a puppy. I was wrong."
The girl quieted, still sniffling a bit. "Okay. I forgive you. Let's be internet friends!"
"Let's not," Farla said. "It's not you, it's me. Anyway," she pointed to the older teenager, "you next."
Second Speaker:
Teenager
The teenager stepped forward as the girl, still sniffling a bit, stepped back, and began,
"As I said," the teenager began, "Not that I'm saying you're deliberately being rude, I mean, unless you are, not that I'm saying you necessarily are you understand, just putting the possibility out there, just as a - "
"The point," Farla reminded.
"Okay. Have you considered...not being rude?"
"As with the girl above, I must suggest you first define the word," Farla said. "As I often find that what I consider meanness or rudeness is different than what people who complain to me mean by the word."
"Well, my reviews," the teenager said. "They're not rude. Right?"
"Sure..."
"And your reviews are meaner than my reviews."
"Sure..."
"So your reviews are rude!"
"Doesn't follow," Farla dismissed (probably rudely).
"So you're saying my reviews are bad?!"
"Again: doesn't follow," Farla dismissed (definitely rudely).
The teenager sighed and took a deep breath. "Look," she said reasonably. "If your reviews were like mine, they wouldn't be rude, right?"
"I wouldn't consider them such, no."
"So let me tell you how to write your reviews more like mine!" the teenager said quickly. "When writing a review, be sure to open with a compliment about something you thought was absolutely great. Then, for everything you criticize, mention two things you loved about it. Then make sure you end with a bunch more compliments and say how much you liked the whole story. And five-star the story so they won't be mad. Then, find out their address and mail them cookies! Homemade, that's important, and you should make sure to send a couple different varieties because people like different things you know, and you should include a couple brownies and some pastries as well."
"I'm aware of that," Farla said, not entirely truthfully as she had never heard that full of a version, "but choose not to."
"So you're being deliberately rude," the teenager accused.
"No."
"Then you're saying my reviews are bad."
"Not necessarily."
"That's a lot like 'yes' if you rearrange the letters and then remove eleven of them."
"Er, that's true," Farla admitted. "But I actually meant I can't say your reviews are good since the formula you mention can work or it can not work, so I can't make a set judgment on the quality of your reviews."
"That's a lot like 'yes' if you rearrange the letters and then remove a hundred and eleven of them."
"It's just that I personally feel that method lends itself to insincerity because it encourages people to find something to compliment, rather than complimenting what they like."
"So you're saying I'm never sincere when I compliment someone?"
"Not necessarily," Farla began. "Like I said I can't say since the formula - "
"That's a lot like 'yes'," the teenager said.
"Ironically, this entire argument perfectly reflects my exact problem with the formula. Encouraging people to be hyperbolic with praise inevitably leads to a perception creep. If you refer to something bad as okay, then something okay must be called good to properly express your feelings on the matter, and something good great. And as people begin to realize, rather than acknowledge it you simply shift the scale again so that bad is good, okay is great. And so it's impossible to simply say 'I liked this' because that now means 'It was bad but I'm being polite', as 'Well, not necessarily' becomes 'Yes, exactly what I meant, but I'm being polite'."
"That's also a lot like 'yes'," the teenager said. "Although I've lost track of how many letters need to be removed first."
"Bored now." Farla pointed to the adult. "Okay, you go."
Third Speaker:
Adult
"Huh, is this going to be another seven-chapter thing?" said the adult, looking up. "What is it with you and seven chapters?"
"You can't be sure of that. Besides, this is only the second time!" Farla defended. "And Elfin doesn't really count since it's just the opening."
"Like you're really going to ever continue it."
"Shut up and start."
Third Speaker:
Adult
The adult stepped forward as the muttering teenager stepped back.
"As I said," the adult began. "Not that I'm saying you're necessarily wrong, and I'm not saying you're necessarily rude -"
"I am!" called the teenager.
"It's my turn to talk! Anyway, I'm just saying that maybe if you were nicer about it you'd have better results."
"Why do you think this?" Farla inquired.
"Well, I'm nice about it, and sometimes I get results."
Farla boggled a second. "So? That means you have no idea how well being harsher works. You've tried it one way, and now you're arguing that because your methods didn't utterly fail, they must be the only way that works at all?"
"...no," said the adult after a moment. "Something really like that, only without the part where I sound like I'm wrong. Besides, that applies to you too! You don't know your way works any better than me."
"Okay, first, yes, I do. I've tried lots of different ways. That I've settled on one doesn't mean I never experimented, it means I came to a conclusion. Second, I'm not the one saying my way is the one true path here. If there wasn't any conclusive proof one way or another..." Farla paused, clearly fighting the desire to say something. She lost the battle. "And there is, dammit!" she added. (This was extremely rude of her) "Anyway, if there wasn't, that would just mean it was up to the individual which one they felt like doing. If you're arguing I should abandon my way for yours, you're implicitly suggesting your way must be superior."
"That's a false description," the adult shot back. "Even if both ways work as well, one hurts people's feelings. In the absence of clear information of how well they work - "
"Are people allergic to science?!"
The adult, being more mature, simply continued, " - one should consider which one is nicer, since if they're both equal clearly the kinder one is superior. My way doesn't hurt people's feelings. I'm not saying you should make up compliments. I'm just saying, if you don't have anything nice to say (or more accurately, don't have anything nice to say in a 2:1 ratio to criticism) you should just hit the back button."
"While that is a much more self-consistent method than the ones previously outlined," Farla said.
"Thank you."
" - I can't help but notice it means that any stories below a certain level of quality won't get any suggestion on how to improve."
"Well," the adult said. "Stupid fourteen year olds can't really be expected to improve anyway." (This was not at all rude of her.)
Farla glanced at the line above her in irritation. "And I'm the one always accused of being rude?" (This was very rude of her.) "Stop that!" (Ditto.)
Farla sighed (rudely) in irritation. "I'm not really sure why treating everyone as if they're at least as intelligent as trained monkeys rather than dismissing two-thirds of the group as below me is considered a personality flaw," she said (rudely). Glaring at the parenthesis, she added (which was rude), "But I think further argument may be impossible until I deal with this new problem." (This was incredibly rude of her, of course.)
Fourth Speaker:
???
"Okay, out with you," Farla said (rudely). "And stop that! If videogames have taught me anything, it's that ??? means I get to name you, or else you're a villain I get to brutally murder without repercussion. Unless you want to be known as Fuckwit for the rest of this story until I throw you off a cliff, stop hiding.
Shaking his head, Fu-
"Okay okay!" A cloaked rebel tumbled out of the narration. "That was rude of you," the rebel added reflexively.
"Alright, I'm listening," Farla said.
"I think you're rude," the rebel explained.
"I gathered as much," Farla said ru - "Knock it off! I can still name you!"
"Fine," the rebel said sulkily. "You totally are a mad tyrant dictator queen."
"[insert line about definitions here]" Farla mouthed.
"What? I have to go all the way up and find it?"
"You took advantage of the text to insert your own words, distracting from my narrative. This is just reciprocating."
"Mad tyrant dictator queen," grumbled the rebel, clicking back to the past chapters. "You want me to explain what I mean by rude. You could have just said that!"
"And you could have just said I was rude rather than interrupting."
"Mad tyrant dictator baby-eating arrogant queen who kicks puppies," grumbled the rebel.
"Strangles, I think."
"Whatever. Fine. You're rude to people by telling them to do stuff. Like, you could say, 'i think you should spellcheck because it's harder for me to read and enjoy your story otherwise :)' or something. And sometimes you're really mean. You use words like 'dumb' or 'OOC' or 'makes no sense'. Stop doing that!"
"And I would take this more seriously were the responses I get not so incredibly rude."
"Maybe some of them are rude, and maybe they shouldn't, but it's not that big of a deal. Besides, you're rude too, and that's what's important."
Farla leaned down to select another white innocent-looking letter. She opened it. "'fuck off Whiney bitch'."
"And maybe a few might be a bit mean but it's nothing compared to how mean you are."
"'do you know what a bullet feels like'," she read.
"Look, it's not that big of a deal compared to all the stuff you say."
"'it's kinda starts out as a very sharp pain it stays like that for a little bit eventualy it goes numb'"
"Okay, maybe it's a little worse than what you said but I really think we should pay attention to how rude you are -"
"'when the bullet is pulled out the pain is almost unbearable. let's remember that BITCH'."
Farla looked at the rebel over the top of the letter, radiating disdain.
"...I'll just go over there now, okay?" said the rebel, and bolted.
Yeah, That'll Show Her
As the cowed rebel bolted before the mighty illogic of the evil and arrogant queen, the space before the throne -
"Seriously, quit it!"
"Defiant!" yelled the first rebel, and darted back into the crowd to avoid imagined retaliation.
Farla rolled her eyes.
Another one stepped up. "EH!!!" he screamed, holding up a card with two stars on it. Then, grinning triumphantly as if he'd accomplished something, he also bolted back into the crowd.
"Okay," Farla said slowly. "Clearly, the world has gone insane."
"Excuse me," said a new voice, elbowing her way to the front. "Hi. You're a bitch. Also, your stories suck. Can you review my story plz?"
"Case in point," Farla said, gesturing dramatically toward the newest arrival. Then she blinked a few times and realized she was talking to no one. "Great, it's catching." She sighed. "Let's get this over with. What didn't you like about my stories?"
"Something. It doesn't really matter. Review my story!"
"Review mine first," Farla said. "If you found them boring I'd like to know why."
"Okay. They were really boring. I didn't like them. You should have some more action and description and stuff. Kay, review review review review - "
"Did you actually read a single one?"
"Yes! Of course. It's just they were all very boring. I don't really care, review my story!"
"Okay, ignoring the fact my hit counter hadn't moved for about a day before you contacted me, you realize it's incredibly odd how you keep talking about them without mentioning so much as a title?"
"Um... It's because they were boring. You should be more original and have more action. Your stuff's all boring and cliche and stuff."
"YOUR STORY IS AN INUYASHA HIGH SCHOOL AU," Farla thundered. "I AM WRITING A STORY WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER IS A MASS MURDERER. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
"I'm giving you a taste of your own medicine!" the girl chirped. "See how upsetting it is to be criticized? Review my story now."
"I see how annoying it is to be lied to, but I don't consider the two synonyms."
"...?"
Farla translated: "I know you're making your criticism up. That, not criticism, is why I'm yelling at you."
"Oh. Review?"
"Look, if you didn't read it just say so. It's not like this is the first time someone's pulled this, and I won't be mad."
"...didn't read it," the girl admitted. "Review?"
"Fine."
"I also found your stories lacking!" shouted a voice from the crowd.
Farla perked up. "Really?"
"Yes. But out of the goodness of my heart I didn't mention all the many, many mistakes I found in them. Aren't you grateful? How would you feel if someone tore your stories apart the way you do to so many others?"
Farla opened her mouth.
"And don't say you wouldn't mind!" he shouted quickly.
Farla opened and closed her mouth a few times. "Huh," she said after a moment. "I seem to have been rendered unable to say that."
The rebel looked pleased. "Ha! I knew you would have no real comeback to such a clever argument! Therefore proving me right!"
"Seriously, it's not just me, right? This is insane."
The rebel was currently doing a victory dance. "I win! I win! I win!" he chanted happily.
Farla facepalmed. "At least it's useful," she muttered to herself. "I mean, without the stupid and the crazy I'd be down a good ten entries right now."
Ironically, the posting of the Rebel sequence served to draw more crazy out of the woodwork, leading to a single person accuse me of, all at the same time, committing libel against forum members by showing their arguments out of context/misrepresenting the entire argument (never mind that none of the characters are identified as particular forummembers, and to recognize any individual as having made the same argument you'd have to read the argument in the original context. This was, after all, a moderately Christian place and they were well versed in circular logic), while saying I was making up the more extreme things, while saying it was wrong because I was giving my view of their arguments rather than their own words, while being outraged by later statements that the more extreme stuff involved direct quotes. Before long it entered into that special quagmire of stupid. Summarized:
Reviewer: This is terrible because it's full of strawmen, but I guess that's what you intended so it can't be fixed.
Me: No, it's a parody where I exaggerate things. If you have examples of where I actually misrepresented an argument I'd be happy to fix that.
Reviewer: No the whole thing is an attack on specific people so it can't be fixed. Also, strawmen.
Me: Uh, no. Examples?
Reviewer: There are arguments here that you don't believe.
Me: I do not think those words mean what you think they mean.
Reviewer: See, I knew you were lying about listening to concrit!
Me: WTF?
Reviewer: You're frustrated, which means I'm right. Also you are an evil bitch whore who hates freedom and is just jealous.
Me: It is strangely like you did not read the story.
Reviewer: You're arguing, which means I'm right.
no subject
Also, recently finished reading most of the SPPf drama I missed while I was away. Just wondering... overall, would you say that Fanlib was more or less crazy than what you encountered on Serebii?
(Also, you have a fluffy blue chair? Swap for my desk chair made out of the crystallized souls of innocents? It spins!)
no subject
...hard to say. They're very different, though.
Serebii's dumb, mostly, and a bit of self-important crazy. It's a sort of entitled, entrenched way, but a normal internet way. You can talk to people on Serebii - they might be dumb, but you get the impression there's another human on the other end, maybe a bit young or egotistical or dim but someone you can communicate with. Fanlib was just insane - all these people with no experience on other sites, no idea of community norms but utterly convinced their personal opinions were shared by everyone, passive aggressive as fuck (one of my more normal encounters had someone suddenly start talking about harsh reviews, and people being rude, and maybe they meant to be rude...with only the sudden, non sequitur directness to indicate they were saying "Your reviews are way too harsh and rude"), persecution complexes, and all the time with the worst coming out under the cover of anonymity (bitchfests were held over the rating system, which were unattributed, and which very quickly led to rating everything someone said down over a vendetta), which was at the same time denied because we're all friends here, right? Right? Pointing any of this out was breaking the "we're all friends here" social contract, which meant you proved you deserved whatever it was and didn't count under the social contract, so it still wasn't really happening to anyone in general.
Swap for my desk chair made out of the crystallized souls of innocents? It spins!
Tempting...`