invited me to join everything2, once. He made some comment about all that I could contribute to the site, knowing my mind.
So I went there and checked it out. It was of the coolness. There were writeups on... well... everything.
Then I tried to contribute.
It was a mess. I had tried to make sense of their notes to newbies, and I'd tried to do everything right... and somehow, I had just not learned the style. Was too full of myself. Wasn't cool enough. Wasn't interesting enough. Was too sensitive.
Cool things form unwritten standards to keep them that cool, and cliques that set the standards and enforce them. If you can imitate the style, evidently, you're in. If you can't, you're out.
Barriers to entry in cool things online are getting higher. I was thinking about my friends-of list today a lot; that's how the topic came up. There was an article, a while ago, about blogging, and how there are a few blogs that are really popular, and there are many, many that aren't.
In order to get noticed, you have to be noticed. People have to refer to you. People have to check you out, and keep doing so, and tell other people about you. And the more people who know you, the more people talking about you. The more people talking about you, the more new people adding you. That's part of the shadesong
effect. She has that going. I don't really think I do, yet. I just have a wide friends list, and I redistribute interesting stuff, and then people credit me as their source on the interesting stuff. I think that's how it works.
I try to look through the journal of everyone who adds me. If my readership keeps growing, though, I won't be able to do that. I don't know if I'm going to be able to keep journalling quite as openly about some things. I have an interesting set of things going on in my life. I've already noticed that I'm able to get my thoughts out better when I don't think someone is watching over my shoulder.
This week, I tried participating in some communities more than I am apt to do. I left pagan
because of the high traffic level, and, to be honest, the high newbie level. I don't have that much attention to go around; though I consider myself reasonably advanced on my own path, I'm not very clueful at all about the pagan world in general, and it shows.
I'd like to say that I avoid causing dramatics. I'd really like to say that and have it be true. But life wouldn't be the same without a little spice of drama to liven things up. I can avoid having things get out of hand, as much as I can... drama creates controversy creates conversation creates interest creates opinions creates controversy creates more drama. Talked with my dear about politics and drama rather late last night; we went through the political iterations of something as simple as buying a piece of equipment with her local politcs. Yeesh.
But I cause dramatics. I'm opinionated. I do try to avoid passing off the opinion in public, on many issues. If I'm wrong, I look like a fool, and I don't study much of anything enough to form an opinion of it that can't be knocked over by most people who have spent time looking into the subject, so I don't bother formulating public opinions of many things at all anymore. I could say that Bush sucks, but that's what I've gathered from hearing people whose opinions I respect who have evidently done more research than I have on the topic; for all I know, he could be a really sweet guy. (Only I personally doubt it. I have no faith in his ability to do anything right for the country I live in, yet I feel I have little say in it, because I rarely can be arsed to vote.)
I'm opinionated, but I like to avoid public declarations of it in hopes that my position, held quietly, can save the cat. Eh? The thought experiment. Cat. Box. Deadly gas. Radioactive materal. Doomsday device. Probabilities, possibilities, all in a fog until we open the damn box. Only I refuse to open my damn mouth, lest the world take on a possibility that I don't like, but fear would be the truth.
I'm tired, and I'm afraid to make that phone call, lest I be a fool, and lest the other party truly be guilty. I have not spoken names lest I be a fool; that's something deeply programmed into me. Innocent until proven guilty. I guess I want to cling to that possibility lest that person's friends be wrong... I'm a fool, and I'm tired.
If you don't know what to say and how to say it, people will think you're a dumbass, even if you're not.
//this has been brought to you by the good offices of sleep-dep...