Unpopular Opinions
When you've typed the same comment half a dozen times, it's time to top post.
So many people are irritated, angry, and/or hurt from something or other that was said on the anon meme (box_in_the_box has an unlocked post on the subject). And all I can think of, every time it comes up, is "of course an anon meme is throwing up nastiness; what's going to stop wankers when not even a sock puppet will have to take the consequences?"
But I am also making an open wager to every reader right now that at some point either this troll or some other one is going to be outed as the sockpuppet of some fan who is ostensibly the opposite of whatever has been posted. It couldn't be easier to post in mouse mode something that hits all the hot buttons of your group or just smacks down the victim du jour. So I'm not going to be surprised on the almost inevitable day we find out that the anti-old-school troll is an old school fan, or that person Y swung publicly to the rescue of person X after having anonymously trashed them in order to get the chance to be a hero/ine.
Nigh onto 30 years ago, when the Internet was played by newsletters, there were two competing newsletters for each side of the Beauty and the Beast war. And even when real names and addresses were used, there were still people who joined the opposition's newsletter so they could report what was said there to "their" side, who used false identification to join, and who posted one thing in one newsletter while arguing the exact opposite in the other. Sound familiar? Technology hasn't changed human nature. NOTHING changes human nature.
When online fandom was mostly bulletin boards, chats, and mail lists, a friend of mine was caught up in the Rat Patrol sockstorm, wherein one really dedicated individual was a one-woman maillist, creating over 600 sockpuppets. Harry Potter had "Misscribe." (Make popcorn before you google; it's a lot of reading.) Lord of the Rings fandom had sock puppeteers ruining fandom in the name of charity.
Who fandom is not a special snowflake that is exempt from people pulling that crap on it. ESPECIALLY when they don't even have to pause to come up with fake names. Multiple posts on a subject doesn't correlate to multiple people holding that opinion.
While I'm making myself unpopular, I'm going to list a bunch of other opinions on fandom that have made doused me in eau du skunk over the years and yet I have changed none of them, so there won't be any surprises when I restate them again in the future:
- It's just a TV show. There is no onscreen/on page ship that is as important as real human beings. (I once sent a letter to that effect to Starlog. Not only was I pushed, pinched, and hissed at at the next dozen conventions I went to, someone held a grudge about it for fifteen years, trying to get me thrown off a panel for it. Ironically, it was a panel about fandom wars.)
- Show business is a business. The producer is going to do what makes the most amount of money (read: gets the largest audience participation), not what makes the fans happy. The actor is going to take the role that offers the most work/challenge/exposure and is not obligated to stick with a show just because the fans like the character. The writers get paid even if their work is cut to ribbons... and they sell the script in full knowledge that if they're lucky, maybe one word of theirs will make it to the final show. That each of these happens on a regular basis shocks nobody on that side of the business, so it shouldn't shock the fans either.
- No fandom has ever been fiscally strong enough to keep its show afloat all on its own. (Conversely, the crappier the ratings, the more likely there's going to be a dedicated fandom.)
- Dealing with fans is not in an actor's contract. While it's wonderful when they do pay attention to the fans, they don't actually *owe* us anything until they sign a convention contract. That goes double when they're actually at work.
- ETA: No fandom is unique. Oh, there may be *aspects* that are unique, but the basic lifecycle, the general makeup of the fans, and the fandom activities are not. The first participatory fandom was Sherlock Holmes, and you'd be surprised how little has changed since outraged readers started a "save our series!" letter-writing campaign to The Strand. I am convinced there is a fandom gene.
And to get fandom-specific, I remain convinced that Torchsong is abusively priced and a blatant attempt to make as much money as possible from a fandom.
So many people are irritated, angry, and/or hurt from something or other that was said on the anon meme (box_in_the_box has an unlocked post on the subject). And all I can think of, every time it comes up, is "of course an anon meme is throwing up nastiness; what's going to stop wankers when not even a sock puppet will have to take the consequences?"
But I am also making an open wager to every reader right now that at some point either this troll or some other one is going to be outed as the sockpuppet of some fan who is ostensibly the opposite of whatever has been posted. It couldn't be easier to post in mouse mode something that hits all the hot buttons of your group or just smacks down the victim du jour. So I'm not going to be surprised on the almost inevitable day we find out that the anti-old-school troll is an old school fan, or that person Y swung publicly to the rescue of person X after having anonymously trashed them in order to get the chance to be a hero/ine.
Nigh onto 30 years ago, when the Internet was played by newsletters, there were two competing newsletters for each side of the Beauty and the Beast war. And even when real names and addresses were used, there were still people who joined the opposition's newsletter so they could report what was said there to "their" side, who used false identification to join, and who posted one thing in one newsletter while arguing the exact opposite in the other. Sound familiar? Technology hasn't changed human nature. NOTHING changes human nature.
When online fandom was mostly bulletin boards, chats, and mail lists, a friend of mine was caught up in the Rat Patrol sockstorm, wherein one really dedicated individual was a one-woman maillist, creating over 600 sockpuppets. Harry Potter had "Misscribe." (Make popcorn before you google; it's a lot of reading.) Lord of the Rings fandom had sock puppeteers ruining fandom in the name of charity.
Who fandom is not a special snowflake that is exempt from people pulling that crap on it. ESPECIALLY when they don't even have to pause to come up with fake names. Multiple posts on a subject doesn't correlate to multiple people holding that opinion.
While I'm making myself unpopular, I'm going to list a bunch of other opinions on fandom that have made doused me in eau du skunk over the years and yet I have changed none of them, so there won't be any surprises when I restate them again in the future:
- It's just a TV show. There is no onscreen/on page ship that is as important as real human beings. (I once sent a letter to that effect to Starlog. Not only was I pushed, pinched, and hissed at at the next dozen conventions I went to, someone held a grudge about it for fifteen years, trying to get me thrown off a panel for it. Ironically, it was a panel about fandom wars.)
- Show business is a business. The producer is going to do what makes the most amount of money (read: gets the largest audience participation), not what makes the fans happy. The actor is going to take the role that offers the most work/challenge/exposure and is not obligated to stick with a show just because the fans like the character. The writers get paid even if their work is cut to ribbons... and they sell the script in full knowledge that if they're lucky, maybe one word of theirs will make it to the final show. That each of these happens on a regular basis shocks nobody on that side of the business, so it shouldn't shock the fans either.
- No fandom has ever been fiscally strong enough to keep its show afloat all on its own. (Conversely, the crappier the ratings, the more likely there's going to be a dedicated fandom.)
- Dealing with fans is not in an actor's contract. While it's wonderful when they do pay attention to the fans, they don't actually *owe* us anything until they sign a convention contract. That goes double when they're actually at work.
- ETA: No fandom is unique. Oh, there may be *aspects* that are unique, but the basic lifecycle, the general makeup of the fans, and the fandom activities are not. The first participatory fandom was Sherlock Holmes, and you'd be surprised how little has changed since outraged readers started a "save our series!" letter-writing campaign to The Strand. I am convinced there is a fandom gene.
And to get fandom-specific, I remain convinced that Torchsong is abusively priced and a blatant attempt to make as much money as possible from a fandom.