From Lurkdom to (Way Too) LONG; One View, aka She-Who

[msbeadsley]

Once upon a time a single, penniless mother penned, or dreamed, a 
lovely fable about a very sweet but unappreciated little boy named 
Harry Potter, who discovered that he had both a magical birthright 
and an impending doom. People all over the planet, children to 
elders, genius to savant, scholar to only just literate, liked this 
story so much that thousands and thousands of them elected to sit 
around and talk and debate and dream at each other about it for hours 
and hours over years and years (in between repeatedly rereading the 
story), and the formerly out of work mother (henceforth to be known 
as "JKR") found herself rich and famous and beloved and downright 
beleaguered by her readers.

One of the communities which sprang up around JKR's efforts was a 
computer email group. Most of the people who found it were simply 
glad to have such an opportunity as membership in this community, a 
place to share their love of things Potter. Most shared their 
inspirations as they occurred and were content with the responses 
they in their turn inspired.  Some became like images of JKR herself, 
providing the community with material it happily added (just basted 
on, usually, in case it needed removing later) to the tapestry which 
was Potter.

Eventually (and inevitably), so many people wanted to participate, so 
eagerly and enthusiastically, and in so many different ways, that it 
was necessary to attempt to organize the group somehow, and to create 
a set of rules concerning what constituted reasonable participation. 
Someone had to create the rules; someone had to enforce them. And so 
a group of cadre was created.

And now there was a group which existed not only for the sake of 
enjoyment and inspiration, but which accepted *responsibility*, and 
the adjurations of power. Where all had once been "Once upon a time" 
and "What if" and "Well, this is what I think it means," 
and "Wouldn't it be cool if?" it became, "Yes, that's alright," 
and "No, that's unacceptable," and "Why didn't you *say* that if 
that's what you meant?" And an "us" and "them" was born: those who 
held the reins, and those who pulled the wagon (with many very 
acrobatic endeavors for many who did both).

Meanwhile, somehow, what began as an urge to share (and compare) for 
the sheer delight of doing so turned (for some members) into a taste, 
then hunger, and finally a *demand* for things the community had 
never actually been intended to provide. Some members of the group 
began to perceive that an *obligation* existed on the part of the 
community to provide the things they'd become accustomed to (which 
had previously been produced only incidentally), like admiration, 
affection, acclaim.  (Those things which had originally been inspired 
by and directed at JKR, who was (and is) much too busy continuing the 
fable (and trying to have a life) to receive, much less acknowledge, 
the vast wealth of attention at large.)

Worst of all was the feeling of betrayal inspired in a member of the 
cadre when she began to fail to receive that regarded-as-rightful 
allotment of aggrandizement. To that member, the group had become 
nonfunctional and needed fixing. (Notwithstanding that the majority 
thought it was fine.) The former cadre member met resistance.  So the 
former cadre member began a long, dedicated campaign to correct the 
group one person or subgroup at a time.

The majority still thought it was fine, overall...then certain of the 
majority's members began to notice that the disaffected member was 
having some success convincing other members and/or subgroups that it 
(the group) wasn't, after all, overall, fine. It also appeared to 
many that the most convincing arguments in play against the fine-ness 
of the group were, at best, semi-truthful. The shared reality 
developed holes where it was impossible to determine just what the 
truth was (or had been). And what had been generally functional 
(regardless of how "right" it was) and beloved began to come apart. 
The general belief in its solidarity and functionality began to fray. 
And the disenfranchised cadre member approved, as what she noticed 
about the process was that *she* was garnering support. And the 
remaining cadre, perceiving the former member as a threat to the 
overall group's welfare, began to take steps to try to alleviate that 
threat.

Those cadre members who remained addressed the person they perceived 
as a threat, requesting that she cease and desist. Some of them 
pleaded. Some of them cajoled. Some of them threatened. Some 
admonished sympathetically. But none were able to prevail. 
Ultimately, those who met the threat were united in their belief that 
allowing her to continue her efforts to change that core reality 
would accomplish little other than to further damage the fabric which 
held the community together; nor did they perceive her will as 
reflecting that of the group (which the cadre generally took as its 
guide).

Yet, her arguments were eloquent, precise, and logical...sometimes 
even insidious--and most of all they were adamant. The community was 
not meeting her needs. It had, once, and then it had stopped. And so 
it must be a failure on the part of the community. (She had been such 
a central part of it. She had put so much of herself into it. It 
reflected her heart in so many ways. How could it continue without 
her, much less continue *in opposition* to her?) Gradually, it became 
clear that nothing anyone could say would penetrate her absolute 
certainty that she had the right to wield whatever tools she 
considered necessary to "fix" what she perceived as broken. Those 
with the authority to do so felt they had no choice but to protect 
the community by excluding her from it.

Shortly after, the cadre expressed to the group at large that the 
community was under attack and implied very strongly that the banned 
member, or someone working at her behest and on her behalf, was 
responsible. And the community generally thought itself well rid of 
one who cared so little for it that its failure to bend to one will 
inspired that one to violence against it.

But there were those who sympathized. Who wondered. Who believed that 
the rights of each and every individual must be preserved, regardless 
of the rights of or cost to the community, regardless of how an 
individual might abuse those rights. Others had secret nightmares in 
which they found *themselves* banned, and were so disturbed that such 
a thing could happen to anyone that they refused to believe it 
reasonable that it happen to *anyone*. Still others of those still 
listening were convinced by the ex-member's unceasing (if truncated 
in venue) arguments. They spoke out. Some of those who heard believed 
that those who spoke out were nothing but tools in the hand of She-
Who-Would-Fix-Or-Destroy-the-Group. And those of the cadre found 
themselves faced with a threat to the welfare of the group again. 
Should they ban those who supported She-Who? Should they ban 
discussion of whether or not She-Who should have been banned? Should 
they ban discussion of whether or not the ban on She-Who should be 
lifted?

Around the time of the banning (and possibly even in response to 
having noticed a possible failure to meet certain other needs), the 
cadre created a new way for the community to express itself--to 
complain, to discuss, to question--en masse and nearly in situ. (It 
might occur to some that this could be perceived as a memorial to the 
(perhaps not entirely) departed. (Hmmm...what was it, again, that Sir 
Nicholas said about those who elect to hang about as ghosts?)

Debate is good. Community consensus-building, and opportunities for 
same, are precious. Personally, I'd rather have those aiming 
brickbats out in public than have them <er, yes> lob them from out of 
the shadows (regardless of whose brick it is, if everyone sees it 
coming at the same time, they can step out of the way or wave a wand 
at it or something). And if, eventually, the will of the community 
changes*, then that, also, is how it should be. Everything I have 
seen of the cadre tells me that they, also, know this.

Sandy, smearing dust and cobwebs from that dern soapbox

*IMO, not gonna happen