There is a great forum over at bukowski.net.
I have participated in a lot of forums and online groups, and it is unusual to find one that is interesting and informative and not just full of bullshit and posturing. Part of building a good forum is pure luck, but a larger part is a lot of tedious work. One determined knucklehead can run almost any online group off it’s rails in a surprisingly short amount of time. A handful of knuckleheads is almost indefensible. They will win, you will lose.
So I take a certain amount of pride in the bukowski.net forum. It’s been up and running for almost three years now, and so far we have avoided any major meltdowns or carnage. We have suffered a few knuckleheads and effectively driven them off. People come and people go, but there is a solid core there that cares about the subject and keeps things interesting.
But that god damned forum drives me crazy sometimes.
I am not the ideal person to run a forum. I am opinionated, short-tempered and generally do everything I can to make things to go my way, whatever way that may be, and whatever that takes. When someone give me shit, I give it back in spades. Both online and in the meat world that your grandparents live in. I’m vindictive and devious and hold a grudge for a long, long time. So how has the forum survived with a hair-trigger lunatic and idiot running it? Well, it survives because I stepped back and gave the reins to a handful of moderators who are much more patient and understanding than I am.
But issues still crop up, and you have to balance a million things on the tip of a fucking needle. The whole mess is constantly in danger of tipping over and falling apart, oftentimes due to my own outbursts or idiocy. If only I were the sole idiot, things would be peachy.
So here we are. I often wonder why I do this shit. Web sites and forums and groups and things. Projects and projects and more projects that, when all is said and done, do nothing but suck me dry. What am I trying to accomplish? I shut the door on the old smog.net, got rid of an art magazine, a huge email service, a floundering web hosting service, but I am still up to my neck in this world that is not a world at all. What am I doing?
I have tied myself to this box and I don’t think I’ve really gained anything from any of it. Where am I? What happened to the world that existed 15 years ago? Before this internet ingrained itself into my existence. What good is any of it? More importantly, why can’t I just observe and dip my toe in, like everyone else on earth. Why am I so god damn involved?
Send any answers you may have along with freshly baked cookies, bottles of expensive scotch or bourbon and any prescription painkillers you feel comfortable sending through the mail to: Michael Phillips,
PO box #218, South Pasadena, CA 91031-0218 PO Box 542, Monterey Park, CA 91754.