I’ve been online, in one way or another, since about 1982 when I got my first 300 baud Lynx modem. During the many years since, I have acquired what I think is a pretty strong sense as to the rhythm, timbre, and pulse of a given online community. In many ways I’m more comfortable with an online group than with a live group of people.
If I chose to do so, I could spend a lot more time in Slope’s own comments section. I could make a lot of comments on my own, try to guide the conversation, gently scold people whose behavior seemed to be getting a bit out of line, and so forth. I do not spend much time in comments, however, for many reasons. Broadly stated, I’m really busy, and let’s face it, with Slope in its 12th year, I would hope that the community could, by and large, manage itself.
This is largely the case. Most of the time, Slope is the most civil, educational, and helpful online forum for traders among any I’ve ever encountered. There are times, though, that things go a bit sour. Someone might rub someone the wrong way. Someone might be espousing religious, political, or other social views with which someone else may disagree. Whatever the case may be, a fight – perhaps large, perhaps small – takes place.
Oddly, in some of these instances the offended party blames me. I’ll invariably get a ticked-off email, and, over the years, I’ve found there is a pattern to these kinds of communications that goes something like this:
(1) This place USED to be great
(2) Now it’s gone downhill
(3) I’m sick to death of such-and-so
(4) I’m going to leave you forever, just like _______ and _________ and ________ did.
(5) Up yours, Timster!
The undertone of these things tends to be that the writer represents the kind of high-quality, salt-of-the-earth trader that used to be what made Slope great, but now that they are leaving (just like X and Y and Z did) that Slope is, quite inevitably, doomed to a sea of muck.
Let me tell you, I’ve been getting these kinds of emails for years. I’m not going to cite the names
of the “famous” departees, partly because they actually do show up from time to time, and I have no desire to burn bridges. These emails don’t come in that often, but they usually come in when times are tough for the kinds of people that like to hang out on Slope.
I’m a reasonable fellow, as I hope I’ve proved over the years, and I try to gently broker some kind of peace, either through a carefully-worded email to whoever is causing the trouble, or at least telling the offended party to use the freakin’ Ignore button as God intended them to do. Usually, though, when a person decides to storm off in a huff, they are either gone for good or, about a week later, they’ll just sort of re-appear like nothing ever happened. (The funny thing is that these are never paying Slope Plus members; they’ve never given me a penny).
In spite of all the drama, I can assure you Slope’s popularity and metrics are as solid as ever. The comments section has quieted down some, because folks that constituted 25% of the comments all by themselves have decided to leave, but frankly I’m more interested in keeping a flow of good content than having the busiest, chattiest comment board on the planet.
I’ll leave you with the song below from My Fair Lady, which characterizes my disposition about all of this. I really try to keep a peaceable kingdom here, people, but honestly, I don’t have the time, emotional energy, or the patience to wet-nurse every little tiff and tussle between you animals. I at least wanted to share what it feels like on this end. The handful of people who have stormed off think they are somehow going to bring Slope down. They aren’t. You’re still here, and for that, I’m grateful.
