Slope is weeks away from its 20th birthday. Some months ago, I decided to also create a presence on Substack, which is be a very, very watered-down version of Slope. None of the tools at all, of course. Just some of the writing. Even with spartan efforts to contribute posts there, the growth in subscribers has been steady.
You want to know something interesting, though? Slope on Substack is dead. There’s no life. No energy. No interaction at all. It’s no different than me shoving a missive into a glass bottle, throwing it into the ocean, and figuring at some point someone will read it sometime.
Slope is different. It’s alive. It’s packed with personalities that run the gamut from intellect to insane. People have made deep friendships here. They’ve learned skills. They’ve gathered together for parties, both big and small, over a space of twenty years. The Slope of Hope is barely me at all. It’s the community.
I have taken the community for granted to varying degrees, but if there is anything positive to have come from the Substack experience, it is this: a website without living, breathing, thinking, arguing, and discussing humans is a dead mound of data. Everyone here is valued. Thank you for being part of the greater whole.
