On compulsion


Everyone respects and has air kissed everyone else, no one harbors hard feelings, the whole burning bush in a mousetrap is passing into one more half-forgotten legend of the internet, except for this:

Dear folks who compare using Favrd to having a problem with drugs and alcohol, please stop.

Checking to see if people liked your joke on the internet is not a problem. Compulsively checking to see if people liked your joke on the internet is hardly a problem in the sense of, say, compulsive hand-washing or coupling or masturbating. If checking to see who liked your joke on the internet is a problem you actually struggled with in 2009, consider yourself wildly blessed and thank God whether you believe in him or not. If you truly believe that, by closing Favrd without notice, Dean Allen freed you from a self-destructive cycle of self-abuse, don’t be surprised when your therapist bitch-slaps you.

Losing one’s home was a problem in 2009. Losing one’s job was a problem in 2009. Checking a website to see who liked one’s joke does not even make the top 1,000,000 problems of 2009.

Lying awake shaking and crying because you have no more cocaine or heroin or alcohol is a problem. Not caring if that next hit kills you, and quietly hoping that it does—there is a problem, and shutting off a website won’t fix it.

Hoping people will understand your joke does not compare to any real suffering on this planet of suffering, no matter how out-of-control you may think you were, and no matter how grateful you are that someone fixed you by shutting off their website.

And, just so you know, recovery doesn’t mean the drug dealer disappears. It means walking past the guy who sold you dope and not needing it any more.

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Community creativity Design Favrd The Essentials

The Stars Look Down


It wasn’t the first time and won’t be the last. Like an angry Hebrew God, he creates things and then, in fits of pique, destroys them.

Sometimes, on the web, communities end because money runs out. Not the case here. Sometimes they end because one company buys another, and that is almost never good for anyone except a couple guys who get rich. Again, not the case here. No money changed hands or ever would have. This was an exchange far below the radar of the venture capitalists who flatten the earth in their endless quest for the gold that leaks from bubbles before they pop.

Here we had a smallish but passionate international community of fun, bright people who not only amused but, yes, loved each other. Now it’s gone. Just like that, poof.

Alas, stars on Twitter have become mere take-out menus hung on the doors of other restaurants.


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