(AWOWOTSCOA)
I posted the following in a game forum in which the game required a high degree of coordination among players to accomplish the goal. There was no official mechanism for coordinating the various necessary actions and the coordination required quickly became a workload equivalent to operating a small business. The only method of conducting this coordination was via forum posts.
Although players might only play 10 minutes to an hour each (or more), the operations of the game were 24/7/365. What resulted was a continuous evolution of self proclaimed leaders declaring an organization, recruiting hundreds of anonymous members, establishing divisions of labor, a hierarchy, and, invariably, descending into chaos within a month or so (mostly due to self generated in-fighting).
Having been part of several of these “clans,” I began to notice the early symptoms of the impending self-destruction group dynamic: when seemingly every member of the clan began demanding recognition, rank or title, there was nigh over a week left before the only forum posts remaining contained words like “jerk” and “stupid”, rendering communication impossible.
Please note that I did NOT include the reference list in my original post!
The following is the letter I posted into the forum pages of one of those groups – “The PC Immortals”. I only hope the letter speaks for itself…
Archive for the Category ◊ Strangers ◊
Note: This story may be recorded for quality assurance purposes…
I was in the Crystal City Underground, returning from some mindless errand that I had decided to incorporate into my lunch break. The "Underground" is a series of connected stores – a mall – that is in the collective basements of all the buildings in Arlington, a block or so from the Pentagon.
I decided to call my dad while I had lunch – an international call. I carefully dialed the country code and number and was directed to customer service to activate "international calling" on my calling plan.
Now, I know I’m asking a lot, here.
I went to the Science Center with my son’s second grade class today as a chaperon. I found out I had chaperon duties when I arrived at the school in the morning in response to the invitation: “would you like to go on the field trip with us?” But I don’t mind wrangling a few brats for a half day – I wrangle 150 soldiers all weekend and it’s about the same job description…
Of all the great story opportunities from this little junket – I only lost one brat, and even then for only a couple of minutes – my favorite was the “ABC game” I played with my boy on the bus ride home. We were the last ones on the bus for the return trip due to the fact that the experts at the center lost my backpack, which they insisted I leave with them after lunch. (See Detroit Science Center Intelligence Story.)
So, now in the front of the bus, alone – or so I thought – with my boy,