As many of you well know, since early 1998 I have been involved with a site known as Outpost 10F. Outpost 10F started it's life as "Ten Forward", created in 1997 by my high school friends Andrew and Terrance. It was originally just a Star Trek chat, but since then has evolved into a fan and chat community for Star Trek, Star Wars, and Lord of the Rings, while also following many other minor Sci-Fi and Fantasy genres. Outpost 10F has been developed and contributed to by countless individuals from all over the globe. It has allowed people to meet up face to face at unions in such cities as Toronto, Las Vegas, London, and Amsterdam. It has even allowed couples to meet, get married, and have kids. Yes, without our site, these tiny lives would not exist. It's humbling, and beautiful. Which is why its so hard to say what I'm about to say...

Outpost 10F is a Bunch of Freaks

Perhaps its better to say that all of Geek-kind is a bunch of freaks. Go for a visit at your local comic or tabletop gaming store and you'll discover a cache of pale-skinned young men with limited social and hygienic skills. But then, my local group of real life friends are, for the most part, pretty geeky people. Yet nonetheless they're fairly stable. They have jobs, some even careers. They're well-adjusted psychologically. They even have *gasp* romantic couplings. The residents of your friendly neighbourhood online community are, on the other hand, chronically WEIRD.

For literally years, I've defended my hobby against friends, family and acquaintances who raised an eyebrow at me when I started describing Outpost 10F. I cited all the reasons I listed in the first paragraph above as evidence of its inherent goodness. But recent events have finally pushed me over the edge. For all the great people I've met and friendships I've made at Outpost 10F, it still doesn't begin to outnumber the wackjobs that haunt the chatrooms: dark denizens of parents' basements who rarely see the light of day, much less consider the existence of an outside world. Let's tour the bestiary, shall we?

i R teH good spellur!!!1!!

Phrases like this have become a clichéd gag at Outpost 10F and on the internet in general. Yet for some reason, there are numerous people who still insist on expressing themselves in this primitive manner. It amazes me that in a medium where written language is, bar none, the only form of communication, people don't seem to be able form written language. Spelling mistakes, typing mistakes, grammar mistakes, crude colloquial shorthands (ie: "how R U?"); they all merge together into an indecipherable mish-mash that makes you think a monkey at a keyboard with a sledgehammer could have produced something more intelligible. What's worse, the culprits are not, in fact, people for whom English is a second language. Rather, it is North Americans for whom English is their ONLY language. It is these people (who should know better) who have developed this disgusting bastardization of what was formerly known as the wonderful and diverse English language.

The Ruling: Bad typists, bad spellers, bad speakers: you all suck! Learn to type and speak properly, or go back to elementary school for a refresher.

Have you seen the Outpost 10F coasters I made?

We've put the Outpost 10F logo on a few things over the years. When we had a union in Las Vegas we made up some T-Shirts and hats for people to buy, just as a fun, one time thing. There are people, however, for whom Outpost 10F is akin to some kind of religion. And as such, they require icons. Indeed, there was the time some OTF member's site "Trek 4 God", a Christian interpretation of Star Trek, was listed on some sci-tech television show among the top ten worst Star Trek sites ever. There are people who eat, breathe, and sleep Outpost 10F. I mean sure, when someone made the cigars with the OTF logo on them, that was kinda cute. Then somebody made a jack-o-lantern of the Outpost 10F logo. Then people made Outpost 10F desktop backgrounds for their computers. Then someone's parents made them an Outpost 10F birthday cake. Then someone made a giant Outpost 10F logo from hundreds of Lego blocks. It's only a matter of time before the Outpost is tattooed on some nerd's ass.

The Ruling: Those implicated are forbidden to look at the OTF logo for a minimum of one month. Get outside. NOW.

I ♥♥♥ you! Will you be my cyber-girlfriend?

Something that REALLY pisses me off is when some creepy, horny little teenage boy starts harassing a female friend of mine online. Why does he do this? Because he's in love with her, of course! I've had a couple of long-distance relationships in my day, but there was an important element to them that the horny teenagers lack: mutual consent. We actually had a situation a few months ago where one of my friends was being constantly harassed by one of these characters, and it didn't seem to be enough that she wasn't interested and already had a boyfriend. It came to a head when he raided her photobucket site and made a web page shrine for her proclaiming her to be some sort of goddess. How anyone could think that a woman would find this anything but the most freaky invasion of online space possible is beyond me.

The Ruling: You can be in love with someone you've met online who feels the same way, and you can be in love with someone you know in real life who doesn't feel the same way. But there's no way you can be in love with someone you've met online who doesn't feel the same way, because in the realistic scheme of things, you don't know anything about them. As Aragorn said to Eowyn: "It is but a thought and a shadow that you love." You're not in love with them, you're just obsessed with them. That makes it an obsession, which makes you obsessive, which makes you a weirdo, and quite possibly a pervert.

Promote me!

Anyone who's ever been a sector commander at Outpost 10F is with me on this one. Outpost 10F's personnel structure is based on clearance levels, which essentially count as ranks. As someone becomes a regular at the chat, they get promoted. If they show that they're a responsible person, they get promoted further, and are granted more access. They contribute to projects, and get promoted further. Inevitably, of course, people whine about not being promoted. "What about me?" they say. Or worse, they kiss up to high ranking people (such as myself) which gives you a feeling slimier than getting sneezed on by a brachiosaurus.

The Ruling: Why don't you focus on getting good grades in school, or getting promoted at your REAL job? Frankly, I'm a CL9, which is pretty much as high as you can get. I've put 7 years of my life into this chat, and I've recently discovered that the time and effort I spent isn't worth very much in terms of respect from my OTF compatriots. Promo whiners: I've been through the ringer, and I'm telling you, give up now! Go get a girlfriend or boyfriend (see previous section for provisions on this suggestion).

Mine, mine, MINE!

This is what I'm sick of more than any other thing at the Outpost. You see, at Outpost 10F we divide work into projects, and projects are assigned to departments. Inevitably, someone decides that a project, department or whatever is their own little kingdom. This has happened many, many times now. They forget that the Outpost belongs to Andrew first, and to everyone else second. You'll go out and change something on the Outpost server, then, sometimes within the space of minutes, you'll be blasted by someone for violating their authori-tay. I've been insulted, smeared, and threatened with digital retribution. Yes, threatened. Sometimes people won't even yield to Andrew, who OWNS the site. "Do you think you could remove those animated GIFs and that background music from that page? It's not terribly professional." "WHAT? Don't try to undermine my creative vision! Why are you always so heavy handed?" It's very simple, I'm going to to type it in bold so you're able to pick it out more easily:

The Ruling: Andrew owns the Outpost. Not you. Stop acting like your project is your own private digital feifdom. The Outpost is based entirely on co-operation, community, and... gasp... sharing! Maybe your mom didn't teach you to share your toys in the sandbox? Tough. If you want to get ahead in this world you have to learn to work with other people, even if you don't like to. That is, if you ever move out of your mom's basement...

In Conclusion

I'm not going to be taking any of this back. I expect to upset a lot of people over this rant. Not surprising, the truth hurts. Outpost 10F has become a the social equivalent of a high school. Perhaps it always has been. The person I feel sorry for is Andrew, who has given over countless hours of his life to babysitting you little brats and dealing with your petty Outpost 10F issues (promotions, squabbles, control of projects, etc.) For everything I've endured, he's endured it ten times worse... at least. He's just too nice of a guy to say anything about it. The day he finally closes Outpost 10F and leaves all you selfish nerds in the cold so he can actually do something REWARDING and THANKFUL with his spare time, I'll buy him a beer and congratulate him on making the right decision.

Let's make one thing clear, I did not write this to insult all the good people at Outpost 10F who are likeable, WELL-ADJUSTED human beings, many of whom have been my friends for years (ESPECIALLY Andrew). I'm writing to all of you who make Outpost 10F difficult to work in, who make it a cultural & intellectual cesspool, and who really need to get away from the computer for at least few minutes, maybe even a whole day. For everyone who made OTF great, thanks. As for the rest of you... well, in the immortal words of William Shatner:

GET A LIFE!

Sincerely,

Geekman
aka CL9 Sonata Form