by "Nick" (63-228-198-167.slkc.qwest.net)
on Sun 18 Apr 2004 06:22:45
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It's strange, isn't it?
What started out as a social experiment became even more than you ever would have expected, Tom...
For the hell of it (and through pure boredom), I went back to a site that I loved as a kid. Snoot. Scribble.
It had become something. Something else...
Recently, I read through all the old posts. They had a fascinating irony to them.
So, for those of you, Webbies, 2 cents, and newbies, let me give you a history of Scribble:
It started out as a fun tropical island. People played around. Some cooperated. Most didn't. Some people got to know other people. Others just kept to themselves.
Then factions formed. "Experts" & "Newbies". They hated each other. At times, passionately hated. Things were beginning to change.
Experts demanded their own section of the island away from the scum and filthy Webbies and Newbies. Expert boards were built.
I believe back in the day, I and others made the first normal +1000 game. I stayed up all night long waiting for my IP to change after everyone went to bed. What an accomplishment!
Experiments began. As a joke, I said we should do a 15 letter word. I said "cinematographer". It was the only one I could think of! Then some people actually did it! Things were getting weird. OXYPHENBUTAZONE became the word of choice.
Times changed... 1000 became rocks against bullets. 15 letter words became illegal contraband.
A new leader was born. Whit. She was "polite" about it, but questioned even the plays of the more seasoned veterans on the island...
I was disheartened. It wasn't fun anymore. For those who invented "lowball", guess what? It was around years ago. I became the "evil spider", ("spider" at the time, was a word in my IP). I would block trips, devour S's, smear waste upon the boards. I don't know why I did it. I guess I didn't like what Scribble was becoming. I wanted the tropical island back.
So I left. I left good friends like Shaw, GW, LJ. These strange people who I knew only by nicknames, but felt a strange bond to. I left the island.
Whit had guns, but then came the new militia. DeLorean.
I remember DeLorean. I used to get so mad at him back in the day when I was an "expert". He would do some boneheaded things. Single-setting TLS's and the like.
Then he walked the island and found a "secret weapon". An anagram generator. He suddenly became a God.
As I've found, he drove Whit away. Fantastic scores like 188 were now worthless. With the anagram generator, nothing below 200 would even be considered. It's funny. The island that Whit had created eventually drove her away too....
Silly. It is considered cheating to put down a 15-letter word because there is no strategy, but anagram generators ARE okay?
So, this is Scribble folks. A computer game played by computers. Look at the tiles, enter them in your machines. Copy. Paste. Repeat. An island run by robots. Elitist robots who get mad. Mad at those who try to come up with words in their head once in a while.
I'm tired of it. Kill the pig. Spill its blood.
I remember back in the day, all the boards would be filled up. Sometimes you would have to wait to get on ONE board during peak hours!
No one wants to visit the island anymore. It has become a country club where people scoff at hungry Webbies who hold out their tin cup for a few tiles.
What an allegory for society you have created, Tom!
So I wonder, do you ever look down on us and laugh?