jr conlin's ink stained banana

i'm sure that someone else probably wrote a book about this, but i've always kinda felt that my attraction to a given individual is inversely relative to how high up their balcony is.

For those of you i've not bored or driven insane with this personal metaphor, allow me to elaborate:

Consider, the Pope (if you're a particularly vehement Protestant, feel free to substitute the classic monarchical ruler of preference here, but do realize that the horrible puns will probably not work the same way). Every so often, said Pope dons his ceremonial garb, and toddles his way to The Balcony to deliver his various dictum. The Audience, gathered together in a swarming throng and divided into sections may have some role other than to applaud and incant, but basically, you're not going to get a good deal of dialog going here. Joe Piccolino from East Wabash isn't going to be hogging the mic during the Question and Answer segment that follows. The Pontiff pontificates and then adjourns to his fuzzy slippers and NASCAR updates. You get to meditate on the meaning of his words. Preferably in silence.

To me, the blogs and other articles that don't allow comments are firmly in this category. You are there to consume, not to enlighten, question or comment. Feel free to do so on your own accord or in your own space, but do not expect the author to join in.

The next highest balcony is the Preacher. Much like the Pontif, he, she or it (if you happen to belong to a rather progressive parish) will lead the discussion from the podium, but does try to rally and encourage the folks in the congregation to join in. Usually after the preacher is done and everyone gathers over doughnuts and coffee in the basement.

Yep, that's kind of like this here blog. i'd like it to be more interactive, but in reality, you're reading this on your time, still, i'm happy to hang out afterwards and discuss things, even if there's no doughnuts. (Really have to work on that Pastery/IP protocol, but the sprinkles really screw with ARP.)

Next level down is the Park, where anyone with a soap box and the motivation can gather a crowd and have his say. He directs, but the crowd can, and often does, take over and lead the discussion, or completely ignore the person.

Honestly, there's a lot of examples of this, from mailing lists to forums, but the one that probably best suits this is a Wiki page. One person starts a topic, then everyone else joins in in some form. The topic changes and adjusts as folks contribute and correct. It's even possible for the gathered crowd to kick out the original author (or for him to leave on his own accord) and the conversation carry on as if he never was there.

The final one is actually kind of new, but worthy of including here. It's the Pub model. Everyone is at the same level and discussions are both noisy and unfocused. It's possible for one discussion to dominate, but not common. Likewise misunderstanding and confusion abound as folks drift in and out.

The online version of this is Twitter. The crowded pub of the internet, the only difference is that it's possible to miss the @louddrunkguy in the corner, but you'll find out he was there when folks RT him.

Like i said, i find things a bit more accessible the lower the balcony happens to be, and i'm not really alone here. Twitter is so popular that every other site wants to be in on the game (e.g. facebook, friendfeed, yahoo, etc.). Wikis (particularly in the form of Wikipedia) are also popular, but for different reasons. Sure, the illusion of authority increases as the balcony rises, but it also becomes much harder to expand and extend the ideas generated.

That's one of the reasons that things like Facebook and Google's FriendConnect stuff tend to rub me the wrong way. Those devices take the conversation away from you and thus (as an author) separate you from your audience, and thus push the balcony higher. Sure, it's great if you want to give the illusion of conversation, but all they do is get you closer and closer to that pointy hat. Even worse, when those services shut down, those conversations are lost.

That's why i'm not going to use those anytime soon. i like talking to folks, particularly folks who are far smarter than me and read my rantings for unknown reasons. i like knowing that i get to decide the fate of these conversations rather than the whims of some random, spark of the moment company.

Now, if only i could figure out what to do with these doughnuts…