Modmail isn't public, is it? It's only viewable to the sub's mods. If it isn't public, then it is not equivalent to asks.
288 karma · joined April 10, 2018
Modmail isn't public, is it? It's only viewable to the sub's mods. If it isn't public, then it is not equivalent to asks.
Plus what the other commenter said about formatting and poor workflow. The mods can just barely handle the current workload of reviewing ~30-40 posts per day, choosing 20 to post, and adding tags as needed. If we had to open an email, then open a link (and hope the link was functional and not malicious), then review the submission, then copy the submission, then open the "submit a post" dialogue, then paste, then format, then post... yeah, that's way too much.
There's an IFTTT workflow for sending Tumblr posts to Reddit, but unfortunately the API it uses doesn't preserve any formatting, so you end up with a giant text blob. I don't think it could handle image posts. If that worked, I'd happily start sending things to a subreddit.
The key differentiator is the curation. Only those submissions which my mod team approves get posted to the blog, unlike Reddit where all submissions get posted first and then up/downvoted accordingly. I think (?) Reddit might have a way to curate, but it's not feasible at the scale of Reddit and a subreddit equivalent of the blog would quickly overwhelm the mod team and have to become uncurated. Considering the number of low-quality submissions we actively curate out, the result would be a significantly degraded experience. Which is not to say a transfer to Reddit is impossible, but it would definitely be An Effort, and one I'm not sure I'm willing to put in for what's been a fun hobby project for the last seven years.
Asks are another Tumblr feature that I haven't seen in other places. An ask is a question submitted to the blog mods, which the mods can reply to either publicly or privately, and which are visually differentiated on users' dashboards. On Reddit, a question to the mods would look exactly like any other post, and the mods' answer could easily be lost in the sea of general comments on the post.
There are also lesser features that Tumblr has that I've never seen on other platforms. Tagging is a big part of Tumblr culture and something I've had a lot of fun with on my blog. Reblogs and replies are very different forms of interaction than retweets/@'s. Fun coincidences like "dash did a thing" (where two unrelated posts show up together on a user's dashboard in a way that's amusing) don't appear to be a thing on other platforms for various reasons. The visual layout and formatting of Tumblr posts on the dashboard tends to be more readable than Reddit or Twitter.
These are all little things, but they're little things that have built up the personality of the blog over the years. I'd rather close the blog with its personality intact than watch it slowly die as yet another subreddit plagued by low-quality posts, insufficient moderation, and sameness.
(This sounds like I'm down on Reddit, which is not the case at all - I like Reddit, just not as a possible host for my blog.)
Unfortunately, we still see about the same total number of spambots and fake blogs in our notes. So at least from my own anecdotal experience, the ban did nothing except drive away human users.
A lot of our followers asked if/when we would move to another platform, but unfortunately for them (and us), Tumblr is the only major blog platform we know of which supports a curated, moderated submissions-based blog. Reddit is the closest runner-up in that it allows submissions and can be moderated, but isn't curatable for all intents and purposes. I suspect if (when) Tumblr goes under, it's going to take my blog with it, which is disappointing.
1) Laws passed in the 1970s that lock in a home's tax value unless/until it's sold, meaning anyone who owned a home in the 70s will never, ever want to sell because their taxes will skyrocket from their fixed 70's values;
2) NIMBYs forbidding the construction of new housing, especially any high-density housing, meaning an area that's massively grown in population has not significantly grown in housing availability;
3) Tech companies insisting on building huge campuses here, attracting more and more people, who use their tech salaries to snap up the extremely limited housing, leading to tech companies needing to pay higher salaries to attract new employees, leading to those higher salaries being used to outbid others on houses, leading to tech companies needing to pay higher salaries...
When we rented our last house, the real estate agent handling the rental asked why we, a Bay Area-salaried DINK couple, weren't buying. We laughed, because the down payment alone on the house we were renting - a dinky, dingy two-bedroom from the 60s which hadn't been significantly upgraded or maintained since - would have been close to our combined yearly income, never mind the taxes and mortgage payments. And that was for one of the crappiest houses in the neighborhood, not one we'd actually consider buying.
They were born in the early 50s, long before computers and consoles were anything like mainstream. They watched us game as kids, but it wasn't until very recently that either of them has actually tried playing much. They're both responding to games like teenagers, but that's anecdotes, not data.
I'd love to know if it's an issue of age alone, age+responsibilities (i.e., do 30- to 40-year-olds who don't have kids or other time-consuming responsibilities shift their preferences the same way equivalent-aged parents do?), or age of their gaming career (i.e., do people who pick up gaming in their middle years or later start with the same interests as young gamers and gradually age out of them with time, or do they start with the interests of "old" gamers?).
- OneShot
- The Talos Principle
- Portal, if you haven't already played it
- Submachine
- The Myst series
- The Room series
- The Tomorrow Corporation collection
- Anything by Amanita Design
Edit: This article has less detail than I remember, but covers the gist (and makes the same Black Mirror reference): https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/02/05/customer-satis...
A very rough metaphor (and again IANA doctor or scientist, just someone who's struggled with this personally for two decades) would be, "Stitches help people who are bleeding!" Yes, that is true in some cases and under certain circumstances, but what we've been doing with antidepressant drugs is roughly the equivalent of treating every possible bleeding wound with some variant of stitches or butterfly closures. Very effective for some, not helpful for others, actively harmful for a minority.
Because we haven't figured out how to monetize it yet. Or perhaps more accurately, we haven't convinced the average consumer that it's worth paying for.
In theory, we could build services which do combine privacy with convenience, but consumers would have to be willing to pay for those services - and pay enough to make them viable. But too many people are too accustomed to "free" services, paid for with their data/loss of privacy (an intangible loss which many people either don't care about or believe it's too late to recover), to like the idea of handing over cold hard cash instead (a tangible loss which could directly impact the ability of people on limited budgets to access these services).
It's interesting to me how much advice about communication involves using a person's name. Do most people like hearing their name dropped frequently in conversations with strangers or near-strangers? Or is this one of those weird unproven "truths of the business" that get repeated because they sound good rather than because there's hard data backing up their effectiveness?
(I am not saying no hard data exists; I've just never seen any and the anecdotes I've heard indicate the opposite, so I'm curious.)
Once I realized that, I bought a $30 light alarm. It starts to glow softly about half an hour before my desired wake-up time, and except for once or twice when I was too buried under the covers to see the light, it consistently wakes me much more smoothly and pleasantly than getting jarred awake by a jangling alarm. (It has a back-up audio alarm that plays at your normal wake-up time, which shuts off when you turn off the light part.)
What I think a lot of novice writers, and people giving advice to novice writers, often miss is that "hooking" your reader doesn't mean immediately assualting them with action. All it means is raising a question the reader wants to know the answer to.
For example, "The Wizard Hunters" opens with the line "It was nine o'clock at night and Tremaine was trying to find a way to kill herself that would bring in a verdict of natural causes in court, when someone banged on the door." Not much action - Tremaine is sitting in a dusty library reading books - but that line raises two immediate questions: 1, why is Tremaine trying to kill herself in a way that would be ruled "natural causes", and 2, who's banging on the door at 9pm?
Similarly, "Black Sun Rising", the first book of the Coldfire Trilogy, opens with the line "She wondered why she was afraid to go home." Again, the line raises multiple questions, inviting the reader to keep reading to learn the answers.
The scary thing is, most of the people I worked with genuinely believed that ideas like this are good for the user. The fact that such things require extensive privacy invasions don't even cross their minds, because they don't think of it as a privacy invasion. It's just another way to "optimize" toward some goal or another.
So from Kara's point of view, you're getting just as emotional and defensive about, and ignoring clearly articulated, rational, objective arguments for, the decision as you claim she is. Which is the point of the article - if someone goes into a discussion assuming they are the only one who is "objectively correct", they've already failed.
I've used the method outlined in the article very often in my career and it almost always works. Often it turns out I was right and we shouldn't have done X - but sometimes it turns out that Kara knew something I didn't, and X worked out way better than I expected.