Not only do I have a few stories to tell about the strange souls I've met online, I have enough of them to fill a number of webpages, and I've done just that. You can go read some of those stories if you want to, and I'll be happy to provide you with a few links, but are you sure that you want to read about this?

The great problem with the Internet, especially for somebody who wishes to put it to legitimate purposes (say, like sharing research results) and who has to post using his real name, is that the medium offers the possibility of semi-anonymous, consequence free communication for those who are there only to harass others or otherwise do mischief. Imagine a pack of the kind of people who live to place obscene phone calls, just absolute classic creeps, getting together and creating their own underground subculture, and then coaxing newcomers to adopt their ways. Imagine, instead of dealing with these people one-on-one, you found that these shady individuals were networking without fear of their real identities being discovered. How would you respond to that reality?

Some, like a few of the people you might read about in the pages ahead, saw it as an opportunity that they could politically exploit, and all they needed to do was let go of a few ethical scruples. I take some small pleasure in the fact that I was not one of those people. I think that I would have found rather more pleasure in that fact were I a little less alone in it, but in retrospect, seeing what I've seen of the American cultural mainstream, I'm not sure of why I was so surprised to be disappointed as I was. I certainly had plenty of opportunity to see the common man in all of his amoral glory when, shall we say, not really fitting in ethnically or religiously into my old home town, I found myself getting jumped in the school hallways by some of the future Aryan youth. I'm not sure how they managed to put a macho spin on the part of the story where they got the snot beaten out of them by a partially disabled member of "an inferior race", as they retold the stories of their youths years later, but I do remember the preaching I got from those "nice, nice" small town folk about how awful it was, just awful, that I wasn't a good enough Christian to let myself be used as a punching bag, and what did I mean I wasn't a Christian? I think that sometimes, as I deal with urban unpleasantness, maybe I tend to backburner memories like those, remembering my small town past as being much more pleasant and civilized than it was, which is regrettable because that is not how one gains experience.

That self-righteous, amoral cowardice that would seek to keep others in their place by stigmatizing the act of standing up for oneself has been a constant presence in the popular culture, one that guarantees that the crazies and the genuine psychopaths among us, instead of meeting resistence, find support. There really was no reason for me to expect much of anything from the mostly American population of the online world, and logically I probably should have seen that, but for some reason I was reluctant to see my alleged countrymen as, say, the Parisians tend to see them, even if on the whole, even the Parisians tend to be far too kind. In truth, in most of the United States, there isn't much left to love; just a celebration of the very worst that is to be found in Man, and with the coming of Postmodernism the celebration has reached a fever pitch.

Was life ever different here? As a matter of degree, I'm old enough to know that the answer to that question is an unequivocal "yes". There's that disturbing moment that comes when one is talking to somebody and it hits one that there's nobody there behind that glazed smile that confronts one, no heart, no mind, no soul, and every day, as I talk to those younger than me, I find that experience getting to be a little more common. Then I think of my grandparent's generation, not a perfect group of people by any stretch of the imagination, but so very real, and on the whole, so very much more trustworthy than any of those who followed, to say nothing of being more creative, and no, that's not a tangent. As much as some people don't want to hear this any more, a good character can be a source of strength, both for individuals, to whom it gives a sense of purpose, and to societies, because without it, we can't help but come to blows.

What can I say about my stretch on Usenet? Just like my stint in Middle School, it's an experience I would have rather skipped, but it was one of those times when I did what had to be done, even if that doesn't seem very nice at all. Slamming the school bully's head into a locker until he couldn't move any more probably wasn't a nice thing to do, but if you were one of the kids the school administration had let him make a career out of brutalizing, I suspect the fact that the big semi-yiddish kid wasn't a big warm fuzzy teddy bear in the making, probably made your life a little easier. The fact that I was making my own life easier in the process, while we're at it, was hardly a bad thing. When, some years later, on encountering the pedophiles at the height of their political power, I deflated their egos a little and gave our politically correct perverts a verbal beating in the process of giving back as well as I was getting, maybe that wasn't very nice, but you know what? They looked a little weaker, not quite as many people supported them afterwards, and if you need to ask me how I feel about having been such a coldhearted b**tard to those poor crazy old cabal members, all I have to do is look down at my nieces and nephews, and I've got my answer, because I know what matters and I know who matters.

No, I'm not so egotistically deluded as to think that my little squabble is what turned the tide of history in the right direction, but every contribution counts. Every bully left bleeding under his locker is another victim left to walk home in peace; every cyberthug left feeling impotent is another normal person left unharassed, if only for today, as they cyberthug is left looking for a new group of supporters who might take him seriously, and while the crazies are away, everybody else gets to talk.

Not for long, as it turned out, as the crazies won in the end, but in the end Usenet also wasn't being taken as seriously as it once was in the world offline, either; that crowd's time to do real damage had passed. How much of a difference did my efforts make, in reducing the impact of Usenet's temporary popularity as a source of information? I don't know, but when I see some of my old arguments against the once trendy position of support for the legalization of prostitution appearing elsewhere, I know that somebody was listening, and I know that I spoke up in support of what was right. Doing so didn't win me any popularity contests, especially after a number of users who liked to imagine themselves as being far brighter than they were found themselves looking rather foolish. Some, like the cowardly enablers at that middle school of so very long ago, have strived to keep the rumor mill going, trying to extract a political price for my shameful refusal to lie low, which is why some of these pages exist today. They aren't pleasant reading for those who have lived sheltered lives and imagine that unpleasant things never need to be done, but for any grownups reading this who were curious about some of the stories they might have heard, these pages offer truthful, documnted accounts. Read them if you're interested, as exprience tells me that some people will be, but don't ask me any questions about them. I write these accounts so that I can let my pages do my talking for me, as I move on to more interesting matters and hope you'll do likewise.

But if answers to the rumors are what you want, there they are.

These pages are not located on the Lyocs server. They are located at different providers with different TOS agreements, allowing much of that which is forbidden at Tripod and Angelfire. In some locations, as the TOS allows, you will find profanity, nastiness, political incorrectness, and other things that the lady's bridge club wouldn't approve of at all. If this bothers you, turn back, now. By ignoring this warning, you'll forfeit any right to complaint to anybody about these links and be taken seriously, and I think you know how much sympathy you'll get from me, so make your choice and deal with it like an adult. Capiche?

1. The Halls of Eternal Disbelief

   1. Social Dynamics of the Cabal - [Newsguy] [Geocities]
   2. The Fred Cherry Story - [Newsguy] [Geocities]
   3. Tim Skirvin lays down the law. Sort of. - [Newsguy] [Geocities]
   4. An Open Letter to Suba - [Newsguy] [Googlepages]
   5. Tara Ball, Drugs and You - [Newsguy] [Freewebsites]

2. Cafe Satan
3. The Saguaro Lounge