Remember the Peanut Gallery? The staff-sanctioned back room where real helpers dissected tricky flags, crowd-sourced answers, and occasionally got a quiet nod from actual Craigslist employees. It was alive, useful, civil. Staff kept a pinned welcome at the top, a friendly sidebar note, and the door open to anyone who’d been around long enough to earn trust.
That place is dead.
Staff didn’t just walk away; they fled. Pinned greeting: gone. Sidebar: scrubbed. Access locked to pre-2018 accounts only, like a fallout shelter after the blast. The last blue-name post is ancient history. What’s left is a mausoleum where one single user struts around pissing on the corpses of conversations.
The Peanut Gallery is now Hedda’s private arena. Every thread is either a victory lap over imagined enemies or a public execution of whichever helper dared speak without permission. Helpful discussion has been replaced by ritual humiliation: death wishes, armchair psych evals, lectures about how everyone else is a “tragic example of a failing of democracy” or should “die sooner.” The air is so toxic even the ghosts stopped haunting it.
And now the same plague is oozing into flag help, one of three public space where confused users can still get real answers, or offer feedback.
The pattern never changes: Hedda barges in, declares all prior advice garbage from sub-morons, demands the OP ignore everyone else and obey the one true oracle. Disagreement is treated as proof of mental deficiency. New users get scared off, veterans stop posting, threads rot mid-sentence. The forum is starting to smell like the Peanut Gallery did right before it flatlined.
Staff already quarantined one space and let the infection win. If flag help falls the same way, there will be no volunteer ecosystem left, just Hedda, alone on a throne built of burnt bridges, crowning themselves genius while the forum collapses around them.
We’ve watched this movie before. We know exactly how it ends. The only question is whether we finally hit stop, or sit quietly while the credits roll over the ruins.
Written by: MyGoldHandle
No comments:
Post a Comment