If you follow me on Twitter, you’ve probably gleaned how I feel about Gamergate. I’m not even going to attempt to summarize it—this covers it pretty well.

When 4chan started banning every Gamergate-related thread from its videogame forum, the infuriated gamers fled to 8chan (aka ∞chan), a year-old spinoff with its own unique origin story. Gamergate was welcomed with open arms. (I’m guessing Moot wasn’t heartbroken to lose their business.)

So, I know this is a cheap thrill, but I find it incredibly satisfying to read threads on 8chan from Gamergate supporters mourning all their fallen heroes.

We got a taste of this early on with the ultra-savvy geek icons like Joss Whedon and Tim Schafer coming out publicly in support of Anita Sarkeesian, followed by waves of rage and hand-wringing.

But as Gamergate continues to grow, and its accompanying campaign of harassment escalates, more and more artists, writers, and critics are publicly taking a stand against it.

That’s led to a lot of disappointment and frustration from pro-Gamergate supporters mourning the betrayal of their heroes, as they disappear one by one into their Social Justice blacklists.

For someone who’s sick of the abuse, these 8chan threads are pure schadenfreude:

One: https://archive.today/JASOw

Two: https://archive.today/xnFKy

Among the fallen heroes mentioned: Patton Oswalt, Seth Rogen, Felicia Day, William Gibson, Tim Schafer, cartoonist Mariel Cartwright, Joss Whedon, writer Greg Rucka, Wil Wheaton, writer Jim Sterling, John Scalzi, Adam Sessler, Jon Stewart, and the creators of Raspberry Pi, who came out forcefully against #gamergate.

When prompted for alternatives to their lost idols, a handful of names are mentioned, but only those who have remained silent on the issue. Their best hope is that the silent are secretly on their side, since nobody else creating stuff seems to be. They mention Giant Bomb’s Jeff Gerstmann, and the artists behind the Oglaf and Nedroid comics as possible supporters.

I wondered aloud on Twitter if their silence actually meant their support. Anthony from Nedroid immediately replied:

@skinny @waxpancake @Oglaf @jeffgerstmann yes, they are wrong. I don’t support “gamergate” in any way and I think the whole thing is awful.

— Anthony (@nedroid) October 17, 2014

Oglaf’s Trudy Cooper replied later that night:

@nedroid @skinny @waxpancake @jeffgerstmann Completely wrong. I had no idea what "gamergate" was until just now. As if I'd support it, c'mon

— Bodil Bodilson (@Oglaf) October 17, 2014

This morning, Jeff Gerstmann posted a strong statement against Gamergate in an editor’s letter on Giant Bomb:

So when “GamerGate” rose up to cover over a campaign of harassment with a veneer of concern for the ethics of games journalism, it more or less set off every single disgust alarm I have. Though I’m sure some good people have been roped into this mess under this guise, the ethical concern portion of all this is largely a farce, a fallacy.

Cross those three off the idols list, I guess.

Towards the end of the thread, one commenter summed it up, “We have to accept that pretty much the entirety of western society has turned against us and chugged kool-aid like crazy.”

I’ve said it before—creating something new and putting it online is an act of bravery, and it exposes you to a tremendous amount of criticism. At any level of popularity, you deal with kneejerk contrarians, self-entitled fans, and anonymous haters—the bread and butter of the Gamergate movement.

It’s not too surprising that they’re having a hard time winning their heroes over to their side.

@waxpancake One would think the realization that "all my heroes are against me" might lead to some faint flicker of self-reflection.

— Patrick Smith (@Patrick5mith) October 17, 2014

Twitter’s for 140-character short-form writing and Medium’s for long-form. Weirdly, there really isn’t a great platform for everything in the middle — what previously would’ve just been called “blogging.” Mid-length blogging. Middling.

I think that’s partly why seeing Matt Haughey, Paul Ford, and Michael Sippey restart regular blogging on Paul’s delightfully retro tilde.club is so refreshing to me. I miss seeing people I admire post stuff longer than a tweet.

So I think I’ll try doing the same thing here. In the early days of Waxy.org, before I launched the linkblog, I used to blog short posts constantly. Multiple times a day. Twitter and Waxy Links cannibalized all the smaller posts, and as my reach grew, I started reserving blogging for more “serious” stuff — mostly longer-form research and investigative writing.

Well, fuck that. I miss the casual spontaneity of it all, and since I’m pretty sure hardly anybody’s reading my site again after the death of Google Reader, the pressure’s off.

What do I have to lose?

Update: Nice, Gina Trapani’s in too.

Building something like Ello costs money. They have a team of at least seven people, and have worked on it for months. That doesn’t come cheap.

The About section makes it seem like Ello was built independently, a group of artists making something for themselves, presumably funded by volunteer effort and maybe a seed investment from Ello president and CEO Paul Budnitz, who also founded Kidrobot and Budnitz Bicycles.

But a little digging shows a much more predictable source: they took a $435,000 round of seed funding in January from FreshTracks Capital, a Vermont-based VC firm that announced the deal in March.

Why is this a problem?

The Ello founders are positioning it as an alternative to other social networks — they won’t sell your data or show you ads. “You are not the product.”

If they were independently-funded and run as some sort of co-op, bootstrapped until profitable, maybe that’s plausible. Hard, but possible.

But VCs don’t give money out of goodwill, and taking VC funding — even seed funding — creates outside pressures that shape the inevitable direction of a company.

Before they opened their doors, Ello became hooked on an unsustainable funding model — taking cash from VCs — and will almost certainly take a much larger Series A round once that $435,000 dries up. (Which, at their current burn rate, should be in a couple months.)

And they’ll have no trouble getting it. There’s a lot of money out there right now, and it will be extremely tempting to take it, especially if refusing it would mean closure or layoffs.

The problem, of course, is that VCs aren’t like Kickstarter backers, or even like angel investors. Kickstarter or Patreon backers just want the thing being made. Angel investors may have other reasons to invest beyond equity: fame, insider access, or maybe just the joy of helping something exist.

VCs may invest in things they think are interesting or want to exist, but they primarily invest money in startups to get a return on their investment, on behalf of their limited partners. That return usually takes the form of an exit: an acquisition or an IPO.

Unless they have a very unique relationship with their investors, Ello will inevitably be pushed towards profitability and an exit, even if it compromises their current values. Sometimes, this push comes subtly in the form of advice and questions in emails, phone calls, and chats over coffee. Sometimes, as more direct pressure from the board. (FreshTracks’ Managing Director sits on their board.) Or, if things go bad, by replacing the founders.

The Ello team knows that how a startup is funded shapes how it behaves. They spend a good chunk of their About pages talking about how they’re not going to make money (not ads or selling your data), and a little bit about how they hope to (paid premium features). I hope they’re right — it’d be great to have more startups that aren’t reliant on ads.

But they completely fail to disclose how Ello is being funded now, which matters just as much, if not more, as any future revenue plans.

I love seeing people build new stuff. More people trying to build crazy experimental communities on the Internet is a very good thing. And nothing’s more audacious than trying to build a new social network.

Social networks become the glue that connect people together — the foundation for friendships, relationships, and new works of creative expression.

Building a social network is like opening the doors to a huge party and inviting everyone in. Without a way to get your stuff out, shutting down a social network is like locking the door and burning the place down.

At the moment, Ello is a free, closed-source social network, with no export tools or an API, fueled by venture capital and a loose plan for paid premium features. I think it’s fair to be skeptical.

Like everyone else here, I hope Ello can stick to their principles, resist outside pressure, fight market forces, and find a unique and sustainable niche.

Let’s hope their investors feel the same way.

(Note: I originally posted this article on Ello shortly after its launch, along with a followup responding to the media interest.)

On Saturday, a Twitter account appeared that perfectly predicted the outcome of the final World Cup game, down to who scored the winning goal for Germany. It was a con—and a classic one. (We’ll talk about how the con works in a moment.)

But it also felt like a missed opportunity, and immediately made me think of a much more serious con perfect for the 2016 election.

The Long Con

On November 9, 2016, the day after the presidential election, a YouTube video appears.

In the video, uploaded six months earlier, a member of Anonymous holds a leaked memo from the CEO of an electronic voting machine manufacturer. The memo states they’ve been contracted to manipulate the results of the upcoming presidential election, and clearly outlines what those results will be.

The memo goes on to say that the chosen presidential nominee will win by a small margin, and detailed state-by-state breakdowns are included in an attached spreadsheet.

To prove their claims, the Anonymous whistleblower points to Flickr and Instagram accounts with detailed scans of the memo, a Dropbox with 50 state-separated CSV files with election outcomes for each, and, finally, a Twitter account that details the electoral results for every state, the outcome of several key Senate and House races, and a final electoral tally.

Every single timestamp, across four different services, checks out—June 2016, shortly after the Democratic and Republican nominees were chosen.

And every single prediction is accurate. The Internet implodes in the biggest conspiracy theory ever.

How It’s Done

The scenario above is totally possible, easy to fake, and doesn’t require a nefarious conspiracy and Snowden-level leaker to pull off.

All it requires is a little programming knowledge, and six months of patience. Here’s how.

1. Start by creating new private accounts for YouTube, Flickr, Dropbox, and Twitter.
2. Create four fake memos representing four different scenarios—Republican and Democratic victories with either marginal or landslide results.
3. Upload four videos to YouTube explaining the four different results, and show closeups of the respective memos you’ve created. Upload the scanned memos to Flickr and Instagram.
4. Create comma-separated text files with your electoral results, two for every state. Since each state’s electoral votes are winner-take-all, list the nominee and electoral vote count in each. Upload the 100 CSV files to Dropbox. (Knowing a little code will make this much quicker.)
5. Using the Twitter API, post tweets with every possible outcome. You should end up with two tweets for each state result or Congressional race. (Three if there’s a strong third-party contender.)
6. Finally, for the electoral tally, write a script that uses the Twitter API to tweet every possible permutation of the final national electoral tally. With 538 electoral votes, you should end up with 1,076 tweets — from a 538-0 Republican washout to a 0-538 Democratic landslide, and every variation in between. (The variations could be easily narrowed by taking swing states into account, but why bother?)
7. When all the results are in, delete every single incorrect prediction.
8. Make the account public.

What’s left appears impossible: four social media accounts with six-month-old predictions, and 100% accuracy.

Selective Memory

This is a modern update to a classic confidence game—find a risky scenario with limited possibilities, bet on every single combination, and then hide your failures. The result is that you look like you’re either psychic or a goddamned genius.

Variations of this scam have been used for centuries in finance, magic, and gambling.

Mutual fund companies bring new funds to market by incubating new funds outside of the public eye for years, then actively market the strongest performers with the highest returns. Poof! You’re an overnight Warren Buffett!

Magician Derren Brown provided a perfect demonstration in the context of horse race betting, sending consecutive race predictions to 7,776 individuals divided into ever-shrinking groups, until he was left with one person who’d received five consecutive winning predictions. Convincing her to hand over her life savings was trivial.

The FIFA hoax last weekend took a conspiracy bent, alleging that the governing body overseeing the World Cup was corrupt.

The account, @FifNdhs, posted four flawless predictions of the final World Cup match between Germany and Argentina, implying that Argentinian players took a dive.

The account went viral in minutes, with each prediction being retweeted tens of thousands of times.

But the would-be leaker made a fatal mistake: they forgot to make the account private before deleting their wrong predictions. Multiple people were able to grab screenshots, instantly debunking the hoax.

This @FifNdhs has tweeted multiple outcomes and then deleted wrong ones #WorldCupFinal #WorldCup2014 pic.twitter.com/OzYDqodOme

— Suresh Nakhua (सुरेश नाखुआ) 🇮🇳 (@SureshNakhua) July 13, 2014

This hoax plays into our biases:

1. Technological.We trust that timestamps on social media can’t be manipulated.
2. Cognitive. We tend to attribute credibility to those things we can see that survived a process, and not those that are less visible. See: Survivorship bias.
3. Emotional. Conspiracies can confirm our existing distrust in particular entities, whether it’s FIFA or the federal government.

The beauty of this hoax is that it works with any scenario limited to less than a few thousand permutations, and on any service that lets you mark posts or accounts private. Want to prove the Oscars are rigged? Your local school board election? Apple’s stock price? Go nuts!

But for everyone else: never trust a prediction revealed after its outcome.

For the second time in 18 months, I’ve lost a friend to depression—a unique, young talent with their greatest years ahead of them.

Chloe Weil tasted words. She was vulnerable to rich emotional experiences in the summertime. She hated her birthday, and she hated surprises. She had a cat named FACE that was famous on Reddit for a day. She helped us listen to songs traveling across the stars.

She was, in short, a badass.

Chloe was a person who made things. She made things with code, with fabric, with yarn, with charcoal, with sugar.

She poked fun at her depression, even as she was fighting it.

Chloe, I wish I’d told you in life how much I admire you, how incredibly talented I think you are. You continually made things, and like your synesthesia, they revealed someone who experiences the world unlike anyone else I know.

I wish I’d been able to say these words to you in person, instead of writing them to you in death, so that you could have tasted every one.