Farewell to Comments

 “We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak.”

— Epictetus

Frequent readers know I’ve often wondered whether it’s worth my time and effort to continue posting at Hobby Games Recce. I have far too many stressors in my life, along with personal demons, constantly urging me to give it up. I’m a stubborn old curmudgeon, so I’ve held on this long...and probably will for a little while longer, at least. Positive interactions with readers always give me a sense of fulfillment, that this is all worth it, even in little ways. Most of those engagements occur in my online social media presences — Bluesky and the Mastodon instance Dicecamp — and only occasionally in the blog’s actual comments section. I still cherish the infrequent comment here, but lately most finding their way into my comment moderation interface are spam. Initially they were blatant spam, but now they’re more cleverly disguised as vague if incorrect references to old posts with some link to a site they’re promoting. We get enough spam in our e-mails and web surfing...I don’t want to allow it here...even if it means diverting authentic comments elsewhere.

Looking back over the posts archived in my blog interface the ones from obvious spammers stand out in their sheer absurdity with or without reference to the post title:

“Sharing Our Toys:” “This is a very informative post. Many users struggle with account access, but your explanation makes the [WEBSITE DELETED FOR SECURITY REASONS] login process simple and easy to understand. Appreciate the effort!”

“A New Game Store in Town:” “Great blog on choosing painting for living room! Your tips on color harmony and theme selection are very helpful. For elegant, modern, and eye-catching living room paintings, [WEBSITE DELETED FOR SECURITY REASONS] offers a stunning collection that beautifully enhances home interiors.”

“French & Indian War: Road Trip & Games:” “Thank you for sharing this informative blog! I really enjoyed reading it and found the insights very helpful. If anyone is looking for a reliable gaming platform with a smooth sign-in experience, [WEBSITE DELETED FOR SECURITY REASONS] is worth checking out. Thanks again for the valuable content — looking forward to reading more of your posts!”

Ew. Reading these makes me feel unclean. They’re not repulsive comments, I’m just disgusted that our interconnected worldwide society has just devolved into this constant fawning shill. Conversely, seeing the logged messages from readers reminds me how much I appreciate hearing from people, whether asking for more information, adding their perspective, thanking me, or just touching base. I hate turning my back on blog comments. It’s the most immediate way folks reading Hobby Games Recce can contact me out of the blue. And some memorable people have.

After running a piece about the late game designer Al Leonardi, his daughter Jill Leonardi offered some kind words about my remembrance:

“Thank you for your thoughtful words. My father had a passion for games and game design. He truly never retired and was still working on game designs before he passed last year. Designing games was life to him. Thank you for helping keep his memory alive.”

A longtime reader, supporter, and friend reacted to one of my serious gaming posts with a callback to an earlier history post in which I mentioned a book on how wargaming influenced World War II:

“A sobering assessment of ‘serious wargaming’ for current policy makers for sure. I remember from your own past blogs I book I read (‘A Game of Birds and Wolves: The Ingenious Young Women Whose Secret Board Game Helped Win World War II’?) which discussed how wargames had turned the tide against U-boat operations so there have been some positive outcomes in wargaming’s relatively short history.”

I loved presenting a quick, easy to play wargame at the 250th anniversary of the Battle of Great Bridge in Chesapeake, VA. Two participants, a father and son, played multiple times, exploring the tactics of both the British and Patriot forces. The father left some kind words on the blog:

“My son was captivated by your game and the strategies. We have spent much of our evening talking about it. Thank you for bringing the game to the battle and it has inspired us to use your rules to develop a version for ourselves.”*

I’m rarely sure sharing my personal perspectives entertains readers, but I try to tie them in with larger issues affecting everyone, not just gamers. And sometimes I am rewarded with kind words from like-minded readers like this one reacting to “Coping Strategies with Game Hobbies:”

“A beautifully written post and I fully echo your sentiments and survival techniques. It’s never running away or hiding from reality, it’s all vital self care and so we can continue engaging with the world around us and playing a meaningful part. And seeing the constant small kindnesses around us.”

Everyone loves receiving compliments on their work. I am grateful to those offering the kind words that have kept me going. But the time has come to remove the comment application on my blog. I don’t get many comments, but most are spammers leaving a curiously innocuous comment that doesn’t quite fit with the content I posted, probably looking for a free mention and a few more hits on some unrelated website. A while back I implemented content moderation, but that only delays valid comments amid the flood of garbage I sift through and mark as spam. So the comments section goes.

When I first started blogging I skipped offering a “comments” function and directed readers to share a link to the article on social media, a means of both promoting the blog and encouraging dialogue. “Comments.… Want to share your opinion? Start a civilized discussion? Share a link to this blog entry on Google+ and tag me (+Peter Schweighofer) to comment.” I expect I will include something similar in the footer reminding people where they can find me online and inviting them to interact with me there.

Thank you to those who’ve left positive comments here; they encouraged me and in many cases inspired some engaging interaction. And I am thankful for everyone who finds me on social media and takes a moment to “like” a post or even write a kind or insightful note. This is the kind of fulfilling interaction that helps keep me going and, I hope, adds some positive engagement for everyone.

* A reminder I still need to adapt the rules from a facilitated event to a print-and-play format more easily shared.

“Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.”

— Winston Churchill

Postscript

More often I’m noticing online websites removing comment sections, notably in news outlets that don’t want to bother with the inevitable invective that has since found a virulent home on what I call X-Twitter. And frankly I understand. Way back at the end of the 20th century I worked at a local weekly newspaper in my hometown. No internet back then, not even e-mail. But someone got the bright idea to offer readers an automated call-in comment line where people could leave phone messages, “news leads” and opinions, they wanted printed anonymously. The newspaper already had a healthy op-ed page with a “Letters to the Editor” policy limiting word count and requiring real names with a street address. But the call-in line was completely anonymous. I felt sorry for the office minion charged every week with listening to those messages and transcribing them for print on the op-ed page. I hated it as editor of a newspaper formerly known for neighborly discourse, however contentious, on its letters page. I’m sure we edited some unsuitable sentiments, but overall management thought this was a great service to our community. Most comments were horridly negative, rarely constructive, and half-garbled in anger. It was a platform for anonymous outrage. The call-in line was a foretaste of the unaccountably rude and toxic voices that now dominate online discourse and, arguably, most media discussions of any issue, from major political controversies to that movie with the non-white and/or female lead. I hated it then and I loathe it now, resigned that this kind of discourse dominates and degrades our social interactions in a forum that one once hoped would enable worldwide communication, sharing of ideas, and connection with all people. Sic transit mundus.