If you’ve ever had the chance to create a completely new game,
You know fans have streamed in, even before you give it a name,
Rules are the first thing you’ll soon find the need to reframe,
And before you know it, nothing is ever going to be the same.
Early adopters then begin to demand to be given their voice,
And their opinions are no longer a simple matter of choice,
The game begins to take its own shape, and the circle becomes full,
As it moulds itself through the exuberant hands of push and pull.
Jostling for control could cause the game to easily splinter,
Leaving you desolate in the embrace of a nuclear winter,
But to surrender to the game, would be to lose your identity,
And so you decide, to let the game be its own entity.
Ideally, just quitting should mean the end of your role,
If only it didn’t seek to wring so much out of your soul,
Leaving is usually never part of any founder’s goal,
But sometimes it is the only escape from such rigmarole.
Can the game outshine the founding individual’s fame?
Or will the founder actually outlive the new game?
At what point will be game come to define the founder?
And when will they independently flourish or flounder?
What do the game and the founder actually owe each other?
Especially when nothing is common anymore with one another,
When their relationship is no longer to mutual benefit,
Will it ever be acceptable for either of them to ragequit?
This one is for a special Beacon who inspires me everyday, Aaron Swartz. From being a pioneer in the information democracy space, he went on to become a maverick in prodding the establishment bear. He sent out a bold message in an ultimate Randian gesture. I only wish he had persisted for a little longer before taking this step, in order to make full use of the megaphone when he had it.
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