You are a reviewer. You run your own blog. You only started doing so recently, but you read about things like Web 2.0 and Brand Awareness and SEO and you wanted to get in on a slice of that action. You did not just dive into it unprepared though, you did your research. \n\n[[Continue|Page2]]
Before long, you know exactly what you'll find. There are numerous duplicate comments. Plenty of misspellings. A ton of dubious links. All spam. All spam. You let out a single, gut-wrenching, heart-rending sob. \n\nBeside you on the desk, your cup of tea has gone cold.\n\n[[Continue|Page30]]
You click back to the second most recent post, and view the comments there. \n\n''TIRED OF DINING IN? SAVE BIG ON TAKEAWAYS.\n\nFree domain parking services now, at cheap rates!!\n\nLooking for a legal high? LOOK NO FURTHER.\n\nThese gucci shoes are just to die for buy yours now with discount coupon SHOES10''\n\nYou read them all. You take them all in. You go back to older posts.\n\n[[Continue|Page29]]
The weather outside is no less calm. You've waited until lunch time to sit at the computer. An electric tingle runs through your hand as you place it on the mouse, patiently waiting for the ageing PC to boot up. You can scarcely breathe. From deep within the house, your phone rings. You ignore it.\n\n[[Continue|Page26]]
You sit alone in bed, nursing a cup of hot chocolate. Outside, it's storming. Rain beats rhythms on the window pane, and somewhere in the house you hear the creaking of a curtain pole. But not your silent drape runner. Oh no. That's silent, isn't it? Silent. Perfect. A work of art. You think about it downstairs in your living room, and smile. \n\nAfter finishing your drink, you drift off to sleep, soundtracked by the raging storm. Tomorrow is the day. You can feel it in the air. \n\n[[Continue|Page25]]
//Enlagre your penis now with herbal viagra, 100% results garaunteed!//\n\nThe latest comment. You frown. Your eyes flick downwards.\n\n//I earn $1000 a day working from home, and you can too!\n\nMeet hot local singles in ur area, no credit card required!!!//\n\nYou read, and read, and read. You read all two hundred and nineteen comments. All two hundred and nineteen spambot posts.\n\n[[Continue|Page28]]
There it is. That single, unassuming post, sitting at the top of your blog. Your mouth falls open in silent shock as you glance at the comment blocker's stats. Two hundred and nineteen comments. It is time. Time to stare into the abyss. To face what comes next. To boldly go. \n\nTrembling, you move your cursor over the comment blocker. \n\n[[Read the comments|Page26a]] or [[Don't read the comments|Page26b]]
You're not surprised when you log on the next day and see no less than fifty three comments on your review. You make yourself a cup of tea, come back, refresh the page and there are fifty seven. You smile to yourself, slightly smugly. Surely, now, it'd be okay to read them?\n\n[[Read the comments|Page21a]] or [[Don't read the comments|Page22]]
As soon as you click submit and check the post once over for any last-minute errors which may have snuck in due to your excitement, you shut down the computer and head to bed. Your mind is racing with possibilities. There's a spring in your step as you make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth, and more than once you catch yourself punching the air in glee. It is a good day.\n\n[[Continue|Page21]]
Another day passes. You test and review a chrome shower rail, but your heart's not in it. You give the rail a 7, but you don't post the review, not yet. It feels inconsequential now. Irrelevant. Pointless. Everything has changed.\n\n[[Continue|Page24]]
You resist, and take a much-deserved day off. The next day, the post has over one hundred comments. One hundred and six, if you were counting, which you are. You smirk. You can only imagine what's being said. Maybe now is the time to have a look.\n\n[[Read the comments|Page22a]] or [[Don't read the comments|Page23]]
No. No, you can't. You want to, but you can't. Not yet. Let them stew. Let them rant. Let them argue. And then, when the time is right, you'll know. You'll swoop in, and lay down the law. You'll provide them with a link to buy the drape runners for themselves. You'll enlighten them. But not yet.\n\n[[Continue|Page22]]
Your friend's words echo: There's a time and a place for everything! But not now. Vaguely, you're aware that this is not exactly what he said, but the warning is clear. No matter how tempting it is, you can't read the comments. You resist.\n\n[[Continue|Page10]]
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Hours later, you're standing in the living room. Slowly, gently, you pull the curtains back and forth, the silence making you smile, if only for a fleeting moment. Rain lashes against the window as you stare out, your front lawn disappearing and reappearing with every sweep of the fabric. \n\nYour friend's words echo around the cavern of your mind. Don't read the comments. Don't read the comments. Never read the comments. \n\n[[You read the comments|GoodEnding]].
Don't Read\nThe Comments
Your cursor hovers over the 'view comments' button. You can feel a thin film of sweat on your brow. Just this once won't hurt, right? \n\nThen you pause. No. Your instructions were clear. People can't fail to understand them. They don't need your help. Besides, part of the fun of the curtain rail industry is experimentation and discovery. Who are you to take that away from people? It's just not worth the compromise, not this early into the project.\n\n[[You resist|Page12]]
Like cheap plastic hooks in a Homebase Economy all-inclusive curtain track package, you have come undone.\n\nThe End.\n\n<html><object data = "indreams.mid" type="audio/mid" height="16px" width="100px" autoplay="false" / ></html>
One week and one day later, your package arrives. You've barely shut the front door before you're tearing the parcel open, an excited gleam in your eye. You can't explain it, but you know this is it. This is the one. This changes everything.\n\n[[It's time to do some DIY|Page19]]
A week later and you're finally ready. It's as good as you hoped. Better, even. Much better. It is the curtain track of dreams. The creation of an unassuming housewife in Washington, her Silent Drape Runners will revolutionise the world. And you're the one to have discovered them. Only available through her personal site, and if the counter in the sidebar is to be believed, you're the first purchaser. And what a purchase it was! Noiseless, seamless, ideal for curtains of any weight or fabric type. Flawless. You feel like you've found the Holy Grail, and have said as much in your review. You don't feel as if this is hyperbole. \n\nYou've given the runners 10/10. There was no doubt in your mind. \n\nNow, all that's left is to [[post the review|Page20]].
Ashton Raze
Feeling happy with yourself, you click 'submit' on your next review. This one's a little more daring; an unpopular wooden curtain rail from Habitat, prone to splintering. However, with some experimentation you found just the right varnish, and some perfect three-quarter hooks that transform this shoddy pole into a thing of beauty. You give it an 8/10, with a caveat at the bottom of the review warning buyers of the potential danger should they not follow your instructions.\n\n[[Continue|Page11]]
The next day, you boot up your computer, watching the Windows XP screen with anticipation. You consider upgrading but the prospect of Windows 8 just seems daunting, and too distant from the familiarity of trusty old XP. \n\nSoon, all thoughts of operating systems have fled your mind as you notice yesterday's review has received seven comments. Seven! It's your most popular piece yet. Surely it's okay to read them? What if someone has a question regarding your specific instructions? You don't want to let your readers down.\n\n[[Read the comments|Page11a]] or [[Don't read the comments|Page12]]
You feel like you dodged a bullet. Your breathing starts to regulate again, and you laugh, a barking, nervous chuckle that sounds alien to your ears.\n\nYour next review isn't quite ready yet because it's not bath time until the evening, and you want a little more hands-on time with the product to be sure of your opinions. \n\n[[Continue|Page13]]
It's the next day, and your suspicions are confirmed. This MFI shower curtain, this highly-rated, much-discussed product, is awful. Cheap plastic, a horrible grating sound when you pull the sheeting back, generally very low build quality. You can only assume the other reviewers have been influenced by bribery in some way, and you have insinuated as much in your review. Surely no sane person could actually like this product? You've given it a 3/10, and feel you're being generous as you have otherwise-good memories of MFI's rails. \n\nYou click submit, then hastily return to your bathroom to replace the shower curtain rail with something a little less pedestrian.\n\n[[Continue|Page14]]
It comes as no surprise to you when you hop online the next day and see no less than fifteen comments on your review. You smile wistfully as you imagine the frantic fury your review has no doubt instigated in the discussion. You're almost tempted to Google your name, to see if you've made waves on any external forums. But no, that's also something best avoided, you figure. It's an easy decision to avoid the comments this time, although there's this nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you to have a look. \n\n[[Read the comments|Page14a]] or [[Don't read the comments|Page15]]
The days pass in a blur. You're becoming pretty adept at this blogging thing. You post review after review after review. 4/10. 9/10. 5/10. 7/10. Even a woeful 1/10 for that atrocious Venetian blind setup you found in Poundstretcher. That elusive 10/10 score escapes you. It seemingly matters little to your readers, though. Every review you post garners more and more comments. Seventeen comments. Twenty comments. Twenty two. Twenty seven. You resist. You don't read the comments, no matter how much you want to. It's tough, but you're doing well.\n\n[[Continue|Page16]]
Then, one fateful day, you log onto your blog and your heart sinks. Your last review, a scathing deconstruction of a flimsy brass pole + hook combo, has only received ten comments. You sigh. The world of blogging is cutthroat, and you have always been aware that one day a new, more relevant blogger would come along and steal your thunder. Perhaps, you think, it's time to pack it in for good. Leave the high-flying world of professional curtain track reviewing behind. Settle down. Maybe take up a hobby. \n\n[[Forlorn, you begin to browse the internet|Page17]]
That's when you see it. Tucked away in a small corner of the web, on a site that looks like a Geocities page circa 1996, you see it. Surrounded by gifs of glittering stars and serenaded by a midi rendition of Roy Orbison's 'In Dreams', you find it. You can't explain why, but a chill goes up your spine. So excited are you that you fumble as you enter your credit card details into the relevant fields, and are forced to type the number three times. Finally, it is done, and there's nothing left to do but wait. \n\n[[Wait|Page18]]
You collapse against your desk, sobbing. You try to use your limited Wordpress knowledge to recover the post, but it's too late. It's gone. All the comments are gone. All the discussion, the arguing, the fury. You'll never see it. \n\nMaybe it's for the best, you think, trying to console yourself. Onwards and upwards! \n\nDownstairs, the living room window gently opens. A leather-gloved hand grips the edge of the curtain and pulls it back. You don't hear it move of course. The drape runner is silent, after all. \n\nThe End.
You almost click it. Almost. But the telephone rings. Hastily, you rush to answer it. An irrational part of you wonders if it was a member of the MFI defence force, furious at your betrayal. But no, it is just a telemarketer, offering loft insulation. You don't even have a loft, although you listen intently to the automated pitch and take down the contact details in the event that you move house and do require loft insulation. \n\nBy the time you're back at the computer, Internet Explorer has crashed and you take it as a sign.\n\n[[Continue|Page15]]
You want to. You want to so much. And it's almost time. You can feel it. But no, not yet. You have a lot of responsibility now, and these things have to be timed just right. \n\n[[Continue|Page23]]
'View all comments'. This is it. Now or never. Your breath catches in your throat as you close your eyes and click. \n\n[[Continue|Page27]]
In that fraction of a second before you click, your hesitation gets the better of you. You jerk your hand away from the mouse with a frightened yelp. But it's too late. Your itchy trigger finger works on reflex. You click as the cursor spins wildly out of control. You close your eyes, terrified, your heart beating staccato rhythms against your ribcage. \n\nYou open your eyes. Your heart sinks as you see where your cursor ended up. A message fills the screen. \n\nPOST DELETED.\n\n[[Continue|BadEnding]]\n\n
Your blog goes live with only one review. Ease them in gently, you think. A fairly predictable review of a plastic John Lewis track. Customer reviews back up your opinion. This is good. The track is average, fairly robust but with a tiny bit of flex that can lead to drooping with some of the heavier curtains in your collection. Overall, not bad, but not suitable for those who favour thick material. You give it 6/10. \n\n[[Continue|Page9]]
The next day, you load up your browser and check out the site. Your comment blocker informs you there are four new comments. You want to read them. You know you shouldn't. But it's hard to resist. So very hard. \n\n[[Read the comments|Page9a]] or [[Don't read the comments|Page10]]
For as long as you can remember, you've had an interest in curtain rails. The robust, exciting design of loops on a pole. The sleek, seamless user experience of a stylish curtain track. The durable, waterproof materials of the world's finest shower curtain rail. The rattling of hooks on wood is music to your ears. \n\n[[Continue|Page7]]
For years you dreamed about designing your own curtain rails, of being a pioneer in the field, but you lacked the craftsmanship and expertise. Plus, it was apparent to you that there were many fantastic auteurs already doing some great work. What could you offer the industry? And then it hit you. A blog, reviewing the products. If you couldn't make your own, you'd damn well make an effort to guide people in the right direction. And that is what you did. That is why you set up this blog. It's going to change the industry, you know it. But like any industry-changing thing, it's going to be controversial. You mustn't read the comments. It's not good for you.\n\n[[Continue|Page8]]
Your friend explained that people like having a place to talk, rant or hurl abuse. It's good for traffic, he said, but you don't want to read the comments. Never read the comments.\n\n[[I won't,|Page5]] you assure him, and send your blog live.
Some people review video games. Some people review music. Some review films, toys, board games, restaurants, National Trust houses or webcomics. You have little interest in any of these things. You review curtain rails. And you're extremely passionate about it, too.\n\n[[Continue|Page6]]
Before setting up your blog, you created some infographics to help with your plan. Then you signed up for a free Wordpress account, figuring that if the blog takes off (which, based on your projections, it will) you can buy your own URL and migrate the content over. \n\n[[Continue|Page3]]
Everything was set, and your blog was ready to go live. You excitedly told your friend via Facebook chat. Your friend is a Social Media Guru and has made his fortune. He warned you of one important thing. Don't read the comments. In fact, he said, install this Internet Explorer addon that lets you block comments altogether.\n\n[[Why don't I just disable comments?|Page4]] you asked.