Steam Punk and Me.

During my formative years (1960's) I lived with my Granny in an isolated cottage in the Yorkshire dales.
Mend and make do.
Waste not want not.
One cold water tap.
One electrical outlet socket.
No indoor sanitation (Lavatory emptied once a month by a miden truck)
Bathing (once in a blue moon) in a galvanised tin bath in front of the fire.
Mobile shops (grocer/butcher) once a week (Wednesday's I think).
Black leaded range for cooking, heating and hot water.
Washing done with a Peggy tub, posser and mangle.
Waking up three hours before we went to bed to go and work at the mill for tuppence a year etc. etc.
Into this Victorian/Edwardian surf life-style the space-age was slowly making it's self felt primarily through the medium of television.
(I tell y' If my Granny knew what went on in Coronation Street nowadays she'd spin in her grave.)
It's no wonder Steam Punk appealed directly to me.

I first came across the term 'Steam Punk' in a review of Hooting Yard though I don't believe it's a description that in anyway fits Mr. Key's grand design in any of the important places.
I read through the Brass Goggles blog, signed up to the forum and joined in the fun and games.

And It was fun and games... then.

I was stunned by the creations of Datamancer, the Steampunk Workshop and Alex C.F.
I felt entirely at home with the 'feel' of the Steampunk Forum, it's civility and inventiveness.
I began reading the literature associated with the genre.
Alan Moores' League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (the film's a bag of shite BTW).
Gibson and Stirling's 'The Difference Engine' which has some interesting ideas, a mcguffin at it's heart, a really bad sex scene and ultimately ends where it should have started.
I read biographies of Nicola Tesla and Charles Babbage (already heroes of mine).
Looking at a future that seemed increasingly unsustainable in terms of consumption I saw the Steam Punk ethic as a way forward.

Though I'm not a natural LARP-ist and, by nature, not particularly gregarious, I went to the meet ups and was introduced to some really clever and interesting people that included a healthy sprinkling of young women. In fact the whole U.K. scene seemed to revolve around, though I'm sure she'd be to self effacing to admit it, the enigmatic Tinkergirl.
To my immense pride I became a moderator of the forum, which was expanding internationally at a phenomenal rate.

Then I began to notice cracks appearing.

Tinkergirl was, knowing I what subsequently found out, understandably to engrossed in her work commitments to give the scene the attention it was beginning to demand, the blog went dead and, at the time, I felt like Sprocket and myself were the only moderators paying attention to what was going on.

Then, out of the blue, I was offered the opportunity to become Tinkergirl's successor.
That seemed to raise a few eyebrows I can tell you.
I didn't, at that time, experience any direct hostility but certainly got the feeling that a few people were wondering 'who the f**k is this Outa_Spaceman bloke?'
Fair comment...

My intention was to make sure that something that I thought was important and had invested a good deal of my energy into survived.
As time has shown I needn't have worried about it surviving of course, but then things seemed different.

I began to perceive a feeling from some quarters that the whole Brass Goggles Empire should be put on some kind of commercial basis which was fundamentally at odds with what I felt should be happening being of the 'if it ain't bust don't fix it' school of thought.
I began to struggle with the responsibility of a movement I felt like a Johnny-Come-Lately bit player in.

I might have resolved my unease if it hadn't been for what should have been a totally unrelated circumstance.

Anyone that reads my blog will know how important my shed is to me.
Some people have churches, some people have temples I have my shed.
I joined a site that linked me up with other people of a similar mind and up-loaded pictures of my shed which ended up, through no fault of the man who did it, on Boing Boing described as a Steam Punk shed.
Not my description.
The comments added to the Boing Boing posting were vicious but I'm a big lad and can take that sort of thing on the chin.
Ignorance is just that, ignorance.

Then the hate mail started.
Slowly at first but then increasing in frequency and virulence.

A good gambler is the one who knows when to fold and walk away.
I hit the 'block' button and I walked.

I've wanted to write this for a long, long time now.
I felt some people deserved an explanation.
It's been hard to write.
How do I feel about Steam Punk now?
It's like an old girlfriend that I loved and lost but still smile affectionally to myself about when ever I think of her.
I met some wonderful people who I hope to be on nodding acquaintance with for what remains of the rest of my life.
People like Tinkergirl, Herr Doktor, Rosel and Professor Fzz.

Fare ye well Steam Punk, you broke my heart but I've moved on.