How to Get Thousands of Leads from Quora in Five Months
This… is a Quora I do not inhabit.
And don’t care to.
Enjoy your Leads, Mr Fechter.
Oh. And your Quill.
How to Get Thousands of Leads from Quora in Five Months
This… is a Quora I do not inhabit.
And don’t care to.
Enjoy your Leads, Mr Fechter.
Oh. And your Quill.
You can have an answer collapsed. (You are not notified of it unless it was for BNBR.)
You can get a BNBR warning on a comment or answer. If it’s on a comment, the comment gets deleted.
You can be edit-blocked. Initially for a week. For repeat offences, the period can be extended to a month, three months, or six months. Nick Nicholas’ answer to What does it mean to be edit-blocked or banned on Quora?
You can be banned.
Some of the time, your ban can be rescinded.
Some of the time, your ban can be reinstated.
Scrolling past, and seeing everyone say “just take a break, coz we love you man”, and wondering “but is that best for Jeremy”…
… and I see Masiello say: if it’s no fun, then leave.
I was gonna say that. Damn you, Magister!
And then he says he’ll eventually bail too.
Damn you double!
Jeremy, we’re here because it’s fun. Yes it’s addictive too. But if it stops being fun, quitting is always an option. It has to be.
You also took an extended break a few months back because you wanted to focus more on your non-profit idea. If this is removing your focus from what you think is more important, then you’re entitled to quit on that account too.
Of course I’d prefer you stick around, and we keep *cough* collaborating on *cough* research projects. And of course, taking a break is the less drastic option. But it’s not my life, it’s yours. You get to weigh up the pros and cons.
Whatever you decide: we’re proud of you.
I have had conversations in Klingon, including with the guy who was trying to teach his kid to speak in Klingon. (The kid lost interest in it, and I have found a photo of the kid, 15 years later, jumping into a mosh pit. He’s turned out fine. 🙂
The vocabulary admittedly can be a little restricted in some domains. But it can be done, and I have done it.
You aren’t really going to be able to hold a conversation in Klingon, unless you’ve studied The Klingon Dictionary. The book is available in Italian and (I think) German, so in theory it is possible for two people with no common natural language to converse in Klingon. In practice, if any Klingon speaker does not understand English, I would be exceedingly surprised.
16th century, though they were aware of the Arabic system from the 14th century. It was preceded by Milesian numerals, which were universal by the 1st century AD; before that, they used variants of Attic numerals.
See Nick Nicholas’ answer to Did ancient Greek scholars ever adapt Roman numerals? for more detail of Arabic numeral adoption.
That vague and interstitial domain known as Cultural Studies.
It’s an area I have very little formal training in, and have lots of opinions about. Because I have little formal training, I am forced to think hard about whether my speculations stand up to scrutiny, and I put extra effort into structuring an argument. That, I find very enjoyable.
I enjoy writing about stuff I am actually trained in, as well. But that’s not nearly as challenging.
Well, Kyle, you did A2A me. I think you must have had some idea what you were going to get in response.
Seems like most of these writers don’t actually care much about getting the designation.
Eeyup. And let me not launch into another jeremiad about The Quill. Let me instead link to someone else’s very good jeremiad about The Quill: Lance LaSalle’s answer to Are you disappointed in the March 2017 Top Writer announcements?
I know my worth, and so do the users I interact with. I don’t need a jacket or a buffet to tell me so. Especially a jacket or a buffet from as unresponsive and capricious an organisation as Quora has shown itself to be.
But if they were to engage in a bit of self-evaluation,
Oooh, them’s fighting words, Kyle. 🙂
what do they think they’d have to do differently in order for the selection team to include them?
I’ve heard a rumour that people who don’t get The Quill actually contact Quora staff to ask them that.
It’ll be a frosty day on the Acheron before I do so. (Assuming there even is a selection team, as opposed to an algorithm.) I don’t have to, mercifully; I have positive feedback from flesh and blood users, like Jennifer Edeburn, who has in fact helped me improve my writing through two suggestions: (a) provide more context and explanation; (b) tone down the venom.
Why yes, I have toned down the venom. You should have seen what I was writing a year ago.
What others have speculated about in this thread, which is already making me inch to use my block button?
I don’t see what I need to change to get The Quill. Or at least, what I need to change, that I’d be prepared to change.
I’m not a fan of Feifei Wang’s writing, but there are times I find she truly hits the nail on the head; she did so with her answer here. (And even more so with her retort in comments. Seriously. Read it, and savour it.)
So did Jeremy Markeith Thompson. So did Jordan Yates. So did Gigi J Wolf. So did Michael Masiello.
So did Lance LaSalle:
I thought to myself, I thought: damn, if I have to change my writing style, (include less humor, for example, or make it a bit drier and more direct, and include some footnotes) than I really don’t want it. I got people to meet. Decisions to make. Cakes to bake, etc.
Quill-bearers, I’m happy for you. And I’ve congratulated all my friends who got a quill this year.
But I feel no envy towards you. I don’t feel that I’m missing out on anything. If it comes to self-evaluation, I’ll take Jennifer’s advice on how to write better, over a black box’s. And if it comes to having a drink with friends (with better quality nibbles than Quora appears to fork out for), just let me know when any of you come to Melbourne.
Any of you I haven’t blocked, that is… 🙂
I’m sure I’ve seen variants of this question already.
I have not concluded that pictures matter; I use them sparingly, but they don’t seem to act as instant clickbait.
What I have concluded from upvotes—and these are fairly common conclusions—are:
And:
James Garry’s answer to Since the active and middle voices of the 2nd aorist forms of “to stand” are intransitive (ἵστημι – ἔστην vs ἐστάμην), are these forms synonymous? This is the answer to this question. And my thanks, James.
What I’m writing here is an answer to a more general question: how much do active/middle voice distinctions matter? It’s an elaboration of Nick Nicholas’ answer to In Ancient Greek, does the middle voice of φιλέω (φιλέομαι) mean “I love in my own interest,” “I love myself,” (reflexive) or “I am loved” (passive)?
My thanks for your indulgence.
English distinguishes between Active and Passive verbs. The distinction is fairly clear cut. An intransitive verb is always active. If a transitive verb is active, the subject is doing stuff; if the transitive verb is passive, the subject is having stuff done to them.
Homeric Greek worked on a different, Active/Middle distinction; in many ways, that distinction has lasted to this day. In that distinction, if a verb is transitive, the active still means you’re doing stuff, and the middle means you’re having stuff done to you. Or that you’re doing it to yourself. Or that you’re doing it for yourself. Or that you’re doing it to each other.
And that’s the easy bit.
What happens when the verb is intransitive?
When the verb is intransitive, it could be active, or it could be middle.
There is a kind of semantics to it. Kind of. If the intransitive verb is active, it means that you’re doing stuff, you’re acting. If the intransitive verb is middle, it means that you’re just sitting there, that you’re passive—or at least, that your actions are inward. So run or go are active. Work or sleep are middle.
Does that distinction sound unconvincing? Good. Because it was.
I mean, the distinction was there. But it was not stable, and it was not consistent, and it was not rigorous.
The distinction was inconsistent enough that some intransitive verbs got to be either active or middle; lampō ‘shine’, for example. In fact, some perfectly transitive verbs also got to be either. So for lambanō, there is an active usage, meaning ‘take’, and a middle usage, meaning ‘take hold of, seize’.
Now, if you are approaching grammar synchronically, like a good structuralist, any contrast in grammatical form must correspond to some contrast in meaning. There has to be some nuance there; some notion of more active vs more passive, some connotation picked up from other actives or middles, some subtlety. It can’t just be random.
People speaking the language at a point in time have good reason to think so. Writers are certainly going to be alert to all the connotations and resonances latent in the language, and they will exploit them. Yes, synchronically there is no such thing as a true synonym.
If you’re working in the diachronic model, you are much more cynical about structuralist notions of paradigm and meaning distinctions, because your business involves watching those structures morph and evaporate.
It’s an overly fuzzy view of language. It’s why a century of Indo-European historical linguistics, which focussed primarily on phonology, did not come up with a concept of the phoneme: it was too busy seeing sounds change to work out the structure of sounds. But it’s a healthy cynicism to bring to bear, when there are overly subtle nuances in play. Even if they’re there, they’re evanescent.
The instance that has made me sceptical about fine active/middle nuances in Greek is phaîo. It’s a verb I spent hours trying to work out in Pindar: The tale of φαῖο.
I couldn’t work it out, because it wasn’t in the grammar books: the 19th century editions of Pindar, that the grammar books were based on, used the active optative of ‘you would say’, φαίης, and that’s what the grammars had documented. The 1971 edition of Pindar switched to the middle optative φαῖο. Both forms turn up in manuscripts.
‘Say’ is one of those intransitive verbs that could appear in the active or in the middle (in the optative mood in particular). Was there a subtle semantics involved? Was there a notion of actively saying something versus passively saying something? Like, asserting versus conceding, or something like that?
Nah. It’s much simpler than that. It’s a dialect difference. Attic used the active in the optative of phēmi ‘say’; Doric, the dialect of Pindar, used the middle. (The edition switched the voice, because they figured that the scribes that had copied Pindar over the generations were more familiar with Attic than Doric.) Attic used the active and Doric the middle, not because Athenians were more assertive than Spartans, or anything like that. It was simply a random choice, that the dialects made in one mood of one verb, when they split apart.
Just like Greek, a few centuries later, replaced the middle ergazomai ‘work’ with the active douleuō ‘originally: to slave away’. No nuance there. Not in the long run: in the long run, nuance gets squashed and overrun by the shifts of language.
Lucky are those who settle down to a single period of language, that delve into its treasures, and that look upon its nuance and subtleties and paradigmatic contrasts as something more substantial, more rich, more verdant—than the cobwebs that Time knows them to be.
Don’t weep for historical linguists, though. We have our own entertainments. And sometimes, we pause to read the literature too, and let go of our cynicism.