So, how will he behave on his new book tour?
Joe Konopka was an anti-drug crusader. Terry Frazier was a bondage escort with a drug habit. Two months ago, their lives collided.
Subjected to the light of day, Sarah Palin doesn't look like a maverick at all.
Ronald Taylor is one of perhaps hundreds of innocent people Harris County has put in prison.
Sloppy U.S. government paperwork is putting the lives of asylum seekers at risk.
Another user, one going by only an IP address, leapt into battle and pointed out other concerns in the 2000 elections, especially vote caging and voter fraud concerns.
Again, Griot wasn't having it. "R .. A .. L ........ P .. H .. N .......... A .. D .. E .. E ... R," he wrote, posting a link to a YouTube video featuring the Mickey Mouse Club — complete with Annette Funicello.
I saw my opportunity. "So, Griot," I wrote, "is it safe to say that you put Ralph Nader and Mickey Mouse in the same club, then? I just want to make my article as accurate as possible."
The words "Griot Speaks" promptly appeared on my user talk page.
"That was a reference to the Ralph Nader Fan Club, a club whose name I mentioned to someone with whom I was exchanging messages," Griot quickly responded. "I wouldn't read much into it or take it personally."
Then he got right to the point. "Why all the interest in me? Why the five invitations to be in your article, four more than you offered anyone else? What's the dang deal?"
He also promptly pasted my messages into a section on his user talk page, titled "Mary Spicuzza Pitches Woo." It was later changed to "Mary Spicuzza Pitches Woo 7 Times!"
My messages didn't seem inflammatory or rude. The first one read, "My name is Mary Spicuzza and I'm a reporter with SF Weekly. I'm working on an article about Wikipedia and I'd love to speak with you. May I give you a call?"
Another: "Hi Griot. I'm still working on that article and would really like to get your perspective on Wikipedia — especially on how San Francisco is represented in the encyclopedia. I'm on deadline, so the sooner the better for me. Thanks for your time."
Alas, Griot seemed to have no interest in being interviewed in person or over the phone.
I decided I had to get a little more pushy: I let Griot know he or she had become the main focus of the article. Maybe that would bring him or her out into the open.
Shortly thereafter, the words "Why me?" appeared on my user talk page. Griot was unhappy with being the focus of a news story.
"If it matters to you, and I suspect it doesn't, it's not something I would wish for," Griot wrote. "But since my wishes are being ignored, I just have to ask: 'Why me?' Is it my elegant prose? Did my many fans — they throw flowers at my feet and sometimes fire off one-gun salutes in my honor (hope you mention that in your article) — steer you to me? Your aunt? [I think he meant my sister.] I make my living partly as a journalist and writer, so I know how these things work. I just hope you're fair even though you never interviewed me or asked for my permission to do this.
"Is that fair to someone you don't really know?" he continued. "I teach at City College. I don't dare give you my name or the name of my business. I've had people from Wikipedia send me videos of them firing guns in response to my edits on gun control issues. I have other less mortal reasons for being anonymous."
Okay, for those of you keeping score at home: Griot is a teacher at City College, a record-store owner, and a journalist and writer. This is one busy Wikipedian.
Still, Griot had a point. Wikipedia is a public forum, and seemingly every discussion about an entry or a user talk page is open for the world to see. But just because a Wiki-pedian makes edits on a public forum doesn't mean he or she wants to divulge information about his or her virtual or real-life identity.
A Wikipedian named BillyTFried had indeed sent a video of himself at a shooting range to Griot in the midst of an edit war. That fight was actually over a couple of sentences Fried had wanted to add to the Chris Daly entry about San Francisco's Proposition H, known as the "gun ban," a ballot item that won the support of voters but was eventually struck down in court. Fried actually struck me as a well-meaning and earnest editor — one of the few willing to use his real name (and even agreeing to meet in person) to talk about his devotion to Wikipedia.
Before I could respond to all of Griot's "Why me?" questions, another user — Blow of Light — had suggested that I was likely a "single-purpose account" and should be blocked. I didn't know what I'd done to offend Blow of Light, so I quickly went to his or her talk page to write a note. That's when I noticed how much we seemed to have in common: "Freedom of speech is a fundamental human right," Blow of Light had written. "I encourage Wikipedians who think the same thing to join me in this quiet small way to say to the world: Wikipedians stand with the right of individuals everywhere to report on the facts of the world in peace."


