Encounters / Justifier

This is an encounter for the editing game we're putting together. Visit this forum thread to join the fun.


Standing before you is some sort of... some sort of something, some one-eyed abomination from the great beyond, staring its disgusting myopic stare at you. It gazes at you balefully.


Tropedex says:

Justifier. The hollow rebuttal editor. The Justifier stalks the contributions of honest editors, constantly searching for claims that a trope applies to their favorite show. When such a mention is made they immediately leap to its "defense", corrupting the once-good contribution with reservations about how it "doesn't count" because using that trope was completely justified.''



Oh my God! Editors could become... could become like that? That's absurd! Editors are paragons of expertise, working tirelessly to embetter the wiki for the education and enjoyment of all! This is horrible! How could an editor turn out like that? Could... could you turn out like that?

The thing closes on to you, hissing its abhorrent hisses of "Actuuuuaaaallllyyy" and "Yourrrmilleeaaagemayvarrrryyyyy". This is bad. This is very bad. You remember all the techniques they taught you- responding, spoiler-tagging, deleting, rewriting, emphasis, understatement, hyperbole- but nothing prepared you for this.

What do you do?

  • You repair it.
  • You respond to it.
  • You delete it.

(You repair it)

You think back to all your repairing lessons and look for some point, some essential truth, that will enable you to transform this one-eyed monster into something valid. But the more you look at it the more its unsettling myopic eye drills at your soul, and too late you realize that even if there is such a truth there is no repairing it, that there's more to the great Tao of Trope than truth, and a truth invoked just to state some earthly trivial point of fan interest is not right, it cannot be right, the eye bores at you ever-so-deeply-

Your vision is starting to blur, your head to ache. Everything is so hazy... There is only the eye, there is nothing but the eye... And suddenly you see the light, and you realize that it is you who are the monster, you who dared believe in this false Tao of Trope when it is your duty as a fan of Avatar: The Last Airbender to make sure nobody ever says anything about it short of glowing praise. You are cured.

Everything fades to black.


(You respond to it)

You clearly recall the class when they taught you about that exotic weapon, the second bullet point. Very effective when employed skillfully, but very dangerous. When you have something truly appropriate to say, when integrating it into what was previously said is impossible, when the whole of the conversation is greater than the sum of its parts, when your comment is definitely the end of the discussion- then is the time to whip it out, and you feel that time is now. You summon your last ounce of strength to throw the second bullet point at it.

  • You're WRONG! This trope does aply to that show! You're just rationalizing! You, you...

And immediately you realize you have done something horrible. Of course that's not the end of the discussion. How could it possibly be?

The justifier stands there- you can swear you can see a smug smirk on its eye- and gives this obnoxious hiss, "buuutagaaaiiiin,youstiiilllfaillledtoconsiiiiderrr...."

And you know that you are doomed. For you have chosen response, and this thing can too respond, and you will be locked in an ever-lasting cycle of responses and counter-responses, bullet points flung back and forth. Soon the page is flooded with your incessant bantering and explodes spectacularly, and you can do nothing but watch, trapped in the never-ending discussion.




(You delete it)

They've told you time and again: There must be zero tolerance for this sort of abomination, this advocacy, this corruption of the Tao of Trope to praise some work, to speak ill of some work. For carrying of the name of Trope in vain. You concentrate deeply in search of an incantation powerful enough to delete it and when you see it you know it is the right one, and you speak it.

"Tropes Are Not Bad," you bark at it, mad at being woken up, vexed by its sudden attack. "Tropes Are Tools."

The effect is not immediate. It takes a while for it to sink in, the inevitable truth that a trope applies to a work or it does not apply, and it has nothing to do with how popular it is or how good it is, and if it does apply it does apply and that is it and it is folly to rant about how technically there are these reservations or others. But it does sink in, and the myopic eye widens and screams silently and suddenly there is an explosion of white light, and...

Nothing. As quickly as it came, it is now gone. It is as if it was never there, except for the blasted door lying on the floor. No, wait. There is something there, some shimmering tiny little glowing thing...

It's a grain of truth. Fortunately you still have sights on what is right and what isn't on the Justifier's saying; otherwise you will lose a possibly important information.

They showed you one of these rare things during one of the early lessons and told you to watch out for them; if it weren't for that, perhaps you wouldn't have seen it at all. Huh, it turns out that there was a little bit of a point to the Justifier's wailing, after all.

It's your call what to do with it. Maybe you'll seamlessly integrate it into the original edit, so it'll still share all the information without arguing with itself. Maybe you'll discard it, because while true, it is not compelling or relevant enough. Maybe you'll even decide to delete the original edit if the point is strong enough. Whatever you decide to do, peace has been restored and the Justifier's wailing can be heard no more.