I was flattering one of the mods, saying they were without peer; that they only removed few posts and when they did it was people who disagreed with me; and they were lucky to have such great powers. In response the mod offered to switch places with me for a day so that I could “experience this great power firsthand.” I eagerly accepted the mod’s proposal.

I sat on my computer chair and moderated the comm with a nicer mod-exclusive UI, access to the girls-only mod chat, and the service of grovelling users begging to not have their posts removed. But the mod, who has made many enemies during their modship, arranged that a naginata sword they bought me off Amazon Prime should hang above my computer chair, held at the mekugi-ana only by a single hair of a horse’s tail to evoke the sense of what it is like to be a mod: though having much censorious power, always having to watch in anxiety against dangers that might try to overtake them, whether it is a jealous admin or wrecker, a slanderous rumor, an enemy instance, a poor website decision, or anything else.

I finally begged the mod for permission to depart because I no longer wanted to be so fortunate, realizing that while I could have had everything I could ever want at my fingertips as a mod, it could not affect the dangers over my head.