Has the wind gone out of the AdminShip's sails?
Wikipedia Talk:Requests for adminship, once the most lively forum on the project with the exception of ANI, is becalmed. The babble of noise at peak times akin to the background din of a noisy Manchester pub on a Saturday night has dropped not just to a whisper, but to a stony silence. It's become an empty space. Walk through it and you'll make conspicuous footprints in the dust gathering on the floor. Your footfall echoes in the deserted room, "Is there anyone there?" you call halfheartedly before turning round and going back outside into the sunlight. In the street there is also little activity. A kid sits on a doorstep poking vandalism into K-Pop music bios through his cheap Chinese smartphone. A bunch of teenagers sit round their Samsungs seeing who can tag the most new pages in sixty seconds.
The whole place has the feel of a deserted Wild West film set. Across the almost traffic free road, you enter a half open door with a dilapidated sign hanging on one nail: Café Anna it announces in sun-faded coloured letters. Inside the pretty room with many colourful interactive pictures on the wall, there is a stuffed effigy of 'The Founder' in an armchair, but there is no busy bustle in this place either. There's a lady editing an article about a golf complex in Hainan. The article is almost as complete as the complex. She's looks startled when you enter – she obviously wasn't expecting anyone. "Yup, it's kinda quiet here," she says. "April's customers are down to a fifth of the usual month's average."
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You go out again, follow a sign pointing to 'Administration' hoping find a bit more action. A sound of music gets louder as you approach. Inside the office there's an elderly man idly picking out a Telemann Fantasia in funk on a piano. On a table is a sign that says 'For Adminship apply here'. The pianist lightly bangs a discordant cluster and drops the lid over the keys raising a cloud of dust. "Yup, it's kinda lonesome here. Not many enquiries. Ya wanna sign up?" he asks. "No, no," you hasten to reply "I'm one already". You go out and walk some more in this almost ghost town until you hear some loud tapping. Following the sound you come across a guy nailing a board to a telephone pole. It's list of names. "What's this?" you ask, "Lynchings?"
"Nope, desysopings" he replies.
"What did they do?"
"Nothing. It's what they didn't do"
"What didn't they do?"
"Edit. That's what they didn't do."
You make your way back to your car. Driving back towards civilisation you think to yourself: "Golly, there's enough in that creepy place for a Signpost article..."
Has the AdminShip finally run aground?