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(somebody wrote something not dealing with this page topic before in here)

Typically when someone wants to do or change something big at Noisebridge, they bring it up at a meeting and it goes through our Consensus Process. Most of the time many of us just don't want to be troubled with spending a week figuring out if everyone is ok with a small or mundane thing, and so there's Do-ocracy. Do-ocracy tends to work just as long as our only rule is followed, to be excellent to each other.

Do-ocracy: If you want something done, do it, but remember to be excellent to each other when doing so.

An important part of being excellent is documenting your change. Write a note on Noisebridge's ChangeLog, or leave a note on what you do-ocratically did. Contact numbers are especially important if you want people to contact you about the change. The biggest challenge in a do-acracy is not reversal, but ascertaining (and taking) responsibility.

Use Cases

The Short Version

  1. Dick asks around if anyone would feel negative about the bike shed being pink. No one does.
  2. Dick paints the bike shed pink.

The Being Excellent To Each Other Version

  1. Dick paints the bike shed pink.
  2. Jane becomes unhappy about the fact that the bike shed she helped build is now pink.
  3. Jane politely engages Dick in discussion about why he thought this was ok. Dick realized that other people he shares the space with have feelings too.
  4. Jane and Dick decide to repaint the bike shed blue.


  • Do-ocracy works most of the time. When it doesn't, it sort of sucks.
  • Write a note (with your name or nym) saying what you did.
  • If someone nicely asks you to change something back, be nice back and just change it back.
  • If someone's being a dick to you about something you've changed, be nice and just change it back. If you must cry about it only do so after you've restored things.
  • When Do-Ocracy means Consent.
  • "Jeez, and now your cock's like... six feet long," said Kevin. "I wonder how big you'd get if you used the whole bottle..."

"I'm not eager to find out," Mahmout huffed, crossing his arms. The motion almost knocked his dick over onto the desk again, but he caught it just in time. "Do you think-" Kevin started to ask, but was cut off by the door opening. Diane walked in with Terry close behind, the eleven inch tube of his cock haphazardly stuffed down one pant leg as he staggered across the threshold into the room. "You guys done doing the dirty?" asked Kevin. "No fear," Diane winked. "Now let's measure this beast!" With a great deal of difficulty, Terry was able to coax his tremendous tallywhacker to life once more. It stiffened slowly, and ultimately he had to press his thumb onto the base of the shaft to get it to stand fully hard. Even still it was an impressive sight (or would have been, if it hadn't literally been in the shadow of Mahmout's mountainous monster). Diane stretched out the tape and examined it closely while Kevin hovered over her shoulder. "Sixteen inches and change," Diane announced. "Satisfied?" Mahmout tried to scoot himself closer, pushing himself up on his hands to see the ruler, but the weight of his oversize cock was too much. "Is she telling the truth?" he asked, giving up and looking at Kevin. "Yeah, dude. It's definitely gotten smaller. Wild..." answered Kevin. Mahmout hemmed and hawed, but ultimately he couldn't think of anything else he could try. He'd been hard for almost seven hours now and even his cream-enhanced muscles were aching with the effort of holding his beast aloft. The carpet was chafing the bottom of his beanbag-chair sized testicles and, he had to admit; he was seriously horny... "Alright, fine," Mahmout relented. "Diane can jerk me off." "Yay!" Diane threw up her hands, beckoning for high fives. Terry and Kevin left her hanging, so she satisfied herself by high fiving the tip of Mahmout's gargantuan cock, hitting it with a resounding slap that left a red palm print in the gleaming, chocolate brown flesh on the side of his pumpkin-sized cockhead. "Ow!" Mahmout yelped, shooting her a dirty look. Diane gave a sheepish grin. "Alrighty then," she said, straightening up and sticking out the twin melons of her chest. "Terry, Kevin, put on some rubber gloves and lets lotion up these puppies!" Diane grinned and fondled her beasts through her shirt, giving each monumental mammary a hearty squeeze.

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