"Get Home Safe by Christy Hall
A young woman must get home by herself on Halloween with no cell phone battery and a group of gamergate trolls out to get her."
I'd actually like to see that movie. It'd be the SVU episode on steroids.
Our story starts with a strong, independent transexual womyn of color who stumbles out of a Halloween party drunk. As she sits on the front steps, she tweets about how the evil patriarchy doesn't pay her enough to afford a car and she needs her Patreon donors to chip in. But as she begins to walk home, a group of three trick or treaters dressed as Sargon of Akkad, Mundane Matt, and Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh recognize her. They approach her and say "Go home gamer girl. Hashtag Gamergate!"
"Leave me alone" she responds, slurring her words because she's drunk off her ass and can only hope these evil Goober Gapers don't gang rape her ravishing, three hundred pound body which looks like someone crammed cottage cheese into a garbage bag. "Everything within fifty feet of me is, like, a privilege checking zone so you need to get the fuck out now."
The three shitlord trick or treaters oblige and walk away because lol movies and our heroine thinks she's safe. But little does she realize they've all split up because they want to hunt her down and rape her. Meanwhile she thinks it's a good idea to take an Uber ride home however to her horror, she realizes she used up all her phone's battery power tweeting about the many death threats she receives every day for being a feminist. So with no phone and no ride, one feminist realizes she's in for the fight of her life.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_List_(survey)
"The Black List is an annual survey of the "most liked" motion picture screenplays not yet produced. It has been published every year since 2005 on the second Friday of December by Franklin Leonard, a development executive who subsequently worked at Universal Pictures[1] and Will Smith's Overbrook Entertainment.[2][3][4] The website states that these are not necessarily "the best" screenplays, but rather "the most liked", since it is based on a survey of studio and production companyexecutives"
number of them have been made into films such as The Social Network, Manchester by the Sea, American Sniper, John Wick and even shit like The True Memoirs of an International Assassin. When you look up which movies have been made from them it really makes you think that half of hollywood executive are retarded.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_List_(survey)
"The Black List is an annual survey of the "most liked" motion picture screenplays not yet produced. It has been published every year since 2005 on the second Friday of December by Franklin Leonard, a development executive who subsequently worked at Universal Pictures[1] and Will Smith's Overbrook Entertainment.[2][3][4] The website states that these are not necessarily "the best" screenplays, but rather "the most liked", since it is based on a survey of studio and production companyexecutives"
number of them have been made into films such as The Social Network, Manchester by the Sea, American Sniper, John Wick and even shit like The True Memoirs of an International Assassin. When you look up which movies have been made from them it really makes you think that half of hollywood executive are exceptional.
Yeah, The Black List has been around awhile, and generally has the most extreme ideas on it that aren't usually considered commercially viable. Some of them are unsung masterpieces that are off the beaten track, some of them are completely exceptional. The main theme is that the films aren't 'safe bets' in either direction, and suggests that executives can't tell between really good and really bad, just between expected and unexpected.
Yeah, The Black List has been around awhile, and generally has the most extreme ideas on it that aren't usually considered commercially viable. Some of them are unsung masterpieces that are off the beaten track, some of them are completely exceptional. The main theme is that the films aren't 'safe bets' in either direction, and suggests that executives can't tell between really good and really bad, just between expected and unexpected.
"Get Home Safe by Christy Hall
A young woman must get home by herself on Halloween with no cell phone battery and a group of gamergate trolls out to get her."
I'm not even sure how you respond to something like this, except by closing your browser and getting another cup of coffee. Which is what I did. IOW I guess if you're going to spout bullshit, go big or go home. Maybe this is more appropriate in the general SJW thread, but since the article cites GooberGrape, eh.
There are moments in life that change you. Some obvious, others subtle—influence only obvious in retrospect. But in my life, each radically shifted how I came to think, write, and report about games.
Playing The Awesome Adventures of Captain Spirit, I wasn’t thinking about how Dontnod evolved its interface design from Life Is Strange or how the sequel’s take on youth culture was different than the original’s melodrama. Instead, I was hung in paralysis over what my own life would be like if my wife passed away, and how I might fail as a single parent. In God of War, the revamped combat was only a brief reprieve from a constantly reminder of a complicated relationship with my father, things left unsaid after he passed, and how I want to avoid a similar fate with my daughter. InDead Cells, I—okay, in Dead Cells, I killed stuff, it felt good, and was a reminder that it’s fine if a game mostly connects mechanically.
There are moments in life that change you. Some obvious, others subtle—influence only obvious in retrospect. But in my life, each radically shifted how I came to think, write, and report about games. It’s impossible to look at my list for 2018 and not see their influence.
Growing up, here’s how I thought about games: Are they good? Are they bad? As someone who spent their days and nights buried in the pages of magazines likeElectronic Gaming Monthly and GamePro, my framework was Graphics, Sound, Gameplay, FunFactor, and Challenge—actual ratings in GamePro years back—and that remained true for a long time, even as I fancied it up with better rhetoric. Eventually, that changed. Sometimes this change was subtle enough it seemed to lack an origin story. Other times… trauma came knocking.
I joined Giant Bomb in April 2011 as news editor. Sometime in 2012, though, I was given another title: social justice warrior. Six years doesn’t seem like a long time, but it’s long enough I hardly remember most of the pieces I wrote during my four years there. Given how ingrained social justice and politics have become in my work, especially at Waypoint, I’ve often been asked when that shift occurred, and I’ve never had a particularly good answer. My go-to explanation has been Twitter, because it’s exposed me to people and viewpoints so different from anything I grew up with (which is true!). But as I did research, I realized that there was something a bit more specific that set me down this path.
One of the biggest stories I reported on in my first year at Giant Bomb was the gross shit said during a Capcom-sponsored livestream, where a player argued sexual harassment was “part” of fighting game culture. The comments on that piece got heated, mostly over fighting game fans being concerned this incident would come to overly define what their scene was about, but it doesn’t take a scientist to spot the undercurrent that would later crest as GamerGate.
[Even] if you look at these tweets, and roll your eyes at this latest flareup, take a deep breath, scroll through the hashtag, and try to imagine yourself in their place. The tweets are genuine, the stories are real, and it's not mindless complaining about how hard life is. As a male, the hardest part about this discussion is you really can't imagine yourself in their place, which is why I suspect these movements have, like clockwork, intensely negative responses. I can't profess to know what it is really like to be a female in the video game industry, and I'll never know, but I can do a better job of listening to those who are living it right now, and do my part to make it a better environment for them.
(One way you can tell this is 2012? The use of female vs. woman. In a follow-up piece, I said I “did not consider myself a feminist” but “know bullshit when I see it.” Oh, Patrick.Buddy.)
It’s true that “Twitter” is responsible for opening my eyes, but it was #1reasontobe that asked me to A) confront the poisonous elements in Giant Bomb’s rabid audience and B) direct my reporting towards confronting the problem. It’s in the months after the “social justice warrior” moniker stuck, I asked women in the gaming industry to comment on Dead Island Riptide’s sexually exploitative pre-order bonus, interviewed the developers of Shank about why it removed a cutscene with a rape threat, repeatedly wrote about Internet harassment (one about Fez II, another time aboutFlappy Bird), and highlighted the work of marginalized game developers like Zoe Quinn, Porpentine, and others on Giant Bomb’s big, influential platform.
My story about harassment in a Street Fighter tournament was an accident—it was just a story. These other pieces, though, were part of a larger mission to recognize there was a responsibility to use my own power and privilege to raise awareness and enact change. I suddenly saw games in a much larger context, and this permeated my writing and reporting.
Now, I can praise Spider-Man for how exhilarating it feels to swoop through the skyscrapers of New York, while pointing out how weird it is that Spider-Man puts unflinching faith in the cops. I can scream to the heavens after taking down Nergigante in Monster Hunter: World, while acknowledging it makes me uncomfortable to be hunting down enormous beasts for no reason. I can admire the stupefying attention to detail in Red Dead Redemption 2, while recognizing it was built on unfair and exploitative labor practices that require radical industry change. I doubt that’s something I would’ve done in 2012, but now it’s part of my DNA.
While only clear in retrospect, this was just one of three personally seismic changes.
I have this vivid memory from high school, while in my first real long term relationship. Though not a thumping diehard, she was religious, and was really, genuinely excited for Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. I grew up in a “religious” household more than areligious household, where we went to church on Christmas and Easter, a down payment of performative faith to stay out of Hell. And because I loved this girl—and it really was love—I wanted to take interest in her interests, so that meant buying a bible, skimming through the pages, questioning my own lack of faith, and trying the whole thing out like a pair of clothes.
I’d taken the whole endeavor seriously enough that when we sat down for Gibson’s flick some months later, I found myself weeping as Christ’s body was beaten and bloodied. It was a strange sensation precisely because this—cathartic sobbing— never happened for me. At the time, it seemed like an aberration, possibly a reaction to the theater full of people doing the same thing, but in retrospect, it was probably my body throwing up a red flag.
Yet today, I’m the person who watches a sappy commercial about dropping your off kid at school and it’s over. I think… I think I used to process sadness at a distance, a defense mechanism of sorts. Now, emotions hit me in the gut, shaking my body to its core, ripping at scabs and leaving fresh ones, the past’s way of saying “Hello.”
I’ve spent a lot of time wrestling with how these events are connected, often unable to specifically articulate what exactly happened, but knowing something did. It’s taken years to untangle. I know the puzzle pieces fit together, but the angles—it always feels like the angles are slightly off. But I don’t think it’s an accident my shift towards aggressively engaging with social justice in my work came at the same time my personal life hit its roughest patches.
What binds them, I think, is how each one chipped away at a coat of armor I’d been using my whole life to avoid emotional release, a way of preventing myself from being vulnerable. Being personally vulnerable is part of building empathy, and that’s really what my expanded work at Giant Bomb—and later Kotaku, and now at Waypoint—was about. “Social justice” was another word for showing empathy, and my reporting another avenue of expression.
Then, there’s the summer of 2012.
I don’t know how many calls I’d missed. 15? 30? 45? It might as well have been 100. Every few dials, there was a voicemail attached, and the voice on the other line sounded more and more frantic. That voice—that call—was my brother, trying to relay to me that, at first, my father had a heart attack. Soon after, he was on the way to the hospital. The doctors rushed in, but it was too late. Not long after, he was pronounced dead at 56. Life was now different.
“Call me back,” said every one of the voicemails, without additional detail, except new panic.
It’s that moment I’m channeling when I watch Kratos. He loves his son, but does not say it. His son probably knows it, but it’s not said out loud. I am not, so far as I can tell, an all-powerful being with a violent streak, but I still saw myself. I know that God of War—both as a series and distinctly in this game—treats women like shit, while going out of its way to find a redemption path for a character who doesn’t deserve one. I mentioned all of this in my review, and critic Dia Lacina expounded upon it wonderfully in a follow-up piece, but I nonetheless found myself taken in, if not blinded by, Kratos and Atreus’ relationship.
My father and I had a good relationship but it wasn’t especially warm—he just wasn’t that type of guy with anyone. He was a terrific father, always supporting my interests and passions. I’m only here because he took chances on my bullshit, even if he never quite understood what they were. When I was 13 years old and walked into my parents room to ask about attending E3 in Atlanta, most parents would have (should have?) blinked. My dad got on a plane, helped me figure out how to register online, and sat in on appointments with me. One year, when the website IGN was supposed to snag me an underage media badge—a thing they don’t even do anymore—he wandered into the E3 show floor, stumbled into the IGN booth, and wouldn’t leave until he found someone who could help me out.
(God, when my dad realized I was on podcasts, he asked me to load one during a family party, and had people sit around and listen for a few minutes. I immediately left the room.)
I hoped we’d find a way towards something different in the future, once he’d retired, become a grandfather, and we were less father/son and more like equals. We never got that chance, and I regret the things left unsaid. I do not want my daughter to assume she’s loved, and I want her to feel comfortable sharing her emotions. If she’s struggling, she shouldn’t have to climb a mountain to find peace, like Madeline in Celeste. I’ll hold her hand the entire time if she needs it, and if she feels the need to do it alone, I’ll be right behind her, in case she falls.
My father’s death constantly mingles with the birth of my daughter. The two events emotionally uncorked me in ways I was not prepared for, and am constantly learning from. Combined with my political, activist, and empathy-driven turn in reporting, the way I think about video games in 2018 is so different that it makes me want to replay old games and wonder what this version of Patrick, a better version of Patrick, would make of them. For a time, I worried my constant discussion of these events in my writing was a distraction, but in reality, it’s my strength. The lens through which I experience life is the same lens through which I experience video games, and to pretend otherwise would be entirely disingenuous.
Nobody at Waypoint was a Monster Hunter fan before Capcom dropped Monster Hunter: World at the start of this year, but for a feverish few weeks in January,everyone was hunting Anjanaths like our lives depended on it. January was a long time ago, but it didn’t take long for Austin, Natalie, and Patrick to remember how the long-running series finally clicked for them. We remember what worked—the nightmarish sense of scale, how weapons became critical to player identity, the deep satisfaction from connecting a well-timed hit—and what left us wanting—the endless grind, the unexplained systems, the uncomfortable colonization themes—and hoping Capcom finds way to address them in the game’s inevitable sequel.
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What is with these people and their strange obsession with Gawker? They broke the law and violated the financier Thiel's privacy as a gay man in - a then hostile to gays - business market. BAH!
I'm not even sure how you respond to something like this, except by closing your browser and getting another cup of coffee. Which is what I did. IOW I guess if you're going to spout bullshit, go big or go home. Maybe this is more appropriate in the general SJW thread, but since the article cites GooberGrape, eh.
But I don’t think it’s an accident my shift towards aggressively engaging with social justice in my work came at the same time my personal life hit its roughest patches.
And there it is... every single one of these idiots turn to social justice as if it were a religion, something to ease their burden and pain, something to make them seem bigger than they are and that they matter. This usually happens when your loved one dies - especially when you apparently ignored them - and you evaluate your life, yours having been absolutely useless to society. Yet you still turned to a digital hobby to find problems in to make yourself seem important.
Good job there. Fantastic priorities.
My father’s death constantly mingles with the birth of my daughter. The two events emotionally uncorked me in ways I was not prepared for, and am constantly learning from. Combined with my political, activist, and empathy-driven turn in reporting, the way I think about video games in 2018 is so different that it makes me want to replay old games and wonder what this version of Patrick, a better version of Patrick, would make of them. For a time, I worried my constant discussion of these events in my writing was a distraction, but in reality, it’s my strength. The lens through which I experience life is the same lens through which I experience video games, and to pretend otherwise would be entirely disingenuous.
No, it absolutely is a distraction and you are a disingenuous prick. So the irony is palpable. Most people turn to God and then find strength in the comfort of a merciful entity watching over them... of course this too can produce zealots. The problem is with social justice is that it demands zealotry these days. That's why you're constantly on the lookout. You're looking for sinners to shame and "save" or it's you on the chopping block. It absolutely is a distraction because you can't face the reality that your life was meaningless and I'm actually quite shocked that it wasn't your daughter that cured that problem. You still mingle your father's death with her birth for some reason, which makes me think you feel you aren't ready - who is on the first try? - and despite your bravado you feel unworthy. Which again, is fine, but the biggest thing is I don't think you grew up from any of these experiences. You're trying to act like you did, but that's just an act. No sane adult spends this inordinate amount of time on a goddamned children's toy looking for problems to solve. They play the game, give their opinion and move on. The best do so with the mindset of a child, funnily enough. You and yours, however, obsess.
I can't wait for your kid to grow up, go to school and then find out her dad is one of the most disrespected gaming "journalists". I want to be there when you show up to explain your job to the class. I really do, especially after the firefighter.
I can't wait for your kid to grow up, go to school and then find out her dad is one of the most disrespected gaming "journalists". I want to be there when you show up to explain your job to the class. I really do, especially after the firefighter.
I'm LOLing my ass off at Patrick "I whiteknighted for Zoe Quinn and I didn't even get a blowy" Klepek trying soooo hard to act like his work mattered, or that hearing about SF IV pro players trash talking was some sort of traumatic moment. Giant Bomb stopped being relevant after Ryan Davis died, Waypoint was never relevant, and Kotau is rotting on the vine like most of Gawker's other fetid offspring.
Got curious in Battlefield V, "controversy aside", and decided to see if it was worth the $30 it's on sale for. These motherfuckers have swarmed literally every website and reviewing metric surrounding the game screaming about "propaganda" this and "SJW that". I couldn't even find anything to tell me what any actual problems with the game were, just non-stop screaming about Reddit shit. For shits and giggles I actually went to the games Facebook profile, sure enough, same fucking thing.
Some of you have got to still be GamerGate sympathizers, can you explain to me how "revolting" against a game so publicly is supposed to make you look anything besides retarded? Like the motivation for doing it aside (someone in apparently EA dared the triggered gamers to do it? I guess?), was this supposed to make you look good and rally the troops, or was it more "weaponized autism" where it was supposed to just overwhelm the game and anything they said about it not to targeted gamers and make them rise up again? Even during the height of Good Gamergate, I'd never seen people just absolutely sperg the fuck out the way I see trying to just find the slightest bit of information about this videogame.
game itself ended up being not bad for $30, likely wouldn't have paid the full $60.
From what I've heard (haven't played it myself), in terms of wokeness, Battlefield V ended up being not as insufferable as its marketing made it out to be. But remember, that marketing prominently featured a woman with a steampunk-ish prosthetic arm on the front lines of World War II, in what is arguably supposed to be a game featuring an authentic depiction of the war, and EA people saying things along the lines of "if you don't like it, don't play it."
That it shipped with missing game modes and the like didn't help either, but that sort of shit is almost expected from AAA devs nowadays, sadly.
"Get Home Safe by Christy Hall
A young woman must get home by herself on Halloween with no cell phone battery and a group of gamergate trolls out to get her."
It's like Halloween except with Myers Twitter shitposters instead of Michael Myers, hassling her with cryptic injokes about ten bux and coming out as gay furry.
Some of you have got to still be GamerGate sympathizers, can you explain to me how "revolting" against a game so publicly is supposed to make you look anything besides exceptional?
I'm not sure if I would consider myself a Gamergate sympathizer whatever that means these days, but even from the outside this is fairly obvious.
Battlefield V is associated with a considerable amount of anti-consumer gaffes or pro-SJW signaling. Battlefield V is also a tremendous commercial failure. Making sure these two things are inexorably linked is to the benefit of those who oppose anti-consumer or pro-SJW practices.
So I wanted to take a look at the overall post-Gamergate landscape, specifically the pro-GG side, because I think it's getting kinda interesting again, but from a "Kiwis watching shit burn to the ground" angle.
For those of you who don't follow the ongoing IBS/Skeptic drama, a lot of historical pro-GG figures/lolcows are embroiled in what can only be described as a massive civil sperg war, there is a constant, neverending stream of idiotic operations and 5-hour long streams of shitflinging. Among the intellectual luminaries involved in this trashfire are:
Ethan Ralph.
Internet Aristocrat/Mister Metokur.
Ian Miles Cheong.
Sargon of Akkad.
Mundane Matt.
Mombot was also involved for a minute, when she got accused of helping IMC dox some IBS sperg.
In the meantime, KiA has been largely infested by loli-loving, culture warring idiots who parrot youtuber talking points, and is now largely divorced from its original self-professed mission of consumer-advocacy (lol).
Looking to the other side, Zoe and Anita only managed to increase the money in their wallets since GG began. And while Gawker may have died in the most hilarious manner possible, Kotaku is still alive, and most of the gaming journos have either stayed in place, switched assignments around, or landed in relatively ok gigs outside gaming journalism. It is also worth mentioning that over 2 years later, we are still getting one SJW gaming nontroversy after another, proving that devs really didn't change, it's just that each dev did what it wanted, while each side of GG connected the dots to fit whatever narrative they liked.
Meanwhile, idiots like Nora Reed and Jake Alley still screech in the wind, begging to get the attention again. Other SJW cows managed to lose their jobs.
The only actually useful things GG managed to get done was arguably breaking up the indie circlejerk boosting scams, and getting outlets to add a disclaimer on their affiliate links, other than that, it has not been utterly useless, but has ultimately disintegrated.
Matter of fact, both the pro and anti movements have largely disintegrated with zero actual difference in the gaming market. The only winners of GG were people like us, who sat there watching autists spazz out at each other, adding a whole host of lolcows in the process. .
Got curious in Battlefield V, "controversy aside", and decided to see if it was worth the $30 it's on sale for. These motherfuckers have swarmed literally every website and reviewing metric surrounding the game screaming about "propaganda" this and "SJW that". I couldn't even find anything to tell me what any actual problems with the game were, just non-stop screaming about Reddit shit. For shits and giggles I actually went to the games Facebook profile, sure enough, same fucking thing.
Some of you have got to still be GamerGate sympathizers, can you explain to me how "revolting" against a game so publicly is supposed to make you look anything besides exceptional? Like the motivation for doing it aside (someone in apparently EA dared the triggered gamers to do it? I guess?), was this supposed to make you look good and rally the troops, or was it more "weaponized autism" where it was supposed to just overwhelm the game and anything they said about it not to targeted gamers and make them rise up again? Even during the height of Good Gamergate, I'd never seen people just absolutely sperg the fuck out the way I see trying to just find the slightest bit of information about this videogame.
game itself ended up being not bad for $30, likely wouldn't have paid the full $60.
I don't really care much for the Battlefield franchise itself, but your other points are very apt imo.
In between autists screeching about dumb culture war shit, and the dev team/games journalists screeching in the opposite direction, the supposed consumer-advocacy angle of the movement has been firmly lost.
As someone who identified as pro-GG, I think its greatest victory was training a decent-sized group of people to be wary of the media. By exposing corroboration, dirty dealing, and straight-out lies in the games media, it's my hope that at least some people were able to connect the dots and see that that sort of thing is very likely to be occurring in other specialist or general media outlets as well, and we just can't recognize it as easily because instead of reporting on a hobby we spend hundreds or thousands of hours a year engaging with, they're reporting on war or economics or something else we're not nearly as familiar with.
Did GamerGate fix corruption in video games journalism or censorious interference in games? Sadly, no, and I'd still like to see a world without these things. But if they must exist, it's best for people to be aware and on the lookout for them, and to do so in other aspects of life as well. Thus, I disagree with those who say that GG was a complete failure.
But yes, you're right in that it's strange that so many of the pro-GG tentpoles would turn out to be such flame-outs. Throw Shoe in there too. Of those you listed, my least favorite is Ian Miles Cheonny-come-lately. Really do not like that guy and how he just attaches himself to things.
Hadn't really thought of that. Jeremy Hambly raises $100,000, starts a site, starts a YouTube channel ... and brings in Cheong as basically his second in command, or at any rate that's kind of what it looks like.
The whole thing is probably just an exercise in autism rolled out a decade too late, but in the unlikely event the thing takes off, Cheong is set to reap where others sowed, ain't he? And if it flops, Hambly will be the dude who's gonna take shit for it.
Dude, read the article, this is almost entirely a price negotiation thing:
Earlier this month, “more than two” suitors submitted offers in a second round of bidding that began late last month, insiders said. Nevertheless, Univision — which acquired Gizmodo in August 2016 when it scooped up the assets of bankrupted Gawker Media — is still casting around for better offers, according to a person with knowledge of the process.
“The process has been active, and it’s all going to boil down to price,” according to a source familiar with Univision’s thinking. “Univision is not interested in giving it up for nothing.”
Nevertheless, insiders say it could have a tough time getting the price it wants, even though Gizmodo brings in between $70 million and $80 million a year.
Someone will pick them up, gut them down to the core essentials and start anew. The journalists/editors who get fired will all go on to other outlets or start YouTube channels with Patreons.
EDIT: With that said, the article also mentions some of the money making properties like Gizmodo, The Onion and The Root (yes, I too have no idea how the Root makes money). And Kotaku is conspicuously absent from it.
As someone who identified as pro-GG, I think its greatest victory was training a decent-sized group of people to be wary of the media. By exposing corroboration, dirty dealing, and straight-out lies in the games media, it's my hope that at least some people were able to connect the dots and see that that sort of thing is very likely to be occurring in other specialist or general media outlets as well, and we just can't recognize it as easily because instead of reporting on a hobby we spend hundreds or thousands of hours a year engaging with, they're reporting on war or economics or something else we're not nearly as familiar with.
Did GamerGate fix corruption in video games journalism or censorious interference in games? Sadly, no, and I'd still like to see a world without these things. But if they must exist, it's best for people to be aware and on the lookout for them, and to do so in other aspects of life as well. Thus, I disagree with those who say that GG was a complete failure.
I know a lot of people feel like that was GG's doing, like all these "actual liberals" were suddenly awoken to the reality of left-wing news organizations.
But.
Conservatives have been saying that shit for years. Whether or not GG helped a younger crowd realize it soon could be argued, but it's weird watching all of these people who thought they were really changing the social landscape *cough cough Sargon Matt cough* act like they were huge players in this huge social shift. All they did was actually pay attention to what Conservatives had been saying for years.
I don't really understand what that document is listing, but some of the pitches sound like Fanfiction.net story summaries.
.
