I am a reader. I read a lot. Most of what I read is sci-fi or fantasy. I also used to read comics. Comics were grand mythologies of good guys and bad guys, DC’s were heroic paragons and Marvel’s were tragic figure with feet of clay. That was cool.

Then at some point in the late 90’s, early 2000’s something changed. Suddenly there was too much “cheesecake” and we were excluding women, and Spoiler not having a costume in the Batcave was killing the industry. At around the same time, I started noticing that “Hugo award winning” didn’t always mean “Hugo award winning” anymore. Not all the time. And increasingly, less and less.

But it just mean I read less and less of comics, and started staying away from anything that had “Hugo award winning” on the cover. I still read. A lot. A lot a lot. I just don’t read anything that wins or was nominated for the Hugo’s.

Then a little while back I heard of Sad Puppies 2. I followed insty to Mr. Correia’s blog, I liked the cut of his fisk, and I bought a bunch of his books.

And they were awesome! (You have to picture me doing the Carlos Mencia dee-d-dee voice when saying that. That’s how I felt.)

I then started reading Hoyt, and Torgersen, and the Mad Genui’i? and a bunch of other stuff. And I really liked it.

And then last year, after sitting on the sidelines I read that dinosaur story. Yes that one. A cold rage swept over me. I decided to watch closer. This year, the slate that must not be named started freaking out days before the nominations were announced with really specific information.

And I kept asking myself “How in the name of Bellona’s supple thighs did they know that specifically that early”.

Only I already knew. We all do don’t we? Is it a coincidence that four major publications attacked the puppies using nearly identical accusations and language? Or that a senior editor of tor knew exactly how many of the puppy nominations for best novel had been nominated?

So now, Im pissed off, I’m motivated, and I reckon I can scrounge up 40 bucks somewhere. Hell I might have more than that in the old pay-pal.

You assholes and you puritanical, holier-than-thou, thought police, twitter mob, mentality have brought about a group of fans who doesn’t give a fuck about civility. You are less than the wind outside my cave, you are meat for the taking and the bleeding. The bloodmoon has risen and the dog-lords of Gotham have ichor on their jowl’s, while you preachy cunt-waffles have shit running down your haunches and urine soaking your crotch. Run. We like it when you run. All that fear just sweetens the meat.