Mars Is

My Last Hugo Post


I recently posted this over at Glyer’s site, but (predictably) he decided not to allow it to be published (his place his rules). This is the last thing I have to say about the Hugo Awards.



What I find most interesting is that not only did the rabid puppies increase their performance this year, the sad puppies had far less influence. And I believe I know why, if my own experiences are anything to judge by. You see last year I was on the side of the sad’s. I read through the recommendations, and then I voted for what I thought was best (just like every other sad puppy I know, despite what you folks have been claiming for over a year). I did so because I thought the crap you folks were nominating and awarding was exactly that. And yes I am referring to “if you were a dinosaur my love” along with the idiotic “The day the world turned upside down” and the moronic “the water that falls on you from nowhere” I did so because I remember the days when the hugo’s were a solid mark of quality. I had wanted to try and help those days return. I, like virtually every other sad puppy I have spoken to, wanted to improve the Hugo’s. Then one fine morning I tuned in to watch the awards ceremony.

This year? I voted Vox’s slate straight down the line, and I will do so next year, the year after that, and every year until your little club is burned to the ground and/or such a laughing stock that even you folks are too embarrassed to be associated with it. You people, with your little wooden assholes convinced me that neither the Hugo’s nor the enraged land whales who are its members are worth saving. I even convinced two of my friends, (one who doesn’t even like Sci-fi or Fantasy) to vote Vox’s slate as well.

You had a chance to open up worldcon and to accept some new blood but you wanted to make it nasty.
OK you corpulent, smug, preening ponces. You wanted it to get nasty? You got it.

This is one puppy who didn’t have to go rabid,. didn’t want to go rabid, and was forced by you to become rabid, and I doubt Im alone. You wanna know where all the support the sads had last year went? It went straight to VD. And each and every one of you over-fed over the hill fart sniffing Fen are the ones who sent us there. Congrats


This is the last, and only statement I will make about the Hugo Awards. I don’t care what the Fen think, I don’t care what fans think. I don’t even care what other puppies may think. Fuck the Hugo’s, fuck the Fen, fuck David Gerrold, fuck Mike Glyer, fuck George R.R. Martin and fuck anyone else who is a worldcon truefan.  I will take advantage of every opportunity I can find to discredit, destroy, and troll this years worldcon, and every worldcon hereafter until your paltry little arena is too small and insignificant for your morbidly obese mega asses to fit through the door. In years to come I will pay for supporting memberships for people who will vote for whatever slate I think will cause the most damage. I will relentlessly cooperate in slates, ballot stuffing and every other tactic you falsely accused the sad puppies of using last year. And I fucking guarantee you worthless wastes of human sperm that I am not the only one.