See? I told you so.
I didn’t watch any of it. I painted minis instead. I’m going off of the discussions I saw on Facebook this morning.
I hung it up after 2015’s Celebration of Wooden Assholes and didn’t participate in 2016. I figured it would shake out like this, the elitist cliques would circle the wagons, send a message that outsiders can fuck off, and declare whatever happened a victory for “diversity”.
Funny. When I started Sad Puppies four years ago, the narrative was all about how the Hugos were a celebration of what was great, representing the best of all of fandom. I said nope, it is decided by cliques, ass kissing, and politics. They called me a liar. Fast forward to now, and at least they are open it is all politics. Hell, they’re celebrating it.
Just ask yourself this, what kind of scumbags would give No Award to Larry Elmore? This is a man who is one of the most prolific and popular fantasy artists of all time. His covers dominated the better part of a decade, a whole generation of writers grew up with his posters on their wall, yet, he never got nominated for a Hugo that entire time.
Larry Elmore wasn’t involved in any campaigns. When he found out that fans finally recognized him for a Hugo nomination he was surprised, honored, and humbled.
Moira Greyland exposed to the culture of rape and pedophilia in old fandom, and not the made up “rape culture” the modern feminists accuse anybody who disagrees with them of. It was a gut wrenching expose in a category normally won by fluff. But they wanted that swept under the rug.
Toni Weisskopf? No Award. But we already knew that was coming. Sure, she’s one of the most successful editors and publishers in the business, exactly the sort of “empowered woman” these liars claim we want to keep out.
And Jerry Pournelle… Living legend. You pieces of shit are honestly going to tell us that Jerry Pournelle is not award worthy?
Sure. Why not?
And to Neil Gaiman, boldly standing up to those pesky Puppies during his speech…
When you got your buddy Jonathan Ross to volunteer to MC the awards, it wasn’t those jerky Sad Puppies that formed an angry twitter mob because he *might* tell a fat joke. He got sacrificed on the altar of PC.
When you were getting yelled at for making light of Trigger Warnings, it wasn’t the Sad Puppies who were triggered.
And when some dilettante couch surfer was demanding that readers judge authors by the color of their skin rather than the content of their books, and holding up your book as the example for her finger shaking scolding, it was the Sad Puppies who said that was nonsense.
Now, I know you’re a multi-millionaire A-lister and your career is so awesome you can safely pat those yapping jackals on their tender heads and not lose a hand, but most authors aren’t in your lofty tower. When the angry mobs come for them, they’re fucked. Names get ruined, contracts get cancelled, and careers are derailed.
But instead of standing up to the Outrage of the Week crowd, you stood up against those jerky puppies. (by the way, Neil, there were two separate groups of Puppies with entirely different goals and methods, but I’m sure you knew that before you told them all to sod off). So way to go. You showed them.
So all this latest nonsense sure makes me glad I didn’t waste any time on the Hugos this year. What a joke.