Battle Hymn of the Vile Faceless Minions
I am not one of you. I do not want to be one of you. I don't want your attention, I don't want your awards, I don't want your respect, I don't want your pity, and I don't want anything to do with you. I have never wanted anything to do with you. In my opinion you are left-wing human wreckage whose worldview is outdated, irrational, nonsensical, and ignorant.
You are neither my intellectual nor moral superior. You are not even my intellectual peer. Your morality, to the extent it can be called that, is a parasitical parody of the real thing. I do not respect you, I do not value your opinion, I reject your values, and I deny your competence to judge me in any way.
I turned my back on your freakish community and everything it stood for as soon as I had the opportunity to see it clearly for myself at Minicon in 1997. I dutifully did my panels and never went to another SF convention or attended another SF-related event ever again. I don't associate with losers, child molesters, or creepy rape enthusiasts, and SF fandom consists of little else. I never submitted a short story to a science fiction magazine or submitted a novel to a science fiction publishing house because I didn't have any professional respect for most of the community's incompetent institutions.
All the SF community had to do was leave me alone and I would have left it alone. I did so, more or less, for 16 years. You didn't. For over ten years I was repeatedly attacked, unprovoked, by various members of your weird little community. I ignored most of their repeated jabs, their libels, their false accusations, their nasty insinuations, and their insults. Out of sheer contempt, I ignored most of their attempts to obtain my attention. But when John Scalzi, Patrick Nielsen Hayden, N.K. Jemisin, and Steven Gould, among others, made an attempt to publicly destroy my reputation, I decided I would not ignore it any longer.
So, you've got my attention now. And you should have known better to draw the contemptuous eye of the Supreme Dark Lord of the Evil Legion of Evil upon you. Because the Rabid Puppies, and the Dread Ilk, and the Ilk, and worst of all, my 391 Vile Faceless Minions, are coming for you. Not just this year, not just next year, but always and forever until you are gone. By all means, cry more about how much we hurt you; the VFM like nothing better than the taste of your tears.
The Sad Puppies want to fix what the SJWs have done to the detriment of science fiction over the last three decades. I respect that, although I think it makes more sense to demolish a building and build anew rather than attempt to shore up a termite-infested structure. But Rabid Puppies are not Sad Puppies. We want nothing more than to crush SJW bones, drink SJW blood, and leave a smoking hole where every SJW institution used to be.
|Don't worry, we VFMs are actively looking into fixing this particular shortcoming|