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Luneth Uchiha added a comment on a blog entry 120+ Query Letters
Yeah, I'm aware that it's not easy to get picked up and that it's going to take a while. My biggest frustration right now is finding agents I can submit to. Most websites set up for writers just list off the same people over and over making this just become a big scavenger hunt.
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Necropolis added a comment on a blog entry 120+ Query Letters
I was in a thread once where a fledgling writer with two books published talked about the process. Mentioned that it took two years for the first one to be published, and that it was much harder than writing the book. That might not necessarily happen to you, but that's just perspective.
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Luneth Uchiha added a blog entry in Luneth's Blog about a book he wrote
120+ Query LettersSo, to kind of give an idea of what I have to do I will summarize a few things. A query is generally the term used when you send an inquiry via email or snailmail to an agent in hopes of representing your book. These can consist of several different things based on the requirements of the agent in question. Most will include the following:
-Query Letter
A query letter is usually a one page long summary of what's going on with you and your novel. It's formatted so the first part is the one line hooker you would find on the back of a book, a paragraph summary like on the back of a book, a very brief bio of yourself, and contact information.
-One to Two page summary of plot
Self explanatory. This is a one or two page summary of your book, omitting no spoilers, so that they can have an idea of what your entire story is. This one isn't as common a requirement.
-A sample.
Each agent requires different lengths. Most will ask you to send the first ten pages of your document while some will ask for three pages and I've even had some ask for the first fifty pages. They will never have you send out your full novel without requesting it because they are interested.
Most times I will have to edit the query letter depending on the agent. So each inquiry usually takes something about ten to twenty minutes once I find their site. I had a website that gave off a little over a hundred names, but after time about a fourth were not able to be submitted to anymore due to leaving or being full. So since I started submitting in april I have sent at least one hundred letters. I understand the process is long and hard, even JK rowling had hundreds upon hundreds of query letters she had to send out for harry potter but it's kind of frustrating when I don't know how to really find more agents. Not to mention I have been told several times that my work is promising but they don't want to deal with any unpublished authors because of the high risk. Currently I'm just sitting on writers digest and whenever they post about a new agent I will submit to them(assuming they deal with fantasy). This is slow though since only one comes up about every week. It's kind of frustrating, but oh well. I just keep pushing onward.
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Necropolis added a comment on a blog entry The crap I write
Thanks man. I won't
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ZuZu added a comment on a blog entry The crap I write
Never stop writing
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Necropolis added a comment on a blog entry About what the crap is going on in this.
That's really cool man. You were able to actually just write a book.I always shelve ideas before they get that big, that's really cool.
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Luneth Uchiha added a blog entry in Luneth's Blog about a book he wrote
About what the crap is going on in this.I had a dream. Long ago I dreamed of making a video game. Many of you remember if you were around when Pokefan and I tried making a few games. In 2008 we started a conjoined project called "Project Tundra" which fell through. After the frustrations and realization I have no talent at games I gave up making games directly, but often day dreamed of stories for games. In 2010 I was often criticized by my language arts teacher that I had no talent in writing and had poor understanding of the english language. One day while stuck in study hall I got bored and decided to try writing out a story to practice. I decided I sucked and gave up.
A bit later that year I picked it up again and tried writing it out on my computer. The story in question was a modified version of one of my stories I had day dreamed up in school instead of paying attention and several of my ideas from the scrapped project tundra. After showing an early version to one of my friends he said it was all confusing and I again gave up. In about February of 2011 I was again bored the crap out of my mind in a study hall and decided to give it one last try. I started writing out the story as well as other guide line scripts to help the story flow and thus my project was born. Having two friends reading it to make sure things moved along fine as well as constantly having pokefan help me to make sure things were fine in terms of story and writing I managed by late spring to get going on a fairly decent script. I worked hard on it as I waited for skyward sword. I would spend about 4 hours a day writing with two hours of just planning and working on a general script of events to follow.
Finally in November 2011, I finished my first manuscript of my book. Unsure of what to do with it I pretty much sat on it and worked on the sequel until I could figure out what to do. After a while I went back and rewrote huge chunks of the manuscript until I came up with what I have today. Now I have an idea of what to do and I am currently writing several agents a day with query letters hoping someone is dumb optimistic enough to pick it up.
So what is my book? Allow me to introduce it to you all. Ceatera is an urban fantasy book set in a world of magic, demons, technology, and I really don't know how else to describe it easily. The general setting of modern fantasy was drawn by Final Fantasy VII, but quite frankly it has taken many, many sources to inspire my works. The current first book is about 140,000 words long, with the second book being halfway done. I am so tired I don't know what else to put, so here is the 'catcher' one paragraph thing on the back of books I was supposed to write for one agent. Understand I can't talk too much about Ceatera in terms of plot and details until some point in the future.
Meir Lorne is a mercenary working for the Desrua Guild in the city of Ceatera, genetically altered to be stronger, faster, and superior than others. Tensions rise fast when entire cities disappear and prisons become overrun. Facing down a war that could bring down an entire country, ancient wizards and demons with grudges of their own, and even other guilds of his comrades Meir must make decisions and experience things that boggle the imagination
Also in the somehow chance this book publishes and takes off well, I will laugh and laugh, probably puke from anxiety since I hate being the center of attention, and laugh.
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Agent Zako added a comment on a blog entry Baba
Practical joke witches are the worst. They never catch on when a joke stops being funny.
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Teto added a comment on a blog entry My dreams were filled with wonders
I had never even heard of Rip Van Winkle until now. Really similar though, looking it up.
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Necropolis added a blog entry in A skeleton in your closet
BabaI like this little writing thing. Lemme know what you think, its nice to put these things somewhere, even nicer to talk about them.
We walked alongside the shore. Which shore I could not tell you, nor what waters went up and down in rhythmic motion along it. Each of us was young, younger than I am now at least. 12 or 13, just at the age where the world is changing for you but while your still powerless to do anything about it. There were probably 10 of us, and each one of us in the procession carried a large hiking bag. Naturally I was at the front.
Leading our little group was a woman of about 55. Her face was long and there was something wicked about it. As I think about it now she was familiar. She was every teacher who ever found fun in cruelty to her students. Every crooked nosed, wicked librarian who takes a certain glee in SHUSHING those that visited her. Every witch who, perched in her legged home, threw spite through crooked teeth like acid. I knew that she was nothing less than pure evil, and that whatever her designs for us followed suit. I knew all this, and I suspect my compatriots did also, and yet we all followed her with nary the complaint.
She commanded us without speaking to drop our packs as we walked, and we did, every one of us in the same place. Then a short while later, she told us all to sit. And we did. Every one of us were sitting with our legs crossed as she had them, and she spoke.
“Close your eyes children. We’re going to tell scary stories.” She said.
“This is the story of The Black Mansion, and Judgement day” she said. My eyes were closed, but I knew somehow that she was looking at me. She poked me in the stomach. “Have you heard that one?” She poked me again, harder “Huh?” She poked me again and again, each time it was harder, and it was punctuated by a “Huh?”
A slow horror dawned on me. The pokes were starting to hurt, and I knew somehow that it would only stop when I opened my eyes. I also knew that when I opened my eyes, there would be something horrible to greet me. But despite this, I couldn’t stop myself. Trying as hard as I could to keep them shut my eyes slowly, painstakingly opened
The woman, eyes wide open staring with evil glee sat 15 feet away from me, the waves lapping around her.
And then I woke up. That was this morning. Its strange how much fear this dream provoked in me while it was going, when nothing to terribly frightening happened until the end, and the bit at the end was more subtle than nightmares tend to be.
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Necropolis added a comment on a blog entry My dreams were filled with wonders
Rip Van Winkle, Secret Origin. I like it.
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Teto added a blog entry in Teto's Blog. Blogto.
My dreams were filled with wondersI've been wanting to start writing stuff, seriously or not, and Necro is inspiring me to just write stuff and blog it. Here's the first part of a mostly unplanned story. The first line will do as a working title.
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My dreams were filled with wonders. It was as if, in sleep, I entered a world running parallel to my own. The responsibilities were more demanding, the toil less satisfying, but my life I lived in dreams was far richer than the reality. My waking hours I spent wondering what was happening on the other side. There were roads that stretched for miles, like fingers knotted together, holding in its palm the world it connected. The forests there were old; a great history of nature rooted toward the centre of the earth that we all shared. People took on more variety, embodying aspects of nature I thought only a shadow image never seen in full light, opposing my views of how people should be. New dimensions, new colour, new life.
I spent more time asleep than ever before. Some days I would spend a mere hour out of doors before escaping back to the dream, and before I became aware of it, I was spending whole days in bed. Days then turned to weeks, until I stopped taking note of my absence, and resigned myself to escapism.
If my own world had been that much wider, perhaps I wouldn't have let it fall apart.
An indeterminate length of time passed. My world pulsed back into view along with a low thumping on the door to my house. “Come out!” a voice called, “You've been holed up far too long! Everybody’s worried, and we need to know you’re okay!” The voice was frantic. Frantic? Fear and anxiety were never prevalent here before. It’s part of what made reality that bit more boring; that it lacked these features of human nature.
I pushed myself out of bed in interest. I shambled down the stairs, a little disoriented from the shock of waking life. Peeking out the window, I saw naught but the ocean, and silence in between. The lawn and path were overgrown with tall reaching grasses and weeds, bent by the ocean breeze such that they seemed to reach toward my house.
I pushed out the door, and a cold smoky air washed over me, sucked into my front room as if keen to escape inside. The air settled until it was unnervingly still. I’d never felt so uncomfortable stepping outside of my home. The world was quiet around me, but a sense lingered that I wasn't alone. The air in all its eerie stillness buzzed with a latent energy, ready to burst out.
But it didn't. Nobody was there. In all my tiredness it hadn't registered who it was that called me, and now nobody stood in front of my house to answer the question. Still I felt tense, as familiarity met with a new unwelcoming atmosphere, putting me at unease. There was definitely something wrong, in a world that had always been right before.
I struck out to fix my mind, wading through the heavy overgrowth, long left out of check by myself and, as it appeared, everybody else. It seemed the thick grasses covered everything, and the once youthful trees seemed greyer, older, though not too much time should have passed. How long can someone possibly sleep?
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Necropolis added a blog entry in A skeleton in your closet
The crap I writeI've been thinking about posting some of the stuff I write. Heres a thing, more or less unedited. All feedback welcome
A storm of dead leaves and sticks shot up, illuminated by the fitful gleam of a flashlight. Legs, tired from nearly an hour of this frantic chase still fired like pistons carrying Eric Grier through a dead forest. What was chasing him he could not see, but most definitely could hear, and smell, the awful stench of sulphur filled his nostrils threatening to send him into a coughing fit at any moment. But that would be death. Eric did not intend to die. Being a lifelong runner, and one of the most enthusiastic cross country athletes at his school had certain benefits. All the same, every moment he could feel whatever was behind him gaining, could hear the beat of its hooves against the damp, matted leaf floor of the woods.
A scratching sound, that he would decide later to be a horrible laugh or chortle nipped at his heels. He looked at his watch, glow in the dark, raising his flashlight, and then immediately realized the folly of this. Without his main source of light, the detritus of the forest took its toll at last on Eric’s progress. A vine, a stick, it didn’t really matter what it was. What did matter was his footing slipped and his long run came to an abrupt halt, sending him tumbling, tumbling down. His flashlight left his hand and rolled a few feet away from him. Luckily, or in the current case, unluckily, the light granted him illumination of the thing that pursued him. He crawled backwards, sprawled out on his back, never letting his eyes wander from the slowly approaching...thing that had finally caught up.
From the light he could see its legs, a goats, and as they went up the fur was replaced by flesh, and towards its belly it looked all the more human. It sauntered, clearly enjoying the thick radiation of fear from Eric, and its hands, each finger tipped with razor sharp talons dripping the blood of a fresh kill popped one at a time. Eric understood then that each sickening snap was the sound of his life ticking away.
And then there was a beeping. At first Eric did not register it, didn’t even really hear it. as the beeps became more frequent he understood what it was. The victory bell. He looked at the creature, flexing the legs of its muscles to pounce, and with disgust spat at it.
Then, a storm of things all happened at once. The creature sprung forward, a rictus grin on its bizarre hybrid features, and the screaming tones of “Thriller” blared from Eric’s pocket. Eric’s eyes shut in abject terror hoping he made his deadline. It wasn’t until Vincent Price began guffawing that he realized the loud thump thump he heard was actually his heart, threatening to crash through his ribcage. He reached his hand to his chest and took a deep breath and felt in his grasp, a card.
Eric grabbed his phone from his pocket and, noting the missed call, used the backlight to look at the card. It was one of the Tarot, it read The Devil, but the picture on the card was strange. It showed a man, wearing the skin of an animal, half his body reflecting that animal, and half a twisted caricature of a man. It was the very image of the thing that pursued him, and even looking at it made him shudder.
His phone rang again. Breathing heavily still, he answered, “Yeah….Its uh, its done. I made it. It was a skinwalker. Guess it makes sense given the card. You..wait what? Oh christ. Okay. I’ll be right over.”
Eric was not the only one who ran for his life that night, just the only one who got away.
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Steam.Core added a comment on a blog entry The beginning
thank you i also have pictures in my New OoT texture pack forum
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Sahaqiel added a comment on a blog entry The beginning
Sounds good. Welcome to the forum, keep up the great work!
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Teto added a blog entry in Teto's Blog. Blogto.
I'm in PolandIt's going okay. When I was about 13 or 14 years old we met a Polish couple who lived in Scotland for work. They were expecting their first child and they lived in a small flat in the nearest town. We met them through my brother, who worked at a hotel with the soon-to-be mother. My parents were fast friends with them; and remained friends as they raised their first boy, and then their second child, a girl. We've known them for 7 years. When their first child was 6 and their second child was about 3, they decided to move back to Poland. They stayed with us for two weeks while they readied themselves for the journey back home.
That was last year. This year I and my parents have come to visit them, in their two-room house in the country 3 hours south-ish of Warsaw. The first two thunderstorms of the year occurred on the first two days we were here. The time at the house I've spent reading or talking to the older 7 year old boy, who is insistent on playing LEGO, and built me an army for which he hasn't stated a purpose. He just likes putting together different people I suppose.
Back at home in the UK, bigots complain about the Polish taking their jobs, while scratching their asses and playing candy crush. In Poland the economy is such that it's four times more difficult to pay for anything, and if that was the case where I lived, I'd give a go at making money abroad as well, even if it did mean moving to a country where I didn't speak the language and couldn't locate a pharmacy.
However, despite the economic troubles, it doesn't appear to be as poor as it is. Driving through the countryside the roads are lined with new-looking houses of eclectic variety. Houses of varying colour and size sitting comfortably next to one another. This old two-room house doesn't seem so out of place across from a large two-storey house built orange and white with balconies and elaborate iron fence. Each house is different, and so none are out of place.
The thing is, in Scotland we have a wealth of council housing estates. Large areas occupied by identical houses attached to one another to fit as many people as humanly possible. Grey houses with grey roofs with small corner shops dispersed throughout to keep people from starving to death or running out of cigarettes. Whereas in Poland it's all private property, which has it's downfalls too, despite how much more interesting it is to look at.
The family we stay with have two children, and they don't expect to have any more. There is some kind of population problem in Poland, and the government insists on families having more children without actively encouraging them. Financial assistance for families raising children can be about the equivalent of £50 a month, and that doesn't make much difference for the raising of a child. People just can't justify many children.
There's a heavy religious presence here, and shrines for prayer are built what seems like every mile or so through small villages along single-track roads in the country. I can see one from the house. Abortion isn't legal here, yet when we stopped at a gas station on the way from the airport, I noticed they sell condoms at the counter where in Scotland they would probably have chewing gum or chocolate.
The countryside is mostly forest, with wild berries and such like. There are plenty flies and mosquitos, but nothing worse that I've encountered yet. Curiously, the mosquitos don't even bite me. Plenty days out without any kind of repellent and I'm unscathed while others swell up from minor allergies and scratch legs dotted with bite marks. Maybe I'm too sweet.
The family we're staying with keep chickens, ducks, a dog, and two alpacas. Alpacas are pretty gentle creatures that shy away from most contact with people or other animals, besides each other. They don't spit like llamas or camels are said to. They're incredibly gentle, timid animals. Good to have around.
Over the past couple days before now, the chickens' eggs have been hatching. So far there are three chicks hatched, and they're being kept in a box in the house where they're being fed, to save the mother the dilemma of whether to feed her chicks or keep warming her eggs. They were quite alright in their shallow cardboard box for the first few days, but the largest one with black feathers took to hopping up and out of the box. Thanks to him, all of them have been put in stricter confinement to keep them from running off. If a chicken can jump twice it's height at 3 days old, I shudder to think what incredible power a chicken of 100 years would possess.
Out here in the country most people make their own food and fields are divided into strips for individual people. People sell berries and local produce out of wooden boxes, sitting in overtaking lanes on the main road. For all the talk of crops without pesticides and chemical enhancers, it all tastes about the same, including the meat. Some things are the same though, like the presence of Tesco and Lidl stores. Lidl is much the same here as anywhere else; cheap, cold, uninviting. If the signage wasn't in another language, I wouldn't know the difference from Lidl in Scotland.
On the first day, before the thunder started, we escaped out for a drive around the nearby countryside with the kids, to escape the neighbour who didn't warn that he was planning to kill a pig very noisily that day. Besides that, nothing particularly shocking has happened, though I wouldn't call the pig slaughter particularly shocking either, unless you're 7 years old. We relaxed a few days and lost track of time, as you should when you're on holiday. It could be 2pm or 6pm and it would make no difference to how we spent the day.
So far we've visited Warsaw, Radom, and a small town dedicated to art galleries and medieval-themed touristry. We went for the art galleries. Warsaw was a nice enough city. We visited the Copernicus Science Centre, which was so much better than any science event or centre I've ever been to before, full of interactive exhibits. If only it was in Scotland so I could visit it again. Radom was just a smaller city, barely a city when compared with Warsaw or Krakow, but it was nice to visit and walk around in. We met the family of our friends there, and while I kept quiet and didn't make myself much for conversation, I memorised all the names I could. There were a lot of them, and most of them knew a little English to either understand or speak it.
Interestingly, when going over the many names of the family, I noticed that all the women had names ending in the letter A. Dominica, Veronika, Victoria, Asha, Basha, Anna, Paulina, Maya. I brought up the observation to Veronika; the one we met in Scotland all those years ago, and she told us that this was in fact a general rule. I'm not sure if it's heavily enforced, but she also told us that, when they have children, they must chose names from within a range of generally accepted names, You couldn't just pick up any old noun like Raindrop or Helicopter and give it to your child. I'm not sure how great a custom this is, but it's interesting. I can't imagine it being any real problem. There is no such naming rule for men as there is with the A ending of womens' names, unless perhaps mens' names never end in A, but I've never asked about that.
The 7 year old boy, Macek, who periodically pursues my attention, is a nice sort. As he grew to the age of 6 in Scotland, he learned English as well as any Scottish child might have. He lost some of it over the year living back in Poland, but he can still communicate with me well enough, and served as translator briefly when I met his friends from the village. One, a stocky lad who stood grinning with a large snail he found, proudly told me in full English "My name is David!", though I'm sure that's all he knew, and he had to ask Macek how to say it first. The second was Kuba, crouching and quietly watching as he was introduced, his left arm in a sling from some accident. I didn't ask about it. The more time I spent with Macek, the less English I spoke out loud. I found my internal monologue changing to the same subtly fragmented English spoken around me by our Polish friends. Of course they spoke it well, but there were some grammatical slips which, while noticeable, were hardly noteworthy.
There's plenty to be learned from the conversations of others. On long drives between destinations I've learned plenty about Poland and the people here. Most of what I've learned and presented here was gleaned from the discussions had by my mother and Veronika. With all that Veronika chats and translates, you'd think she spoke the most English out of the two of us, as I stand in the background smiling sympathetically at everybody and everything, pretending I'm not foreign.
Despite all the romantic hopes and dreams I have for my future self, on this holiday I find a reminder of my lack of confidence. I worry terribly about how to communicate with people in shops or on the street, and instead take a back seat while others guide the tour of my day. Though it's not so bad and powerless as that.
I'm sure there are other observations and whatnot I could bring up, but this is all there is for now. It's another week until I arrive home on the 28th, in the comfort of a country which shares my language. I'm killing flies in one of two rooms in this two-room house, while my mum sleeps with a book on her chest; and my dad walks through the village taking pictures of the houses and their many colours. The alpacas are grazing in the back garden with Nero, the 14 year old dog, looking on from the shade, his lead fastened to a tree. It might rain later, it might not. I think it's Monday, but I'm not sure.
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Steam.Core added a blog entry in Steam.Core's Blog
The beginningSo I'v been doing alot of looking around the internet for OoT texture packs and havent found many at all so my fiance and myself have decided to make a few of our own and we will also custom make a texture pack based on your style for intense my favorite game other then zelda is Skyrim so i decided to make a wolf based skyrim theme for my OoT ROM I'v been up for about 16 hours working on the main title screen and yound and adult link. However I could always use help if any one would like to be included in this project. Thank you and hope to hear from some one soon.
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pheonix561 added a comment on a blog entry The Protoculture
No problem man. I'm just glad other people get annoyed when a topic of conversation is breached only to repeat the same things we've all heard about it a million times over.
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Necropolis added a comment on a blog entry The Protoculture
No, thats fine. There wasn't much of a point, it was kind of rambly. I'm glad it fostered conversation.
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pheonix561 added a comment on a blog entry The Protoculture
I definitely agree with both of you, especially on the bit about everyone agreeing with each other or circle jerking each other. Or like, how annoying it is when some kind of obnoxious, played out topic of conversation comes up like "is there a god" in philosophy, and now everyone has to start repeating and echoing everyone else's ideas on deism and agnosticism. I want to skip the next two hours of that part of the conversation that everyone already knows about and cut right to the heart of the matter. I think I got away from what this actual blog entry was about.
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Necropolis added a comment on a blog entry The Protoculture
Danke. You do have a skype, right?
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LLmao ?✊? added a comment on a blog entry The Protoculture
Also can I say that you're one of my favorite humans here. I wanna be besties.
Edit: above, my formatting isn't working
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LLmao ?✊? added a comment on a blog entry The Protoculture
(I'm gonna reply to this in regards to how it relates to me.) I think you're right about yourself and about me. I don't think you learn thjngs from people agreeing with each other all the time. In my life, I am surrounded by liberals who are reacting to a real or imagined stimulus of conservatism. But all I am experiencing are their reactionary liberal opinions. Even though I am from Texas, I get a huge oversaturation of liberal opinions. It's so suffocating.
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But about you: you've always given me the feeling that you were balanced. Playing devil's advocate is cool. It helps you triangulate your own stance. If you understand when your belief is not true, then you probably have a strong grasp of your stance. Not that you need an official stance. But you want one and you seem like you've got it figured out.
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Also I think we feel the same way about gender equality. My gripe with feminism is that it claims to want equality for everyone, when it's really only aiming for change for a select group. And that part is all fine, it just is self-righteous and unassailable if you say "I'm doing this for the entire human race!" I support gender equality when it comes to acting as an individual. Forcing others to do something, like you said, is prob not desirable. I was thinking about this subject too, the other day. I don't think I'd support a movement, protest or "ism" that involves other people doing things against their will. Like, if you want to change the world, the only place you can start is with your own actions. It's also the place where you should stop, regardless of how noble or pure your intentions are.
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Necropolis added a blog entry in A skeleton in your closet
The ProtocultureI've had a lot of things floating around in my head lately. I say lately, I actually mean in the last few months. this blog, as an example, I wrote about a month ago. I suppose I've just been floating a few things around in my head, letting them percolate until I thought I could express them in a way that accurately represents how I feel about something. First came clarifying in my head how in fact I do feel about it. And I think I know, or at least I know how to get the ball rolling
The title of this first blog entry is The Protoculture. Besides being a Macross reference, I think its a solid term for the kind of things I'm talking about. Just to warn anyone off from this topic before I get rolling, this is about politics, feminism, and a lot of topics that are pretty divisive, especially on this website.
I have trouble with my political identity these days. In high school I liked to tell myself I was fairly moderate, but after a fashion I realized I was on the liberal side of things on almost every hot button issue, so I identified, and still for the most part identify, as a left leaning individual. At the same time I try to play devil's advocate when I can, try to see debates from both sides. I do this because, if all you ever see or read are things from the same perspective as yourself its easy to get stuck in your beliefs. At that point all you're doing is participating in a big circlejerk. I don't want that. I don't ever want that, I want to be able to see things clearly, to cut to the truth of the matter, if such a black and white thing can be found. I get the feeling, and this is just a feeling, if I'm wrong please call me out on it, that LL is much the same on that. Like, he shows up and plays the devil's advocate on all of the political threads that pop up, but If I remember correctly, he's even more liberal than I am, just going by those tests a bunch of us took before. So I say all of that, I guess as a guidepost for what I'm going to talk about next
For a long time, it was my point of view that feminism was an artifact of the past. That people like Susan B Anthony and other suffragette’s succeeded, women having the right to vote, Title IX being enacted. In school they teach feminism as something like that, or at least they did when I went to school. So, when confronted with the reality, that De Jure, there is Gender equality, but De facto, there are still a lot of problems. And I agree with that. There are. Culturally, there are still a lot of rigidly enforced gender roles, I don’t want to get into ALL of that, people have spent their entire lives talking about it, and I don’t have that long, its 1:00 in the morning and I have a trip tomorrow. Whenever I think about Gender inequalities, all I ever get back to is that in order to effect any change you would have to change culture in a lot of fundamental ways, and you can’t make people nice. You can’t force civility on people, or you wouldn’t be civil yourself. Its so easy to get lost in anger about these things, but when that happens you so often become worse than what you fight.
A big scapegoat on the internet is lumping a lot of people and things into Tumblr, this new “Protoculture” and blaming it for everything. Maybe its not scapegoating, maybe Tumblr is the stereotype, but I generally try to assume the best of things. And I have it on good authority that Tumblr is 90% porn, and I can get behind that. Thought i’d throw a bit of humor into this rambling wall of text. Regardless, what i’m getting at is that there is a movement that I am witnessing and I don’t know where I stand anymore. A new kind of Liberalism I guess, and I can’t just chalk it up to radicals shouting loudly because I know reasonable people, some on this very site, that are as much a part of it. I keep looking at myself and my political identity and I always ask questions, I constantly question myself, check myself, to make sure i’m standing in the right place. I think I am, but I know people, have seen people, who KNOW that they are right. Sometimes that gives me pause. So, any civil discourse on where we sit in the pages of history is most welcome. This wasn’t nearly as solid as I thought it was when it was sitting in the percolator, but I think I needed to exorcise it, get it out there. Please feel free to engage in civil discourse in the comments, if anyone feels like getting through this wall of nonsense.
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PrimaGaga added a topic in Video Games
Nintendo Network IDSimilar to the 3DS friend code thread, post your Nintendo Network ID, and tell us which system(s) you have it on~
Forum Name: NNID (Systems)
Phanta (Me): ForeverSpooky (Wii U and 3DS)
Silver Moon: SilverAlchemic (Wii U)
Eka: Coraleka (Wii U and 3DS)
T1g: That1guy106 (Wii U)
Cascade: Junkobears (Wii U and 3DS)
Double45: npittman25 (Wii U and 3DS)
LL: LargelyLegendary (Wii U)
Luneth Uchiha: ProCloud_Fair (Wii U)
Aethix: Aethix (Wii U)
Chase: FreefallSuperman (Wii U)
Tappy: gametap (Wii U)
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