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dduane · 28 days

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Hello! Do you think your conception of magic in YW is influenced at all by computer code? Between High Wizardry and some of the website admin stuff you discuss here, I'm guessing you've coded at least a little.

I'm an actor-turned-librarian who's cobbled together a little bit of coding competency through goofing off. The other day I tried to explain how I conceptualize a coding project and, well, first you need to figure out something's name -- and make sure you're properly specific for the context, you may need a lot of detail in how you name it -- and then you can start figuring out how to persuade it to do what you want ....

So I guess it's sort of a chicken-and-egg question: have I conceptualized coding in the image of my favorite fictional magic systems, or have I been generally drawn to magic systems with a sort of code-y, process-y inspiration?

I wouldn't like to second-guess your in-brain structure. But I can talk about my historical processes a bit, as they may apply to this.

Let me step back slightly. Before* I was a writer, I was a nurse. Before I was a nurse, I was studying to be an astrophysicist. Both of these arts/sciences require a certain sense of the hard structure of the universe—of the ways it requires you to put bits of it together if you're going to get anything useful done. This general outlook has determined, to a certain extent, how I interact with the nuts and bolts of the online world.

More historically speaking: I'm one of an unusual stratum of computer users who were technologically orphaned by the (bankruptcy) failure of the Osborne computer company in the mid-1980s. Those of us who had these machines, and who were at all techie-oriented, quickly became WAY more so in an attempt to keep our Osbornes running after the company went under. We learned how to keep our babies going without any available support, and when we moved on to other machines, we quickly became expert in fixing them... having learned the bitter lesson that when your computer fails, most of the time you're the only one you're going to be able to rely on to keep it going.

We learned to do things for ourselves, from the bottom up: hardware to programming. That mindset has remained with me from then until now.

After my Osborne, I moved from an early Apple (lent by our old friend Michael Reaves) to various early DOS/TRS machines when I moved over to this side of the Atlantic. I wrote Star Trek: The Kobayashi Alternative on a TRS-80 Model 100, gods bless its gentle hardworking heart. (I can still see in my mind the pale, pine-panelled interior of the ancient creaky London hotel, just south of Notting Hill Gate Tube, where I did most of the Trek work while I was in town on other business. I'd hooked the computer's modem to the hotel's phone system with alligator clips.) While Peter and I were later sorting out where we'd live on this side of things, for a long time—before portable computers, except for the TRS—the big machines lived in the boot of the Volvo while we migrated from place to place. And always the alligator clips were there.

Finally we settled in Ireland, and not too long after us, so did the Internet. (But not before I had to go up to Dublin one time, with the alligator clips again FFS!, and show the adorably clueless national telephone company guys how to hook up/in. ...I never pass that building without thinking of it: once Telecom Eireann, then Eircom, then Eir. Now it's a Starbucks. No matter. I remember where to hook the alligator clips in.)

And then, with the internet, lo, there came the (net-oriented) coding. Our first household web site went online in 1995. I handcoded our site's HTML. (Because what's a girl to do: wait for the techbois to make such work accessible or affordable? Bwahahahaha.) I continued to do that until the early 2000s, at which point I moved our sites to Drupal and learned its obscure ways. These days—having decided that Updating Damn Drupal Core Every Week is not what my mom raised me for—I've migrated all our household sites to WordPress, and I like it. I still pay a lot of attention to them, but at least I don't have to custom-code every whole damn page. I'm happy enough to let Elementor do that, while inserting occasional custom CSS, because (a) I have other writing to do, and (b) Life Is Too Short.

(I also used to hand-build our household computers, because (a) money was short and (b) why not know exactly what all your hardware is? But more recently I've started letting Scan in the UK do that. It's another Life Is Too Short thing... and Scan does good work. Lovely tight builds, and good customer service when needed.)

So: yeah, I code. :) Is the Young Wizards universe’s spell structure influenced by that? Uh, yeah. Inevitable, I’d think. Habit is such a taskmaster.

Meanwhile, summing up: I'm fluent in HTML. I'm nearly as fluent in CSS. I have enough PHP to be dangerous (to myself as well as others). I have memories of C that I can dredge up when necessary. I generated most of the Rihannsu language in MS-BASIC, gods bless it. ...And beyond that (as we say around here), deponent saith not. :)

*Or “while”, as I started writing when I was six or seven.

#coding #writing #Young Wizards #Young Wizards meta

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monsterkissed · 2 years

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hey so where are all these non-human non-binary characters that are apparently cropping up all over the place and it’s very bad and problematic and needs to be curtailed? i see people complaining about them every other month as if monstrous/alien/robot/whatever nbs were swarming the media landscape but whenever i go looking it’s the same overwhelming lack of any nb characters at all as it always was and the vast majority of inhuman characters are actually either men or women bc god forbid we forget for a moment that the gender binary is innate and universal to all life worth writing a tv show about

is this like the thing a few years ago where people would come on this webbed site and complain that all the lesbian rep was overrun with butches and we needed to stop making butch wlw characters to balance this out, i.e. incoherent nonsense and a scoop of confirmation bias so big you could choke on it?

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nilly002 · 1 year

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Probably nobody that wants to hear this but I am so fucking pissed about reddit killing itself.

Reddit was my favourite place on the entire web. Unlike all the other social media it wasn't about putting individual users on a stage and everyone following them it was simply a shared stage with the users collectively deciding what get's to be in the spotlight.

Yes it was a shithole but it was our shithole. We decided what we got. The algorithm on reddit was utter dogshit and everyone just disabled it, the real algorithm was the hive mind filtering the best content to the top. All the while actual conversation and debate was actually possible because the comments were not arbitrarily limited in length or ordered by what can only be described as little Timmy's first attempt at a Bogosort algorithm.

We had a fucking contract: users bring the content and watch ads, moderators keep the site usable and the amount of effort reddit has to put in to not get sued down to a minimum, all reddit had to do was provide the servers, ban a subreddit once in a blue moon and be content with having a decently profitable site with the factually most worthless users of big social media

But NOOOOO "We NeEd To InCrEaSe PrOfItS! ThOsE pEsKy ThIrD pArTy ApPs ArE sTeAlInG oUr MoNeY" No you idiot they just provided a better service than you did. Why shut them down when you could just copy what they have and make them unnecessary? And then in the process they try to softban nsfw as well because "ItS bAd FoR aDvErTiSmEnT!" god how I fucking hate capitalism.

There's this beautiful thing that people have created in collaboration which brings joy, news, entertainment, education, support and community to so many people and it was ALREADY PROFITABLE but no we need to ruin it to squeeze out as much cash as possible.

Fuck all those people who helped build the website and make it what it is today, fuck all the users who contributed it and spent sleepless nights to make some dumb pixel art bringing your shitty ass website into the news all across the globe fuck all the moderators who spent countless hours doing unpaid labour to keep a community they loved alive and saving you billions in moderation costs, fuck everyone that loves this website

BECAUSE WE WANT MORE MONEY!

Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of a cancer cell and for reddit the diagnosis is terminal.

#fuck reddit #fuck capitalism #fuck u/spez #reddit #r/196 #196 #r196 #reddit migration #rant

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batboyblog · 1 month

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I really appreciate your "what Biden did" series and wanted to say that I think it deserves to reach off-Tumblr people, maybe through Suvstack or Medium 🧡. Seriously, if everyone had access to it I think it would change/increase votes.

Thanks, I mean part of why I do it is Tumblr is kinda a forgotten social media site? there's an official Biden campaign on twitter, insta, YouTube, god help us even TikTok, but as far as I know not Tumblr.

and I get it Tumblr is small relative to say TikTok, but the result is overwhelming misinformation and intense doomerism and over all radicalization of people

this is my little internet home the webpage that works the best for me to express myself the way I want to, the ability to post long form information, do media, reblog from others etc

So I don't want to just give up and let it be flooded with bullshit that if it effects how people vote will make the real world a worse place to live. So this is my little effort to do counter programing and point out that the Biden Presidency has been a big transformative progressive Presidency, that we're getting done the biggest big government things since LBJ.

I hope if I keep it up every week it'll really spread and effect Tumblr, but even if not its a little something I can do.

and really I find all the things interesting and hopeful so there's that.

so I'll let team Biden do their thing on bigger more important webbed pages and I'll be the unofficial campaign out here, fighting misinformation with information

I'll leave everyone with this:

The murder rate is at a historic low, dropping 20% from 2023 in the same period

the US is the best economy in the world beating its G7 peers by leaps and bounds

good economy, low crime, usually good reasons to vote for the sitting President.

#Joe Biden #Thanks Biden #politics #ask #answered

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salmonskinrolltf · 1 month

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I’m an 19 year old jock, brown hair, brown eyes. Could you send a copy of the Dukes of Hazzard Seasons? I really like Bo Duke from the show. Something about his himbo redneck charm just makes me fall for him.

Your Be Kind Rewind tape and die have arrived! You roll the die because the web site said you should, but when you roll a 1, nothing happens. You shrug and pop the Dukes of Hazzard tape into your VCR, hitting rewind so you can make sure to catch every moment from the beginning.

As the tape begins to rewind, you think about how you always kinda thought it made more sense for Bo to be gay, or at least bi. He certainly always seemed to prefer the company of Luke to any of the women in his life. You figured he needed a wild, rough-and-tumble redneck guy who could show up in his life and shake him out of his heteronormative upbringing, show him how different it can be to have a little fun with another willing guy.

Unfortunately, that someone can’t be you. Bo’s not real, first of all. But more importantly, you’re too much of a clean-cut jock for that. You think back to your latest game, and how great the uniforms made the asses of the other players look. Especially that one guy - what was his name? you can’t remember - when he was going to make a… basket? Field goal? What sport do you play again? You shake your head as your memories go fuzzy like an old television that needs adjusting.

You decide to reboot your memory by tracking back to the most recent thing you remember and working your way back to the present from there. You cycle through the fuzzy colors and blurry shapes until you hit on something. Siphoning gas from the sheriff’s tank so you could go on a joy ride. Now that memory is very clear, thankfully. What did you do after that?

As you ponder, you feel a tickling on the back of your neck as your hair grows, slithering down in a greasy tangle. The tickling hits your shoulders, and then your mid-back. You shake your head and your mullet flutters against your back. God, you love that feeling. It was hard-earned, too, it took you years to grow all that shit out.

The next memory falls into place. Going mudding with some of your cousins the day after your joy ride. What a good time! You shake your head again and the tickling transfers to the front of your face as a greasy brown beard drapes from your sideburns down across to your chin, a mustache sprouting as the cherry on top of the unkempt, disheveled sundae.

You stroke your beard as you smile and remember going cow-tipping the next day. You picked the biggest cow, of course, to prove how strong you are… While you think about your prowess, your athletic muscles actually shrink down a bit, leaving you with skinny arms and a slim torso where your ribs are in plain sight.

Getting hot, you remove your shirt and stuff it in your back pocket. Your memories are finally traced back to the game you were trying to remember… That game of darts you were playing at the local bar the other night. God, Buck’s arms looked so daggum delicious in that sleeveless denim shirt. You scratch your chest and light brown hair swirls in a spiral pattern from around your nipples, eventually spreading across your entire torso.

And that last memory brings you back to the present… what was it you were doing right now? You were getting ready to watch something, right? It was a… A… You wanted to watch the sunset from Makeout Point, yeah that’s what it was. But you didn’t want to go alone, which is why you parked your truck here by the local bar. You look around to see a serene roadside bar, the trees gently swaying in the humid breeze. You wipe sweat from your forehead, glad you already took your shirt off so you aren’t feeling too overheated. It’s been a loooooong, hot summer.

Suddenly the squeal of tires distracts you from your reverie. A slick car pulls up and out climbs the most handsome blond guy you’ve ever seen in your life.

You chuckle to yourself. This guy is a hunk of all-American beef, but you can see a little sugar in ‘im. You know he’d be willing to experiment if a stud like you showed him the ropes. He wouldn’t be able to resist your sexual magnetism. You spit on the ground, then whistle, catching his attention. He looks over at you and you wink. “What’s your name, pardner?” you ask.

#redneck #Be Kind Rewind #Roll the Die #mullet

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bit-odd-innit · 1 year

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Fic: Somewhere That’s Green

[based on a post I made about Eddie’s future]

It’s a hole in the wall just off the main drag, the kind of place you can’t find unless you know to look. In a previous life it had been a pizzeria, which explained the bright green vinyl awning Eddie had no intention of replacing. He’d kept the pick-up window, too, used it to host “office hours.” (“Office hours” was supposed to mean “deliver personalized music recommendations to interested passers-by.” Now it means “help harried, double-parked parents reschedule music lessons.”)

He’d also kept the apartment upstairs. They have a house now—a nice one, with a wrap-around porch and a big backyard and a cluster of hedges Steve always insists are “a mess”—but when Eddie trips into an inventory hole and loses track of time, it’s nice to have a place to crash. If it’s not a school night sometimes Steve joins him, and they’ll relive the halcyon days of their early twenties, buoyed by cheap beer, diner curly fries, and giddy infatuation. (The infatuation has only grown and flourished even as his tolerance for salty food has withered. Acid reflux is a bitch.)

He’s happy they kept the apartment. He happy knowing that if someone needs it—someone scared, broke, desperate for a lifeline and a scrap of no-strings-attached kindness—it’s something he can provide.

Initial plans had been to focus on music, just music. It was supposed to be the utopic all-metal record store of Eddie’s nightmares. But as he started to build stock, he remembered how hard it had been to find merch for the things he liked. How a pin or a patch or poster he’d dug up at a garage sale four towns over made him feel more seen than anything on offer at the local mini-mall. How he wanted to be a hub for the weird shit not everyone liked, but the people who did loved. His horrible little magpie brain fluttered from shiny thing to shiny thing, and by the time opening day rolled around the store was a one-stop shop for all things music, merch and whatever wacky knick-knacks tickled Eddie’s fancy. Or horrified Steve. Or both. Both was best.

The Corroded Coffin guys slotted in easily. Francis always liked doing promo for their gigs, was good at it, too. But by the early 2000s, his methods were apparently so outdated his daughter begged to let her take over. (“He’s stapling fliers to telephone poles, Uncle Eddie. You don’t even have a website.”

“What is a telephone pole covered in fliers if not the working man’s web-ed site?”

“Oh my God give me your credit card I’m buying you a domain name.”

“A what?”)

Jeff got his CPA and took over the financials, reeling Eddie in whenever he was struck by the urge to make a impulsive, outlandish purchase. (“I genuinely don’t understand how you make money.”

“It’s cause I don’t do my taxes.”

“I do your taxes. At a great personal expense.”)

Gareth was instrumental (heh…) in building up the music program—soundproofing the basement and hiring instructors and coordinating concerts and organizing payment plans, all the nitty-gritty non-music stuff that made Eddie’s head spin. At some point it just made the most sense for Eddie to cede control, let him operate it however he saw fit. (“This is your baby, dude. It’s a baby that took form within my own, much larger baby. But it’s yours.”

“I’m touched by your words and appalled by your phrasing.”

“That’s the only way I could have said it.”)

(Gareth also once described the store as an “Elevated Hot Topic.” Eddie still hasn’t decided when he’s going to kick his ass.)

 Momentum grew. Ideas compounded ideas. A kid asked how to sew a patch to his backpack and it snowballed into the Build Your Own Battlevest Workshop. Wayne suggested knocking out the connecting wall between the walk-in freezer and the pantry, and now thrice weekly Eddie runs table-top games for varying age-sets and skill-levels. (At Steve’s request, the elementary school group is called H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS FIRE CLUB. Not because he thinks it needs to be censored. He just thinks it’s funny.) (He’s right.)

It was supposed to be a record store but now it’s so much more. Now there are listening parties and movie screenings and little league teams with his store’s name on the back of their jerseys and and and—

Eddie used to think, if he got lucky, he’d last a year. Now he’s closing in on 30. He was profiled by the local newspaper. They called him “a pillar of the community.”

Wild.

It’s a warm, sunny April morning. He’s sitting at the takeout window, sipping coffee from the bottom half of a teapot-teacup combo that reads, in a menacing blood-red font, THIS FREAK DRINKS TEA. His hair is gathered in a loose braid, the ends still damp from his post-run shower. (Sometime in their mid-thirties Steve tricked him into maintaining a consistent cardio routine, and now he’s the type of person who gets out of bed at the crack of dawn to knock out an “easy three.” He’s a monster, a husk of his former self. A husk with a much-improved lung capacity and thighs that can juice a watermelon but nonetheless HUSK.) The middle school is about a half mile from the shop; he pulls faces at all the students filtering past. (Steve’s kids, current and former, refer to Eddie exclusively as Mr. Munson’s Husband. It never fails to thrill him.)

He’s leaning back to flip the record piping through the store’s speakers (“Dustin I don’t care if it’s ‘easier’ to ‘create a Spotify account,’ whatever that means. We play vinyl only! Let me be pretentious about this one thing!”) when he hears a meek, polite cough coming from just beneath the window. He peers out and on the sidewalk stands a girl. She’s small, too little to be one of Steve’s. She clutches the strap of her backpack, blue eyes huge with nerves and determination.

“Hail and well met, weary traveler!” He’s speaking in what Steve calls his Dork Voice, the slightly tuned-down version he uses to put shy kids at ease. “How might I be of assistance?” The girl purses her lips, sets her shoulders, shakes her shaggy bangs out of her face. Eddie thinks suddenly of Nancy and Robin and his heart clenches.

“Do you like games?” She asks.

He smiles softly. Drops the act. “Yeah.” He rests his scarred cheek in the cradle of his palm. “I like games. Do you like games?”

The dam breaks.

“Yes!” She replies at once, breathless with enthusiasm. “My family plays a lot of board games, like Game of Life and Monopoly, and they’re okay but kind of boring, but my brother taught me how to play Settlers of Catan and I really liked that, and my friends and I played Werewolf at a sleepover but we made up a bunch of extra rules to make it harder, and my cousin showed me this video game where the ending changes based on what choices you make and that’s so cool—”

“Alright, slugger.” Eddie can’t help but laugh. “What game are you looking to play?”

The girl collects herself. “Okay,” she says. “Okay, so. So I like it in games where there are rules, but also you can make stuff up? And you can do something weird that might ruin everything but also might pay off? And sometimes you have to work with other people to accomplish your goal, but alliances can break?” Eddie nods. “So there’s this one game. It sounds like so much fun, but nobody I know plays it. They play it on this show I like, well, okay, it’s not really a show, it’s, uh, okay do you know what a podcast is?” Eddie beams.

Steve swapped study hall coverage so he could pop in for lunch. Tonight is parent-teacher conferences, which means Steve’ll be home late, which means Eddie will get absorbed in a project and either crash upstairs or stumble home well after Steve’s gone to bed, which means they’ve got to snatch the time together they can get. They split a sandwich, a salmon burger from Costco Eddie threw in the air fryer and smashed up with avocado and grilled poblano pepper. (”It’s heart healthy!” “You’re heart healthy.” “Aw.” “I meant that as an insult.” “I’m not taking it as one, mwah mwah mwah.”) Eddie eats too fast, as he often does, and drags his nails over the veins of Steve’s forearm to distract himself from his gastrointestinal tract turning inside out.

“🎶Myyyy babyyyy myyyyyy babyyyyyy,” he hums against the shell of Steve’s ear. “You’reeee my babyyyyy sayyyy it to meeeeee🎶.” “Alright,” he huffs, tapping his fingers to the knobby bone of Eddie’s wrist. He presses a kiss to the underside of Eddie’s jaw and rises. “I gotta get back.” He slings his messenger bag over his shoulder, gathers the papers he’d promised he’d grade but didn’t. Eddie watches him readjust, watches him smooth down the salt-and-pepper hairs dusting his temples, watches him push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He catches Eddie watching and asks, slyly, “What?”

Eddie wants to say, I love you. He wants to say, you’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be. He wants to say, I’m so grateful I built this life with you.

But he’s still himself, so what he says is, “Those khakis make your ass look great.”

Steve scoffs, and with a bitchy eye roll he sinks his weight onto his back foot and says, “I KNOW,” and there he is. There’s the man he married. He looks over his shoulder before he leaves, his honey-warm eyes liquifying Eddie’s spine.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “I love you too.” Eddie kisses him and kisses him and kisses him. Pretty good life.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #my fanfic

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hey-must-be-a-devilbetween-us · 8 months

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okay so I've been just been thinking about Aziraphale and insecurities and the general census I've gotten from this webbed-site 'that he would never shut up that's stupid.' (in a non serious way lol)

Hear me out though, Aziraphale could change his corporeal form to whatever he liked but I think that doesn't necessarily mean he wouldn't feel self conscious sometimes.

He was issued this body from the beginning like a tool or a weapon and it has been effected noticeably by hedonism and enjoying earthly pleasures, so to other angels this is weird.

like even Gabriel commented and mocked him for being chubby in s1.

so! in general i think he really likes the idea of presenting himself being a cute round sweet little pooh bear (while in reality being a fucking killing machine, an absolute badass) which separates himself from the other angels, in a perceivably subtle way he likes to look different from them, not so severe, kind and approachable and comfy, like an old couch instead of a metal chair, but hes still obviously an angel.

but sometimes i think it wouldn't be too crazy for him to wonder if the way his body is now is something Crowley could ever find attractive (sexually or otherwise), and that's really the only place where the insecurity would stem from ya know?

(plot twist: every person Crowley's ever looked at twice is only because they looked like Aziraphale, but I'm sure you knew that.)

BUT i think the idea of changing himself to be something he thought Crowley would like would be so embarrassing and would seem wholly pathetic to him right?

and it would make him sad to think that Crowley is that shallow and really this is him, the curves and the marks and ruddy face and chubby thighs and round belly are all proof of how thoroughly he's enjoyed his time on earth, feasting and relaxing and reading.

and its ironic because all of those things have been facilitated by Crowley in some form or another because he likes to tend to him.

Anthony acts of service Crowley, i would go so far as to say that the physical evidence of Aziraphales pleasure and decadence and enjoyment are super gratifying, and obviously he thinks Aziraphale is as cute as a button (and if I'm being gross on main, imo Crowley thinks Aziraphales plump curvy loveliness is red burning hot, v relatable.)

so Aziraphale could change himself into something he might think Crowley would like, but god wouldn't that just be humiliatingly vulnerable, it would be admitting too much and really he wants Crowley to want him the way that he is, it wouldn't feel good otherwise.

I'm not saying he loathes his body, otherwise he would change it of course, (and he shouldn't he's lovely) I just think his feelings on the subject are probably pretty nuanced, two or more feelings can exist at once, ya feel me?

hahaha but yeah baby you're ALREADY THERE, peak form.

#just writing a reunion fic where aziraphale says he just thought crowley wouldn't be interested in him that way #and crowley proceeds to fail to load.executable #and when am i not gross on main honestly #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #good omens 2 #aziracrow #good omens meta #i'm sure this isn't a hot take but eh take my meta anyways

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themainspoon · 9 months

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If you are a WoD fan and you aren’t aware of how fucking wild White Wolf’s strategy for marketing Demon: the Fallen was, that changes right fucking now, get ready.

So, the year is 2002, American Culture is still moving past the Satanic Panic, and your job is to market a Table Top Role Playing Game where you play as literal demons who were aligned with the Biblical figure of Lucifer. The book has a big ass pentagram on its cover, and is filled with information on fictional demons and their demonic powers.

How do you market this?

Well, isn’t it obvious?

You satirise Chick Tracks by making a fake one about how the game you’re supposed to be promoting is satanic. I’ve linked it below, it’s only 23 pages long;

But you may be thinking: “Ok, that’s a funny concept, but why is this such a big deal to you?” Well, buckle the fuck up kiddo’s, because I want you to look at that last panel again:

Do you notice anything about it that could prompt further inquiry? What about that URL?

You see, the chick track was only one part of this little marketing stunt.

And so, I ask again, how do you market Demon: the Fallen?

You create an entire fake Evangelical church website called the Eternal Grace Evangelical Church, and write a fake sermon in which you claim that the brand that hired you is producing games that turn children into drug addicts and sexual predators, also claiming that Vampire: the Masquerade was involved in real world murders including the fucking Columbine School Shooting.

Below is a link to the site from the Internet Archives Wayback machine, the main bulk of the interesting stuff is in the sermons section.

Quick note, they used EVERY part of the evangelical bullshit playbook to make this site look legit, they went hard on this. So, the site is satire, but it still feels like it would be a good idea to mention that they satirise everything about Evangelicals, including their homophobic, transphobic, anti-catholic, and anti-pagan beliefs.

https://web.archive.org/web/20031205191032/http://www.father-ramos.com:80/

If you don’t want to read it yourself, here are some actual quotes from this fake Evangelical site that was, and I can’t stress this enough, MADE BY WHITE WOLF TO PROMOTE DEMON: THE FALLEN: (above disclaimer applies here too)

“Eternal Grace Congregation Church is a community of Christians who seek to love, worship and praise Him and to communicate the Word of the Gospel to the world around us while exposing the lifestyles and and recruiting prctices of those deviants who would make this world a place of horrors. Among these are homosexuals, gamblers, drug addicts and role-players.”

“You may find it useful to tell role-players about the Dallas youths who were burned to death in the steam tunnels of Southern Methodist University (of course it was the Methodists) while exploring them for treasure. Tell them about the syphilis-related insanity of Jimmy Cox, a Tennessee teenager who used role-playing games to build around him a coven of homosexuals. Tell them about Michelle Sikes, the Montana role-player who had a sex-change operation. The more perversion you can ascribe to involvement with role-playing the better. You may even wish to fabricate some of your own, to better illustrate the point to your specific at-risk individual.”

“Listening to accounts of the role-players’ games is either the height of tedium (it must be said, pardon my air of judgment) or evinces strong feelings of pity, […] Invitations to participate, if accepted, place the individual in a precarious position himself, and will probably expose him to the scourges of drugs, fornication, homosexuality and Catholicism/paganism in many cases.”

“point out to them that the activity borders on delusion (“You are not an elf, Tommy!”) and heresy (“If God intended for you to act like a demon, he would have made you a demon, Jenny”).”

“In addition, rumors (which is why I relegate this to a side note instead of including it in the main body of my discourse) link the activities of the Columbine high-school “trenchcoat mafia” with Vampires Masquerade.”

“As good Christians, it is obviously our duty to prevent our youth from learning the corrupt ways these books and games teach. Sex, suicide, drug abuse, homosexuality, “golden showers” and many other behaviors proscribed by the Lord and the Good Book come as a result of players taking their games too far. In particular, the moral execration contained with the Demon book takes these aberrations to new levels by openly encouraging players to act in the interests of Satan (or Lucifer, as he is depicted herein).”

“Additionally, role-playing games teach that violence is an acceptable and even admirable way of solving problems. Significant portions of their rules are devoted to combat and weaponry. Demon, for example, also contains systems by which the satanic characters can attack or use magic upon their enemies, with dark arts spawned from Hell itself. These are not unlike the gay community’s reactionary “straight bashing” in response to the more physical efforts of their loving fellows (but loving in the Lord’s intended way) to bring them back into the fold.”

“This Week: Pastor "Father" Ramos discusses the Catholic Church and the 68 Million deaths its evil has caused throughout the world! You won't read this in the history books! Father Ramos also discusses why he has chosen to reclaim the Holy tile"Father" from Catholocism.”

White Wolf was frequently quite edgy, and often wasn’t great at dealing with social issues (you could argue this is still true of the modern World of Darkness in some cases). But honestly I think this is a fun stunt. It mocks evangelicals for all their insane bigoted beliefs, and for basically giving all the stuff they call satanic free advertising. No matter what though this is an unhinged marketing stunt, and it is so wild that they actually did this.

#world of darkness #WoD #Demon: the Fallen #DtF #Demon the fallen #White Wolf #White Wolf Games #a certified themainspoon classic

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olderthannetfic · 1 year

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I don't get this "they discussed nsfw themes with minors they are totally a predator" thing I see even on proship side of fandom. Don't get me wrong, if it was a random adult getting random minor roped into discuss fetish stuff with them, it's could be red flag (still — when I was a minor I was deeply interested in some s/m practics and spent a lot of time in bdsm circles reading, asking and talking about this stuff completely on my own will so it depends). For example, I have one friend whom I know since they were sixteen. We started from them making a nsfw art for my fic and immediatly developed into talking in details what other kinky stuff they can draw. Predatory? God forbid, just pure entusiasm about more art for rarepair! Recently — and it was hillarious and awkward — I joined a fandom chat with people I don't know. We talked for a couple of days, about nsfw topics too, then one of people there told that they tried to audition as main kid character in our show when there still was casting. I was like "wait, it was less then two years ago and they specifically asked for preteens, 13 yo max?" and they was like "lol yeah, I turned fifteen like month ago". I asked them privately if they are good with nsfw stuff I bring into chat and they were like "yeah?? or we won't ask you to join?? duh". Which is fair, since, again, they already read and commented a lot at my nsfw fics and I did the same for them and we had little chat about there at twitter before I joined the group chat. So like... it's fandom, it's the place where people under 17 regulary read, write and draw stuff they shouldn't see without parental approval untill they turn 17, and like how it should work? You shouldn't comment a fic if you don't know if author minor or not? Or like you can gush about how this and this is sooo hot in their fic but you can't talk about this in private? Minor can like all your nsfw stuff and tell you how good it is but if you link them to other creators with same themes suddenly you're a predator who sends porn to minors and worth a callout? I don't want to be like "back in my days" but I was hanging with fandom adults since I was 13 yo and nsfw stuff was discussed freely around me and I just haven't joined until I was interested in topic, which was probably around 15, and no one thought it was somehow unsafe or damaging for me, myself included, but like maybe I'm missing something...

Now that I'm in my 40s, I don't particularly want to discuss horny stuff with teens in private. It feels weird in a way that it didn't in my early 20s.

But I despise how pearl clutching inevitably leads to the idea that even telling people kinks exist is "adult content". As a kinky teen, it was hugely formative to me to go read a bunch of adult perverts' web manifestos. I had all these informative books from the local sex-positive bookshops that talked about how to do bondage safely too.

I was able to get a lot of good info without really interacting with older people much, but that's harder these days. Lurking is more penalized. Search engines hide the ancient 90s sites. If you want to even find info, even just recs for books to go read on your own, a lot of that is through social sites that are all about interacting. That's just how it is now.

Seeing predators under every bush actually just cuts young people off from information and resources.

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