SMOFing
Ranting
Definition: SMOF: Secret Masters of Fandom. AKA, sci-fi convention politicking.
Disclaimer: I'm not angry at you. No, I'm not. I'm engaged in self-defense, but I'm not angry at you. Promise. Extra-special. For the love of god, believe me.
Damning admission: It doesn't make any sense that I don't like it. After all, it's just gossip. And I like gossip.
I don't want to hear it. I do not care what convention made you feel which way. I do not care what the board did or didn't do. I don't care about the inside scoop on who is feeling included or excluded.
I know that you do care. I know that it matters very much to you. I know that you consider this a personal issue. I know that you've been hurt. You are certainly entitled to feel however you want.
But I don't want to listen anymore. Really. It exceeds my snarkiness tolerance. You are all my friends. I am glad that all of you have a convention to believe in, or at least an author, party, or hang-out. I am glad that you enjoy the politicking. I can see where it would be amusing. I don't want to play.
So, if you see me slip out of the room when you're playing, don't worry about me. I'll sneak off and read somewhere until it's over. It's not personal, it's not that I feel you're actively excluding me. It's just that I don't want to deal with the bitterness. Because I love you all, and hate to watch the divisiveness.
I have this long rant in me about how ironic it is that so many people seem to have turned to the fan world to escape to somewhere they feel accepted, and then spend all their time dividing the sheep from the goats, but the longer it gets, the more accusatory it sounds. And I don't want to sound accusatory.
I love you. I like science fiction and fantasy. I enjoy conventions. I enjoy the people I meet there. And I'd like to leave it at that.
Definition: SMOF: Secret Masters of Fandom. AKA, sci-fi convention politicking.
Disclaimer: I'm not angry at you. No, I'm not. I'm engaged in self-defense, but I'm not angry at you. Promise. Extra-special. For the love of god, believe me.
Damning admission: It doesn't make any sense that I don't like it. After all, it's just gossip. And I like gossip.
I don't want to hear it. I do not care what convention made you feel which way. I do not care what the board did or didn't do. I don't care about the inside scoop on who is feeling included or excluded.
I know that you do care. I know that it matters very much to you. I know that you consider this a personal issue. I know that you've been hurt. You are certainly entitled to feel however you want.
But I don't want to listen anymore. Really. It exceeds my snarkiness tolerance. You are all my friends. I am glad that all of you have a convention to believe in, or at least an author, party, or hang-out. I am glad that you enjoy the politicking. I can see where it would be amusing. I don't want to play.
So, if you see me slip out of the room when you're playing, don't worry about me. I'll sneak off and read somewhere until it's over. It's not personal, it's not that I feel you're actively excluding me. It's just that I don't want to deal with the bitterness. Because I love you all, and hate to watch the divisiveness.
I have this long rant in me about how ironic it is that so many people seem to have turned to the fan world to escape to somewhere they feel accepted, and then spend all their time dividing the sheep from the goats, but the longer it gets, the more accusatory it sounds. And I don't want to sound accusatory.
I love you. I like science fiction and fantasy. I enjoy conventions. I enjoy the people I meet there. And I'd like to leave it at that.