The International Lord of Hate v Smugwhiner von Sneer
Larry Correia, man among men, take the time to dismantle the filthy lies and maggoty madness of a subterranean dwarf, or Nibelung, named A. A. George, who, on behalf of my publisher Tor, and in the name of Tor, accuses all gamers in general and GenCon in particular of being racists.
Mr Correia in hiphigh boots wades through the dung-choked mire of race-baiting smugwhiningness so you don’t have to. Read and admire:
http://monsterhunternation.com/2014/08/19/no-tor-com-gencon-isnt-racist-a-fisking
The money quote is this. Mr George (I assume him male, because women tend not to be this aggressively stupid) is in italics, and the bold Mr Correia is in bold.
These are symbols, important symbols. If the color of all the leadership, of all the roles of power and recognition, the entire structure is white, and if this same leadership is tolerant of hate-speech, it gives a clear unspoken signal to the non-white community: You can join us here, but only if you leave your history, your people, and your emotions at the door.
Speaking of symbols, get off your cross. There is no “clear unspoken signal” to be extrapolated out of all that straw. Nobody other than your fevered imagination told you to abandon your history, your people, or your emotions, George.
You want to know why real instances of racism are often overlooked? Because the public is the villagers and you SJWs are the boy who cried wolf. When every unconscious action or event is somehow racist, after a while we tune you out. Real racists disappear into the tall grass of micro-aggressions and invisible privilege.
I’ve been told time and again by gamers, “I don’t see race” as if they were doing me a kindness. This is not enlightenment or progressiveness. It is ignorance. If you do not see race, you do not see me. You do not see my identity, my ethnicity, my history, my people. What you are telling me, when you say “I do not see race,” is that you see everything as the normal default of society: white. In the absence of race and ethnicity, it is only the majority that remains. I am erased.
I may be guilty of uttering the words “I don’t see race” at some point but perhaps I could better rephrase it to say “I don’t give a flying fuck about your race, because I care far more about your individual actions, personality, beliefs, choices, philosophy, and culture, and in this particular case we share the same culture of Gamer. And race is an artificially limiting concept primary used by statist control freaks to keep everyone in easily managed stereotype boxes. When I notice your race it is probably the same way I’d notice if somebody was tall, short, fat, thin, bald, beautiful or ugly. Now shut the fuck up about micro aggressions because you are harshing my mellow and roll the fucking dice.”
How about that? Better?
My Comment:
To those mavins who object that “smugwhiningness” is not a word and has never even been in the same county with a word, all I can say is this: How Mr George manages to combine the aggrieved tone of a whining and spineless ragdoll with the smug self-aggrandizement of Lucifer is a wonder to behold. He is as lathered in self-congratulation as a ravioli in tomato sauce.
He deserves a new word coined to his glory merely for discovering how to combined opposites.
This is literally my comment, since it is a comment I left on Larry Correia’s blog —
BUT FIRST an epic comment by Daddy Warpig, which I reprint here with or without his permission, because it is scatological, but exactly, adroitly, painstakingly apt, a perfect jewel of precision:
Politics is like plumbing: a nasty necessity of human existence, because humans produce a lot of shit.
Normal people deal with plumbing when they have to (a couple of hours after a meal, a broken pipe), and people who get paid to do it (plumbers) need to deal with shit all day. It’s their job. But mentally healthy civilians don’t.
Only a mental defective obsesses over feces and the disposal thereof. What would you think of a person who talks about feces during every single meal, talks about the quality of Captain America’s bowel movements after seeing “Winter Soldier”, and complains that Monster Hunter International doesn’t show the characters eating enough fiber to ensure regular and healthy dumps? Mental defective, right?
People who obsess over politics, and inject it into everything, are just as defective.
Normal, healthy, well adjusted people deal with politics when necessary — stay educated and vote, for Christ’s sake — but the rest of the time they lead a healthy life. People paid to deal with it (newsmen, pundits, politicians) deal with politics because it’s their job.
But these politically obsessed assholes — like those infesting Tor.com — need to get a new goddamn hobby. Because injecting politics into everything is just as disgusting and tedious as telling complete strangers what your last poo looked like.
“Hey, asshole,” I say to people like that. “Keep your shit to yourself.”
Now my comment, which uses more three-dollar words, because that is the way I roll:
The whining craven niflungar says the following: “I’ve been told time and again by gamers, “I don’t see race” as if they were doing me a kindness. This is not enlightenment or progressiveness. It is ignorance. If you do not see race, you do not see me. You do not see my identity, my ethnicity, my history, my people. What you are telling me, when you say “I do not see race,” is that you see everything as the normal default of society: white. In the absence of race and ethnicity, it is only the majority that remains. I am erased.”
As a matter of logic, there are only two possible positions: one is to judge men by their race, and to treat all men of a given race as superior or inferior, elect or reprobate, based solely on their bloodline, to the exclusions of their merits, qualifications, qualities and characteristics. This is a gross injustice.
The other is to treat men according to their individual merits, qualifications, qualities and characteristics, condemning what is bad in them and praising what is good, regardless of bloodline, since the goodness or badness of men does not rest in their bloodline, or in their genes, but in their souls, which have no color, being spiritual hence invisible. This is simple justice.
Hence, whining craven niflungar is demanding to be treated according to his race and bloodline, not according to his individual merit. He is demanding injustice.
One assumes he wishes the injustice to be biased in his favor and not against him, but there is no telling. Perhaps he is a masochist. Perhaps he wishes to claim the high moral status of being oppressed even though, by his own testimony, no one oppressed him and several people went out of their way to confirm that they judged no man by his race, which is just as Martin Luther King wanted.
Apparently he has so strong a nostalgic longing for places and times when men were oppressed by racist laws and customs, that he feels the need to pretend that Gen Con is such a place, even though it quite obviously is not.
This person-of-color, or, to be precise, this person who wishes he were nothing but a color, tells us in his testimony that it is his own uncertainty, lack of pride, cowardice, and hysteria which makes him dislike himself. And he blames those of us who uphold Martin Luther King’s dream for his own hysterical maladjustment.
He just assassinated Martin Luther King all over again.
N.B.: the first critter I ever played in any role playing game was a Vulcan named Satrick, and the second was a Ent named Forevergreen. One was green-blooded and the other was bark-skinned. Next, in a Superhero game I played the child of Vision and Wanda Maximoff called The Humanoid, who was a android magician mutant cyborg whose color scheme was a bright red.
So far, none of them were Caucasians; none were even from the same kingdom as humans.
Next, I played the Ghost of Zorro, who is Spanish, a race I believe most sane people would call Caucasian, but which Leftists insist on calling Colored.
Still no whites, and the dead are not only a different kingdom from Ents and Men, they are not even in the same metaphysical condition of being.
Ah! I played a Russian named Ivan Ivanovitch next, in a Medieval world where all of Russia had sunk into the sea like Atlantis. He claimed to be the Czar of all the Russias on the grounds that no matter how far away from the throne he had been before all other Russians died in the waves, he was now Number One. So, point for Mr Race Quota. On the other hand, Ivan was an NPC assigned to me, not a character I made up.
Next I played a Paladin of Charlemagne named Sir Percival. He was frankly a Frank, and a Crusader, and a slayer of Moors and Witches, and an upholder of Norman privilege against lower classes. So, two points for Mr Race Quota, unless an honest to God medieval Paladin of France counts double, because the Crusader, the Christian with a sword in hand, is the main enemy and croquemitaine of the Politically Correct race baiters. Charlemagne is the man they are trying to conquer: no one has told them he has been dead for over a thousand years.
Next I played a man of Tekumel from MAR Barker’s EMPIRE OF THE PETAL THRONE, a servant of the Doomed Prince of the Blue Room, named Vthanid son of Vathek, who I always assumed from the book art were Aztecs in look and feel, but they are inhabitants of a planet in a cosmos which has no stars it its skies.
The next game I played in was a superhero game, and I played Nightshade from the television version of the FLASH. (Who, by the way, was much cooler than Barry Allen! Note the hat! The goggles! The broomhandle mauser! The supercar hidden behind a sliding Green Hornet style billboard!)
Take a look: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vAhNkRFgTTc
(And, guess what race he is under that mask?)
I did not explain why I called Mr George a Niflungar. For the Wagner impaired, I meant this as a reference to Mime, the whining, self-pitying, pitiless, self-aggrandizing, obsessive and hate-filled dwarf or dark elf who raises Sigfried. The whining, self-pitying, pitiless, self-aggrandizing, obsessive behavior is the same between Mr George and Mime. In Mime’s case, he is obsessed with gaining the Ring of the Nibelungs, which grants bottomless power, and avenging himself on his brother who enslaved him, and ruling the world. Mr George is obsessed with much the same. Power.
He wants the one ring, the ring that rules the world. The problem is that there is no ring.
Notice particularly what Mr George gives as his paramount evidence for the racism of gaming: He says he wanted to be white, because that color gave him power.
Power is the Leftist god. They see the world through goggles that color everything one color, and that color is power. Marx defined all economics as a power struggle, and feminists define all the subtle riddles of the mating dance as a power struggle.
Mr George may or may not be literally neurotic — but even if he is as sane as Gilbert Gosseyn, his beliefs are clearly neurotic. The neurosis is a false to facts association. By his own admission, he has associated ‘power’ with feelings of worth and self-worth, and has associated ‘white skin’ with ‘power.’
I happen to have white skin. Actually, it is somewhat mushroom colored and hairy and sags. So there is no power to white skinnedness, despite what the inner witchdoctor of the Cargo Cult Racist called Mr George tells him. The Europeans conquered the world due to an economic and scientific revolution triggered by a worldview that included the belief in a rational God who made a rational universe. Christianity is the power.
Christendom then made the medieval epic, the Song of Roland, and preserved the pagan epics, Beowulf and so on, on which Professor Tolkien (hence Gary Gygax) based the generic Medieval-flavored adventurelands in whose soil all roleplaying gaming grew and flourished.
If he wants power, the power of heaven, let Mr George drop to his knees in prayer.
About John C Wright
John C. Wright is a practicing philosopher, a retired attorney, newspaperman, and newspaper editor, and a published author of science fiction. Once a Houyhnhnm, he was expelled from the august ranks of purely rational beings when he fell in love; but retains an honorary title.
