Sad Puppies 4 Rebloggery

3 Comments

Sad Puppies 4. It’s ON, bitches!

The beautiful and talented Sarah Hoyt, Kate Paulk, and Amanda S. Green are running this year’s Sad Puppies 4.  If you’re wondering how it will be run, here’s a snip:

The Hugo awards has entirely too small a voting and nominating pool. Five thousand votes is the largest number ever received? Two thousand nomination ballots? That’s piddly. For a field loved by millions, it’s nowhere near enough, and makes it easy for any small clique to corrupt the idea of awarding great SF and start giving themselves awards.

We want at least ten thousand nomination ballots. Tens of thousands of votes (which means tens of thousands of Hugo memberships, either supporting or attending). So many votes and voters that it’s almost impossible for any one group – and yes, that includes the Sad Puppies – to dominate anything.

So, SP4 is all about MOAR! More voters. More votes. More people. We want to make the Hugos bigger and more representative of fandom as a whole, to bring people in rather than give them an asterisk that looks kind of wrong (especially beside the rocket) to try to drive the “interlopers” out. SF is a big tent: we don’t want to kick out anyone, even writers of bad message fiction that makes puppies sad.

To that end, this thread will be the first of several to collect recommendations. There will also be multiple permanent threads (one per category) on the SP4 website where people can make comments. The tireless, wonderful volunteer Puppy Pack will be collating recommendations.

Notice nothing is said about politics. Nothing is said about race, gender, sexual orientation, or anything else. The goal – and you see it here and at Kate’s site in writing – is to bring more people to sci-fi fandom. Period. There will be no “slate.” There will be a list of recommendations hopefully from all walks of life and all sides of the political and social spectrum. This is the mission.

I accept.

Sarah’s Interview with Cathy Young (Part 2)

Leave a comment

This is the second part to the interview about which I blogged yesterday. 

Here’s a snippet. 

(5) Is there any merit to feminist critiques of how sci-fi/fantasy has traditionally portrayed women? Any thoughts on Kameron Hurley’s Hugo-winning “We Have Always Fought” essay?

Will I be penalized if I roll my eyes? There is this strange tendency among the Social Justice Warriors to behave as though they were fighting a “straw science fiction” that never existed. The truth is that, given the restrictions on women’s lives before being freed from some of our biological constraints by contraceptives, science fiction was one of the more accepting/enlightened fields ever for a woman to work in.

Sarah’s Interview with Cathy Young: Sad Puppies and the Hugos

4 Comments

Read it here. There’s some interesting insider baseball on Sarah’s part.

This is Part 1. Here’s an excerpt:

(1) Were you/are you directly involved with the Sad Puppies project, or are you simply a supporter?

I’m a friend of Brad’s and Larry’s and have taken part in a sort of free-floating email discussion of the Hugosplosion since the first one when Larry was doing it for a joke. There was then the second when he set out to prove that people of the wrong opinions/wrong views couldn’t win the Hugo.

[…]

When discussion came around to this year, Larry said he’d proved what he wanted last year, and was not running a slate this year. It was mooted that I should. By that time, I knew I’d likely need major-ish (turned out far more major and explained my issues) surgery early in the year. So Brad volunteered. His goal was not the same as Larry. His goal was to reclaim the Hugo as a brand of “something people will want to read.”

I agree with Brad’s goal. I agree with it very much. I didn’t support Sad Puppies because of politics, or even because some of the nominees are friends of mine. I stood behind Sad Puppies, because I truly believe that literary awards should be about literature. They should be about exciting, interesting reading. While I don’t mind a political or social message in my stories (hell, almost any science fiction book I’ve enjoyed over the years had some of that), I mind when the work is the message. I mind being clubbed over the head with the message. I mind when the message is more important than the plot, the characters, or the writing itself.

And I certainly mind when an insider clique gets together to nominate a work, merely because it happens to conform to some kind of political or social fad of the month, while libeling, slandering, dehumanizing, and attempting to destroy anyone who dares walk out of lockstep with the rest!

I’m not going to rehash old stuff – the lies, the disgusting racism toward Brad, Sarah, and other SPs, affiliates, and supporters, other than to say that the goal of SP3 to me was a noble one, and I was absolutely repulsed by the reaction! The likes of K. Tempest Bradford, Irene Gallo, and Kim Jong Un’s retarded twin Arthur Chu aren’t worth the bandwidth or the effort. I’m fairly sure nothing Brad, or Sarah, or Larry say will change the Puppy Kickers’ minds about the goals of the group anyway.

However, I’m posting Sarah’s interview here anyway, because I know that at least a few people will learn something they didn’t previously know from that glimpse into the Sad Puppies world.

The Cool Kids’ Table

26 Comments

I’ve never sat at it.

When I was a kid in the old USSR, there was nothing “cool” about me. I was kind of scrawny, shy, and I had that damn Jewish last name, so teachers and other students in Soviet schools shunned me as a Jew, ensuring I never got to engage in activities with the other kids. Yeah… I was that lonely kid you saw on a swing by herself in kindergarten while all the other kids were building huge forts and playing team games.

Yes, that's a Soviet birth certificate, and yes, that's the word

Yes, that’s my real Soviet birth certificate, and yes, that’s the word “Jew” I’ve circled. And yes, it followed you everywhere.

My last name in Russian sounds like the Russian word for “hockey puck,” so guess what my fellow students called me back then! They also beat me around quite a bit – much like a hockey puck. I was a Jew after all, so beating up on me became pretty much sport.

When I came to the United States, I was definitely not a cool kid. My parents didn’t have much money – well… really hardly any at all – so I would wear the same clothes every day, which didn’t endear me to my fellow students. They never bought sweets, or junk food, or sodas. I never got ice cream. We didn’t have money for such frivolities. I tasted cereal for the first time in my life when I was nine years old, and it seemed like an amazing treat at the time! What furniture we did have was procured from other people’s trash. So was our TV – a tiny little black and white thing that my dad fixed up, so he could watch the news and learn English. So kids from the neighborhood didn’t come visit. I had no friends. Add to that the fact that they thought I was Russian (despite the fact that I tried to convince them I was French) at the height of the Cold War made me not so popular.

When I was older, I went to summer camp. People weren’t mean to me, but I certainly was not one of the cool kids. I didn’t have many friends. I was generally left behind when my bunk mates got together to play games or go swimming. I spent a lot of time by myself, reading, writing letters to my parents, or walking through the wooded areas of the campground. I had learned sufficient English by then, but I was a bit introverted, and I preferred to spend time by myself.

I was never invited to cool kid parties in middle school – you know those parties where everyone plays “spin the bottle” and hooks up with members of the opposite sex. I did go to some, but I felt awkward and weird, and when I invited kids in my class to my own birthday party, one person showed up, and embarrassed, I never wanted another party.

I did find my voice, so to speak, in high school choir. I participated in concerts and plays. I loved the stage. But ultimately, we were choir and theater geeks, and my husband likes to remind me that I was the type of kid he would have beaten up in high school. I wasn’t a cheerleader. I didn’t play sports. I was a music geek, and I was expected to and did hang out with my own kind.

Frankly, I like it that way.

I don’t care about being popular, or cool, or well liked. I have never chosen the easy or popular path. That’s never interested me. So when time came for a decision about whether or not to support the Sad Puppies, it was easy, and the way the cliquish “cool kids” acted at this year’s Hugo Awards ceremony cemented that choice.

Larry Correia started the Sad Puppy campaign in hopes that the Hugo Awards would become a bigger, more inclusive tent that rewarded good storytelling regardless of politics, personal views, or religion. What culminated in the awards ceremony this year was snark, arrogance, downright cruelty, and slaps in the face to many deserving, well-regarded, talented authors and editors.

There were personal attacks – racist attacks, in fact against a kind, generous, talented man. There were false accusations of racism against some of the kindest, most generous people I know by people who are their peers. Arrogant racists, who claim moral superiority, because they feel entitled to abuse anyone who is white or male and has the temerity to not feel guilty about it, see it fit to impugn the intelligence and soul of one of the brightest, kindest women I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.

This is, of course, the same Cuntasaurus Rex who issued a racist reading challenge to all its drooling, frothing acolytes to stop reading anything written by straight, white, cis male authors for one year. The same wackjob SJW who, by her own admission, couldn’t get through anything written by those evil white oppressors, and would get all ragey and quit reading, because PRIVILEGE! Or something…  has the temerity to impugn the Mensa-level intelligence of Sarah Hoyt – a successful, Latina female author, whose talent and wit Tempest, who admits to have mooched off her rich friends for a while after leaving her oh-so-privileged New York existence, couldn’t even begin to match!

But hey… Tempest is one of the cool kids, right?

Yeah, if that daft bint is at the cool kids table, pardon me while I eat with the nerds!

No, the Sad Puppies will never be at the cool kids table. They will always be the nerds – old fashioned, dedicated to actual talent, strength of writing, storytelling, and love of the craft. They will never be the progtards who worry more about the color of the author’s skin, the political leanings of the writer, the pronoun he or she (YES, I’M USING THE BINARY, YOU MICROAGGRESSED ASSHOLES! DEAL WITH IT) prefers, or the sexual orientation the author happens to be. The Sad Puppies will always choose talent and hard work over pronouns, race, and gender. And that makes them not cool in the eyes of the establishment science fiction and fantasy community.

Not cool. Not progressive. And therefore, intentionally left out in the cold – just like that five-year-old Jewish kid on the swing, sitting alone while all the others built forts.

Well, that’s OK. These are the people I prefer to associate with anyway. Because I love literature. Because I love art. Because I love integrity and honesty. Because I admire talent, intelligence, and dedication to one’s art. And because I think that’s what the Hugo Awards should be about – innovation, imagination, and ingenuity. And I’ll take those a thousand times over the racism of K. Tempest Bradford, the ignorance of Arthur Chu, the disdainful conceit of David Gerrold, the disingenuousness of George R.R. Martin, and the stubborn, arrogant, defamatory libel of Mary Robinette Kowal.

They can have the cool kids’ table. I’m proud to stand with the Sad Puppies. Again.

To Burn or Not to Burn

12 Comments

That is the question when it comes to the Hugo Awards after this year’s petulant, foot-stomping debacle perpetrated by the SJWs and their compliant, cliquish lackeys. All the details are here, including a number of links written by respected authors in the sci-fi community, explaining their views on last weekend’s events. I won’t rehash it here.

An interesting discussion has sprung up post-fiasco, however, which is worth a closer look. It’s the question of whether or not the Hugo Awards can be saved. And by “saved,” I mean “can integrity and professionalism be restored to the Hugo Awards after the weekend’s puerile display, or should the Hugos, WorldCon, and all its childish, sneering arrogance just be allowed to rot on the vine, which is what it is already doing anyway?”

Can an organization that threw deserving, respected, dedicated female editors under the bus with a “NO AWARD” vote rather than see them take home a Hugo, merely because of who happened to support their nomination, be saved?

Can an organization that viciously sneered about this being “the year of the asterisk” – and if you don’t get the joke, the asterisk basically means that the award was somehow tainted, cheating was involved, etc. (Of course, now the callow, derisive jerks claim that the asterisk simply means the Hugos made history this year with the number of attendees… sure.) – be saved?

Can an organization whose  supposed leaders – supposed legends in the science fiction field – told the audience that cheering the “NO AWARD” victory was just fine, but booing it is a no-no, be saved?

Some have rightfully said that the Hugos are beyond saving. When members of a clique deride and jeer a block effort to ensure there was no winner, rather than a winner whose only guilt was endorsement by the “wrong” fan base with the “wrong” politics, it can be rightfully argued that there’s no hope for the organization.

And it’s not as if these childish bullies hid it! Hell, they’re proud of it!

There have been some calls for taking the whole thing down by simply block voting “NO AWARD” for every category. Isn’t this what the childish troglodytes did this past weekend? In their huffy, angry zeal to punish those with whose political views they disagreed, they simply block voted for a “NO AWARD” rather than see authors and editors, who may have been deserving and worthy, take home the prize merely because of who endorsed them.

So what to do?

Burn it all down with block “NO AWARD” voting?

Simply take the ball and go home, leaving the Hugo/WorldCon circle jerk to stroke themselves until their little hands get tired, while creating a new award that focuses on actual skill, artistry, and good literature outside the Hugo construct?

Here’s the thing. I think that regardless of the disgusting display of SJW wankery that the Hugos have become, solid writing, good entertainment, and great storytelling should continue to be nominated. Sad Puppies wasn’t about old, white men, no matter what the shrieking shrews of the WorldCon clique claim. The Sad Puppy slate was more politically diverse than the mostly pasty, white milquetoast progressive winners (the human ones, not the “no award”) who walked away with Hugos this year. Women such as Toni Weisskopf, who got the most votes for best editor (long form) in the history of the award, and who was “no awarded,” because PUPPIES… Writer Megan Grey… editors Anne Sowards and Sheila Gilbert… editor Jennifer Brozek… fan writers Amanda Green and Cedar Sanderson…  And these ladies and gentlemen were nominated without a thought to what their politics were.

That’s what the Hugos were supposed to be about. Great writing. Great art.

What it turned into was the “Plastics” from “Mean Girls” wielding their popularity and willfully keeping others from their clique. Hell, they admitted as much.

And if you allow them to keep doing it, that’s exactly what they will do. The Hugos will be a desiccated carcass of what it was supposed to be. And fans who truly want to see a quality body of work represented will be sorely disappointed.

I wouldn’t want to be responsible for the death of an iconic award by simply refusing to fight. Would you?

If it were up to me, I’d keep nominating the best science fiction works I could possibly find – without regard to gender, race, politics, or anything else. Hell… I’d blindly read the works first and make my decision, and THEN figure out who the author is, if that were possible! But work to nominate the best! And then, if the pathetic plastics keep “no awarding” superlative nominees, then they will succeed in killing off quality and art all by themselves, as well as painting themselves to be the disgusting bigots that they are.

And the Sad Puppies won’t have to do anything but nominate the best works out there, which is what they did in the first place.

But to surrender and let it all just die, allowing them to declare victory?

Or to burn it all down by voting to ensure no winners?

I don’t know… just seems counterproductive and shitty somehow. Unconditional surrender sucks. Fighting for what is right even in the face of concerted prog-screeching seems like the honorable thing to do.

For those of you who follow the Hugos and the Sad Puppies controversy… (WITH ADDED LINKS)

18 Comments

I point you to this.  I haven’t seen a better write-up of SJW scummery or a more rational, logical discussion of why this year’s Hugo awards were an embarrassment and a black mark on science fiction writ large.

In the past, I have written extensively about the degree to which the Social Justice Left, rather like a schoolyard bully, began its fanatical crusade by targeting art forms and subcultures most often enjoyed by nerds, seeing them as a low status, easy target. If nerds are the “sad puppies,” then the Left saw them as proverbial Chihuahuas. Unfortunately, as the rise of the actual Sad Puppies and the year-long counter-crusade known as #Gamergate shows, these “puppies” are more like abused Dobermans that have been backed into a corner, and who are now mauling their tormentors. The Left’s #WaronNerds was supposed to be a blitzkrieg. It has become an overwhelming rout for those who instigated it.

However, perhaps due to war weariness or simple desire to avoid politics, many members of the gaming or Sci-Fi communities have tried to adopt a “why can’t we all just get along?” approach. They’ve tried to argue that the best solution is for their communities to have room for both social justice warriors and old school nerd traditionalists.

The Hugo Awards have shown us that this is impossible. The Social Justice Left will not be satisfied unless it has complete control over the spaces it infiltrates. If it cannot control a space, it will burn it down and salt the earth. If they could, they would probably torch every script of Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew for being anti-feminist, every score of Mozart’s The Magic Flute for its unflattering depiction of its one mulatto character, every print of Apelles’ Venus Anadyomene for catering to the male gaze, and every other work that portrays, or was written by, someone with objectionable politics. This book burning bonfire of the vacuous would be large enough to be seen from space, if the satellites weren’t taken down for being too phallic.

For the record, this is repellent.

For the record, I find that actively sabotaging great authors and editors and cheering their loss to a “NO AWARD” vote, because they happen to be exercising WrongThink or are supported by WrongFans is repellent.

For the record, I find that the fact that these bleating, pathetic mediocrities would rather actively facilitate a loss than see someone with whom they do not agree politically win an award, is beyond repellent.

They wield their social justice like a club with which they pummel anyone whom they consider guilty of WrongThink. But it’s not enough to oppose them. They must destroy them. And screw it, if the fans don’t like it! The RightFans will understand why it’s important to destroy any vestige of thought with which they disagree. Screw the rest of them.

And you know what? They’ve succeeded in //platform.twitter.com/widgets.js“>muzzling at least one sensitive, beautiful, feminine voice.

I can never again go to a ‘literary’ con and feel safe. These are the people who have spent months dragging people I know and respect through the mud, and my name with them. Calling me a token woman, and the other women who were on the ballot with me. Because we didn’t fit their narrative. I have no power, they have it all, and they revel in it. They have no qualms about punching down, making sure unwanted fans don’t get their noses into the establishment.

Today, they dance and celebrate, because they won. They won by voting no award as a bloc, while accusing the Sad Puppies of having done so.

[…]

Now? I’d be afraid to go to WorldCon. They have shown how they feel, and they will treat any threats to their position with… theft, suppression of free speech, mockery, and more. There are people who will never again be able to publish traditionally because of this. And not everyone has the options to be an independent, to have the freedom I so cherish.

And while the SJW scum dance about defeating those old, white men of science fiction, what they have defeated is a much more diverse, exciting, brilliant slate of authors and other literary professionals than they could ever possibly imagine! Certainly much more diverse than what actually took home an award this year!

Congrats, SJWs. You’ve certainly alienated this fan. I can promise you that not one more penny of my earnings will go to anything with which that smarmy fuck David Gerrold is involved. Not another penny to Tor publishing, whose employees seem to make regular sport of dragging those with whose politics they disagree (yes, Patrick Nielsen Hayden, you! Yes, Irene Gallo, you!). Not another penny to George R.R. Martin. And by the way, P-rick, you’re lucky John C. Wright’s wife is as kind as she is. I would have punched you in your smarmy fucking face had you gone off on me the way you did after I had approached you with an olive branch.

I told myself I would just point to the original article and be done with it. But apparently, I needed to get this off my chest. I’m repulsed by everything the social justice warriors stand for.

They are attempting to destroy art, literature, journalism, and performance and remake it into what THEY approve of, not what is beautiful, sensual, interesting, or innovative. They treasure the political message over what traditionally has made art and literature great. They attempt to destroy anything with which they don’t agree, anything that offends their tender sensibilities, and anything that’s created by those whom they revile.

They don’t care about art. They care about destroying the artist.

They don’t care about literature. They care about muzzling the author.

Screw them.

Just thought I’d also point you to some wonderful writers and people I consider friends and their takes on what I consider to be a debacle in the sci-fi world.

From Larry Correia, who started this Sad Puppy movement: Sad Puppies 3: Looking at the Results. You all really need to read this one, because you will understand fully and completely just how much fuckery was involved in this year’s Hugo Awards.

From the incredible Sarah A. Hoyt: Burning Down the Field in Order to Save It.

From freelance editor Matthew Bowman: The Hugos, Now With No Mask to Hide Behind.

From author Tom Knighton: My Thoughts on the Hugo Awards and From Me to Patrick Nielsen Hayden.

Author John C. Wright on P-rick’s unprofessional and downright disgusting behavior.

Mike Williamson: No Award.

Laughing Wolf has one up on Blackfive: The 2015 Hugo Awards: Some Thoughts.

There are more, and if I find worthy ones, I’ll post them here.

You’re Going to Hate Me for This Post

22 Comments

As many of you know, I’m not a typical conservative. Hell, I’m not a typical anything, really. I never was. I kind of do my own thing, and I have zero fucks to give if people don’t like it.

I’m a mass of contradictions. I love Camille Paglia, even though I may not agree with her on everything, and I hate the third-wave feminist douche tools. I hated the new Mad Max movie. I thought it was a cacophonous shitshow. I will spend my very last dime helping stray, abused, neglected animals and homeless people who just talk to me without demanding money, but I won’t give a dime to beggars who see it fit to demand my help. I strike up conversations with hobos, but at parties I’ll generally stand in a corner and not talk to anyone. I grew up on opera and Broadway music, and I didn’t even know what pop music was until I got to middle school. If you look at my iPhone, you will find a weird mix of Metallica, Evanescence, the music from the show “Nashville,” Snoop Dogg, Eminem, Josh Groban, Idina Menzel, and the music from “Glee.” I have a Broadway theater background. If you think I’m joking, I’m not. I played the Witch in “Into the Woods” my junior year in college. And yet, despite the brash stage presence, I’m one of the most introverted people you will ever meet.

Why did I just get into all that? Because there are quite a few fairly conservative readers of this blog, who will disagree with me on what I’m about to say: I saw the movie “Straight Outta Compton” on Sunday, and I loved it. I didn’t just like it. I absolutely loved it! And I know for many of you, that’s a shocking no-no. The misogyny. The violence. The disrespect for police. The culture. All of it. They glorify it, and the movie glorifies them.

The “them” in this case is N.W.A. or Niggaz Wit Attitudes – a rap group from Compton, CA – hence the movie title, which is also the title of their debut album, released in 1988.

The movie starred some relative unknowns, but also the great Paul Giamatti, who portrayed the group’s manager Jerry Heller with incredible delicacy, balance, and passion. Two of the group’s members, Dr. Dre and Ice Cube, left N.W.A. after accusing Heller of mismanaging the group and only taking care of one member: Eazy E – the late Eric Wright. Heller also apparently completely mismanaged Wright’s earnings in an effort to make himself an easy dime. Despite all this, Giamatti’s portrayal of Heller was part paternal (Wright was a street kid who dropped out of school and became a drug dealer), taking care of Eazy-E, encouraging, nurturing, and protecting him. The portrayal was also one of moral courage, challenging the establishment’s and law enforcement’s treatment of black kids from the ‘hood, exuding pain and outrage at the discrimination and abuses, as a Jewish person not so far historically removed from the Holocaust would. And at the same time, there’s no doubt that Giamatti’s characterization of Heller was one of a cunning, shrewd, unethical shyster. To strike that delicate balance between those personalities is difficult and rare, and Giamatti – a massive talent – did it flawlessly.

I’d never heard of Jason Mitchell prior to seeing this movie, but his portrayal of rapper Eazy E was nothing short of flawless. He showed Eazy as at once a drug-dealing, unscrupulous thug, a naive little kid, a man whore looking for his next conquest, a lost boy looking for someone to care for and guide him, and a fragile soul looking for someone to love him. And in the end, as he was dying of AIDS, Eric Wright was someone who learned some hard life lessons.

Both O’Shea Jackson, Jr. and Corey Hawkins were terrific as Ice Cube and Dr. Dre respectively. I was actually floored at how much Jackson looks like his dad (If you didn’t know, he’s the real life son of Ice Cube and this movie was his acting debut). There were a couple of times during the movie, where I had to do a double take, because I thought Ice Cube was on the screen! Hawkins’ performance as Dr. Dre was very respectful. He understood the character. The Julliard-trained actor sat down with Dre. He made an effort to get in his head and understand his influences, both musical and family, and he played Dre with a sensitivity that went beyond just acting.

Did the film “whitewash” Dre’s brushes with violence? Well… yes and no. The film wasn’t about Dre. It was about N.W.A. It wasn’t about individuals. It was about the group and how the individuals’ lives made the group pioneers in gangsta rap. I think focusing on Dre’s multiple convictions in cases of violence against women would have been out of place in this movie. Tossing that issue in there just to portray Dre in a more accurate light would have been superfluous. So instead, the film focused on what made Dre, Cube, and Eazy the people that they were, which ultimately led to the meteoric rise of N.W.A. If you want to call that “whitewashing,” go ahead. It showed Suge Knight for the twisted, hateful thug that he is. Those are things relevant to the story.

Yes, “Fuck tha Police” was hateful toward law enforcement. But you know what? Back then, law enforcement was hateful toward black youths in the nation’s ghettos. Racial profiling, violence, and outright brutality – Rodney King – that’s what influenced N.W.A.’s art. They rapped about what they saw. They pulled no punches. And judging by the reaction to their songs, they touched a nerve in a lot of people. Sure, things have changed for the better, but as I always tell those who insist on taking down Confederate flags, history needs to be remembered… warts and all. And no, I’m not getting into the history of the confederate flat or its controversy here. My point is that like them or not, hate their music or not, N.W.A. had an indelible effect on our nation’s culture. They highlighted the realities they faced growing up. And they stood up to police and government intimidation and attempts to limit their freedom of speech and expression the only way they knew how: through their art. Like them or not, they spoke to millions of people. And like them or not, they did more to protect our First Amendment rights than any legisleech in Washington DC has done in the past 30 years.

Law enforcement targeted them. A Minnesota Attorney General wanted to prosecute stores that sold their albums. Their songs were banned from radio. And politicians, being the opportunistic whores that they are, all rushed to denounce the group’s music – probably without real understanding of what the movement they started was really about. And while the FBI sent a letter to the group, supposedly speaking for the entire law enforcement community, condemning “Fuck tha Police,” they ultimately had to justify the blatant attempt at intimidation.

Whether you like the music or not… whether you agree with the lyrics or not… whether you consider them offensive or not, is irrelevant.

What they accomplished was bigger than just songs with a whole lot of offensive language and themes. And that definitely warrants its own bio pic in my book – especially one so wonderfully acted!


By the way, ff you want to watch my “Into the Woods” performance, you can do so below, and yes, that is definitely me.

Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: