Some posts about the recent Hugo self-immolation by the clique of self-congratulation:
If there are any honest columns, or even a column not choked to the brim with lies, from the viewpoint of our dishonorable and lying-ass attackers, I would surely link to it.
There are none. Even columnists who perhaps imagine themselves to be neutral or balanced blithely fall into the orchestrated falsehoods, and do not admit what this struggle has always been about:
We are attempting to pry the control of the Hugos out of the hand of a clique or Inner Ring run by Patrick Nielsen Hayden for the benefit of his abortive antichristian ideology and the fiscal benefit (which, at one time there was to be had for publishing Hugo Award winning works), and return control to the fans.
We wanted it to stop being the Tor Award for Political Correctness and to return to being the Hugo Award.
Since I am a Tor author who was benefited by this arrangement, no unseemly fiscal motive can be attributed to me: I was acting against my own financial interests, and still am. I love science fiction more than I love Tor Books, which is saying a lot. It grieves me that the greatest publisher in the field would be so desperately and forcefully committed to the corruption of the field, and riding the decline into the abyss of irrelevance.
Our motives are precisely what we said, both seriously and in jest.
Seriously, we thought and said that limiting the award to the radical-feminist Intersection-Theory Critical-Theory homonormative crap that the Inner Ring likes damages the brand and threatens to turn science fiction into one more postmodern wasteland of dreary garbage, neither edifying nor entertaining.
When is the last time an award winning science fiction tale or related work had even an iota of real science in it? THE MARTIAN by Weir was crammed with diamond hard science. It won nothing.
When is the last time an award winning science fiction tale had profound literary merit, seeped in the traditions of Western epic and romance from the classical period to now? My one THE GOLDEN AGE was both imaginative and rooted in the classics. It won nothing.
When is the last time an award winning science fiction tale was fun? Read HARD MAGIC by Larry Correia. It won nothing.
In jest, we said that the leading cause of sadness syndrome in cute furry puppies was the predominance of brain-meltingly absurd uberleftist ideological agitprop being rocketed to the top of the most prestigious awards in the field, and we asked for the sake of the puppies to grant awards based on merit.
This is not about conservative versus liberal.
The Morlocks are not liberals, except in the sense that they use the liberal vocabulary to express their illiberal ideas. And, of the four founding members of the Evil Legion of Evil Authors who decided to stand up to the Inner Ringwraiths, I am the only social and political conservative properly so called.
This is not about white males versus minorities.
Again, of the founding four, I am the only white male. (For those of you racists who insist we call carry an Ahnenpass, the others are Female, Hispanic, American Indian).
This is not about fun adventure fiction versus highbrow literary fiction.
I write highbrow literary fiction more filled with allusion and philosophical depth than anything the Morlocks recommend. Each time they claim to be what I am, an refined aesthete of exquisite literary accomplishment, another imp in hell laughs in the delight and the Empire of Lies grows another inch. Unlike the poseurs and pretend intellectuals, however, I can also read, admire and applaud wrecked but well meant pulp fiction and lowbrow fun. Because I am human and I like humans, whereas the Morlocks regard humans as food animals.
This is not about returning to the past of John W. Campbell versus the wondrous new future promised by Michael Moorcock and the New Wave, or whatever. This is not about rebels versus reactionaries.
Good fiction is timeless, and politically correct excremental sludge the Morlocks favor is never good fiction, it is merely propaganda in the service of a faction with no taste for science fiction and no taste for fiction and no taste. Indeed, if anything, the New Wave mavins, still trapped in the mindset of Woodstock, are the reactionaries. They have not noticed that, ever since STAR WARS hit the silver screen, and HALO hit the computer screen, the genre has changed forever.
We said this over and over again. We all said it. Everything we did was aboveboard, and in the open, and honest. And the Morlocks vomited up so many lies in a blitzkrieg of Alinskyite shitstormtrooper tactics, that many a disinterested passerby, not even aware that there was another side to the argument, is and remains deceived.
The passersby think that we boasted about logrolling, votebuying, and ballotbox stuffing, and that our motive was the creation of the Fourth Reich: that was the narrative, and the Morlocks will die before they admit otherwise, because to admit otherwise is tantamount to admitting our charges of corruption are correct.
So, no, there is not a single column, perhaps not even a single paragraph, of honest reporting from the other side. For a time, I thought that perhaps Mike Glyer of File 770 might prove to be a man of such character as to be able to look at both sides of the issue. He is not.
For an hour, I thought perhaps George RR Martin, a man with whom I have worked on two projects, or more, might prove to be an honest broker above the fray, and able to reconcile the factions, able to have a civil discussion. He did not. He surrendered entirely to malice, and claims I and mine must be excluded from fandom, because we were never fans to begin with. The man with more Hugos than Heinlein claims the system is not corrupt.
There is some freak at the Guardian whose name I forget who is the first to earn the name Morlock from me. He is brain damaged, but not due to physical damage to his nerve cells, but due to the spiritual damage ongoing devotion darkness, madness and lies eventually creates. I mention him only to mock him, but I cannot recall his name. Walters? Walter? Something like that.
One inaccuracy in the Lew Rockwell article: I was up for six, not seven, nominations, and after one of stories ever was correctly disqualified this meant I had five nominations, not six. Read the remainder of this entry »