laguera25: Dug from UP! (Default)
( Sep. 13th, 2013 08:48 pm)
One thousand and sixteen words today.

I had my face up against the glass in the histrionic, vituperative slapfight between VonBerlichnignen and Iroto-chan on RR. Sadly, the choicest bits of shit-flinging have been erased from existence in the name of harmony and order, but man, was it some quality bile.

I think both of them are being condescending, defensive, and blind. I have no idea what Till sees in Sophia Thomalla besides tits, ass, and a hole to stick it in, but frankly, it's not my business, and it's certainly not a betrayal of trust or some grand revelation of falsity on his part. A person can be talented, thoughtful, and private and still want to dip his wick into any old wet hole he finds. The two are not mutually exclusive states of being. To take a fictional example, I love Eomer to bits, but I can bet he wasn't out there laying the Rohan steel to the tavern wench with four teeth and a peg leg because she had a kind heart. Nope. He was a good and noble man, and he still went for the fair princess of Ithilien with the hint of Elvish blood. Why? Because everyone is a shallow goober who wants to bone the prettiest partner eligible. It doesn't make them terrible or deceitful. It makes them human. Besides, I don't remember Till saying brains were the first thing he looked for in a partner. And I don't think he gives a single damn about looking "bad" or pathetic to butthurt, concern-trolling fangirls on the Internet.
Amazingly, this discussion on RR has interesting things to say about Rammstein, "Pussy", and sexism. Most of the comments were quite thoughtful, though Beekay inexplicably got a few snitty digs in about the thread's creation. When the OP failed to rise to her bait, she subsided quickly.

I haven't heard the interview under discussion, so I can't comment on it, but the discussion it generated is worth a read.
With Rammstein on break, the bandom is equally quiet, though there was a rumor that they reshot the video for "Mein Herz Brennt". Said rumor is based on the fact that there are two dates listed for the year of its production, 2011 and 2012. It seems scanty evidence for such a theory, but anything is possible, and if it keeps the fannish blood moving, then more power to it.

It was certainly a kinder discussion than the dogpile on Rosenrot when someone with lots of opinions on Sophia Tomalla decided to voice them loudly. How dare she, the shit-stirrer! I must say, I was surprised to see Beekay defending the pariah's right to vent her spleen, though I laughed at her insistence that Rosenrot didn't drum posters out for having unpopular opinions.

The PC humor thread was even funnier. LOL LOL LOL.


I started Part XX of Sprache last night and added thirteen hundred words to my latest Flacknum opus, so writing is going well. When not tapping the keys in the service of imaginary worlds, I'm watching walkthroughs of Starfox Adventures and Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver 2. The latter is visually lush but saturated with fulsome cutscenes of convoluted philosophizing. Jesus Christ, Raziel, stop pontificating and obliterate some mutant vampires and genocidal humans.
In the Schneider thread on the Rosenrot forum, speculation arises that Christoph might be an ova vegetarian. Schneiderzgirl makes this fairly innocuous comment:

Such glorious beauty!!! Huzzah to him being ova vegan. Not a bad move at all. :)

Nothing wrong with this, one would think, though Beekay arrives to point out that there is a difference between vegan and ova vegetarian:

@ Schgrl: Chevra said: "Schneider is ova vegetarian..." In other words, he is not a vegan.

Then Chevra sharpens her claws with this bit of cattiness:

In other words Schneiderzgirl get your facts right. Still craving that hot dog?

Oh, and Vegans do not eat what is on on a Vegetarian diet solely. There is much more involved in the Vegan diet. But you have claimed to be Vegan... so you must know, right?


I'm not sure what the possibility of Schneiderzgirl craving a hot dog has to do with the discussion at hand, since she never mentioned any hot dog--or any other meat, for that matter. Nor do I understand why "Vegan" and Vegetarian" are capitalized. They aren't an alien race with a blanket honorific, nor are they heads of state. I suppose it's to lend them an air of artificial importance. I'm also going to assume a history between Chevra and Schneiderzgirl, because that's a whole lot of asswipe for a little bit of harmless squee.
In the Schneider thread on the Rosenrot forum, speculation arises that Christoph might be an ova vegetarian. Schneiderzgirl makes this fairly innocuous comment:

Such glorious beauty!!! Huzzah to him being ova vegan. Not a bad move at all. :)

Nothing wrong with this, one would think, though Beekay arrives to point out that there is a difference between vegan and ova vegetarian:

@ Schgrl: Chevra said: "Schneider is ova vegetarian..." In other words, he is not a vegan.

Then Chevra sharpens her claws with this bit of cattiness:

In other words Schneiderzgirl get your facts right. Still craving that hot dog?

Oh, and Vegans do not eat what is on on a Vegetarian diet solely. There is much more involved in the Vegan diet. But you have claimed to be Vegan... so you must know, right?


I'm not sure what the possibility of Schneiderzgirl craving a hot dog has to do with the discussion at hand, since she never mentioned any hot dog--or any other meat, for that matter. Nor do I understand why "Vegan" and Vegetarian" are capitalized. They aren't an alien race with a blanket honorific, nor are they heads of state. I suppose it's to lend them an air of artificial importance. I'm also going to assume a history between Chevra and Schneiderzgirl, because that's a whole lot of asswipe for a little bit of harmless squee.
Domina Dani Elfman makes this post in the Rosenrot rant thread:

My health is deteriorating even more so now. Today I have to go get uterine ultrasounds to check if I have serious fibroid tumours because I've been having severe and prolonged periods that keep me almost bedridden. One of the medications I was just put on, burns the Hell out of my mouth - turns my inner lips, roof of the mouth, area under the tongue, and tongue itself a bright and very raw red. Hurts like I scalded it! That medication also makes me a very angry and mean person, and I don't want this! I'm so sick and tired of all this . . . so I did something I never thought I would do again - chain smoking worse than Reesh.

To which Chevra replies:

I thought you said you went on a shopping spree last week? Did you have pain meds?

Yes, because no one with chronic pain or illness should ever leave the house or do anything that brings them some measure of respite and joy. They should just remain in their home with the drapes closed, quietly enduring. If you ever have a good day, you're obviously not sick enough to deserve empathy.
Domina Dani Elfman makes this post in the Rosenrot rant thread:

My health is deteriorating even more so now. Today I have to go get uterine ultrasounds to check if I have serious fibroid tumours because I've been having severe and prolonged periods that keep me almost bedridden. One of the medications I was just put on, burns the Hell out of my mouth - turns my inner lips, roof of the mouth, area under the tongue, and tongue itself a bright and very raw red. Hurts like I scalded it! That medication also makes me a very angry and mean person, and I don't want this! I'm so sick and tired of all this . . . so I did something I never thought I would do again - chain smoking worse than Reesh.

To which Chevra replies:

I thought you said you went on a shopping spree last week? Did you have pain meds?

Yes, because no one with chronic pain or illness should ever leave the house or do anything that brings them some measure of respite and joy. They should just remain in their home with the drapes closed, quietly enduring. If you ever have a good day, you're obviously not sick enough to deserve empathy.
laguera25: Dug from UP! (Default)
( Apr. 23rd, 2011 06:43 pm)
I can add a new strongbox to the list of things to buy before I leave on my odyssey. Roomie unlocked it this morning, and when he tried to lock it again, the lock refused to engage and just turned uselessly. I'm just glad it didn't lock and refuse to open, since it holds my important papers and my trip cache, and I can just imagine trying to convince a dubious locksmith to open a box full of cash and identification and family photos.

We went to lunch today, and while there, a group of teenagers going to the prom came in to eat. Oh, my God, but this one girl's dress was so awful. I'm not a fashion maven, and since I have lived in Florida and the South my entire life, I have borne witness to many misbegotten fashion misstatements--mullets, no shirt, shorts, and ratty flip flops and biballs with nothing underneath them are particular favorites around here--but this dress...

It was a dress made from the blue-rinse hipster art deco curtains in a Ft. Lauderdale podiatrist's office. It was a splatter of colors overlaid by black squiggles, as if an excited toddler had decided to improve the design by drawing on it with mommy's mascara wand. The front was a miniskirt that barely concealed her mother of pearl, while the back was a long, heavy trane that bunched at the back like a crinoline and dragged the ground. The top was a mesmerizing disco-ball bustier trimmed in Tweety Bird, and rather than support her breasts, it squashed them together so that they resembled the sagging bustline of a matronly retiree. It was so dreadful, and its hideousness was only accentuated by the loveliness of the girl wearing it.

The girl was so excited by the dress that she showed it off to anyone she could, and all I could think was, "But it looks like the 80s threw up in your lap and then called their friend Crayola to clean it up, and all they did was smear it around." The young girl was so radiant, though, and trying so hard to be a lady as she sat there with her date and her best friend and her best friend's date. I remembered how big a deal the prom was at my school, and how all the girls spent months worrying about whether they'd get asked, and then, once they were asked, they spent months fretting over what to wear and how to style their hair and if their folks would spring for a limo instead of making them drive the embarrassing family car. The guys played it cool, but the Sacino's at the mall was mobbed by awkward, sidling young men trying to look manly in tuxes and only looking gangly and uncomfortable.

Sure, the dress was ugly, but this is a rural backwater with very few shops and fewer social events. Maybe this was her only chance to get dressed up and be a princess for the evening. Maybe the dress was one of the few within her price range, or maybe it was her mother's or maybe her mother made it, staying up late into the night at the sewing machine and doing the best she could with what she had. Maybe she made it.

The young men, oh, the young men. They were both in solid black, silk tuxes with golden accents. They looked like an all-male Mormon revue. The young gentleman escorting Art-deco had tanned so obsessively that he looked varnished, and it clashed horribly with his Draco Malfoy dye job and California shag cut. The people here constantly sniff and turn up their noses at the "city folk" and their airs, but they try so hard to emulate them, and the results are bewildering and hilarious. But like the girl, the young man was trying so hard to be sophisticated and impress her. Alas, both their attempts at polished adulthood were undermined by cooing mothers snapping photos and by the presence of a niece or little sister who kept slipping out of her chair to wander over to their table and show off her tights and flip flops and pick salad off big sister's plate.

I think that we adults often forget what a hard, dreadful, awkward business growing up is, and how much harder we make it. I hope those young ladies and their young men have a wonderful time.

That dress was still ugly.


Prithee, would someone please enlighten me? Since when is this:




Considered pudgy or fat? No wonder this country has body-image issues and a huge problem with eating disorders.
laguera25: Dug from UP! (Default)
( Apr. 23rd, 2011 05:48 pm)
I can add a new strongbox to the list of things to buy before I leave on my odyssey. Roomie unlocked it this morning, and when he tried to lock it again, the lock refused to engage and just turned uselessly. I'm just glad it didn't lock and refuse to open, since it holds my important papers and my trip cache, and I can just imagine trying to convince a dubious locksmith to open a box full of cash and identification and family photos.

We went to lunch today, and while there, a group of teenagers going to the prom came in to eat. Oh, my God, but this one girl's dress was so awful. I'm not a fashion maven, and since I have lived in Florida and the South my entire life, I have borne witness to many misbegotten fashion misstatements--mullets, no shirt, shorts, and ratty flip flops and biballs with nothing underneath them are particular favorites around here--but this dress...

It was a dress made from the blue-rinse hipster art deco curtains in a Ft. Lauderdale podiatrist's office. It was a splatter of colors overlaid by black squiggles, as if an excited toddler had decided to improve the design by drawing on it with mommy's mascara wand. The front was a miniskirt that barely concealed her mother of pearl, while the back was a long, heavy trane that bunched at the back like a crinoline and dragged the ground. The top was a mesmerizing disco-ball bustier trimmed in Tweety Bird, and rather than support her breasts, it squashed them together so that they resembled the sagging bustline of a matronly retiree. It was so dreadful, and its hideousness was only accentuated by the loveliness of the girl wearing it.

The girl was so excited by the dress that she showed it off to anyone she could, and all I could think was, "But it looks like the 80s threw up in your lap and then called their friend Crayola to clean it up, and all they did was smear it around." The young girl was so radiant, though, and trying so hard to be a lady as she sat there with her date and her best friend and her best friend's date. I remembered how big a deal the prom was at my school, and how all the girls spent months worrying about whether they'd get asked, and then, once they were asked, they spent months fretting over what to wear and how to style their hair and if their folks would spring for a limo instead of making them drive the embarrassing family car. The guys played it cool, but the Sacino's at the mall was mobbed by awkward, sidling young men trying to look manly in tuxes and only looking gangly and uncomfortable.

Sure, the dress was ugly, but this is a rural backwater with very few shops and fewer social events. Maybe this was her only chance to get dressed up and be a princess for the evening. Maybe the dress was one of the few within her price range, or maybe it was her mother's or maybe her mother made it, staying up late into the night at the sewing machine and doing the best she could with what she had. Maybe she made it.

The young men, oh, the young men. They were both in solid black, silk tuxes with golden accents. They looked like an all-male Mormon revue. The young gentleman escorting Art-deco had tanned so obsessively that he looked varnished, and it clashed horribly with his Draco Malfoy dye job and California shag cut. The people here constantly sniff and turn up their noses at the "city folk" and their airs, but they try so hard to emulate them, and the results are bewildering and hilarious. But like the girl, the young man was trying so hard to be sophisticated and impress her. Alas, both their attempts at polished adulthood were undermined by cooing mothers snapping photos and by the presence of a niece or little sister who kept slipping out of her chair to wander over to their table and show off her tights and flip flops and pick salad off big sister's plate.

I think that we adults often forget what a hard, dreadful, awkward business growing up is, and how much harder we make it. I hope those young ladies and their young men have a wonderful time.

That dress was still ugly.


Prithee, would someone please enlighten me? Since when is this:




Considered pudgy or fat? No wonder this country has body-image issues and a huge problem with eating disorders.
Beekay once again shows her ass, this time in the "Totally Random Thoughts" thread.

^ The Echo awards pics?

I wonder if Till sings his new gf a lullabye - last thing at night, before he tucks her in with her teddy bear? :wink:


The shining wit, it slays me.
Beekay once again shows her ass, this time in the "Totally Random Thoughts" thread.

^ The Echo awards pics?

I wonder if Till sings his new gf a lullabye - last thing at night, before he tucks her in with her teddy bear? :wink:


The shining wit, it slays me.
Beekay in the Rammstein Media thread in response to the tabloid frenzy over Till's new lover:

She's getting much-desired publicity in her attempts to be more than a sexy undies "model" - and he's getting his much-loved fresh & tight-skinned T&A. Mutually beneficial.

I wonder if his daughters have already "thrown up a little in the back of their throats" when they heard Papa is banging a girl (around) their ages? :um:


You keep it classy, Beekay.
Beekay in the Rammstein Media thread in response to the tabloid frenzy over Till's new lover:

She's getting much-desired publicity in her attempts to be more than a sexy undies "model" - and he's getting his much-loved fresh & tight-skinned T&A. Mutually beneficial.

I wonder if his daughters have already "thrown up a little in the back of their throats" when they heard Papa is banging a girl (around) their ages? :um:


You keep it classy, Beekay.
laguera25: Dug from UP! (Default)
( Mar. 18th, 2011 06:44 pm)
You know, as many issues as I have with Rammstein's management when it comes to their powers of North American promotion, this story of fannish alarm-raising is too dubious even for me. From Rammstein Honeymoon on Rosenrot:

I sent a message to Finger about the lack of promo for the North American tour and he was under the impression that they were all sold out already and because of that, no promotion was neccessary. I explained that I realize that promo is not his job but the shows are not sold out and someone within Rammstein management should know.

So...you've got Finger's email address? Okay, I might be able to buy that. Stranger things have happened. But...isn't Finger Till's body man, the same body man that fandom swore was leaving the Rammstein organization after the MSG show? In fact, fen reported that Till was so upset by the loss of his trusted friend that he spent much of the NYC afterparty(an afterparty that Guitarzk had heard from Richard himself wasn't going to happen, trufax)that he spent it in a dour drunk and had to be helped out by Nele. That Finger. A guy who, according to fen, hasn't been with the organization since December.

You emailed a guy who supposedly doesn't work for the band anymore to complain about the lack of promotion, and even though he supposedly doesn't work for the band anymore, he's worried enough to raise the issue with management.

Bullshit.

This story is so full of holes. Either this woman is being duped, or the fannish grapevine that was so sure Finger was leaving the band's employ got it wrong.

A few problems:

-If Finger left Rammstein's employ in December, then he wouldn't be in a position to raise the issue of promotion with them.

-If he didn't leave the band's employ, then the fact remains that Finger is part of the band's security detail and might not have anything to do with promotional affairs.

-There is no way that Pilgrim isn't well goddamn aware of how the tickets are moving. According to a large part of this bandom, Pilgrim are control freaks who know exactly how many condoms a band member has on his person at a given time or how many pubes Olli left on the toilet seat the last time he visited the loo. The same person spouting this story also offered up a rambling, cryptic anecdote about how Rammstein granted some radio producer named Mike Sullivan an interview in Quebec, and then forbade him from disseminating the interview anywhere because the band had been burned so often by negative press. One then wonders why the hell they granted the interview in the first place, but never mind.

So now I'm supposed to believe that this legendarily meticulous, controlling group of micromanagers has no idea how many tickets they've sold and have been walking around for several weeks under the mistaken impression that the shows were sold out, thereby relieving them of the need to do further promotion.

Lie harder next time. Say you emailed Emu.
A first and final pimp for Part XV of Sprache: PartXVb. It's a link to the second half, but as usual, the link to the first can be found in the list of links above the chapter.

And now, it's on to the next part of my NYC odyssey.

For once, I agree with Beekay on something. I know. I needed a lie-down after that realization myself. On what do we agree? Over the the Rosenrot forums, Rammstein Honeymoon points out the lack of promotion for the Toronto show:

A Sign that the End Is Nigh )

So, according to OOMPH! fans, the albums from Sperm to Plastik are the best, so perhaps I'll give them a try first.

Dear Youtube commenter,

Way to imply that OOMPH! is a band of pedophiles and pederasts. Just because the band frequently features children in their videos, that doesn't make them sexual predators. It just means that they, like many other creative people, have realized that children who are not yours are often strange, fey, unsettling creatures who can be used to inject unease or pathos into any situation.

While I might be able to swallow the remote possibility that one member of the band was a pervert who preyed on children if I cut off the blood supply to my brain, I simply cannot fathom that an entire band and everyone in their video crews is a roving gang of molesters who get their jollies by kiddie fiddling young children on crowded video sets. Please loosen your underwear and engage your brain.
Just when I thought the comments on Richard Kruspe's battle with depression couldn't get more mind-boggling, enter Reeshybuns with this opinion:

Unpopular Opinion Ahead:

Excuse me if I don't feel bad for a guy who has millions of dollars, gets to do his dream job, has a family, is relatively healthy, and has a bunch of people who adore him. Boo hoo, you had a bad childhood. So have a lot of other people. A lot of people have depression, and you know what? They deal with it.


To an extent, s/he(I forget if the OP identifies as male or female), has a point. Millions of people do battle depression, and millions do deal with it on a daily basis, but those anonymous millions don't have the platform that Kruspe does to put a voice and a face to what can be a struggle waged in ignominious silence. If Richard had just randomly started discussing his battle with the illness while he was supposed to be promoting the tour or the album, I could, if I turned my head and squinted, understand the vitriol, but he was specifically asked to discuss his struggle for a documentary on depression, so getting all emo-edgy and butthurt with him for graciously accommodating the request and exposing himself to the possibility of judgment and contempt serves no purpose.

Either you want mental illness to be discussed and destigmatized, or you don't. The only way to de-stigmatize it is to discuss and humanize it, and the only way to do that is for people who battle it to open up. Calling them whiners when they do and being butthurt because their plight gets more attention than you think it should is staggeringly shortsighted.
Yesterday while toobing around in the pictures forum on Rosenrot, I found this lovely picture of Richard:



He looks nice, right? Relaxed, in a good mood, clean.

Apparently, according to some posters, he looks, as they so kindly put it, like "SNR", or "Special Needs Richard."

Der Metzgermeister even offers this choice quote of paternalistic bullshit:

I see him and I want to help him cross the street or cut his meat.

I read this and want to punch people in the face.

So, because he looks happy and zen, he looks like a person with "special needs"? Fuck you. Not everyone with cognitive disabilities is a docile rube incapable of having a bad mood or varied facial expressions. Some of them are well aware of their limitations and are frustrated by them. This means they have bad days and the ability to register and display anger, sadness, frustration, and just plain assholery. Many of them are also keenly aware of the condescension that drips from able people like piss down a drunkard's leg.

Intellectual disability doesn't necessarily mean that you're incapable of basic or even moderate self-care and autonomy; it means that you often need guidance when making advanced decisions, like whether or not to let the skeevy salesman talk you into buying that Nova with the rusty carburetor or the $300 penis enlargement cream. It means you might need someone to remind you to take your medications or put out your trash. It does not automatically mean that you need help cutting your food or crossing the street; and just because you need help cutting your meat or crossing the street, that doesn't make you intellectually-impaired. I need help doing both those things and many more, and I am confident that I could outwit most of the posters on that board with scant effort. In fact, sixty percent of people with mild to moderate CP that does not affect cognitive function are shown to be of above-average intelligence, with twenty percent rated as genius. The military tapped me to drive tanks for them until I asked if the tanks were accessible. That was an awkward and hilarious conversation.

Disabled doesn't mean dumb, and cognitive disability doesn't mean helpless. If anyone of those knobs took it upon themselves to cut my meat or help me cross the street without my consent, they'd end up with a thumb to the eye and a fist to the crotch, because I'm not a living karma point for use when they need to boost their flagging self-image.

Fuck the entitled lot of them. I would thank Gooberengel666, but alas, I am banned. Bless her for speaking up, though I suspect she's going to be shouted down.

FWIW, I would hug Richard if I saw him like that, but not because he looks "special." He looks fresh and handsome, and that hoodie/sweatshirt looks warm and cuddly. Blue is a good color for him.

ETA: When Gooberengel666 points out the offensiveness of all the "special needs" jibes:

Seriously, whats with the "special needs"? It's kind of offensive to someone who has a loved one who is special needs...Is there really a need for a sweetened up version of saying "Richard looks retarded again?"

Der Metzgermeister responds:

It's just good fun. Nobody is seriously insinuating Richard has any sort of mental defect.

Well, of course not, because if he did have a "mental defect", then clearly, he would be less value and no one would want to suck his dick or perv over his ass. Assholes.
I now have heat. Consistent, reliable heat. The heating tech arrived today and began poking inside the heater's guts and promptly discovered two problems: the thermostat PC had installed a few years ago was actually a high-voltage model designed for industrial chillers, and the sequencer was bad. The sequencer actually crumbled in his hand when he removed it.

He replaced the incorrect thermostat with a basic digital model that displays the current temperature inside the house so that we can determine where to set the heat and replaced the disintegrating sequencer. Bless that bear of a man. I no longer have to freeze my ass ass off because the heater cannot recognize that it's forty degrees inside. It's been on since he left, and I'm snug as a bug in a rug even after a shower. This is how life should be, not a constant struggle of scrimping and freezing and deciding between basic necessities like warmth and cleanliness.

But hey, lest I get too happy, there was bonus Mom!fail. After the heater tech left, my mother said, "I was surprised it cost so little. I was worried it was going to cost three hundred or more."

Translation for those unfamiliar with my mother's particularly noisome dialect of fail: "If it had cost three hundred or more, you would still be freezing your misbegotten ass off, but because it was cheap and he uttered the magical incantation of 'resale value', you get to be comfortable."

Gee, thanks, Mom, but what should I expect from the woman who's spent the last week warning me of the dire dangers of Atlanta, because you know, they have "problems with all the blacks."? Yes, Mom, because only black people commit crimes. Never mind John Wayne Gacy, Jeffrey Dahmer, Ted Bundy, the Hillside Stranger, Richard Ramirez, Jim Jones, David Koresh, those festering wastes of skin just up the road who allowed their disabled daughter to be raped, beaten to death, and dismembered because the stepmother was tired of "putting up with her constant needs." Those lily-white folks. Or the father in Michigan who murdered his three sons just so his wife couldn't have them. Nope. All crime is committed by those nasty, uncivilized black people who lust after white women and drive down property values.


On a less weighty note, while I don't at all miss Beekay or her histrionics, I do feel cut off from much of Rammstein fandom since my expulsion from Rosenrot. Like it or not, it is one of the more active Rammsites on the Internet. The others are largely stagnant and moribund, but Rosenrot is still vital. I'm not sorry I spoke up against the bigoted attitudes that permeated those boards, and I would do it again if need be, but it's strange to be excluded from fannish discourse. SMM has helped with the feeling of dislocation, but it's hardly been a hotbed of activity. Lots of people signed up, but few have posted, and the only people making new threads are mods and admins. Who knows if it will survive at this point?

I made my choice, and I'll live with it now and take comfort in the fact that I didn't stay quiet because it wasn't my problem, or because I was too much a coward to speak my mind.
I'm not sure how I feel about being banned from Rosenrot. Nearly all of the friends I made there have migrated to my LJ, so few ties have been severed. I'm not sad or even angry. As much as I disagree with Beekay on most issues, Rosenrot is her forum to run as she sees fit, no matter how asinine her policies might appear to others. The Internet is, alas, not the U.S. government, and if she wants to ban members for comments made on other sites and fora, then that is her prerogative, and one I will respect.

However, I am bewildered that I was banned for comments made outside the forum. I could understand it if those comments were designed to incite action against the board or disrupt others' ability to use the board for its intended purpose, but they weren't. If they had been, I would have posted them on the boards. I'm not shy once roused. They were made in the neutral space of my journal to express my vehement disagreement with her ableist, homophobic leanings and her haphazard application of unwritten rules of which the membership is unaware. Had I known that Rosenrot was like Fight Club and not to be discussed beyond its virtual confines, then I would have abided by those rules, anathema though I find them. I didn't know; how could I have known when no such writ existed in the posted rules, and when the admin clearly regards content from other sites as fair game for inclusion when deciding upon a course of disciplinary action?

Guera's Internet credo has always gone like this:

1. Anything posted on a public forum--website, unlocked Facebook entries, and public LJ entries--is open for reposting and discussion so long as the source is credited. And yes, discussion includes criticism.

2. Publicly divulging emails, flocked posts, or PMs is a scummy thing to do. The only exception to this pertains to PMs regarding clarification of board policies. For example, if Beekay had responded to my message about ableist attitudes on the board with personal information about herself, a friend, or a family member, I would not have posted it here, but since it clarified her ableist mindset and attacked me for voicing my concerns, I felt no compunction about posting it here, as it pertained to a very public discourse.

3. Views expressed on one forum should not be used to ban someone from another unless those views constitute a threat against the second forum and its members. For instance, if someone came to my LJ and said, "I think you're a loathsome jerk with a swollen head, and your fic blows," then I wouldn't invite that person to my parties, but I would not ban them from my LJ or from forums I moderated or maintained. I don't have to like everyone with whom I share Internet space. I can, in fact, think them a complete knob and still give them room to speak.

If, however, a person says, "I hate you, and I'm going to burn your house down and rape your smoldering carcass," then I am reaching for the banhammer. People have a right to be safe from harm, and only a yutz would invite an obvious threat into their midst.

Criticizing board policies, pointing out raging hypocrisy, and slamming someone's fic as drek do not constitute a credible threat to safety of the board. The first two are embarrassing and irritating, and the last is unkind, but contrary to the bleating of so many, being critical and unkind in one's assessment of fannish output is not bullying, trolling, or threatening. Back in the days before the preservation of the bubble was paramount, it was called having a difference of opinion, and save for extreme cases, it was not viewed as a blow against civilization and the cult of self-esteem.

I was not trolling or disrupting the board, and for Beekay to use that as the reason for my banning is laughable. She should have simply manned up and said, "I'm banning you because I think you're a cunt and wouldn't offer you water if you were dying." Instead, she listed trolling as the reason for my dismissal. Better yet, none of my posts list me as BANNED, and so, for all intents and purposes, it looks like I've crawled away in shame.

Once again, if anyone can still use the Rosenrot message system, please let Duchess 2.0. know that she can contact me here. I thought she was [livejournal.com profile] caecus_parvulus, but I'm not sure, and I don't want her to think I'm blowing her off about possibly hooking up on the way to NYC.
Beekay has just banned me from Rosenrot for "trolling". I was given no warning for this and have never trolled the board, and so I can only presume that a fanpoodle tipped her to entries made here in my journal. Either that, or she decided that being a mod on a small Rammstein forum meant that I would surreptitiously work against Rosenrot. Either way, I'm done there.

If anyone knows of an alternate means by which to contact Duchess 2.0., let me know, as we were trying to make arrangements for NYC.
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