Welcome to the Playpen, our space for ferrety banter and whimsical snippets of things that aren't quite long enough for articles (although they might be) but that caught your eye anyway.
I...I can't take this anymore.
I, too, have been reading Bakker's blog, but I have not been seeing any of this "pity party" that everyone else has been going on about here. Not a hint of it. What I have seen is someone who is no longer interested in valse's arguments (since, as he and others have made pretty damn clear, there really is nothing like a structured argument that can be properly reasoned and/or refuted in your complaints, is there, valse?), but is interested in the way she argues and its implications.
And then I come over here and I find you all crowing and sneering and congratulating valse on making a direct it, when it's crystal fucking clear that this is exactly the problem he is diagnosing.
valse, you are an asshole. I don't think you are nearly as smart as you think you are, and I also think you are so wrapped up in you sexuality and ethnicity issues that you can't think of anything else. When I read your blog, I see a whole lot of strutting and preening and yelling that cloaks some fairly dull commentary. You don't really seem to care about what a story is doing, as long as it involves marginalized groups, which I have always felt is a massively blinkered way at looking at art.
And the worst part? People here agree with you because you confirm their prejudices. If you wrote exactly the same way you do now, but were, say, a libertarian Baptist instead, everyone here would loathe you, and they would pick out the exact problems with the way you write that Bakker has. But because they agree with you, all that is pushed by the wayside. Which is a tragedy, because you are the last person I would listen to about gender, sexuality, or race issues.
(Oh, and when Bakker made the first of these new responses, why did you come over here and crow about it? Why the need to gloat?)
Bakker is a dick. But I find him more bearable than you.
(And in case anyone is wondering, this has been building for a while, but it was Shimmin's "Bakkker" that pushed me over the edge.)
I'll take you up on the swishy cloak. Maybe a false mustache too? Twirl twirl, swish swish. In the meantime a reader helpfully linked me to this post from Bakker. Something about writing serial rapists.
But yeah, I have no interest in Bakky as such and everything about the site is so offputting that I don't read it unless someone prompts me to. As always the comments are the icing.
I do like that he sees Valse as a kind of sinister mastermind single-handedly manipulating the world into not buying his books (even the vast majority of it that doesn't care about the internet, as Michal pointed out). We should get you a swishy cloak.
Bakker's meltdown may be simply embarrassing, but Peter Watts' vicarious defense of him is... something else. One-upping Bakker, at any rate, albeit with much fewer words.
I found the first book of the sequel series in a charity shop, bought it, had it sat on my shelf for some months, and then sold it again because I couldn't bring myself to care. I begin to think his japery on his blog is the first even moderately attention-grabbing writing he's done for years - for all the wrong reasons.
I haven't really followed the meltdown, so actually reading the link was...pretty bizarre. I'm kind of tickled by the thought of someone reading that without any context. Imagine if this was the first thing you ever read on Bakker's blog? "I'm e-stinky"? "I like the lay of your sausage, kid"?
He's posted two new blog posts since the last one which deal more or less exclusively with the subject and the issues arising from it - which makes it six posts in a row - but I wanted to bring everyone's attention to this charming story, because I cannot work out whether it's meant to be a capitulation or some sort of really oblique attack and I'm hoping the hivemind will help me work it out.
But training a teenager resembles too much real work and would require communication either verbally or then in writing, the first of which is unpleasant and the latter a bit too time consuming for Facebook status updates, or for searching Youtube for videos of that cat who likes to be in boxes.
(A joke, of course. I cannot in seriousness endorse the use of tacky modern inventions like the computer, the pen, or the opposable thumb)
Of course it makes it more difficult to read some more modern works, but I myself employ a team of monks to do the work of copying the text to a more acceptable form. Expensive, of course, but in some cases one really has to make an effort to maintain a touch of taste in one's milieu. Don't anyone bother to point the irony of me using as barbaric a method as a modern data computing contraption to point it out. We all have to make some sacrifices in this world.
I didn't mean to imply everybody has the same experience that I do (admitting
that I did accidentally sit on my Nook and destroy it not long ago and it was
very traumatic), but my point was that an ebook is only the text without
anything else, so by definition they're appealing to somebody who likes the
reading part above collector of objects part.
Ouch! Sorry to hear about your poor Nook; that's exactly the kind of thing I'd worry about if I had one. Anyway I ought to mention I prefer physical books pretty much exclusively for practical reasons; most of the ones I buy are cheap used paperbacks and not worth a damn as objets d'art. I'm leery of that kind of collecting in general.
I'm sure one is as annoying as the other.
I'd say so.
I've just now discovered Adam Roberts' reviews of Waste of Time, incidentally. Oh my. Jordan fans' reactions to that were nothing if not ridiculous.
It seems like he's writing a response to people who act like a preference for physical books is mature and sophisticated, while people who like ebooks are all subliterate members of the twitter generation.
Huh. So far, in actual day-to-day life, I've only encountered people who act like preference for ebooks is hip and modern, while people who like paper books are Luddites retarding the rate of Glorious Progress. (As discussed by Ursula K. le Guin)
I'm sure one is as annoying as the other.