Hi, I just want to clarify that yes, I have accidentally followed some terfs/liked some feminist posts on blogs which turned out to be run by terfs after mass following feminist blogs in an attempt to educate myself on feminism. This doesn’t mean that I symphatize with terfs/am a terf – it simply means that I wasn’t careful with checking the exact views of each feminist blog before following. I am unfollowing the terfs as soon as I spot them and the only reason why I have followed them/liked their posts in the first place has been because I didn’t know they were terfs. I am not a terf and I will always do my best to support and include trans women.
Liking or even reblogging a post does not mean you endorse ALL the views the original poster has. You are under no obligation to research each posters history, personality, etc, before liking or reblogging a post.
A reblog means you want THAT post to be seen and discussed, not everything the OP ever said ever anyplace.
Don’t feel bad that you can’t spend hours a day researching the history of every person you interact with. It’s not a reasonable requirement.
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gogomrbrown: Don’t think they want it either way. They want him to just not exist…
moonlight winning was not justice for brokeback mountain and carol
it was justice for the color purple
yall i am fuckin heated rn
the color purple was nominated for 10(11?) oscars and won ZERO. not a single fuckin oscar despite being critically acclaimed by like, everybody at the time in 1985. not even a goddamn pity oscar for this movie w an entirely black cast adapted from one of the seminal womanist novels written by a black wlw about black wlw struggles and survivor stories
it’s still tied for the record of most nominations for a film without a single win
but pls continue writing these weak and fucked narratives of “lgbt movies” not historically winning until moonlight without including one of the most infamous snubs in oscar history bc it was a black movie. pls tell me more about how moonlight winning is “justice” for your lily white gay movies w not 1 black person in them.
guys can we talk about how fucking great this Padme costume is
like first is says KIDS, not GIRLS, if your son wants to be Padme for Halloween he can and honestly who wouldn’t she’s great
and second the kid’s not like
just standing there looking pretty she’s being extra af holding a blaster bout to pop a cap in Anakin’s ass like yes this is Padme this is what kids should like about Star Wars
In a recent post about mechanical incentives in tabletop roleplaying games, there was some chatter in the notes about whether it’s possible for game rules to incentivise “telling a story”. Rather than address it there, I’m going to branch off a separate post, because I think there’s a more basic question in play: before we can talk about how rules interface with story, we’ve gotta be clear about what sort of player-versus-character relationship we’re talking about.
In the past, I’ve talked about how expectations regarding the procedure of play can differ wildly even within a narrow context like “enter dungeon, kill dragon, get treasure”, and about some of the assumptions that game designers can bake into their rules without necessarily realising they’re doing so. One set of assumptions that I didn’t touch on in the latter post – because it’s basically a whole discussion on its own – are those that pertain to the fundamental relationship between you, the player, and your character.
There are as many opinions about how players ought to relate to their characters as there are games, but for discussion purposes, I like to break them down into four broad categories:
A. I am my character. I’ll do whatever I myself would do, if I happened to be a mighty wizard/deadly warrior/etc.
B. I’m an actor, and my character is my role. I’ll do whatever I think my character would do.
C. My character is the protagonist of a story I’m telling. I’ll do whatever makes for the most interesting narrative.
D. I’m playing a game, and my character is my playing-piece. I’ll do whatever scores the most points.
(Incidentally, A and B up there are where a lot of folks end up talking past each other. The term “immersion” gets bandied about a fair bit in online discussion of tabletop RPGs, but folks rarely bother to define it – which is a problem, because when they say “immersion”, half of them mean A and half of them mean B!)
The stance that a game adopts can make a big difference with respect to how certain things are implemented in the rules. For example, games where social and mental influence takes control of your character away from you and hands it to the GM are generally of type A; when the player is identified directly with the character, it simply doesn’t make sense to demand that she play her character against her own best interests.
Of course, few games stick narrowly to just one stance. While it’s possible to pair these approaches up in any combination, the most common pairings are those that lie adjacent on the preceding list. For example, it’s not unusual for games to straddle the line between “I am my character” and “my character is my role”. Likewise, there are a number of popular games that split the difference between “my character is the protagonist of a story I’m telling” and “my character is my playing piece” – there’s a fine line between playing author and playing God!
The really interesting thing, though, is that these stances don’t form a spectrum: they form a loop. In terms of which approaches are most closely compatible, “my character is my playing piece” loops right back around to “I am my character” – and that particular boundary is where a lot of the oldest tabletop RPGs, including old-school Dungeons & Dragons itself, tend to live.
Where does your favoured player-versus-character stance fall?
(I tend to be an A/D, myself, though I can do C/D in a pinch.)
weirdly enough i often find myself at B/D, i find that it can be a lot of fun working backwards from “what will score the most points” until you have a fully realized person who just so happens to be perfectly optimized
Oh, sure – A/C and B/D are by no means unheard of. They’re merely a bit tricky to handle because you end up with two sets of potentially conflicting priorities that need to be reconciled.
A/C obliges you to negotiate two very different perspectives on the same story simultaneously, at once personal and disinterested.
B/D, meanwhile, has a tension between B’s demand that you not directly acknowledge how the game’s rules are influencing your decisions (unless you’re playing a really high-concept game where your role is aware that she’s a character in a game, anyway), versus D’s demand that you constantly rummage around in the rules’ guts.
You can totally do it, but there are pitfalls there that don’t exist when you adopt approaches that flow into each other more organically.
I think you could make a pretty solid argument that C isn’t it’s own point, it’s a subset of B where your role is “protagonist”
You’d have your work cut out for you. There are some pretty fundamental differences in terms of how the player-character interface works there; arguing that C is strictly a subset of B is roughly equivalent to arguing that – for example – being a writer is strictly a subset of being an actor. I mean, you can argue that, and certainly there are a lot of shared skills between the two pursuits, but it’s an extraordinary claim.
(As an aside, I’d also like to address the suggestion that’s been raised several times in the notes that all games really fall into type D because rules-based character creation exists. That’s only true if you buy into the old roleplaying-versus-rollplaying fallacy whereby engaging with the game mechanics in any way whatsoever is equivalent to treating your character as a playing-piece. Relatively few games are written with the assumption that you’ll “play to win” during character creation, and a great many will break hilariously if you try.)
I could see writer:actor being an accurate comparison to protagonist: role in a game that either doesn’t have a GM or a game that distributes some narrative power to the players that is usually held by the GM.
In a traditional 1-GM-multiple-players scenario, though, does any given player typically have the degree of narrative control to be considered the equivalent of the writer of the story in which their character is the protagonist, though, or are you more typically just placing yourself in the mindset of, “I am the protagonist, I will do what I think makes the most interesting and dramatic narrative,” and then watching the chips fall around you as the other players and the GM respond?
This kinda loops back around into the assumed modes of play discussion.
Ah, I see what you mean. Yeah, B and C can – not necessarily will, but can – have a lot of overlap in a game that explicitly rejects any mode of play that positions the player as a co-author of the world-fiction.
There are plenty of traditional one-GM-many-players games that don’t wholly reject the player as co-author, though; e.g., Ars Magica’s troupe-style play, where players can randomly pop into the roles of handy NPCs if their primary character isn’t present in a scene, or many FATE flavours’ game mechanics for letting players spend plot currency to just fiat setting elements into existence.
(And heck, even in games that do explicitly reject the player as co-author, a lot of groups politely ignore the exhortations of the text and play ‘em that way anyway. I’ve been in a fair number of D&D groups that have treated “players are only allowed to state intentions while the GM has absolute authority over everything else” as more of a guideline.)
Female staffers adopted a meeting strategy they called “amplification”: When a woman made a key point, other women would repeat it, giving credit to its author. This forced the men in the room to recognize the contribution — and denied them the chance to claim the idea as their own.
“We just started doing it, and made a purpose of doing it. It was an everyday thing,” said one former Obama aide who requested anonymity to speak frankly. Obama noticed, she and others said, and began calling more often on women and junior aides.
If you’re wondering what amplification looks like it really is as simple as listening to a person’s point and then saying “Yes I really agree with (this person’s name) that (the point they made) and I think that (build on point)”
So for example,
“Yes I agree with the female staffers that amplification is an effective process and I’ve seen great results from similar techniques used by my own colleagues”
Support, Credit, Reinforce. It’s simple and effective and it really does work.
Antivaccine “hero” Andrew Wakefield has recruited Del Bigtree to help him make a movie about the “CDC whistleblower” manufactroversy and anti vaccine conspiracy theories in …