HOUNDED – Kevin Hearne is a rancid neckbeard ape

Atticus O’Sullivan, last of the Druids, lives peacefully in Arizona, running an occult bookshop and shape-shifting in his spare time to hunt with his Irish wolfhound. His neighbors and customers think that this handsome, tattooed Irish dude is about twenty-one years old—when in actuality, he’s twenty-one centuries old. Not to mention: He draws his power from the earth, possesses a sharp wit, and wields an even sharper magical sword known as Fragarach, the Answerer.

Unfortunately, a very angry Celtic god wants that sword, and he’s hounded Atticus for centuries. Now the determined deity has tracked him down, and Atticus will need all his power—plus the help of a seductive goddess of death, his vampire and werewolf team of attorneys, a sexy bartender possessed by a Hindu witch, and some good old-fashioned luck of the Irish—to kick some Celtic arse and deliver himself from evil.

People’ve been asking me to have a go at this for a while, and what do you know, it turns out to be exactly the same type of excrement as Jim Butcher! Misogyny? Check. Wish-fulfillment bullshit? Oh yes. Juvenile Gary Stu material, aka Rothfuss? You fucking bet.

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read these links and you too will hate

Some heap of excrement thinks that if you’re annoyed or “upset” by uncritical depiction of rape in grimdark fantasy, it’s basically your own fault because you’re too sensitive. Survivors? Toughen up, dearies, can’t live in that rose-tinted bubble.

Readers who like to live in a rose-tinted bubble without any awareness of the kind of sick shit that does happen during times of turmoil will be upset by this book. If you prefer your heroes gallant and noble, then go read a romance novel. For example, some ladies couldn’t look past the references to rape. Um. Hello. This is WAR. Rape isn’t nice but hey, if you’re living in times of civil unrest, do you honestly expect war-mongering males to politely keep their dicks in their trousers? You don’t have to like what Jorg and his merry band of adventurers get up to. Hell, I didn’t like some of the stuff they did, but I accepted it as realism. Or maybe the fact that I live in South Africa has desensitised me. It doesn’t really matter, suffice to say that I shoved aside my own sensibilities so that I could get into the story.

Isn’t she brave and edgy? Maybe she’ll grow up into an adult human being with empathy someday, but I wouldn’t hold out the hope.

Have Ronan Wills‘ glorious shredding of Kevin Hearn’s Fullmetal Druid.

On the racefail front Hearne fairs better than many of his contemporaries purely by virtue of the fact that almost everyone in Hounded is as white as humanely possible without turning transparent, but there is an eyebrow-raising scene with a (dark and scary) Indian witch spirit inhabiting the body of an aggressively Irish bar worker. Because brown people are great and all, as long as we don’t have to actually look at them.

[...]

If genre fiction at its worst can be thought of as a deep, dark hole than urban fantasy is the mariana trench. Burn it and salt the earth so nothing can ever grow again.

Let’s talk about cutting off Superman’s dick. Sounds good to me.

Turns out Orson Scott Card Has Always Been an Asshat and then some.

So we drove to a nearby city and did the honored guest thing, drinking the free booze and eating the free munchies throughout the day. The culmination of the evening was a party in Robert Adams’ suite. I had never heard of Adams, but he wrote a fairly popular manly-man rape & pillage fantasy series called “Horseclans.” He was there with another SF writer whose name you would recognize less from his SF than from a popular column he wrote for a computer magazine.

[...]

Of course this attempted assault may have had nothing to do with Card, but it’s obvious it had everything to do with Ender and Hitler: Sympathy for the Superman. I would probably find the irony much less delicious if Adams had in fact punched me. Card wrote a justification for anyone who ever has a violent thought; Elaine called him on it. And the ultimate reaction to her callout was violence.

Interested in Peter V Brett’s next installment of grimdark, The Daylight War? It is, of course, rapey, misogynistic and racist. By scum for scum and all that.

Which ties it all up to my initial response: if you liked the first two books, nothing I’ve said about the third will dissuade you from reading it. You’ve already had rapiness, perpetual womb-talk and evil foreigners enslavin’ our children and takin’ our wimmenfolk into their hay-rems. There’s nothing worse in this book, so if you’ve come this far… Enjoy.

Plagiarism wank in the YA blogosphere from last year: The Story Siren and Plagiarism. Who the fuck plagiarizes blog content, of all things? How can anyone be that starved for attention or publicity or whatever it is that Kristi Diehm thinks she’s getting? Is the YA fandom basically populated by children?

Remember Colum Paget? He’s back with another round of vile word vomit, this time more disgusting than the last.

Cause of the fall out: A tweet by someone who said, and I’m going to try to paraphrase because I don’t really want people to know who they were, “this sh*t done to women by, you know, MEN”… it represents a standard position that I commonly see online and elsewhere, and I don’t mean a standard position taken towards MEN, it’s a standard position taken towards men, women, black and white, rich and poor, believers and atheists. It’s a position that takes the actions of individuals in a group, and characterizes the whole group in those terms. Although the example I’m giving here from my recent experience is a run-in with feminists, this is not a problem with feminists. You can find this kind of statement among just about any political group, Democrat or Republican, religious or unbeliever, windows or mac. This is an attitude is common across the human race, and it’s key doorway into hate, because it leads one from being angry at the actions of a few to hating an entire group.

[...]

One argument that was put forwards in defence of this statement was that the use of MEN in capitals didn’t mean men as an entire group, it meant some men, or ‘too many’ men. I don’t really buy this argument. If I’d made a comment something like “This sh*t being done by, you know, MUSLIMS” then even if I was talking about something were the transgressors were Muslim, I think people would see my statement as tarring all Muslims with the same brush, implying they were all like the transgressors. Claims made that the comment just referred to men in the plural, because the transgressors *happened* to be men, are also disingenuous, because the transgressors are also human beings, so the comment is equivalent to “This sh*t done by, you know, HUMAN BEINGS.” A statement which I don’t think anyone would make, because it doesn’t really mean anything. For a statement in this form to make any sense it has to be singling out a group and claiming that the group identity is significant.

[...]

Again, before I get too high-and-mighty on this issue, I have to confess that I’ve done this generalizing thing in the past myself (Full disclosure: After hearing a slew of reports of misogynist events happening in what can broadly be called the ‘Islamic World’, I once wrote a blogpost decrying Islam. But Islam, like most religions, is a broad church, and though those problems exist and are ongoing, there’s vast numbers of Muslims who disapprove of the behavior and oppose it. However, if we define it as a ‘Muslim problem’ we make it harder for them to deal with the issues, because they have to waste time defending their religion from the generalized accusations).

tl;dr Colum Paget barged into a hashtag that’s a safe space for women and proceeded to shit all over it demanding that they be nicer and WHAT ABOUT THE MENZ!!! Like, he literally tried to tone-police women talking about sexual assault. Feminists tore him a new one, causing him to cry big white male crocodile tears and come up with that analogy about Muslims, since “misandry” is just as bad as Islamophobia, do you see. He then proceeds to screech that if you wimmen keep being so “inflammatory” you won’t get anything done and will just alienate good allies like him, you know. Whatever will we do then. The fun thing about Paget is that the last time he was called out on twitter, he deleted his twitter and threw a fit about how I’ll send minions to physically attack him at cons (because the most vulnerable demographic at SFF cons? Why, white men! Like Jay Lake). Who knows best about being oppressed and hated? White men! Who should get to be the ultimate authority on both, and on agitating for equality or how that should be done? White men! Who should get to tell minorities just what to do? White men!

He’s @SirEnigmatic, by the way. Keep in mind that the dude’s deeply creepy in person and likes to pester people who want nothing to do with him both online and off (especially minorities at cons, many of whom know exactly the kind of views he holds), so yeah.

why tone doesn’t matter – the white tears burden

Look at that tweet. Absorb it. Drink it in. Gape. It gets worse. And no, @cheilt isn’t talking about xenophobia directed at Eastern Europeans. She is a native white Irish living in… Ireland.

Now I’ll tell you a story about why tone never matters because white people will flood you with their tears at the slightest provocation. Lesson: being manipulative, racist faux-martyrs is an entrenched characteristic of the white culture.

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THE FRIDAY SOCIETY – Adrienne Kress is an illiterate fuck

An action-packed tale of gowns, guys, guns –and the heroines who use them all

Set in turn of the century London, The Friday Society follows the stories of three very intelligent and talented young women, all of whom are assistants to powerful men: Cora, lab assistant; Michiko, Japanese fight assistant; and Nellie, magician’s assistant. The three young women’s lives become inexorably intertwined after a chance meeting at a ball that ends with the discovery of a murdered mystery man.

It’s up to these three, in their own charming but bold way, to solve the murder–and the crimes they believe may be connected to it–without calling too much attention to themselves.

Set in the past but with a modern irreverent flare, this Steampunk whodunit introduces three unforgettable and very ladylike–well, relatively ladylike–heroines poised for more dangerous adventures.

Shallow characters. Shallow understanding of racism. Shit plot. Shit prose. Weeaboo maggotry. This book is the epitome of what YA is really about: mass-produced illiterate fiction for illiterate people, encouraging them to read more of the same and to think that their consumption of illiterate media stands in for intelligence.

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MLN Hanover/Daniel Abraham – UNREADABLE SPIRITS

Jayné Heller thinks of herself as a realist, until she discovers reality isn’t quite what she thought it was. When her uncle Eric is murdered, Jayné travels to Denver to settle his estate, only to learn that it’s all hers — and vaster than she ever imagined. And along with properties across the world and an inexhaustible fortune, Eric left her a legacy of a different kind: his unfinished business with a cabal of wizards known as the Invisible College.

Led by the ruthless Randolph Coin, the Invisible College harnesses demon spirits for their own ends of power and domination. Jayné finds it difficult to believe magic and demons can even exist, let alone be responsible for the death of her uncle. But Coin sees Eric’s heir as a threat to be eliminated by any means — magical or mundane — so Jayné had better start believing in something to save her own life.

Aided in her mission by a group of unlikely companions — Aubrey, Eric’s devastatingly attractive assistant; Ex, a former Jesuit with a lethal agenda; Midian, a two-hundred-year-old man who claims to be under a curse from Randolph Coin himself; and Chogyi Jake, a self-styled Buddhist with mystical abilities — Jayné finds that her new reality is not only unexpected, but often unexplainable. And if she hopes to survive, she’ll have to learn the new rules fast — or break them completely….

Oh fucking shit, even the synopsis is terrible. “A self-styled Buddhist with mystical abilities”? That giant human meat grinder is hungry for Daniel Abraham’s flesh.

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the white man is always afraid

Dear Author’s “First Page” thing is where people submit an excerpt of their unreadable tripe for the erudite readership of Dear Author to critique. This time, it’s so shitterously offensive that even Dear Author readers–normally not the most socially or politically aware lot–twigged onto the fact and went “oh hell no.”

The heat was a bitch, but it was at least natural.

Not like the animals who’d done this to an innocent child – and why? The story Kai had pieced together from the interpreter’s quick sentences was that she’d given directions to a stranger who’d stopped her while she was getting water from the village well. Since he wasn’t her father, brother, uncle, cousin, or husband, the village elders decided that she must be some kind of slut. So they’d punished her: first by a gang-rape, then by slicing off her ears, her nose, blinding her…if that hadn’t been enough, someone had laid a curse on her – Kai could feel it, simmering under her skin, keeping her alive despite her injuries. She’d lain in the dust of the village square until two slightly elder cousins had gotten up the courage to pull her into a donkey cart and drive the forty kilometers to the district hospital at Gereshk, where the MSF held an aid mission. While he wasn’t strictly a gynecologist, Kai was the closest they had, so he had been given the task of putting the shattered bits back together.

This, I’m guessing, is what the writer believes is normal in Afghanistan (and notice the donkey cart, because as you know, children, those “primitive animals” in Afghanistan don’t have automobiles–they have donkey carts!). But worry not, good readers. Kai, MSF doctor who clutches his pearls crucifix, isn’t white!

Kai is not white — he’s half Japanese and about a quarter elf/quarter “god”, though he’s in denial about the more supernatural parts of his heritage (which is why he’s super-Christian) and he’s not American. His passport is British, even though he’s not ethnically British. So he’s not going to be doing any “Whitey is Righty” restructuring of the Afghani scene. In fact, just a bit later, he commits his own atrocity in response to this.

Hear that? He’s quarter elf and quarter god. Every objection you might have with this shittery has now been rendered invalid, thank you very much. And… just what is “ethnically British” exactly?

Another commentator, Carolyn, has this wonderful tidbit to contribute:

Author, perhaps you should have had them throwing acid in the child’s face. That’s well documented. Perhaps you should have had them stone her. That’s documented too.

I agree about calling [Afghanis] animals. Animals don’t do things like that, but many middle eastern sects do, so animal is too good a name for them. It’s a tricky thing to write about: pc vs the ‘kill ‘em all’ crowd, you’ll never please them all.

I liked it, for what it’s worth.

In typical Dear Author moderation style, nobody’s stepped in and said this is not okay (and nobody paused and thought it might not be remotely fucking okay to give platform to a writing excerpt this heinously offensive). Carolyn, by the way, is this romance author. The next time you see the name C L McCullough, don’t forget to mentally append “unspeakably vile racist piece of shit” to it. That’s right, Ms McCullough, I just gave you free publicity. I bet this will be the most page views your blog and Amazon page have ever seen in a long, long time. You’re welcome, maggot.

Jayaprakash reviewed Dan Simmons’ Song of Kali, a book that–if possible–manages to be even more racist than Bacigalupi’s The Wind-Up Girl.

Simmons’ unpleasant narrator hates Calcutta; there are long descriptions of the filth and squalor of the city. There isn’t even a hint of compassion for the inhabitants to leaven it; every Indian character is either sinister, conniving, hypocritical or in some way less than human. The only Indian given any sort of a sympathetic portrayal is the narrator’s wife, who of course is safely tethered to a white penis and vents her own hatred of India frequently.

Gawker published a piece about child rape. Problem is… well, there are lots of problems with it.

A vague rape apologia runs through this piece–the implication of “men who have sex with children” as an oppressed group, the equation of pedophilia with other sexual orientations, and little to no consideration of victims. What bugs me is this is a topic that could use some mature journalism and thinking that goes beyond “hang them all.” (The talented Jennifer Gonnerman does it here.) But this isn’t it. It’s poor journalism, and an insensitive attempt at being edgy.

For more on the shitstorm resulting from Cord Jefferson, the “journalist” responsible, see this compilation of tweets. “Trying to find sympathy and new treatments for pedophiles” indeed. Appropriately, here’s some coverage about Ed Kramer, pedophile and founder of DragonCon. Yes, when you attend DragonCon, you’re funding his efforts to avoid being brought to trial.

Charles Stross is very concerned about the “anon whispering campaigns” out to “damage fandom.” You know, the terrible whispering campaigns (?) about Rene Walling, ReaderCon creep and serial sexual harasser, and those who viciously defend his right to be a creep forever unimpeded and unpunished. Something about witch hunts and how those are bad. Very bad. So, so bad. Banning and shunning a man with a track record of sexual harassment is a horrible witch hunt, you know? Interesting that Stross prioritizes “damage to fandom” over–you know–damage to women. Who have been sexually harassed. Peculiarly when K Tempest Bradford and Rachel Swirsky asks him to specify just which witch hunt he’s concerned about, he became oddly silent, probably because he can’t dismiss either woman out of hand as an “odious troll,” the definition of which seems to be “point out when Charles Stross is a shit.”

I got the initial link from Nick Mamatas’ LJ, by the way. To see more about the (still ongoing!) fuckwaddery, try these links. And read this one from Genevieve Valentine.

CHANGES – the apex of Jim Butcher’s racism and misogyny

Long ago, Susan Rodriguez was Harry Dresden’s lover-until she was attacked by his enemies, leaving her torn between her own humanity and the bloodlust of the vampiric Red Court. Susan then disappeared to South America, where she could fight both her savage gift and those who cursed her with it.

Now Arianna Ortega, Duchess of the Red Court, has discovered a secret Susan has long kept, and she plans to use it-against Harry. To prevail this time, he may have no choice but to embrace the raging fury of his own untapped dark power. Because Harry’s not fighting to save the world…

He’s fighting to save his child.

“His own untapped dark power”? Really? Who wrote this synopsis? Who wrote this book? Who reads this shit, illiterate chimpanzees?

Dreck like this is why I rarely read books by white dudes anymore, by the way.

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down with “Coals”; save the whites! Victoria Foyt’s REVEALING EDEN pt 1

Eden Newman must mate before her 18th birthday in six months or she’ll be left outside to die in a burning world. But who will pick up her mate-option when she’s cursed with white skin and a tragically low mate-rate of 15%? In a post-apocalyptic, totalitarian, underground world where class and beauty are defined by resistance to an overheated environment, Eden’s coloring brands her as a member of the lowest class, a weak and ugly Pearl. If only she can mate with a dark-skinned Coal from the ruling class, she’ll be safe. Just maybe one Coal sees the Real Eden and will be her salvation her co-worker Jamal has begun secretly dating her. But when Eden unwittingly compromises her father’s secret biological experiment, she finds herself in the eye of a storm and thrown into the last area of rainforest, a strange and dangerous land. Eden must fight to save her father, who may be humanity’s last hope, while standing up to a powerful beast-man she believes is her enemy, despite her overwhelming attraction. Eden must change to survive but only if she can redefine her ideas of beauty and of love, along with a little help from her “adopted aunt” Emily Dickinson.

It’s not every day I get to review a book whose series title is literally “Save the Whites.”

It’s also not quite every day that I encounter a YA dystopia whose basic premise comes down to “white girls must ‘mate’ with black men by eighteen or they’ll be executed.” Victoria Foyt, incidentally, believes herself to be an enlightened human being who wants everyone to live in a “color-free” world. Oh, if you’re wondering why the girl on the front cover is one half Aryan and the other half black (literally), be puzzled no more: she’s wearing blackface. Yes, that’s a promotional video. I understand there are forty-nine of those on youtube.

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it’s a white expat scum! bring your own axe and chopping block

The oddest coincidences happen on Dear Author’s “first page” feature. Their latest is “An Indonesian Love Story.”

This is my love poem to the wonderful, sexy, lovely, amazing, spectacular, shy, wild, passionate, inhibited, deeply contradictory women of Indonesia, and to the wonderful land of Indonesia itself.

It’s worthless excrement and creepily sexist. A commentator chimes in to defend this from the (well-deserved) criticism, saying that she follows the writer’s column on the Jakarta Post, hinting that the writer is a white expat living in Indonesia. Another commentator, also an Indonesian woman, delivers the cluebat of “NOPE” to everyone’s kneecap.

Maybe the author knew Indonesian women, but I do not feel it in this piece. There is nothing that speaks to the Indonesian part of me, how restrictive our families and the society could be, how the country and its people taught me the meaning of “a bird in a gold cage”.

I think the author was trying to pay some kind of homage to Indonesia, but he is making the women sound like a species that does not exist. There must be something real in this to touch me, to identify with the Indonesian part of me, but there isn’t. Despite what he said in the introduction, this piece is about him, not the woman. And yes, my very first thought upon reading was that this sounds like a typical older white guy relationship with an Indonesian woman.

Judging by the clarity of her communication she’s probably twenty times the writer said white expat scum is, too.

By and by I became curious and summoned the dark powers of google, which brought me to this. Where the author copy-pastes his entire fucking table of contents and excerpts for all to see, shamelessly, in the way of an untrained puppy shitting where it eats and then rolling in that shit, then yipping excitedly because it thinks though shit-covered it’ll still get pats on the head. Trigger warning for rape.

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