#these are in reference to real weird incidents that happened in 2010s

[wainswright]

Mockery… like how site used to use everything as a dunk?

[europeanguy]

Gotta Gogh [Part 1: Tour-guiding for Dummies]

Pairing: Nadia x Maxwell

Genre: Fluff (?)

Words: 1,684

Tags: Canon Divergence, Crossovers, Curse words probably, The Riot Club!AU sort of

- an accompanying fic for this drawing

There were two people looking at the Cordonian Ruby — Nadia assumed they were a couple by the way that they stood a little too close together and the magnetic energy that seemed to spark between them. Like she couldn’t have pulled them apart if she tried.

Two girls. Well, women. One was tall, tan, and toned to the gods. She probably modeled, or played sports professionally. The other one was shorter, medium blonde hair done in a side-braid, pretty enough to be an actress. Neither was Nadia’s type of course. She looked at them the way she looked at Picasso’s paintings — she likes what she sees. It was a nice sight.

The tall one snakes an arm around the blonde’s waist as they walk away and once again, Nadia was alone. Like something in this museum would come alive any second now. Nadia swore that one time that the portrait of the late Queen Kenna Rys blinked at her, but that was probably the result of caffeine withdrawals.

 “Welcome home,” – the letter said. Nadia could never forget the feeling when she received her acceptance letter — it was like getting accepted to Hogwarts — if Hogwarts had exchange programs that would only last for one semester. 

The University of Cordonia had a thriving student population of 5,000 (they were very selective) — composed of the country’s finest minds or filthy rich. You could be either or both. They offered an amazing Fine Arts program, given the country’s own rich history and deep love for the arts. Not to mention the white sand beaches, castles, princes she could bring home and make Kai so jealous with — but the truth is, it’s been two weeks and Nadia had been nothing but lonely. She hasn’t so much as dipped one toe into the ocean, visited a castle, nor met a prince (this one was unrealistic, even Nadia would admit so). So far her only friend would be Otis — the museum custodian — who happens to be sixty-eight and hard of hearing.

 The next day Nadia is greeted by a boatload (literally a boatload – well, cruise ship) of tourists. She was advised by the financial aid admin through a phone call to be prepared with extra research this time as to not repeat the Cordonian Ruby incident.

“Look, I know you try your best, but please be more careful this time,” Nadia could hear the anxiety radiating off of Helena’s voice. “I was advised that the Pierce moneybags would be present today.”

“...moneybags?”

“Yes! They’re looking to invest in the museum.”

Nadia looks around the empty entrance hall from her chair. If there was a speck of dust anywhere she wouldn’t be able to spot it (care of Otis). The rooms were individually temperature-controlled. They even had wifi.

“Do we even need it?”

Helena heaves a sigh so loud that Nadia could almost feel her exasperation herself. “Yes, Nadia, we need it! It can give us access to public collections, long-term maintenance,”

Nadia’s mouth forms into a small “o”.

“And think about Otis, he can retire right now and be at home, not worrying about anything because the museum WILL generously pay for his retirement plus pension!”

“I think Otis wants to live here until he dies.” Nadia whispers.

“Bottomline is, Nadia, you have to know what you’re talking about this time.”

“Yes, I know you’re referring to the Cordonian Ruby incident-“

“Don’t call it that.”

“Anyway, the incident — well, it’s not gonna happen again. Don’t worry.” In hindsight, Nadia’s first lesson should have been The Significance of Apples in Cordonian Culture 101. It would explain so much.

“Right. I trust you,” Helena says. “They’ll be arriving at around eleven in the morning.”

 The tourists arrive right on the clock, they had a tour guide of their own (a giant 6’5 guy who looked like he could bench press three of her, plus Otis) but apparently the boss-man Bartholomew Pierce wanted someone who was more familiar with Cordonian art scene. Nadia was hardly a local, but she had been studying nothing but the country’s art everyday since she got here – she lived and breathed it. Well, for two weeks anyway.

Chaz – the tour guide – hands Nadia a blue flag with “EOS” on it. “You can take it from here,”

The crowd was pretty small, more or less forty people, she wouldn’t need a flag. It’s not like the museum had other people aside from the group. “EOS?” Nadia gingerly takes the goofy flag.

“Ember of the Sea.”

“Shouldn’t it be EOTS?”

Chaz snorts. “No that sounds stupid, now go.”

 Nadia takes her place in front of the group, holding the blue flag above her head. “Hi everyone, I’m Nadia, on behalf of the University of Cordonia, I’d like to welcome you all to the museum,” She takes a deep breath before continuing. God, public-speaking never gets easier. “Firstly, I ask that you do not touch anything, and please do not deviate from the group-“

 The tour goes surprisingly well. Nadia studied up on the Cordonian Ruby (the country’s Mona Lisa – in terms of notoriety). Oil on canvas, commissioned by King Fabian – a direct ancestor of the current royal family, painted by an anonymous artist in 1816. The artist was rumored to be a mixed English noblewoman who became a lover of the young King, resulting into her painting the Cordonian Ruby, a gift to symbolize her love. However, she died of heartbreak since the late King loved his Lythikos Moscato and other mistresses more than her.

 Nadia leads the group to the portraits section – or as she secretly calls it stuffy-rich-people-paintings – and with this she gets to relax a bit. She tells them a few facts, lands one or two (Helena-approved, non-offensive) jokes, and lets the group disperse across the room to let them look at the art without her spewing random information about how Luther Nevrakis from The Crown and The Flame is actually based off of a real Luther Nevrakis who wasn’t a super-villain. Well, an obvious super-villain.

 “Nadia?” A pre-teen girl approaches her, followed by a… twin? Except the second one wore glasses and a slightly embarrassed look on her face. “Who do you think is hotter?”

“We’re trying to settle an argument.” Glasses explained. They gesture to a family portrait of stoic looking parents – the mother’s expression a little warmer than the father’s – and two starkly different brothers. One with black hair and fierce gaze, and a younger one with brown hair and the tiniest smile on his face.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable talking about boys your age…” Nadia laughs awkwardly.

“Well, they’re dead so it doesn’t matter… right?” The first twin looks at Glasses. She simply shrugs.

“I don’t care I don’t even like boys.” Glasses pushes up her specs on the bridge of her nose as-a-matter-of-factly. “But now that she said it, it is really weird to ask her that.”

Nadia checks the information plate beneath the family portrait. Beaumont, 2004. “Well, this was seven years ago, so I don’t think they’re dead.”

A small, and sudden racket at the other end of the room captures Nadia’s and the twins’ attention. A group of boys (students, probably) were speed-walking through the room, laughing in a way that disturbed the peaceful vibe – and Nadia realizes that they were walking towards the one place that only Otis is allowed in. He explicitly told her to never go there or let anyone in. It was a tall and narrow arch-way that leads to a grand curving staircase, but that was only as far as Nadia saw. She wasn’t the type to break rules anyway. 

The first guy jumps over the velvet rope, followed by a second guy who merely steps over it. Before the last one could lift his feet, Nadia’s onto their heels.

“Sir, you can’t go through there!”

The first one is long gone, already shooting up the staircase like a man child on a sugar-rush. The other two turn around looking like they just became aware of her presence – along with the other tourists. The middle one looks snooty – expensive coat, slicked back hair. He doesn’t acknowledge Nadia, instead he turns to his friend. “Handle this.” With one last judging look at Nadia, Slick turns around to follow the first one up the staircase. “Leo, wait up!”

“Um-!” Nadia could feel the heat rising up her cheeks. Oh, she would follow them up the stairs, damn Otis’ rules, she would like to give these entitled boys a piece of her mind-

Someone clears their throat. Nadia looks up at him, the only guy left, – he was tall and broad-shouldered, brown wind-blown hair, and an amused expression in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, instead he lifts his gaze from Nadia to a painting on her right. Nadia turns to where he’s looking and it registers on her. Same brown hair as the kid, same smile, only this time he was alone in the portrait and older. The plate said 2010. One year ago, and the man on the portrait was standing right next to her.

Shit.

A small part of Nadia still wanted to climb up the stairs and kick them out the window, but a bigger, smarter, part of her knew that if this guy was important enough to have his portrait hung in the same room as a prince – let alone the fact that he even had a portrait, in this case two – she had better start apologizing.

“I… am so, SO, sorry.” I’ve been here two weeks please don’t have me kicked out of Cordonia or assassinated I’m still young I still have dreams-

“Hey,” he flashes her an embarrassed smile and Nadia’s cheeks heat up. “It’s fine, honestly.”

“Max!!” Someone calls from upstairs. Probably Slick.

“Sorry, I gotta go.” He looks apologetic as he turns around to walk away, but not without looking at Nadia over his shoulder.

 “Whoa, he is hot,” Glasses and her twin suddenly appear beside her. “Okay, Jess, you win I guess.” Glasses shrugs, but Jess’s jaw is still dropped.

“That was… the Beaumont guy…” she says, looking at his solo portrait.

And sure enough, when Nadia reads the plate under his painting, it says Maxwell Percival Beaumont (2010), oil on canvas.

to be continued

FUN FACTS that you don’t have to read but the story will make more sense if you do lol and honestly I just really like fun facts pls read... please?

Title:

- I literally chose “Gotta Gogh” on a whim

Canon divergence:

- This takes place in 2011. Maxwell is 21 (1990) and Nadia is 19 (1992).

- This is inspired by that one scene in the riot club. There WILL be a version of the riot club in later parts, but it will be small since its mostly about Nads and Max.

Names:

- Otis means “keen of hearing”

- Helena the financial aid administrator is just a Cordonian parody of Helen Twombly. Points for creativity lmao honestly i just imagined helen twombly but it wouldnt make sense for her to be in cordonia

The Cordonian Ruby:

- The anonymous artist is the D&D MC and her death is based on the actual wife of the Prince Regent (George IV), Princess Caroline who “died of a heartbreak” - a cold hard fact. Jk, no, but she was in a toxic marriage and it was just a Bad Situation. George IV had several mistresses, fathered illegitimate children, and apparently was a Party Boy and he was an immensely unpopular ruler. This is all based off of my art history professor telling us Georgian Era gossip instead of sticking to the syllabus.

- The mystery of what the Cordonian Ruby Incident will never be solved. That is, until I actually know what happened during the “incident” HAHAHA

Progress:

- I wasn’t gonna post this originally, I just wrote it on my phone during a 3-hour trip (I got inspired by my own drawing LMAO) and I kept updating it during the week every night before I slept and suddenly it just blossomed into something that I kept thinking about so now it’s a fic!

- I will be posting more art and updates on max and nadia’s story in the near future lol I already know how it ends so dw I’ll come thru and finish this! (probably around 4-5 parts)

[andranikolayi]

Gxrls Can’t Mix - misogyny and discrimination in the electronic music world

originally appeared online in Romanian for Revista Cutra

A brief note about this translation

I initially wrote this text in July for Romanian intersectional feminist mag CUTRA and they published it mid September. The focus was supposed to be on events that did take place locally, however, this summer there’s been a constant stream of tweets from female-identified and enby djs/producers about their horrendous Boiler Room experiences.

I wanted to shine a light on that and the endemic kind of sexism that boiler room is constantly facilitating and refuses to take any responsibility towards, as well as share some of the horrors from the Romania scene that nobody wants to talk about because we still live in a very homophobic, racist and sexist environment. As a local queer artist myself, I do believe it is our duty to speak up on these issues even if it may negatively affect our social/professional life. The local community leaders do know what they need to do in order to create safer, more inclusive spaces yet prefer to use a superficially woke discourse that looks good online, yet they would never take direct action or present an unpopular opinion.

Having spoken to Ceci after their Boiler Room and their scary bad experience (including receiving multiple death threats), it became increasingly clear that this text needed to exist in the world. Also running into Lakuti last week in Berlin and hearing how traumatized she still is after her experience playing in Romania, I was all the more motivated to translate it into English and make this available for everyone.

It may be sprawling at times, but I think it’s important to present a translation of the original published material, as it appears on the CUTRA website. Please keep in mind that CUTRA is not a music/dj-specific publication so certain aspects of the industry come with very ELI5 explanations.

First I thought she was just messing with us, but now i m starting to think that this girl doesn’t know what she’s doing

This is boring room not boiler room

Are they trying to put us to bed and broadcasting Schumann resonances?

She would have been better at spinning pizzas than records

Go back to the kitchen!

 These are just a select few from the over 2000 comments of the very first Boiler Room live stream taking place in Romania. Said comments appeared on the initial Facebook live post. The event took place in July 2016. At the time of writing this article [na – july 2019], all the comments are still publicly visible on their page.

I could probably write a thesis on misogyny in electronic music, but for this particular piece I’d like to focus on the following question: why do we saying that gxrls can’t mix?

I would also like to ask the follow up questions: should we be surprised that colleagues from the Romanian club industry would say that a female-identified person is a sick DJ but „a little too homely” to play a certain club? Or that another person I used to consider a close friend would tell me during a b2b set that because he just took some MDMA I looked like „a juicy piece of meat” to him? Or how when Electronic Beats Romania did their first feature on local producer Admina and they didn’t even know who to contact from the magazine to moderate the deluge of hateful comments? Or how nobody even bats an eye at the way industry men here always tend to grab you by the lower waist when talking to you in the club as if it were the most natural thing in the world? Try to explicitly say something and you would be instantly labelled an „unchill bitch”.

The answer is a resounding yes. We should be surprised, as well as angry and concerned enough to start actively doing something about this.

Miss I’s Boiler Room

 On July 6th, 2016, the promoters behind the Interval event and festival series put together the very first Boiler Room in Romania. For those of you less familiar with the club world, Boiler Room is a platform that organizes events specifically designed to broadcast a live video stream of the club experience. Think DJs mixing or musicians doing live sets, while also making a point in filming the audience and their reactions to the music. Since its inception in 2010, Boiler Room has become a global phenomenon, with immense pull in the industry. The project is equally revered and reviled to the point that there are parody YouTube channels (see People of Boiler Room). For most artists, being on Boiler Room is a make or break moment, sort of like a calling card highlighting your skill as a DJ.

Promoters, fellow DJs, agents and ravers all follow Boiler Room religiously. The platform’s increased popularity and growing volume of videos produced per week may have slightly decreased its influence due to sheer oversaturation, being on BR is still the highlight of many up-and-coming artists’ career. Unlike a mix, the BR videos don’t just physically show off your mixing skills, but they also document the audience’s reaction in real time. Oh, and as a DJ you only get 60 minutes to give it your best. Or, as with Miss I in the following example, you’ve just been asked to open the very first BR broadcast ever from your country. Miss I is one of the most beloved local female DJs, also responsible for opening the first vinyl only record store in Romania and highly appreciated in the minimal/deep house scene, so you know there’s gonna be eyeballs. But no pressure, u do u grrrrl.

For every Boiler Room event, the broadcast is livestreaming on their website and Facebook page. Reading the live reactions on the chatroom and Facebook comments is intricately related to the experience. On that humid summer afternoon in a rooftop garden in Rahova, the comments that started pouring just a few minutes into her set were absolutely shocking. The level and volume of vitriol had greatly surpassed the BR staff’s expectations. About 40 minutes in, the host publicly posted a call out comment.

However, while researching this article, I was surprised to discover that most of said harmful and sexist comments were still up online. There were no attempts on behalf of the BR team to warn or ban users. Hell, there was no moderation. But maybe there should have been.

The Boiler Room Effect

Part I - San Francisco Pride, 2019

This story took place in 2016. We could easily justify what had happened by claiming we don’t like to talk about gender politics at the club or how, generally speaking, the Eurominimal/tech-house scene the event was catering to is notoriously populated by aggro cishet bros who worship Villalobos. Unfortunately (surprise surprise!), this has not been the first, nor the last online scandal Boiler Room has been responsible for.

During the writing process for this material, initially meant to focus mainly on Romanian issues, I started paying attention to the comments on recent BR livestreams. This process, coupled with the increased number of artist friends talking about the backlash in the comments following their BR streams I was seeing on Twitter lead me to believe in the dire necessity of live moderators for the entire BR social media. These comments are not just mean spirited or unfunny trolling, they can be incredibly harmful and have a lasting negative effect.

On June 1st 2019, Boiler Room organized a Pride-related event in San Francisco where an artist I not only appreciate but happen to occasionally work with made their debut. Ceci aka CCL is a DJ, producer, co-founder of queer collective TUF and [at the time of publishing] agent working for Discwoman, an NYC-based talent agency created to boost womxn and non-binary artists. CCL identifies as non-binary and uses only they/them pronouns. Being AFAB and feminine presenting, they are often misgendered due to their presentation, even after clearly stating their preferences.

In the beginning of the video, the host does use their correct pronouns, but most people in the comments were still referring to them by using she/her pronouns. This might seem like a minor inconvenience compared to the bulk of the discourse happening below the stream, mostly comprised of people complaining about the music, ranging from how weird the selection is, whether or not that sound is a faulty cable and how bad their technical skills were. Later Ceci confessed they even received actual death threats. All this was happening at a Pride-related event in one of the gayest cities in the world and with a line-up specifically tailored for the occasion.

Being misgendered is always a bad experience, but when it happens during what is supposed to be a career-defining moment, the effect is even more traumatic. Besides, a torrent of sexist and negative comments cannot have a positive effect on anyone, regardless of their gender or sexual identity. Especially with BR, this only seems to happen when female-identified or non-binary artists are concerned. In CCL’s case, the misgendering may have not been the most atrocious part of the online response, however we do need to start implementing such habits as not assuming one’s gender or choice of pronouns. It may seem like a small step, but it does make a world of difference.

What Boiler Room continuously refuse to do is acknowledge the influence it carries in the industry and the responsibility that comes with that. BR could have avoided causing a lot of damage by simply adding a little blurb about the artist’s preferred pronouns in the description of the Facebook live video, for the users tuning in later or not familiar with their work.

It’s this kind of thoughtfulness and concern for the actual scenes they feature that is consistently lacking from their approach.

Part II - The Sherelle Incident

 In March 2019, a different incident took over both the online and offline music discourse – for approximately two whole weeks, all you could see on Techno Twitter were reactions to Sherelle’s Boiler Room. In short, there was clip of a POC female-identified DJ from the UK playing bass and jungle to a packed room going totally berserk until someone from the audience touches the CDJs and the music stops. This unwanted intervention coming from an unidentified hand created a meme-worthy WTF reaction. To nobody’s surprise, this snipped was the one Boiler Room chose to use as their preview advertising her set online. All of a sudden, her startled face in the clip was all anyone could think of, not the incredible atmosphere she created. Yewande Adeniran  wrote a thoughtful piece on the implications and how said “accident” took the discourse away from a moment that was supposed to be just about Sherelle and her skills as a DJ.

Following the incident, the Twitter community managed to ID the person who caused the hubbub, who turned out to be infamous UK DJ Riz la Teef, who was also playing the event. Online, he’s been bombarded with accusations of racism and misogyny to the point of having to delete his account. However, a wave of reputed DJs and producers jumped to his defense and justified his action. Keeping in mind that most of what we call Techno Twitter is comprised of people from/who live in North American, their argument was that his unwarranted intrusion was in fact a very common practice from the UK grime/bass culture. 

Known as a wheel up or to turn up, it consists on moving the jog (the little CDJ wheelie thingie) to rewind the track playing and increase the hype. It’s traditionally considered a sign of appreciation and supposed to be very flattering when your friends/fellow DJs perform it. Think of it as a hands-on rewind. Only in this case his attempt failed and the only thing he managed to accomplish was create a whole lot of confusion. Plus, they were friends and earlier in the clip you can see him come say hi and hug her. In true Internet fashion, think pieces from major publications followed, educating the poor American kids on the wheel up, as well as photos with the two hugging and making peace, telling everyone it’s time to chill out. As for Sherelle’s part, I’m actually curious what else was she supposed to do than say something along the lines of “OK, fine, let’s move on”? It’s already hard enough to break through in the industry as a queer black woman, the last thing you want to do is be that unchill bitch who can’t take a joke.

Our Daily Misogyny

Going back the shitty things that happened in Romania chapter, I want to talk about an incident that happened in October 2016 at a Queer Night party in Guesthouse. To give you a little context, Queer Night is a series of queer parties, the first of its kind, co-run by local choreographer/dancer Paul Dunca and DJ/singer Cosima von Bulowe for over a decade. Guesthouse is a club mainly associated with the Rominimal/tech-house cult, with a pretty cishet, homophobic audience. However, they occasionally host the odd underground event, like DJ Stingray or Lena Willikens. This particular event was a collaborative effort between Queer Night and the Interval (the people responsible for the Romanian Boiler Rooms – na) curatorial teams, who invited queer womxn DJ couple Lakuti and Tama Sumo to do an extended back to back set. Lerato Khathi aka Lakuti is an incredibly talented DJ from South Africa, who also runs the label and talent agency Uzuri and Tama Sumo has an extensive DJ career and also books for Panoramabar.

As Lerato was mixing, a guy standing in front of the booth reaches towards the turntables and touches the record that was playing and the music glitches. Lerato simply froze for a second but continues to carry on mixing. A few minutes later, said guy suddenly appears behind the booth (access to the booth and the backstage area requires a separate bracelet) and tries to get her attention and starts touching her. In that moment, Tama rushes in and extracts the person from the booth. In spite of his highly inappropriate conduct at event that promotes safe spaces, the security staff refused to kick him out of the club for a fuzzy array of reasons – friends with the owner, being a “house regulars” and my favorite “he didn’t beat up anyone” line. Considering the organizers’ credo and position as community leaders, they could have done more than simply trying to minimize the incident.

The rest of the night went well and their set was lovely, but talking to them the next morning, the entire experience didn’t sound like just a minor incident of a someone being an asshole: Lerato confessed that even though she traveled and played all across the globe, she’s never experienced anything remotely similar.

I’d love to be able to say that these stories are just rare occurrences. Unfortunately, being in the music industry reflects a much more grim reality of endemic sexism. Let me suggest a little exercise – take for example any Boiler Room video on Youtube where there are female-identified performers and within the first dozen comments you might something along the lines of “she can’t mix”, “great selection but her technique is lacking” or “X guy did this so much better in the ‘90s”.

Perhaps we all know by now that commenting on a womxn’s appearance is a no-no. Yet I still constantly hear various industry men making comments that womxn like Peggy Gou or Jayda G only got where they are now just because they’re hot. (How come nobody calls out Marcel Dettman for looking like a model I ask you?). Unlike jabs at someone’s looks which are easy to dismiss as harmful, commenting on someone’s “skill” and “technique” are seemly OK because they refer to an objective (they say) variable, easy to judge and quantify. I ask you this – doesn’t this all sound terribly familiar? Perhaps using the same arguments as those right wing Youtube personalities that post videos with titles such as „X DESTROYS feminists with FACTS and LOGIC”?

Consequences of the systemic sexism are starting to pop up everywhere, from Resident Advisor closing down their comments section due to the amount of harassment related to their recent focus on female artists to the petition against Giegling’s Konstantin. For a quick reminder, German DJ Konstantin used a bunch of “biological determinism” arguments in an interview trying to explain why he believes women don’t have the right kind of brain for mixing. In 2018, Konstantin was booked to perform at three major parties during Amsterdam Dance Event (ADE), a key annual gathering for the electronic music industry. A petition signed by thousands of fellow DJs, music journalists and electronic music artists circulated online to have him blackballed due to his comments and half-assed apology that followed. Unfortunately, the only result was the ADE organizers offering him even more exposure by inviting him to talk about his actions on a live panel.

This kind of discourse is very dangerous, as by accepting and normalizing it we’re offering it unwarranted legitimacy to the point that opinions such as Konstantin’s start being reiterated by the press. After this year’s Movement festival in Detroit (the birthplace of techno), a journalist in a local newspaper writing a piece on the women’s rising visibility in electronic music, cited a “veteran DJ” who claimed women lack the technical capabilities to mix and rely on laptops and software in order to do their job. Despite this not being the author’s argument, he chose to offer a platform to a blatantly misogynistic opinion. These positions are not just wrong and should be called out for their obvious sexism, but perpetuating them in the press further increases their destructive power. The more we will continue to validate them, the more present they will become.

And still, why do we keep saying gxrls can’t mix?

Are girls really all lacking in the rhythm department? Commenting on one’s ability to mix is still one of the most widespread forms of criticism that AFAB and female-identified persons get. Why is it so widespread?

Through mixing, the art that defines the modern dance music DJ, most people understand creating a story through a continuous body of variegated music but particularly having no pause between the tracks. When industry people talk about mixing, they usually refer to beatmatching, which is usually means blending two or more tracks, often of different tempos or keys. The overall tempo of the DJ’s mix can remain constant or experience subtle increases across their set. This style of mixing, using long transitions, no tempo changes and working within the same musical subgenre throughout is particularly appreciated in Eurominimal and tech-house, which is also the most lucrative part of the industry in places like France, Germany and Romania. As many talented DJs have proven over the years, from legends like Larry Lavan or David Mancuso and their cosmic or loft deeply personal, eclectic styles, the perfect blends same tempo school is by no means the only “right” way to think about a dancefloor.

At a time when dance music has exploded into a multi-billion dollar industry, the “perfect mix” paradigm became the dominant style. In this climate, to be a DJ is synonymous with knowing how to mix, otherwise you don’t exist. Or at least that’s the androcentric perspective. And once you frame things like this, the comments on womxn’s “technical skills” stem from the same sexist pool as saying womxn are not good at math/science/driving or other “men’s” activities. After all, they’re just being objective, right? “Oh my god it’s not like I said she was fat or something!”

Mixing is a learned skill that requires practice to be perfected. The portion of the population who is encouraged to learn skills that involve music and technology, who is not discriminated against and has access to often costly equipment (be it controllers, CDJs or turntables) is overwhelmingly cis, straight and male. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the “I don’t have a mix online/nowhere to practice because my ex bf had all the equipment” story. Or gxrls saying they never learned how to mix because they didn’t have access to equipment. Or the supportive “nice guy” story who invites you over to “teach you how to mix” but quickly loses his interest once you reject his sexual advances.

It’s refreshing to see groups like Room 4 Resistance, No Shade or Discwoman not only organizing events, but also putting together free mixing workshops for womxn and non-binary people. People are also trying to change things in Romania, with groups like Corp. or Queer Night trying to tilt the gender imbalance locally, only unfortunately their efforts are lacking the infrastructure, institutional support and ideological consistency.

 Where to Now?

 We’re in 2019. DJs like The Black Madona, Josey Rebelle or Octo Octa and Eris Drew are some of the most in-demand people in the circuit. They all approach the dancefloor differently and bring unique views of what a DJ set can be. Yet straight white boys are feeling threatened by their success and are constantly looking for arguments to delegitimize their success. “Yeah, but this person is getting booked everywhere just because it’s cool to be trans now” – as if anyone would go through the intense process of forever altering your body just because queer is “in”! “Oh if I had tits I would get more gigs” – another male DJ I used to call a friend told me when I started playing more in Bucharest. I’ve heard phrases like “but why do women only book other women?” or “how can the super talented boys ever breakthrough in this environment if women are getting all the attention?” more times than I can recount.

Straight white boys need to shut the fuck up! For decades, the vast majority of people in charge of running/booking clubs were straight white men who would only book other straight white men. Yes, there we certainly do see more womxn in line ups, but just as female:pressure cares to remind us periodically, the percentage is still predominantly male. The healthiest path towards building a more diverse and inclusive music world is not having the old gatekeepers trying to educate themselves and perform acts of tokenism, but make space for marginalized people in decision-making positions, because nobody could make more informed, coherent and inspired choices than a person who is deeply involved in the community. Just see Discwoman’s Frankie miracle work over at Bossa Nova Civic in NYC. And it is very likely that with the right people running the show, incidents of abuse and harassment will diminish as well.

Womxn have been so used to be touched without consent and constantly harassed that we’ve been programmed to dismiss such indiscretions as minor inconveniences, something that “comes with the territory”. In order to see an improvement of this state of affairs we have to become more radical in our attitudes against sexism and discrimination. We absolutely need to learn to speak up whenever we encounter misogyny, racism, homo and transphobia and, most importantly, believe womxn when they come forward with a story of abuse of boundaries crossing because whenever we brush it off with things like “he was drunk”, “it was just a joke” or “there are two sides to every story”, we become complicit and contribute to this toxic culture.

The good news is that we can all contribute to changing things. And no, you don’t have to go to a march or join an organization if you want to help out. Change starts in your own immediate community by simply calling out your friends when they say something sexist, not supporting the known abusers and problematic people in the industry and just coming out to see one of the local womxn artists.

We will continue to play, to defend the DJ booth as sometimes the only safe space we might have at the club, to record our music however we can and become ten times better than all male DJs who told us we don’t know, we can’t or we “don’t have the necessary biological conformation”. But, most importantly, we’ll keep making people dance.

images, in order of appearance

queer night at apollo 111, 2017

miss i boiler room, 2016

edited screengrab from comments in the miss i boiler room facebook stream

crowd at miss i boiler room, 2016

ccl at rewire, 2019

all photos courtesy of the author

[yanderedev]

Clearing Up Misunderstandings, Part 7

Occasionally, I see “callout pots” that make a lot of strange claims about me. These callout posts are always composed of out-of-context screenshots, or misinterpretations of my words. I want to write a blog post to clear up some of the worst misunderstandings that were commonly posted in 2016. “YandereDev said that pedophilia is just another sexual orientation!” That’s not what I said. I said that nobody chooses to be a pedophile, just like nobody gets to choose their sexual orientation. I used the words “orientation” and “pedophilia” in separate sentences of the same paragraph, but I did not say that pedophilia IS a sexual orientation. “YandereDev treatened to dox someone into silence!” That’s not how it went down. I said something I didn’t mean while I was fired up up in the middle of an angry rant about someone who had been harassing me for several months. Obviously, it shouldn’t have been taken seriously. It was an “in the heat of the moment” statement, not a genuine threat. “One of the rivals in Yandere Simulator is a pedophile!” Pedophiles are attracted to pre-pubescent children (younger than 14), and Mida Rana is attracted to boys that are older than 14, so this statement isn’t accurate, but that’s beside the point. Sometimes, video games have antagonists who do bad things, and allow you to punish the antagonists for their evil ways. Some villains kill, some villains kidnap, some villains are sexual predators. If you don’t like Mida Rana, just punish her however you see fit, like any other villain in any other video game. “YandereDev said that pedophilia is ‘forbidden love’!” That’s not what I said. I was referring to love between a student and a teacher as forbidden love. Student/teacher relationships are forbidden, irrespective of the age gap between the student and teacher. “YandereDev reads lolicon manga!” There was a thread on 4chan where people were editing this image by putting different things in the bag. It was a meme. I could tell that the image had been taken from a sexual manga, but I didn’t care. To me, it was like any other “reaction image” featuring a character making a silly face. The meme was about putting something funny in the bag, not the character’s age or situation. I edited the image and used it in a blog post. Just because I posted a “reaction face” that came from a manga, this doesn’t mean that I read the manga, or enjoy the content. Reaction faces are reaction faces. Memes are memes. “YandereDev liked a pornographic image of one of his underage characters!” I give “likes” to almost all of the fan art I see on Tumblr, because I am happy and flattered to see people producing artwork based on my creations. This doesn’t mean that I’m aroused by everything that I give a “like” to, or expressing approval of the subject matter of every post that I give a “like” to. “YandereDev accepted nudes from a minor!” That’s not how it happened. The story is pretty long, and probably deserves its own separate blog post, but I’ll give you the short version. In 2009, I had a chatroom. One of the members of the chatroom was a very strange young woman who did a lot of weird things for attention. One day, she sent a private message to every male in the chat. The message was just a link and a “<3″ emoticon; she didn’t even say what was in the link. The link lead to a bunch of nude pictures. This was 8 years ago, so it is hard to remember specifics, but I do recall thinking that she definitely did not look any younger from 18. Eventually, she stopped coming online. Some people theorized that maybe she stopped coming online because she was actually underage, and her parents had taken away her computer after learning what kind of things she was doing online. In 2010, somebody asked me about that situation. My response was very brief and oversimplified. Some people found this chat log from 2010, read my brief and oversimplified explanation, and chose to interpret it as evidence that I “accepted” nudes from a “minor”. This is probably one of the most ridiculous of all the weird rumors that people like to spread about me. There is no way to know for sure who that girl was, or how old she really was. In reality, it was probably just a guy trolling by pretending to be a flirtatious girl. Maybe one day, I’ll write a longer blog post about that weird incident. “YandereDev made fun of suicidal people!” In 2015, someone asked me if it would be possible to drive girls to suicide in Yandere Simulator. I answered, “Yes.” Then, they asked me if girls would commit suicide for silly reasons, or serious reasons. I explained that I did not want people to commit suicide for petty reasons in Yandere Simulator. As an example, I posted a screenshot of a news report about a teenage boy in Russia who committed suicide because his favorite anime character had died. This was not me “making fun of suicidal people”, but providing an example of something that should not cause enough emotional distress to cause a suicide. “YandereDev wrote rape stories!” Game of Thrones has rape scenes. Is Game of Thrones a “rape show”? No, it is a TV show that has very dark subject matter, and characters who are put through traumatic and perilous situations. I have written stories with dark subject matter. Some of my stories involved sexual assault. The sexual assaults were never meant to be “sexy”. A more elaborate answer can be found here. “YandereDev refuses to add dark-skinned characters to the game!” That’s not true. I want the ethnicity ratio in Yandere-chan’s school to match Japan’s ethnicity ratio in the real world. In the real world, 98.5% of the population of Japan are ethnic Japanese. This means that if you went to Japan and encountered 200 people, only 3 would not be ethnic Japanese. If you go to a high school in Japan, you are simply not going to encounter dozens of dark-skinned students. With all of that said, I do plan to include a dark-skinned character in Yandere Simulator’s school in the future. “YandereDev used a transphobic slur!” I have used the term “trap”. However, this term has nothing to do with transgender people. The term “trap” refers to a male who dresses as a female and attempts to trick people into thinking he is a female, as a prank. This word describes someone who is attempting to trick others, not someone who genuinely identifies as another gender. I have used the term “tranny”. This is because I was directly quoting someone else’s statement word-for-word. This is not because I was using the word to demean anyone. I have expressed a dislike for “dickgirls”. Dickgirls - or “futanari” - are a type of Japanese fetish porn. Dickgirls are female anime characters who acquire a dick through a magic potion or some other fantastical reason; the term is not used to describe males who identify as female. “YandereDev steals 3D models and textures!” I sometimes put temporary placeholder assets into the game, with the intention of replacing them with original assets as soon as possible. This is not an uncommon practice for early prototypes of video games. Yandere Simulator is no longer in an “early prototype” stage, but some temporary placeholder assets are still lingering in Yandere Simulator from its earlier days. I am still in the process of removing these assets from the game. “Theft” and “stealing” are very disingenuous ways of describing the situation. It should go without saying that I have no intention to ship the final game with models or images that I don’t have permission to use. “YandereDev doesn’t pay his volunteers!” Please look up the definition of the word “volunteer”. “YandereDev used the word ‘autistic’ as an insult!” A strange person had been harassing me for several months. Eventually, I learned that they were actually an autistic child. This helped me to understand the behavior that I had been observing from them. I proceeded to tell them that I had identified their autism, but also firmly stated that their autism wasn’t any excuse for the behavior that they had been demonstrating for the past several months. This was interpreted as some kind of attack on their autism. It wasn’t. “YandereDev wants to abolish the age of consent!” I never said that. One time, someone told me that they theorized that Yandere Simulator was banned because of having underage characters in certain situations. I said that it would be dumb to ban the game because of an arbitrary number that changes in every country. After I made this statement, this person assumed that I was a pedophile who advocated the idea of having sex with young children, and began asking me very loaded questions in an attempt to demonize me. They challenged me to propose an alternative to age of consent laws. I attempted to come up with a solution, but ultimately, I couldn’t think of any idea better than having age of consent laws. I never advocated for the abolition of the age of consent; I was simply responding to their question. In Conclusion

I have noticed a trend among all of the “Callout Posts” that make bizarre claims about me. The “evidence” in these posts is always:

A heavy exaggeration of the truth

A misinterpretation of my words

An out-of-context screenshot

The contents of these “Callout Posts” is always something that I can clear up with just a paragraph at the most, or a single sentence at the least. The authors of these “Callout Posts” never bother to contact me. They never ask me for clarification. They never ask me to explain myself. They never check with me to verify if something is true. They only do one thing; they interpret my words in the most negative manner possible, frame whatever I’ve done as if it’s a horrible atrocity, and then spread their propaganda as if it’s gospel truth. They've all completely brainwashed themselves into thinking that I’m some kind of evil demon-monster, and they refuse to consider the possibility that they may be mistaken about me. The authors of these “Callout Posts” have constructed a fake YandereDev in their minds. In their imaginations, I am a homophobic, transphobic, racist, sexist, misogynist pedophile. Basically, every bad thing in the world, wrapped up in one package. It’s actually pretty absurd. The “YandereDev” that they have invented is worse than a villain from a Disney film. This is really one of the most bizarre things that has ever happened to me. The authors of these “Callout Posts” truly believe that they are “the good guys”, fighting against “the bad guy”, and that shaming me and slandering me is the right thing to do. The most dangerous type of person is someone who is convinced they are 100% justified in what they are doing, and that there is absolutely no possibility whatsoever that they might be making a mistake. The sad thing is, this post won’t make a bit of difference. The authors of these “Callout Posts” will read this entire post, dismiss the entire thing, and continue to firmly believe that “YandereDev” is some kind of Hitler-Satan-Trump creature. They will probably never, ever stop. They will probably continue doing this forever. For as long as I make video games, I will have to put up with weirdos who dedicate absurd amounts of their time to stalking me, attempting to dig up dirt from my past, and spreading weird propaganda about me. It’s quite a disappointing thing to realize. So, why do they do this? It’s very easy to explain. The reason is simple; they do this because it’s fun. It’s fun to hate. It’s fun to shame. It’s fun to ridicule. It’s fun to make other people look bad. It’s fun to talk trash about others. It’s fun to “expose” other people. It’s fun to ruin someone’s life. It’s fun to ruin someone’s career. All of these things are super fun...if you’re a sadistic scumbag who takes pleasure in harming others. To keep having fun, all they have to do is keep brainwashing themselves to believe that I’m a horrible monster, and dismiss everything I say when I attempt to explain myself. As long as they follow those two simple little rules, they can have unlimited fun. And, as long as they can keep having fun, why would they ever stop? I wonder if you’d like to try a thought experiment for a moment. Please imagine the following scenario: imagine that you’ve spent the past 32 months of your life working on a project that is supposed to make people smile, make people happy, and let people have a good time. Then, someone digs through your entire Internet history, finds every single thing you’ve ever said that can make you look bad if it’s out-of-context, and convinces people to hate you, based on a series of misunderstandings that you could easily clear up, if they simply spoke to you and asked you to explain what you were saying. Sounds like quite a nightmarish scenario, doesn’t it? I wonder how you’d feel if you found yourself in that situation. I wonder how you’d handle it. I wonder what you’d do about it. In closing, here’s what I’d like to say: If you’ve ever come across a screenshot of something I’ve said, and you think that this screenshot makes me look really bad, you are fully welcome to personally contact me - through tumblr private messages or through e-mail - and ask me to explain or clarify whatever is bothering you. I know I’ve said “I’m busy, don’t e-mail me!” many times in the past, but I’ll make an exception in this case; you’re totally welcome to contact me any time if you’d like me to clear up some bizarre rumor that you’ve heard. Thanks for taking the time to read this post.

[braindamageforbeginners]

Campbell’s “The Highwayman”

So. I'm starting treatment tomorrow. Which means this might be my very last post. Sort of.I should point out that, although I'm afraid of dying (that's hardly unique), that's never been my chief fear. Don't get me wrong, I'm very scared of that possibility (and it's still one of the likelier options), but, far and away, the greater fear has always been that I'll suffer some sort of severe, permanent brain damage resulting in noticeable neurocognitive defects. Or, to make that less cerebral (as, indeed, my oncologists will make me - literally), I'm worried that treatment will make me dumber. Or mess up my memory abilities. Or steal my scientific literacy. Or steal my literacy. Or just make me less... well, me. I'm not great at being myself; I think I'd be hilariously bad at being someone else.

I've written elsewhere about how neat and strange individuality is - just on a biological and biochemical level (I’ll be repeating and/or paraphrasing some stuff I’ve written elsewhere, so forgive me if you’ve read this). To help me out this time (because I no longer have enough time to be direct), I thought I'd use Zeno's Paradox. Zeno was an ancient philosopher, who came up with the following hypothetical, and I've updated it for the modern reader (you're welcome). Let's put LeBron James in a race against a tortoise; however, that's hardly fair, so we'll give the tortoise a 20 ft (6 m, to my communist friends) head-start. LeBron will never even reach the tortoise, because, before he can overtake the tortoise, he has to cross half of those 20 feet (10 feet); before he gets there, he has to cross half of 10 feet (5 feet), and so on. The numbers get ridiculously small, but you get the idea - you have to cross infinity to get anywhere (which is also what it feels like convincing the insurance company to pay for radiation treatment, but that’s a different topic for a different time). The fact that people walk didn’t deter or invalidate Zeno’s hypothesis (philosophy, while fascinating, has very little practical application); then, many centuries later, in one of those moments I live for, science and math overtook philosophy and invalidated it. In this case, it came in the form of calculus, which takes all those infinite little fractions and adds them together to get a real, usable number (unlike philosophy, mathematics is enormously helpful, albeit sometimes in highly specific situations). The biological punchline of all this is that you are the end-product of countless interactions, collisions, mistakes, and encounters, from the sub-atomic level to the moon’s gravitational force on Earth (the tides are important for life on this planet). Human beings are very similar; it takes a lifetime of small, slight, random encounters, interactions, and collisions to make you who you are; perfectly formed by countless infinitesimal incidents that we can’t recreate.

The second part of this concept requires a little help from you, dear reader (I know, homework; I’m sure there are a few of you would switch places with me to get out of it)(also, if that swap were possible, I guarantee you that I would take it, no questions asked). Make a list of things that make you who you are - in excruciating detail, and including the most minute and irrelevant details; from the stuff that barely counts (”has a weird recurring dream about Godzilla”)(I can’t be the only person that happens to) to the big stuff (”loves spouse/kids/dog”). To connect this to Zeno; this is an endlessly long list. You want to write a lot of assorted details (”fully remembers details from Thanksgiving 2010″) and random quirks. Now, you’re going to hand that list to a random stranger and ask them to cross off five items on this list; those things are no longer a part of you. According to Zeno (and my oncologists), those things probably aren’t important in the grand scheme of things, and you will still be you. But will you, really? Will you know who you are? Will you know what’s missing from that list? And can you get it back, or is it gone forever, or is it not worth it to recover what’s missing? And when do you stop being “you?” Obviously, there are a few big-ticket items that would permanently - and terribly - alter you (see that “loves spouse/kids/dog” one), but, if you look at that list, it’s not a dozen major things that define you, it’s the countless, tiny, unimportant things (I realize there’s some overlap with the Theseus’ Ship, but I like math). Again, according to Zeno and my oncologists, these probably aren’t worth fretting over, but it’s not them on the chopping block.

The concept that we’re working toward is a working understanding/empathy of what it’s like to live with brain damage/neurocognitive impairment/neurodegenerative disease, so I’ll be a little more blunt. Imagine a life in which you are unable to remember where you put your keys, phone, and wallet. The minute you set them down, bam, they’re gone from your mind, even if you leave them in the exact same place you always leave them. If you want to leave the house, you have to physically look for them until you find these items. You’ll still experience the same aggravation and frustration as anyone else, the only difference is, you’re usually unaware that there was a time - very recently - when this wasn’t a real problem. Those are the good days - the ones when you’re smart enough to observe these sorts of deficits. Other days - and these constitute at least 75% of your time - are when you don’t have that frame of reference; you’re just aggravated and upset that leaving the house now takes 45 extra minutes. And tired. And, a philosophical question that I can answer; what’s worse than being dumb? Being not-quite smart enough. Imagine a world where you’re intelligent enough to be ambitious - but not intelligent enough to accomplish those ambitions. That’s the fun little parting gift from neurosurgery #1. This is why I’m get a little paranoid whenever a clinician admits that there will be some brain damage - it’s like statisticians using the word “dismal,” it’s got to be really bad if they’re going to warn you about it prior to starting treatment. And there are still no guarantees that this will work, or even that it’ll buy me anything more than a few months, and that’s just a few months of my heart beating. What if this is as good as I will ever feel, for the rest of my life? I’m not feeling great right now, but the thought that this is as good as it gets is, to say the least, exceptionally unpleasant (on Thursday, in the final pre-serum screening, I was given three words to remember - “truck,” “apple,” and “blue” - and I couldn’t remember them at the end of a ten-minute interview. Not exactly hopeful, since I haven’t even started treatment, but the stress and lack of sleep is definitely a factor to consider). And that’s definitely not going to get better in the near future, unless my doctors start prescribing me more powerful drugs (with my luck, I come down with a horrible disease the minute the medical establishment starts getting paranoid about opiate precriptions)(but, hey, thinking positively, marijuana will be legal here in a few weeks)(I mean, uh, drugs are bad and you should never take them, kids)(unless they’re nearly-fatal drugs prescribed by a licensed doctor to, uh, kill very specific pieces of you)(yes, that’s how this medieval cancer treatment monkey-business works).

I’ve also thought a lot about the stages of grief, like you do when you’re mostly just waiting to either die or the treatment to work (and this sort of horrible uncertainty is - far and away - the most unpleasant emotional situation I’ve ever experienced), however, no one seems to have informed my limbic system, because I’m hitting all five of those simultaneously. Sort of, I’m still stuck in “bargaining,” I still can’t escape the idea that, maybe, with the right treatment and doctors, I’ll make it past this one - of course, the basic mathematic probability that I’ll almost certainly die within the next decade hasn’t really sunk in, but that’s also because I’m so exhausted and scared all the time that basic planning beyond a 72-hour window is completely beyond me (this might be some sort of self-preservation thing).

This is not to say that I’m automatically opposed to change, but the potential for dramatic and immediate neurocognitive change is dangerously high. Imagine the sorts of personality and emotional changes that occur just due to hormones, or antidepressants, or other drugs, and you can imagine the changes that can occur by dramatically altering my anatomy. Sort of; this is more like slowly stripping out pieces of me, and potentially who I am. Which is unpleasant enough, but, because I’m still tumbling down the rabbit hole, I recently learned something just as problematic: you only get one radiotherapy course per organ per lifetime. Which means I am pretty much all in on this gamble, and if this disease ever returns (spoilers; this is the second time I’ve come developed a malignant (or potentially malignant) glioma), thanks for playing. I will probably, thanks to my lab rat connections, be in line for whatever crazy new, experimental treatments that science can concoct, which is a good thing. But, how many AIDS patients died waiting for science to catch up to them? And, since we’re cutting funding for health insurance and medical research, is that realistically a good gamble? These things bother me in an abstract sense, but that 72-hour planning window is helpful in this situation.

This blog exists to painstakingly document my path so that the next person in my position might have an idea of what to do (or not to do), but, more importantly (to me, anyway), I’m doing this for the exact reason any human has ever done anything - from making the great pyramids to having children (although I realize the stated rationale at the time might be slightly different) - that there might be some small scrap of me that remains in the world, if the battle goes ill. It’s sort of like scribbling “Kilroy was here” in wet cement (and blog sites owned by Yahoo will last forever, right?). I’m not going to leave any grand legacy for the ages, unless everything goes much, much better than expected and, even then, I’m not likely to change the world (for all you future generations that might be reading this, your self-confidence decreases dramatically when faced with a grisly ending). This blog is also, if everything goes right, a baseline, a form of self-reflection for me to figure out a way to get back here, if everything goes well (again, even if everything goes flawlessly and better-than-expected, there are still going to be some neurocognitive changes). I don’t know who will be writing this thing in 24 hours, or in several weeks (major side-effects and problems are expected to start showing around Week #3), hopefully that guy won’t be too different from the person typing all this, and, if that’s the case, hopefully this will be some sort of guide to get back to normal (well, “normal” for me). And maybe someone else can get similar use out of this thing.

Obviously, there are going to be some days where I don’t feel like writing (if I go weeks without checking in, you can start to panic), or I’m too busy (if, God forbid, you develop cancer, you’ll spend many, many happy hours in the hospital), so I thought I’d just give a quick run-down, starting with height and weight (I realize those are mostly-irrelevant, and I won’t mention my height again, unless that changes). Hopefully, that won’t be too hard to keep up with over the coming weeks. HEIGHT: 6′ (183 cm) WEIGHT: about 210 lb (95-ish kilos) CONCENTRATION: Good, though I’m somewhat distracted; ability to start and focus on tasks is great, although completion isn’t always guaranteed (I still haven’t finished watching the latest episode of “Happy,” for example). Basic tasks are still pretty easy, but you don’t get many points for that outside of a psych researcher’s office. MEMORY: Not good, for me (I usually have close-to-eidetic memory), but still better than the average person’s. Still, using myself as a baseline, there’s been some noticeable-but-not-significant deterioration in that area, but, again, I’m not getting much sleep and I’m super-stressed. Still, I’m not forgetting the important stuff, yet. APPETITE: Good. I’m still eating as much as I usually do, which is a lot. ACTIVITY LEVEL: Good. I didn’t go to the gym today or yesterday, but since I went to the gym four or five times over the last week, I’m not going to beat myself up too much for it. SLEEP QUALITY: Nowhere near good, but much better than it was two weeks ago (but that’s not saying much, since I’ve gotten about 2-6 hours of sleep, on average, over the last month). Still, I’ve never slept very well (and I’m probably never going to sleep well again, not counting general anaesthesia), so it’s a little hard to gauge that. COORDINATION/DEXTERITY: Much, much, much better than it was this time a month ago, but my whole left side is still about 5-15% below-normal. I’m readily completing basic two-handed tasks, but I’m not going to be a concert pianist any time soon. Or in the next life, come to that (assuming there is a next life).

Tune in soon for the continuation of the reality-TV remake of “Flowers for Algernon.” And a very merry fuckin’ Christmas.

[deesdiaries]

Roundtable: What Happened to Tumblr?

After 11 years, founder David Karp is leaving—and it might mean that the platform is finally fading

BY ALYSSA BEREZNAK HANNAH GIORGIS ALISON HERMAN KATE KNIBBS VICTOR LUCKERSON MOLLY MCHUGH, AND KATIE BAKER

NOV 29, 2017, 8:30AM EST

Nearly 11 years after launching Tumblr in his mother’s apartment, David Karp announced this week that he’s stepping down as head of the social network. His departure signals a bleak future for the site, which has struggled to grow and turn a profit since it was acquired by Yahoo in 2013 for $1.1 billion. Even Karp’s goodbye email to staffers had a tinge of mourning to it: “I look back with so much pride. At a generation of artists, writers, creators, curators, and crusaders that have redefined our culture, and who we have helped to empower.”

Karp’s not wrong. Before Tumblr was sucked into the purple-paned corporate labyrinth that is Yahoo, it was a hotbed of excellent online content: a lovely, creative community that pumped out original GIFs, memes, and niche-interest blogs at an impressive rate. People went there to be entertained, to connect with like-minded peers, and to ogle pics of hungover owls. But over the years—as competitors like Facebook and Instagram have grown—that creative energy has slowly drained from the site. It’s likely only a matter of time until Verizon shutters the company and dissects it for parts. The question now: How did we get here? Ringer staffers Katie Baker, Hannah Giorgis, Alison Herman, Kate Knibbs, Victor Luckerson, and Molly McHugh weigh in. —Alyssa Bereznak

____________________________________________

(Read remainder of the article below the cut.)

This article suggests an ominous future for tumblr.  Personally, I’d hate to see it end.  My tumblr addiction began with the True Blood fandom on May 14, 2012 when I opened my blog as trueblooddiaries.tumblr.com.  When the HBO True Blood series ended and Charlaine Harris published her last awful book of the series, I changed mu URL to deesdiaries (simply for a lack of a better alternative or lack of imagination).  

How and when did you begin on tumblr?

Let’s start off on a positive note: What are your fondest memories of Tumblr in its heydey?

Molly McHugh: There was once a Tumblr where an artist would draw scenes from Craigslist Missed Connections pages. I loved that. I also really enjoyed making an MRW GIF blog when I lived in the Caribbean.

Alison Herman: I was a party crasher—I first logged on in 2010 or 2011, which I’ve been told is past its *real* heyday. I remember tentatively asking my friend what “what is air” means; I had no idea how thoroughly my brain was about to be broken.

Hannah Giorgis: I met some of my best friends because of Tumblr! Heben Nigatu and I stumbled upon each other's blogs way back in 2010 or 2011 I think. We were both shocked to find another Ethiopian girl grappling with some of the same issues (racism, sexism, etc., at predominantly white institutions and, you know, also in America). Neither of us had ever encountered that IRL. We ended up meeting in person the next year when I interned in New York, and I was connected to so many great folks in her orbit then—many of whom are now my closest friends here in New York, five years later.

Herman: It's mocked for it now, but Tumblr also taught me a lot of the basics of social justice discourse, mostly by just reading the perspectives of people whose backgrounds were different from my own. If Twitter is an ideological silo, Tumblr was a horizon opener.

Katie Baker: I was working in finance in 2008 and bothering a friend with constant emails when he finally responded: “Hey, have you considered starting a Tumblr?” Little did I know that it would be the start of a whole new career. … I felt like I had finally found “my people” even if it turned out that “my people” were, like, weirdos who liked reblogging Joe Biden memes and writing whispery posts about blogger drama. (One of the early Tumblr memes that really spoke to me was the great “Sad Guys on Trading Floors,” which made its debut shortly after I joined. It was weirdly comforting in a time of huge financial and societal upheaval.)

Alyssa Bereznak: I got into Tumblr when I first moved to New York in 2010 (which, yes, is pretty late in the game). I was delighted to find extremely specific pages that celebrated the weirdness of the city, like Halloween or Williamsburg? or Accidental Chinese Hipsters.

McHugh: Just the other day, my aunt texted me that she'd bought a cookbook called Thug Kitchen. I was going to explain that that used to just be a Tumblr, but what would the point be?

Giorgis: To Alison’s note, I appreciate that Tumblr is what helped give me the words for why something like Thug Kitchen, helmed by white people, really is troublesome (beyond just the icky feeling it gave me in my gut).

McHugh: Totally. I was going to explain everything wrong with it, but I think it would have been entirely lost. It was just wild to me that some people see Thug Kitchen as a cookbook that exists on its own.

Herman: It's hard to explain outside the context of Tumblr, right? Tumblr really did give users an almost secret language.

What set the Tumblr community apart from other social networks?

Herman: There’s a really obvious and powerful symbolism to the heart button, I think; pile-ons definitely happened, but Tumblr was always a way more positive place than almost any other social network. It was a home for enthusiasms!

Knibbs: What I always liked about Tumblr was the lack of emphasis on shuttling everything into one feed. It was more about discovery than scrolling quickly through whatever an algorithm told you would be most relevant. It really catered to rabbit holes and niches. Also, Shitty New Yorker Cartoon Captions didn’t exist anywhere else.

Bereznak: I always think about the bone controversy—in which people accused one practicing "witch" of stealing human bones for spells—as a good example for the network’s tolerance for very niche interests and sensitivity toward even the most bizarre topics of discussion. The response to the incident wasn’t, “What is this person doing practicing witchcraft with bones?” It was, “Any knowledgeable witch knows this is a very good way to piss off the spirits.”

Baker: I think for me it was the fact that it even was a social network, as opposed to the other blogging platforms of the time. I remember trying to start a Blogspot blog, because I read and loved so many of them, but I felt like I was just typing into the void and had no idea how to get involved in the link economy or anything like that. (In those days getting a Gawker “Blogorrhea” link was an epic accomplishment.)

Giorgis: Something about the quasi anonymity of Tumblr enabled both community and personal growth in a way that platforms like Facebook and Twitter—which feel very persona driven—don't allow for. On Tumblr you didn't have to worry about your family and friends finding out that you reblogged 500 Misfits gifsets. The site let you explore what you love—and what upsets you—with enthusiasm and energy, and connect with people who might share those with you while also introducing you to different things, concepts, etc.

Herman: Also, to get really basic: the mixed-media aspect! It was pretty to look at AND you could have long-form thoughts/discussions.

McHugh: It allowed for a lot more interpretation. Not just the content, but the design. There is no social network now that gives you even half as much flexibility. Everyone’s Instagram profile looks the same. There’s a lot more monotony across other social networks that I think lends us to scrolling mindlessly and not really FINDING anything. Tumblr was more exploratory partly because of this.

Giorgis: The Wikipedia of social networks!

Knibbs: It also existed in that sweet spot where blogs still mattered, and made it easy to connect those bloggers together.

Baker: At the time, I think even Facebook didn’t have quite the same “self-publishing tools,” if you can call it that, that it does now—I’d have to look up the history of Facebook to be clear on the timeline, but for a while, writing a status update still meant answering the prompt “Katie Baker is …”

Herman: Does anyone remember those “me on Facebook”/”me on Tumblr” memes?

Giorgis: Absolutely. I think a lot of what feels like modern Twitter humor has its roots in early Tumblr memes, especially the vaguely meta ones that reference the platform itself.

Herman: Tumblr also felt friendlier than other famously weird internet zones like Reddit or 4chan. I still felt like I was on a cool detour, but I wasn't in the Wild West, you know?

Bereznak: Yeah! Even the more risky adult content Tumblrs leaned toward sex positivity, not raunchiness. There was never really a fear that you might happen upon a deeply disturbing GIF or something.

Victor Luckerson: I kind of feel like Tumblr’s ability to propagate memes was the beginning of its undoing. I only ever consumed Tumblr content passively, but I primarily recall it as the vehicle through which memes—which I was familiar with as a trawler of message boards since my parents got us dial-up internet in the sixth grade—became a mainstream medium. When What Should We Call Me blew up around 2011, it was kind of jarring to see internet humor suddenly become something that people of all ages and backgrounds consumed. Then this type of humor was quickly co-opted by Twitter/Facebook accounts.

Herman: WHAT SHOULD WE CALL ME! I can't believe a single person invented the concept of the reaction GIF. It's a universal internet behavior that can be traced back to a user who took the practice mainstream. That’s wild.

Bereznak: How is the What Should We Call Me person not included in every “Top Internet Innovators” list of all time?!

Do we think that Yahoo really ever understood what Tumblr was for? What did it do to hurt or help the site?

Bereznak: I should disclose that before this, I was a reporter at Yahoo News, and was forced to use Tumblr as a CMS there. It was not ideal, but I won't say anything more for fear of breaching an NDA and being sued.

Knibbs: It doesn’t sound like the company ever got what Tumblr was, beyond that it was cool with the teens. I’d really love to know whether David Karp thought Yahoo would help Tumblr or if he just wanted that sweet blog money.

Herman: The detail in that Mashable storyabout an executive trying to hype them by saying they could “create the next-generation PDF” …

Bereznak: Also the fact that some Tumblr employees didn’t know what Yahoo was …

Luckerson: Lol, they were lying.

McHugh: They at the very least knew about Yahoo Answers. The only user overlap between Yahoo and Tumblr is Yahoo Answers.

Giorgis: I will admit that it's a bit hard for me as someone who used to be a very, very regular user of the site to disentangle my reflexive irritation with the Yahoo acquisition news from any sort of objective evaluation of what happened. Did Tumblr users just react dramatically to news of change? Maybe! But what incentive was there to think Yahoo would bring anything good to the site?

Herman: It’s weird—I can't point to any material impact of the acquisition on my user experience, but the decline in relevance definitely started soon after.

Luckerson: Yahoo’s goal must have been to have more content to serve ads against right? Once you refocus Tumblr as a blog for funny GIFs rather than a social network, it becomes much more likely to have its territory taken over by others. Basically, I could find plenty of memes on Twitter or Facebook by the Yahoo years, and that’s all I ever really used Tumblr for.

Bereznak: The narrative of the acquisition was that Yahoo would help Tumblr monetize, something that Karp had always been pretty reluctant to do himself. I always felt like he was protective of the company in that sense, and that his decision to sell it to Yahoo was basically a matter of: I can’t do this to my own child.

Baker: Alyssa, I think that’s a good way to think about it. Karp was too close to his Tumblr son. And also, because of how intimate Tumblr felt, I think the users felt more entitled to weigh in on the decisions he made and take them personally.

There’s a kind of cynical ethos that “everything good on the internet dies.” Do you think Tumblr was doomed before it was ever bought by Yahoo?

Luckerson: There is no way to scale the intimate connections that attracted early users, so yes, if their goal was to become a social media giant, definitely doomed.

Herman: I think a lot of people just outgrew it, too. I know people from Tumblr who are still big on the internet; they just use different platforms.

Knibbs: After we dismantle Facebook and Google and enter the Second Golden Age of Blogging, I think Tumblr could still rise again.

Giorgis: I still occasionally retreat to Tumblr when everything else is Too Much, but it makes more sense for me as someone who’s in a different professional place to primarily use Twitter/Facebook now (ugh).

Baker: Yeah, in some ways it’s the natural life cycle of a cool social network, I guess. If it weren’t Yahoo it would be something else.

Let’s finish it off with your all-time favorite obscure Tumblr dot com site.

Bereznak: Mine, as you may have guessed from the intro, is the hungover owl one.

McHugh: It’s kind of basic, but I enjoyed Cats That Look Like Ron Swanson.

Luckerson: Poor Michelle, about all the times Destiny’s Child’s Michelle Williams was snubbed by fate/cosmic circumstance/Beyoncé.

Giorgis: I don't know that it was obscure, but I still love Things I Learned from Sex and the City. Something about seeing a million screencaps from the show just perfectly highlighted the absurdity of its premises and dialogue—and also why there's still so much to love!

Herman: I’m gonna be extremely on brand here and vote for True Detective Conversations.

Baker: I’m Remembering! made me feel so seen. I lived in gripping fear of winding up on Table for One.

Bereznak: Man, I’m Remembering! was such a gem.

Baker: SUCH. The tag that was like “my brother josh.”

Knibbs: I was and am obsessed with the Old Loves Tumblr.

Bereznak: Man, I’m Remembering! was such a gem.