I think every previous post I’ve made on the Sad Puppies has had some vaguely punny, quasi-funny, at least marginally puppy-related title to it, but I didn’t really feel like putting forth the effort this time.
You guys “No Awarded” Jerry Pournelle.
So, congrats, I guess? You’ve successfully proven Larry Correia’s point to a degree far in excess of anything he’d ever hoped for. The small fraction of fandom that cares about the Hugo process, and as such understands the how and why of the award, that isn’t involved in your “heroic struggle” probably cares even less about the award now than they did before.
So yeah. The Hugos can officially be said to be “By Worldcon, For Worldcon”, and that’s great and all, but realize that what that really means is that you can’t even pretend to be “Fandom’s Award” anymore.
That title is going to go elsewhere, and as a result, the significance of the Hugo will dwindle a little more each year. It may remain the oldest award, and that’s a bit of prestige no amount of political maneuvering can completely dispel, but that’s all it will be. It will continue to matter to the faithful of Worldcon, because after all, they’ve fought tooth and nail to prove that it’s their award, but to the rest?
Eh, the Dragon Awards kick off in a couple weeks.
There is something uniquely depressing about watching people double down on the worst of all possible options. As if the reaction they got for it last year simply never reached their ears, and instead all they heard was the self-congratulatory applause that no doubt filled their minds, as categories tumbled like dominoes before their wrath.
I hate to break it to you guys, but outside of your little convention (and yes, Worldcon is a little convention), the people who’ve been watching this mess unfold, no matter whether they believed Correia’s original assertion or not?
They’re disgusted with you.
Probably the only person in “Fandom” that they like less than the subset that is “Worldcon Fandom”, right now, is Vox Day. Because while you might have been the ones to blow it all up, he’s the one who handed you the dynamite.
Probably giggling the entire time.
I get it; you got put into an awkward situation. It was, in fact, a no-win situation, a veritable Kobayashi Maru, but as with that fictional test, the real point here was to see how you’d handle it. To see what you could salvage out of the situation, and whether or not you could face it with dignity and aplomb.
What was not expected was for you to sit petulantly in your chair and press the damned self-destruct button.