Some people read a folktale, fairytale or a story about people making a deal with the Devil, they might wonder why anyone does, when Old Scratch is a cheat and a liar, but ever are there more people willing to take the ticket, whose hearts are filled with lust, greed and all else.
One might as well wonder why anyone falls for conmen.
People want to believe the fool's gold is real, that their dark master won't cast them aside once the cock cows and dawn comes.
"In my case, I was convinced that there would be a knock on the door, and a man with a clipboard (I don't know why he carried a clipboard, in my head, but he did) would be there, to tell me it was all over, and they had caught up with me, and now I would have to go and get a real job, one that didn't consist of making things up and writing them down, and reading books I wanted to read. And then I would go away quietly and get the kind of job where you don't have to make things up any more."
There's telling stories, and then, there's making things up, lying.
It's not a man with a clipboard knocking.
Death, defeated, serves Heaven now.
Heavily he knocks, and woe to the unrepentant when he enters.
To me, this feels like the Joss Whedon scandal in that I sort of recognized decades ago that these men were sex perverts, and everyone loved them for it. Now it turns out they're a DIFFERENT KIND of sex pervert than the audience, and everyone's angry. Look, you all decided to let coomer artists control the metanarrative. This is what happens. Set some boundaries and it won't happen anymore.
The stereotype of anyone fully embedded in Hollywood or the BBC is that they're some kind of sex pest or pervert.
So Mr. Gaiman was ripe for either an opportunistic #metoo, or an opportunistic 60minutes/ProjectVeritas/scoop. Or both.
It's hard luck being part of a group, or tribe with a bad reputation. And not easy to fix, whether the rep is deserved or slanders. Or some combo of both.
Some people read a folktale, fairytale or a story about people making a deal with the Devil, they might wonder why anyone does, when Old Scratch is a cheat and a liar, but ever are there more people willing to take the ticket, whose hearts are filled with lust, greed and all else.
One might as well wonder why anyone falls for conmen.
People want to believe the fool's gold is real, that their dark master won't cast them aside once the cock cows and dawn comes.
"In my case, I was convinced that there would be a knock on the door, and a man with a clipboard (I don't know why he carried a clipboard, in my head, but he did) would be there, to tell me it was all over, and they had caught up with me, and now I would have to go and get a real job, one that didn't consist of making things up and writing them down, and reading books I wanted to read. And then I would go away quietly and get the kind of job where you don't have to make things up any more."
There's telling stories, and then, there's making things up, lying.
It's not a man with a clipboard knocking.
Death, defeated, serves Heaven now.
Heavily he knocks, and woe to the unrepentant when he enters.
To me, this feels like the Joss Whedon scandal in that I sort of recognized decades ago that these men were sex perverts, and everyone loved them for it. Now it turns out they're a DIFFERENT KIND of sex pervert than the audience, and everyone's angry. Look, you all decided to let coomer artists control the metanarrative. This is what happens. Set some boundaries and it won't happen anymore.
Reminds me of the "safe horny" discussion that broke out.
The stereotype of anyone fully embedded in Hollywood or the BBC is that they're some kind of sex pest or pervert.
So Mr. Gaiman was ripe for either an opportunistic #metoo, or an opportunistic 60minutes/ProjectVeritas/scoop. Or both.
It's hard luck being part of a group, or tribe with a bad reputation. And not easy to fix, whether the rep is deserved or slanders. Or some combo of both.