Bling-Bling

I do believe that Tangent editor Dave Truesdale just called today's SF writers a bunch of leftist girly-men. I'd say that solves the mystery of who elected the guy who thinks girls are too stupid to write SF to judge the Nebs.

There are some problems with Dave's theory, though. I wouldn't call Nick carefully coiffed or lacking in imagination. I seriously doubt Tobias's nails are all that manicured or go bling-blinging in the sunlight. Also, if you think that men who write SF with deep feelings are all faggots, you really shouldn't dress it up with moronic euphemisms like metrosexual. Remember, you're a manly man, you can use the eff word when condescending to anyone who threatens the foundation of your masculinity. No matter how thin or shaky that foundation is.

I do understand why Dave feels threatened, though. Norman is getting a little long in the tooth. All those freaking Euro writers just hijacked the Hugo noms away from America this year. And they made McCaffrey a grandmaster. JM&J, next thing you know another romance writer will slip in the back door and have more of that trash shelved next to the Holy Scripture of Heinlein.

Anyway, Dave, perhaps you and all the other hysterical homophobes conservative right SF lovers should make some sort of formal declaration. Say SF -- all SF -- may only be written by real manly men, like this piece of work. Then you and Orson and Beale can go out drinking and beat up a couple of male hairdressers. Sound good?