You haven't payed much attention to anything Hollywood has put out in the last decade or so.   There's just so many YouTube channels talking about how Hollywood is destroying many of the legacies/franchises over the past decade.  This list includes, but is not limited to: Doctor Who, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Marvel, and DC ...just to name a few.

Needless to say, I've taken up sticking to services like Tubi which show a lot of "older" (i.e. 30 year old) content that's actually worth the re-watch.   Plus I've dusted off some of the stuff I've had lying around (like the Monster High movies) in order to watch again.

This message was deleted by a moderator, as it was inflammatory, at 05:13, Sat 13 Apr.

This message was deleted by a moderator, as it was moot, at 05:13, Sat 13 Apr.

This message was deleted by a moderator, as it was moot, at 05:14, Sat 13 Apr.

This message was deleted by a moderator, as it was moot, at 05:14, Sat 13 Apr.

I can understand the complaints about changing beloved franchises.  You grow up imagining it a certain way and there's a period of estrangement when you're confronted with the way someone else imagines it.  When we're talking about turning books into movies, it's pretty easy (although not very interesting) to just ascribe any changes to something that you don't have any respect for, lazy greed, trying to force "woke" culture onto others, or whatever.

In reality I think the main shock comes from the difference between what you expected and what you are given.  We can argue about whether the quality of today's entertainment is greater or lesser than yesterday's, although I think if you were objective you would find that storytelling is a LOT tighter today on average.  People are more world savvy, and less forgiving about inconsistencies.
This message was last edited by a moderator, as it was moot, at 05:17, Sat 13 Apr.

This message was deleted by a moderator, as it was moot, at 05:15, Sat 13 Apr.

In reply to AugustusGloop (msg # 2298):

It isn't the case of changing a franchise; it's completely mutilating it to the point where it's barely recognizable.    It's comparative to having the X-Men be about a group of white female rappers who's stage names are the same as the comic characters.   And as this post will likely get deleted too, I'll just stop here.
This message was last edited by a moderator, as it was against the ToU, at 06:48, Sun 14 Apr.

In reply to Hunter (msg # 2300):

Afraid you're wrong.  You're post won't get deleted, since most of it doesn't break any forum/site rules, unlike the first post in the set that were removed.  It has however been edited to remove the one comment that does break the site's rules.

Apart from that first post, only posts that were rendered completely irrelevant by the removal of one or more previous posts were deleted (ie: those replying to posts that no longer existed).

Oh, I don't know. A polynesian is king of Atlantis. I seem to be the only one to realize that's two different oceans on opposite sides of the world.

OK that's a fair argument, and it's clear that as a species we still have a ways to go.

I’m sure people probably complained about Virgil ripping off Homer in ye olden days too

I'm having serious cognitive decline. I have a very difficult time communicating. I think I'm being clear but I am often asked to clarify what I mean. This is both in day to day face to face encounters with everyone except my best friend, and online to anyone who hasn't known me for years. Even people I've gamed with for years I sometimes seem to have trouble being understood.

Trust me, I'm verbose. It isn't something that's being caused by saying too little. I really thought, for awhile, it was saying too much. I'd/I'll go on too many tangents in one post. Even cutting back, for me at least, I seem to cause confusion. So I think this is a problem I'm having.

It's not just one way either. I have to be comfortable enough to ask people "what do you mean?" and them be willing to help me. Often times it's (I guess?) too frustrating, or too trivial to, and they'll say "don't worry about it" or something like that. This is mostly online, but it occurs face to face too.

I a separate issue, mostly at least, my Parkinsonism is having more bad days than even a month ago. I just sat down down fifteen minutes ago with a cool cup of tea and drank a few swigs before sitting. I sat down, and I just dropped, as in pull on just lost grip, on the cup, and poured over 300 ml onto myself. Luckily I just got up, so I didn't need to totally redress, but it's not that uncommon to have that occur; or to fall over.

I have Tourettes, and my Tourettes causes serious tics. "Getting sick" to put it mildly is one tic. Another is head smashing, which is what it sounds like. I take Haldol, which lowers my tics of this nature to near non-existent. I still say pejoratives. Which is, thankfully, something my roommate has explained to our neighbors, two units of which the pejorative is most derogatory. So I don't let loose, but if I have to tic, I don't stifle it.

The Haldol is keeping me from health problems, and I've tried many other medications, though none in the last fifteen years. Haldol is a magic bullet. Upping the dose when these tics severity, penultimate to only felony charges, increased helped accordingly. That is, upping the dose did what it was intended to.

Well, I explain the Tourettes because that is what is causing the Parkinsonism. It's not Parkinson's disease, and so it might be reversible, if I stop taking the Haldol. If I get a different prescription. That's why I mention the Tourettes, although saying pejoratives is very upsetting. So venting my feelings of shame and guilt helps. Even though logically I know I don't want to, emotionally I feel like dog----. So that venting helps, but it's not the point.

---

The bottom line on RPoL and point of this vent

I'm failing to advance my games in anywhere near regularly. I really feel like I can't GM, because it takes me hours to make one post. I can write, I can imagine I can PLAY, but mixing in the cross communication, I guess, and being the focal point...I get maybe two posts in a week, and that's super fast. My current rate is four in four months. That's about the point of slowness I'm at.

I don't know how well I can play, because I haven't until recently, but I have the chance. Two games, same system, one solo, one group.

I'll be sad if I have to leave RPoL, but at the same time, my games are functionally crawling. They aren't on life support, but they struggle at best.

---

I am in touch with two doctors on the medical side. I , sadly, need more, but can't afford it; even with Medicare. I may be using medical tourism, as scummy as that is. I don't know, but I'm seriously pursuing it. A few European hospitals may be able to properly unpack my full scope, and I may move to that country (if I can). One place in India looks perfect in one way, but bad in a very symmetrical way.

I just wanted those that read this to know the reasoning for my the RPoL struggle, but also that I'm not ignoring the doctor medical advice. I'm getting less help than I need, but I'm pursuing the help I can get with people whose job it is to do that. So I wanted that to be clear--that is the vent, but it's germane to the point, which is why I might have to give up RPoL. I liken it to an old friend of mine. Not that old I guess, four years...  Anyway! He can't play basketball anymore. He went to KU and was on the second roster, and he loved it. He went on to find a job as an auction clerk that later...anyway I'm getting distracted. I take solace that he knows what it's like to have to give up something he loves, that he really has a passion for, but just can't do it anymore due to his health. I really feel like it leaves a void to not be active on RPoL, but at the same time, that void is mostly in my time; not that scope of the games I actually put content into.

I'm not "quitting" RPoL, but I may be relegated to just chatting, fullstop, and/or playing in solo games. Makes me sad.

Your health comes first!

I needed to remind myself recently that this is supposed to be a fun activity, and not a competition between players and GM.

In reply to Hunter (msg # 2307):

Which were you feeling you had to be competitive as? Player or GM?

In reply to V_V (msg # 2308):

GM.   I really don't have good luck lately with finding games that last.
This message was last edited by the user at 12:01, Fri 14 June.

The summer doldrums that are upon us, do not help in that search.

This message was deleted by the user at 00:30, Sat 15 June.

Sometimes, it feels like such a waste of time and effort to bother writing a detailed, descriptive, coherent, and thorough GM update post for a game full of players that don't pay attention to detail and have to be basically led by the nose and guided to post - if they bother to post at all.

They say that being a parent will make you feel overlooked and unappreciated, but nothing feels as bad as being a GM for players who don't give a flying fig.

In reply to SunRuanEr (msg # 2312):

That's why we have a Vent thread.   ^_^

In reply to SunRuanEr (msg # 2312):

Your "job" is to entertain them. They have graciously allowed you to do so, and have even provided characters. :p
This message was last edited by the user at 20:38, Sat 22 June.

In reply to SunRuanEr (msg # 2312):

Force all of them into a tavern to share in a meal of tasty shawarma.

mmm.  shawarma.....yum.

I...finally...moved in today, from the storage unit. It was not bitter sweet, but it was semi-sweet.

I was homeless--in the capacity for a controlled habitation--from March 2021 to April 2022. I had just shy of an entire 15 month lease transpire without being able to afford and justify the work, of moving in. It was $235 and I tipped $40 to the workers, as unlike the last time we had movers, these were competent, and ALSO highly motivated AND efficient. The hard work, in working is not be invalidated for "working smart". The last movers...I have had episodes that could span the Dr. Who Seasons, of colorful bursts of recollection of the last movers;; when I was at my worst to have to move the second of twice. The last movers (that is prior to yesterday) I would sooner, literally, trust first grade aka earliest primary school children with a box of crayons let anyone the crayons themselves than those people. They ruined what was the remnants of a very ill spent insurance pay out from a fire in...oh my...I think 2018...it's just been too much TBH. The movers prior to yesterday broke, as in full on useless reduction of: MY sleep number bed, my gaming monitor, dishes, and TBH I'm not even going to emotionally go through the inventory I'm sure I have ad nauseam mentally.

Having my things, mostly MY, not my roommates things, was beautiful, but grieving at its final two stages. Well probably everything past anger and bargaining TBH. It was a...I hope it forum acceptable metaphor, it was my emotionally vomitting until dry heaving. Felt so good to have ouyt, but starved of any last good left to be sucked from bearing teeth down to bone for marrow. I feel wretched in a less emotional way, even though that is the origin, and just feel physically ill as the manifestation.

It was, unlike many vents, purposeful, even if stemming from senseless acts, and was cleansing; shedding the skin that I was made to live in as my own that never felt anything but vile. I feel exhausted though.

Again, I hope this walking next to, and not on the line of acceptable content, but it's like looking down at what I expelled and having the last dizziness of seeing,l this was what was inside me. It is worse than I thought...but at least know I know. Like swallowing several, not a single roach, at least this is out.

In another way it is the absess that rooted from foreign object in the wound, and that object happens to bear very powerful emotional recall and memories like two year tdime capsule. All I've gained, not just lost, in absence of having my things. Still, I have my things too.

So on that, it is not bitter-sweet, but semi sweet. I think that I prefer that most of sweet or bitter sweet. The glory, the only "glory" of being homeless, was not even the lessons, was that three-fold. 2021 not 2022. In Kansas July was record high heat. In 2021 is was hot, AF, but not the trip digits. *sigh* Most of all, being in doors. Actually, most of all, was the support only related through RPoL. It is not reductive or exclusionary to say my bulk of company beyond less than 1% remainder was the outpouring of support on RPoL. I remember a few names, but there were dozens, notd several dozen, but more than a couple dozen, users that helped their own ways. *siiiigh*

It is sweet because it showed me that friends are earned, and that I would rather game with those people than "Reliable" or "consistent" posters. These people are friends, to me, in their contribution TO me. Even if not very close friends, though some are fiercely close, they are not just acquaintances. These people gave of themselves, and it cost them to benefit me.

Oh...my. It is almosty as sweet though...to have my stuffed animals, books, mostly ghaming books, and other trash that nonetheless are the timne capsule of what I was //doing. Then mundane, pedestrian and boring things thatI now cherish. My magnetized set of laundry bins that assemble to from flat folding strips of cloth. This is not a literal question, but it is a genuinely thought prompting question. Do you know it's been over two years since I've had a laundry bin; clean or dirty. I had a plastic one that looked like a sieve masquerading as bucket, and with frayed corss sections of mesh. And I HAD card board boxes. I'm thankful and do not think it hyperbole to say I'm glad I didn't live in those boxes; but I lived out of them for wanting of full social services. Toiletries clean and hygenic  were not even readily accessible through charity. It almost seems mirthlessly amusing to consider the "frivolity" of having permanent cloth laundry bins. I feel all but the company online, here, have dehumanized a level of basic minimum quality of life for dignity.

It's over. I'm in  strawhole apartment, that has serious problems; but I am safe, and have my things, and my rent goes up by $120, but I'm no longer paying the $100 for the storage unit. I plan to give away--personally!--much of what I have now in total, but to sell what I can get more than it would benefit the needy. Long will have been that I (personally) will trust the united way or any other "charity". There are no shortages of the needy, and I plan to keep my spirit of giving to zag. That is the one partial name drop. While many others were generous, zag has special honor for being so pleasantly generous without a glimpse of faux intimacy. zag gave when and how, and that was instrumental to remove a domino in chain reaction that may have seen me take my own life, or down irrevocable damage. While everyone that meant something to me was not measured, zag gave in a way that only his contribution, while maybe insipid in some way, was the only, the ONE and only thing that could fix my then and thewre problem. His (?) only request to pay it forward now plays a very quiet beginning of encore of hope. Long before thanksgiving, even bfore Christmas, I have that promise I rejoice to keep, from selling to recoup  and giving to reciprocate.

MY little stuffed animals, my one two foot tall easter rabbit I had since youth that my roommate hugged for years. I have them. All of them. The therapy of an animal might in some ways be healthier, but even something soft that feel like a animal, but has no vulunarbilty to being harmed by sat upon, nor starved for lack of food. IT just ios such a warming, in the heat of summer, that is for very once, cozy. I hate that word. Cozy. Because it never sounded like it is supposed to. This time it, albeit in the heat of summer, the emotional flame is un lidded, and shown that the light never went out. While I only had to trust, and hope it was not to be gone out, now I know. That flame of hope, kept lit by the many that put into my life when they had of their lives. The flame was a champions sacred shared testament. Now it is but time to light the many holy candles that may have gone cold, and make my throat thick and the knot swell thanks, thanksgiving, and giving.

I've been wriitng this for over forty minuteas. I am so tired. I need to sort through a few boxes and /oh my..,.set up my bed that may, may still be usable as sleep number bed despite rampant abuse by the movers before last. I'm going to end this. i rejoice, but retire, to go even quieter than I have been in tdhe past two years. To be bare with my purged /body and spirit, and then redress my wounds, for the last time of this volume in tdhe final chapter of this period of my life. The series of events to be continued.

As Hunter most best said. That's why we have the vent thread. This is too. My deleted post is not. This is. Time to call it a screen off time, early, and spend some time with my roommate recently reconciled, before going to sleaep. Unpacking boxeds and moving the one chair tomorrow.

Than you.