Posted with permission from the artist @ByTwistwood. Story by Matthew Wisner.
In words of a sage There comes every age When elders refuse any truth They'd rather deny And sit on their lie Declaring a war on the youth.
Can we step back for a second though and look at this twitter thread without any blinders whether that be on any level concerning representation in media, to realize how aggressively presumptuous the Twitter OP is being?
Outright, the focus is on ‘their’ culture. On ‘their’ tiny little aspect of this vastly creative effort that has been almost universally loved by those who’ve seen it. Things like this, people trying to control creators, to punish those who want to make something if it isn’t made to ‘their’ specifications, are the modern equivalent of the old Catholic Church arresting artists who made things the organization found “untasteful”.
Outrage culture is just a thing we have to deal with for now. People are going to flip their lids and go on childish vendettas against people that don’t fit their vision of a good artist or media maker. But preemptively throwing an aggressive and accusatory tantrum about something no one has even SEEN yet is where I draw the line.
You want to see representation for your culture? Right now that’s you. And by that example your culture is whiny, self-interested, and narrow minded.
High fantasy worlds based on real life geography and culture amazes me every time!
Kneel demands the dragon witch, Eyes burning like coal. Her long rifle doth seek the heart, Her eyes doth seek the soul. No, sayeth the heroes bold, We will not act for naught. Our hearts are ours as are our souls, 'Twas your black heart we sought.
Like looking in a mirror after I finish a test.
When you finish a major arc/ campaign
Astronaut readjusts to life back on Earth
> Don’t give him a baby for a while.
Waken the guardians, rally their wards. Gather their banners, their hammers and swords. Call to the speaker, Travelers voice. Call to the people and bid them rejoice. Run to all corners to find those in hiding. Run to the vanguards bearing our tiding. Our words are rallies, though through no feat. We sing not of victory, nor of retreat. Foes do not cower, nor do they flee. Their force still grows far as our eyes can see. They are not weakened, arms not diminished. But for this strength, we still are not finished. For we are standing, strong as before. Greatest our prowess, since the Dark war. Foes may not cower, foes may not flee. But we are guardians, neither do we.