aluminiumtrioxid

Smear campaigns? A guy asking whether it's okay to report on Quinn receiving personal attacks, or would that only end up being a signal boost for the abusers. Hardly what I'd call a smear campaign. Another guy asking if others are comfortable with people posting ****-shaming comments under their articles. Censorship? Maybe. Does, however, spreading details on Quinn's sex life have anything to offer that is relevant to the conversation? If not, why is it such a problem if they don't want their comments section to be plastered with that ****? Some Kotaku guy denying the allegations that Grayson's ever reviewed any game made by Quinn. (Were any of those allegations proved, by the way?) Still not seeing the smear campaigning. Someone points out that there's no point in doing anything about the whole business, because then the angry internet mob gets to play the censorship card. There is not a single screencap in that article proving any coordinated effort on doing anything, much less organizing a smear campaign (which, I hasten to add, did not take place at all, therefore it could hardly have been organized there). Didn't you already do that?

I'm saying that it's not newsworthy if a person who's built her entire career on criticising feminism criticises a (however ****ty) feminist analysis of video games, and touting her as "proof that even feminists think Sarkeesian and co. are full of ****" is... well, iffy.

How did the saying go? "A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds"? I'm perfectly willing to change my viewpoint when faced with actual evidence. Which a woman who admittedly only started looking into gamer culture a few weeks ago (wasn't one of the core pillars of the criticism leveled against Sarkeesian how her views on gamers are totally invalid because she's not playing video games?), and whose "feminist" work constitutes of titles like Who Stole Feminism? How Women Have Betrayed Women and The War Against Boys: How Misguided Feminism Is Harming Our Young Men saying "no, this thing is perfectly okay" definitely does not count as. Neither does gaming journalists having private mailing lists. You know who also has private mailing lists where they discuss professional issues? Literally every other group of journalists. Seriously, that Breitbart article is so stupid, my brain hurts. AND IT DOESN'T EVEN HAVE NERVE ENDINGS

Wow, guys. Wow. You know what? I don't see any point in arguing about this anymore. When you tout absolute bull**** like these as "damning evidence", it's absolutely clear that you've made up your mind, and any discussion would be a waste of my time (and yours').

I was under the impression that torture and child murder are OK unless genitals are involved. Rating boards are weird.

If you put it full of Slaanesh-cultists, sure. Otherwise, not seeing it.

...I'd be happy to see an Exalted CRPG, or a Dark Heresy one. (The Imperium of Man at first glance doesn't exactly seem like a paragon of progressivity, but 40.000 years of intermingling, realistically, should result in much a more varied array of skin tones than depicted in the official artwork, not to mention that the image of a unified humanity that has transcended petty distractions like racial discrimination in order to be more efficient at being Fascistic Space Nazis to everyone else plays nicely into the themes of the game.)

I sense dismissiveness

I think discrimination along those lines also falls under the umbrella of ableism (mental illnesses, too, btw).

Never heard the word "ableist"?

If pain wasn't fun, full-contact martial arts wouldn't be a thing

Link?

Illusionist titles seem cooler.

Basically what's in the title. There's a "views" count for each topic, I have no idea how it works, and it's driving me crazy. Does it count each visitor once? Every time they open the topic? Every time they open the topic after a set amount of time has passed? Does it count only registered users, or guests too? How does it differentiate between guests, if it does? Etc.

What the hell is this.

Belatedly, we continue with our 2,5th session! Team Loneliness So we left one of our heroines at a point where she’s doing the dramatic Lovecraftian Revelation bit, complete with screaming “IT’S NOT OF THIS WORLD!”, trying to claw out her own eyes, then running off into the night and spending the rest of her years in an insane asylum. Except she does none of these things, because she aced her save vs. insanity. "How is this even possible...?" Kationa points to the mess that comprises the internal organs. Eisen blinks slowly. "How indeed... I have to admit, I have no idea. Perhaps through some sort of dark sorcery or other unnatural warping of the Holy Human Form." Kat frowns. She finds that she needs to report this to the others. The problem’s huge and far more dangerous than she’s expected. "I'll need to file a report," she says, her expression conveying the gravity of the situation. Before she does that though, she narrows her eyes and tries to focus on the local warp, trying to pick up more of a feel for the taint that is clearly present here. She’s trying to get a feel for the mutant’s warp signature, but fails her Psyniscience roll. The eddies of the Empyrean elude her sight. She leaves the forensic crew to clean up while she heads out to find a private spot to call Mordecai and the others with her report. Which will only come later in the session, because her player’s adorable new kitten has claimed her laptop as an optimal place to do cat stuff on. *** Team Staring Intently at the Elderly Last time we left, Solomon has stepped onstage, while creepy music started to play. Except I’ve totally forgotten about the creepy music I’ve prepared in advance just for this occasion. As the crooked little man strides forward, his steps betraying a frailty that seems to be out of place even for someone of his age, the team gets a better look at him. His clothing’s dishevelled, his hair grey and falling out in patches, face riddled with wrinkles etched on by decades of toil and suffering in the Emperor’s service. Circles under his eyes speak of a recent string of sleepless nights, and his gaze radiates the fatigue of a man shouldering a world’s (or at least an Underhive’s) weight. After thoroughly inspecting the pyres, he turns to the crowd. His eyes seem to linger on the group’s more conspicuously dressed members for a few moments, but then he starts speaking. His voice is small, clearly lacking the training exhibited by clergymen of the upper levels; regardless, the crowd seems to be transfixed by his every word. “Brothers and sisters! Today we are graced by the presence of the Emperor’s stalwart servants, venturing down here, reminding us that our plight is not forgotten by the world. It gladdens my heart to see our congregation growing with each passing day. But our struggle is not yet over! Unclean creatures are still befouling the streets of our city! The corrupt of heart, those who refuse to listen and let the Emperor’s words shine a light into their soul, are still dragged away by the forces of darkness! I ask you, my children: are we letting the corrupt, the wicked, the warped in mind, body and soul congregate and plot our demise right on our threshold? I say no, and I know your answer as well! These”, he feebly kicks at the hand of a mutant dangling from a pyre, “are testament to our will to fight, a message to the decadent and the daemonic, that Hive Piety is still worthy of its name!” The crowd roars, the individual shouts merging into a primal howl, frenzied and pleased at the same time. Despite his lacklustre oratory skills, by now this wizened old man has become the sole focal point of attention of everyone your eyes can see. This was actually only the first part of his speech I’ve written for him in advance, but I’ve thought this would be as good a place as any to give the players a bit of agency, because hey, interactive medium, the fun lies not in reading the wall of text but getting to **** with all the stuff in the wall of text. In hindsight, I should’ve made it clearer that unless they use this momentary pause to interfere, he’ll continue. Mordecai isn't feeling too confident in this situation and he's scanning for possible escape routes as he waits for the old man to continue. He fails his Awareness +10 roll, however, so the only routes he finds are ones where their movement would be severely impeded by the crowd. Kaylee does what she was instructed to, and tries to find proof of heretical thought in the old man's speech. She has a hard time doing so, but notes that he’s clearly not a man of the Ecclesiarchy. Regardless, she’s wondering whether that’s reason enough to condemn someone in his position. Actually, Imperial Law is pretty clear about impersonating members of the Adepta being Bad and Wrong. (Suggested course of action: field interrogation, followed by field execution, according to my copy of Book of Judgment. Which is actually one of the more lenient sentences found there, neatly explaining why a successful Scholastic Lore: Judgment check confers a +20 bonus on Intimidate attempts made by an arbitrator in my games.) On the other hand, Solomon never claimed he belongs to the Ecclesiarchy, so there’s that. Contentwise, the speech seems acceptable to her, although very generic. Doesn't explain why these people are lapping up his words with such ferocity. Ouch. Well, he was just getting warmed up. Her foremost concern, however, is the Father’s startling ability to pick out the official-looking party members from the crowd, which is quite a feat, given the size of the gathering and the fact that it’s just barely dawning yet. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, she decides she might as well try to pump him for information. “Can you tell me where are they coming from?”, she shouts to Solomon, referring to the mutants. I have her roll Fellowship, because big and noisy gatherings tend to drown out individual voices (and because I’m keen on having Solomon continue his speech uninterrupted), but the dice gods favour her, so everyone present hears the question clearly. "Our visitors have questions! Excellent!", the old man beams. "Quite a few, in fact", Mordecai interjects quietly, but lets Kaylee ask hers first. “Yeah, I have. Can you tell me where do they come from? How did you get so many of them piled on the pyre?” "Where do they come from? What an inane question. Does the lamb wander where the wolves originate? Is the thought 'but what led him down this path?' the foremost in the mind of the victim of a mugging?", Solomon replies with two questions of his own. "They're sin personified. The wickedness on the inside is mirrored on the outside. Those of little faith end up like them!" “Then I shall ask again. Where have you caught them, and how?” - Kaylee "On the streets. There's no shortage of them", he sighs, apparently disappointed. In Kaylee’s defence, she wasn’t around with the rest of the party when they’ve met Blackbeard the Scottish Zealot and co. on their merry mutant-gathering trip. That doesn’t make the question any less stupid in the eyes of Solomon, though. Their interference causes Redbeard to take action. He starts wading through the crowd, trying to get to the party. People let him pass. A string of failed Awareness checks means only Kaylee notices this, though. "Tell us what we should do, Father! This cannot go on!", Lazarus shouts to the old man. "He's liable to provoke a riot sooner or later, don't encourage him!" Mordecai whispers warningly to him. "Fight against the corruption! Embrace the Emperor's truth! Remember the words of the scripture: your armour should be contempt! Your shield, hate! The only defence against the taint of the wicked is not letting its corruption into your hearts!", he bellows his answer to the assassin’s question. Lazarus looks at the group. "He is right. But also very vague." Redbearded Guy is drawing ever closer, now all of them can see him. The assassin chooses to step in front of him. "Yeah?" "Could you please keep your questions until the end of the sermon?", he hisses at the group. "The faithful are here to listen to a holy man, not you spouting your ignorance." "You better watch your tone, ginger." Lazarus scowls. “Heresy's afoot, and the Emperor's work knows no timetables." His rudeness earns him the stink-eye from quite a few surrounding workers. “I want one of the heretics from the pyre. Alive, to be questioned by the Ecclesiarchy”, Kaylee requests, eliciting a hearty laugh from the preacher. "You're most welcome to come up here and take your pick", he gestures at the pyre. “You are very kind, but I trust your judgment. Pick one for me, one with a working tongue, and send two of your fellow citizens to carry him. This will earn you the gratitude of the Ecclesiarchy”, she assures him. The cleric’s face darkens. "My point was that there are none here alive. None capable of speech, at least. My flock takes 'suffer not the heretic to live' very seriously." “They’re already dead? How sad. Tell me, how are we supposed to track down this evil then?” - Kaylee "We don't. We pray to the Emperor to give us the strength to defy them" - Solomon, clearly baffled at the thought of interrogating mutants. Mordecai’s had enough of this. He steps forward and raises his voice. "The Emperor has said that each of us have a place in this world. And it is our duty, of the members of the Ecclesiarchy and the Adepta to deal with these threats. Not factory workers and street cleaners.” He half-addresses the crowd. “I know how you all feel. I have heard the rumours and stories. They take your friends at night, their blood curses all who touch it. You're scared and you want to deal with these monsters. You want to grab your guns and pitchforks and race through the Hive, killing anything suspicious or less stalwart of faith. But that only leads to chaos and confusion. Do you know why the Emperor has enacted LAWS? Because ORDER is the Imperium's ally and Chaos its enemy! We are of the Adeptus Arbites and it is our duty to uphold His laws and protect His citizens. All of you. You may think we are little, not enough. But Hive Piety was not forgotten. We were sent from Scintilla itself to stop these mutations and kidnappings. So all of you, burn your dead, pray for their soul, hold congregations. But do not intervene. This will all be over soon.” He turns back to Solomon. “And now we would like to have a private word with you, Father, if you will. I'm sure your congregation has told you much that could help us in our quest to root out this evil." Cool speech, worthy of a +20 modifier to his Charm check. Sadly, Arbitrators don’t get Charm until rank 4 (yay for niche protection, I guess), which means he had to roll under 36, even so. He gets a 46. Sadface. Then Kaylee chimes in that she was totally providing assistance, and because she does have Charm, it means a +10 modifier for Mordecai, turning his roll into a success. I see no point in objecting; it was a cool speech after all, and being accompanied by Cleric Girl is plausible to add legitimacy and gravitas to his words, even when she doesn’t open her mouth. "A stalwart servant of the Imperium, if I ever saw one", Solomon praises him. "You have spoken well.” He dismisses the crowd. They grumble, but start to disperse. The old man gestures for them to get inside, while splashing oil on the pyres, and lighting them. Soon enough, the delicious unclean smell of burning mutantflesh fills the air. This is when Kationa calls them. Thankfully, the crowd is slow to give way, so it’s not very conspicuous of them to stand around a bit, waiting for their numbers to thin. “Hello? Can you hear me?” – Kat, displaying her lack of knowledge on vox protocols. “Who is this?”, Mordecai replies. “It's Kationa. I have a report.” “Well?” - Lazarus “Go ahead” - Mordecai “I returned to the precinct and we did a dissection of one of the mutants. And, well, it's bad. Really bad.” She takes a deep breath and then continues. “When we cut it open, it basically exploded in unholy stench. And then on closer inspection, its anatomy turns out to be physically impossible. There's no way that its organs should function at all. It's not natural mutation - it's warp mutation. Corruption.” “There's nothing natural about ANY mutation. It's all filthy and corrupt.” - Lazarus “Yeah, but this isn't regular mutation, that's what I am saying. There's bad stuff doing this. Chaos.” – Kationa, making the sign of the aquila. “So we need to find where they come from and stop this once and for all.” - Kelegh “Given how many mutants are out there already - this is worse than we thought.” - Kat “I figured it would be something bad, you don't mutate too this degree just from the Under-waste. Is it possible they are... unloaded here via... youknowwhat?” – Mordecai, tiptoeing around the subject “The warp? Something bad is causing it. Something really bad. And if we don't find what it is and stop it, it could spread...” – Kationa, worried Meanwhile, the parts she managed to catch on her end pique Kaylee’s curiosity. She tries to listen in, an Awareness -10 check, but fails. Then she attempts to tune her micro-bead to the frequency they’re using. By succeeding on a Scholastic Lore (Bureaucracy) +0 roll, she remembers the most common frequencies used by the Adeptus Arbites. Given the fact that the party’s using common quality micro-beads borrowed from the Precinct, I find this a completely reasonable approach, so she manages to listen in on the last part of the conversation. “What about the blood, anything wrong with it?” - Mordecai “In what way? I can ask them to do a test on the blood specifically?” - Kat “You know, rumours about it being cursed or acidic and whatnot. We're still at Solomon's for now, you can meet us here.” - Mordecai “Alright, I'll get them to run a blood test, and then I'll join you if nothing else comes up here.” “Alright, good job.” – Mordecai. Back to Kationa, who breaks the connection now. As she ends the call, she pulls a face. She still felt mad at the others for how they treated her, but at least she could be professional and put such things aside. She walks back into the lab to see what the adepts are doing. "We need a blood test done," she says, trying to sound commanding. She finds Eisen methodically pulling out the mutant's organs, putting them into glass jars, and trying to categorize them. Judging by the look of his face, he's not making too much progress. Hearing the psyker’s request, he snaps his fingers at his assistant. "You've heard the woman." The assistant takes a blood sample and puts it in a rather sophisticated-looking machine. After a few seconds of sputtering, it spews out a rather long paper trail. “It doesn't seem to carry any harmful substances known to the machine", Eisen concludes after taking a peek. "Is it human?" asks Kat with a frown. "Definitely. Its gene-sequence seems to be devoid of external tampering, curiously enough...", the adept trails off. Kat's frown grows. "So you're saying it is a completely normal human blood sample...?" "According to the machine, yes", he responds, with a trace of disbelief in his voice. "Can we do a manual test? To verify the result?" A short discussion ensues about what a blood test could accomplish here. We settle on them examining a blood smear for possible changes on the cellular level. I make it clear that such a test takes about half an hour at minimum to complete, which Kat decides to wait out. About half an hour later, they conclude that this looks like completely ordinary human blood. Slightly increased white blood cell count, but other than that, nothing out of the ordinary. She thanks them and asks them to put the corpse on ice in case they need any further tests done. They promise they'll look into preserving a few samples. Kationa stops and thinks for a moment before heading out to meet with the others. "Wait, can you run one more test through the machine from another subject? I would like to know if there are any matches?" "You mean, whether two different mutants have the same genetic signature?", Eisen asks. "Yes, them being clones would explain much..." She nods. He swiftly draws blood from another mutant, and gets the sample in the machine. Intense moments pass while they wait for the paper. He tears it off excitedly. "...No. They're different", the adept concludes with sad puppy eyes. Kat frowns again, feeling his disappointment. "But this one is just normal human as well?" she asks. "Just from a different human?" "Yes", Eisen sighs heavily. "Alright, well that still tells us something anyway. Thanks for the help." "Glad to be of assistance. Tell me if your wannabe-giants find out something interesting." "I will." She smiles at him gratefully and then heads out again to meet up with the rest of the group. *** While they’re waiting for a path to Solomon’s house to open up, Mordecai decides to engage in small talk with Redbeard. "Are you an aide of Father Solomon or something?" "You can call me his butler, if you will." "I see. Don't worry, citizen; your preacher has done nothing to earn our ire. In fact, he has done a good job keeping them spirited. Maybe that beatification is actually warranted." Redbeard just shakes his head and shoots him a pitying look. "I agree, duty is its own reward", shrugs Mordecai. "Wise words", he comments, then, seeing that the congregation has more or less dispersed by now, he guides the group inside. Which is lucky, because the burnt mutant stench was getting worse with each passing minute. On the flipside, they’ve burnt with that really relaxing, crackling fireplace sound. "Feel free to accompany us", Mordecai invites Kaylee, and signals the others to follow him. “I will. The church is asking questions about him, and they want answers”, she replies. Getting inside, they notice that Solomon’s place is quite empty. No shrines to the Saints or holy books as far as they can see. There are two beds, a table full of scribbling, two chairs, a stove and a wardrobe. Also, doors presumably leading to other rooms. "Cosy little room. Are those letters from other communities?”, Kaylee inquires about the scribbling. "No", he answers vaguely, pointing the group toward the beds to sit down. "You wanted to have a word with me, Officer?", he addresses Mordecai. The arbitrator nods thankfully and sits on the sturdier looking bed. "Yes, we do. As I've said, we are looking into these dis- and reappearances. We were hoping you would have anything to add to our current findings, since most residents hold you in apparent high regard. Oh, and I wonder if you would know where these things come from", he adds, showing him his copy of HERETICS’ HIDEOUT, the sight of which causes the preacher to visibly recoil in disgust. "How did you get such a profane thing?" - Solomon "From the home of one of the kidnapped. Curiously, it stars one of our mutated friends” – Mordecai, thumbing through it to find the relevant page. "HERESY", the cleric hisses, eyes narrowing. "Calm down, Father", Redbeard puts a hand on his shoulder. "This filth has surfaced among the unfaithful since a month or so. I've done everything I could to burn any and all copies members of my flock could get their hands on. Sadly, nobody I've interviewed could tell me where they print such blasphemies." "One of your men told us he has been burning these mutants for half a month. Could they have appeared in these booklets earlier?" - Mordecai "Yes. It's the copy of the previous month. This heretic magazine predates their appearance by 20 days or so" - Solomon "Interesting. Another question: the citizens are afraid of the blood. Nobody has even tried following it to the source. Who cleans the streets then?" “Nobody does. My people have more urgent matters to attend to, and the cleanliness of the streets down here is apparently no concern to hive authorities.” "Has any of your followers turned out to be rotten at the core and become a mutant later?", Kaylee asks. "None that I know of", the old man shakes his head. "Has anyone seen people being kidnapped? Any suspects? Where are they taken? From their homes, from their work?" – Mordecai, again with an impractical amount of questions. "No. They're taken from their homes, and although my faithful don't associate with the wicked and therefore never see them being taken away, the only possible culprits can be the mutants. I've asked the Emperor what causes the disappearances, but his only answer was 'an impure heart'", Solomon replies. The logic behind his words doesn’t quite add up to Kaylee. ”I’m afraid I don't understand. Are you telling us that if one’s relatives were taken, they wouldn’t admit it in fear of retaliation for ‘association with the wicked’?” "I'm telling you that members of my group don't count the wicked among their relatives", the preacher asserts disdainfully. “I see.” - Kaylee Suddenly, Kationa appears. She nervously walks in, her arms crossed protectively in front of her body. "Hello?", she greets those present, but nobody really minds her. "Those things can barely crawl along the street, let alone kidnap someone." - Mordecai "The unholy might of the Ruinous Powers must assist them in some sorcerous way then!", Redbeard barks. "By picking their locks and dragging them away at night, surely. I'm afraid we'll have to follow their trail." - Mordecai "Whose trail? - Solomon "The crawlers', of course. Unless you happen to know anyone who owns an unlicensed printing machine that s/he's using to print these things.” – Mordecai, pointing at his copy of HERETICS’ HIDEOUT. "Yes, I'm sure the blood curse will do you much good if you trail along that path" - Redbeard, sarcastic "What does this curse do, pray tell? And who told you it's cursed in the first place?" - Mordecai "The Emperor, of course", Solomon wheezes. "'The blood of the unclean will bring forth the ruination of all', he said." Tragically, at this point our session is cut short by technical difficulties and other obligations, respectively, for two of our players. I don’t see much point in continuing with 60% of our player pool, so we name this a half session, the completion of which nets everybody 50 xp.

Unfortunately, we are still unsure of our status as "dead" or our secret handshake. I personally think we should develop telepathy, but the fellas really like doing the helicopter d!ck. Banging our d!cks together would be a good secret handshake since members of the matriarchy would be incapable of performing the handshake. Alright, Im out of this club. You've obviously been brainwashed by the matriarchy and their misandristic tendencies to learn to be disgusted by the male physique! Yeah, there is absolutely nothing gay about wanting to touch d!cks with our fellow men. It's just an outgrowth of our completely natural, manly pride. That sexy, manly pride.

Yeah, pretty much this. My deep and abiding love for SupCom has just as much to do with the existence of a pause function as with its other nice features (like giant laser deathbots and the ability to bathe half the map in nuclear fire).

I'm partial to Supreme Commander. Size does matter in an RTS.

Lrn 2 ****ing comedy, seriously. You're misinterpreting a satirical joke aimed at the overzealous attitude of one group of feminists for a blatant attack on a message shown as a sign of respect. If you're incapable of distinguishing "show this message as a sign of respect when applicable please" from "show this message as a sign of respect at all times or you are heartless scum that's the source of all problems in society and I hope you die," I'm not misinterpreting anything as an attack, I'm expressing my opinion that said jokes are in bad taste. Then again, me being a bloke who hasn't ever met the attitude you describe in your post, and finds even completely ridiculous trigger warnings useful (even if only to determine whose opinion to disregard) probably has a lot to do with that. And I think we should leave the issue at that. Having different experiences and interpreting things differently based on that is cool.

I'm not saying I'm EXPECTING people to post without warnings, nor that I EXPECT others to do so. EXPECTATIONS is exactly my problem with this. Warning or no warning, both are fine. It's when one side starts flipping their lids at the other for not handling something the way they deem "correct." We're innocently joking and mocking the trigger warnings because that's exactly the kind of attitude we've been seeing pop up. It's innocence born of ignorance, and while I'm not judging you for it, I thought I might show you guys a different perspective on the issue. I really don't believe one can misuse trigger warnings. As I've said earlier, even trigger warnings I find absurd are useful as a warning for me not to read anything said person writes.

Okay so total side note, I know the conversation got all different while I composed a lengthy, serious and heartfelt post that I ultimately declined to post and threw away, but since when can't comedy be directed at...well anything? It was clear Meshugger was being (or attempting to be) funny in his post (apologies to his avatar, I guess, if I misread that situation) and that there was a dogpile in the humor. I understand that people feel differently over the importance/lack of same in real trigger warnings, but... I find the attitude of mocking a convention born from respect for other people's experiences and a desire to not aggravate the trauma they might've suffered utterly disgusting in its self-centeredness. I'm not taking away anyone's liberty to make tasteless jokes, I'm expressing the fact that I'm finding said jokes tasteless. If it makes anyone question why they value their half-second spent on reading a trigger warning more than the emotional pain of, say, a rape survivor whose experiences are still fresh, that's a bonus, but realistically, I don't expect anyone to glean any sort of mystical enlightenment and vow never to make such jokes ever again because of my post.

While this is a considerate intention, I ultimately find the whole thing rather....stupid. Why? Well the fact of the matter is it's unreasonable to expect the world to know about your personalized trauma. I was horrendously depressed about three years ago due to circumstances I bet no one could POSSIBLY expect, nor do I expect people to know how to avoid reminding me of that time. It would be unreasonable of me to expect people to cater to this; no, instead? Instead that was a time of my life where my depression was literally crippling, to the point where just going outside was difficult. I need to be able to cope with that moment and get over it. I need to be able to look at that time in my life and say "yes that was traumatic but I have to live on and keep going," because depression is this sort of cycle where it feeds itself; if you give in to one portion of the cycle you can fall into the whole thing all over again. So while yes, let's say I know someone who was raped, yes I should be courteous and avoid bringing up anything rape-related around her, but at the same time, the reality is people DO report on it, people DO include it in art, people DO use the word liberally when goofing around in various ways, and if she cannot handle that, that itself is a problem. I'm sorry for what she went through, but she needs to be able to move on to an extent. Trust me, I know how heartless that sounds and by no means is moving on easy. If I had the attitude of "just stop crying and move on already," by all means, punch me in the mouth. But no, I'm saying that for as hard as it is or as insensitive claims of "you need to be able to move on," there is a sense of truth to it in the sense that you'll cease to be functional if you let one trauma haunt you all your life. You need to move on, for YOUR sake. It takes time for sure, but it needs to happen. It's a completely reasonable position, but healing happens at its own pace, and there are timeframes when it's just unfeasible to expect someone to move on; likewise, there is no way to predict when someone will read an article, or blog post, or whatever. "Consumers of your stuff who've been raped three days ago" might seem like a small subset of readers, but I'm leery of anyone who considers a half-second long feeling of mild annoyance worse than effectively unavoidable, lasting, considerable emotional turmoil just because the latter only affects a very, very small percentage of people. I mean, utilitarian ethics may teach us that given a sufficiently large number of beneficients, torturing a child to death in order to prevent an extremely large number of people from ever having hiccups is good and moral, but guess what, then I'm not a utilitarian. Overall, you will NOT convince all of humanity to provide "trigger warnings!!!" It's just not happening. A trigger is inevitable, so the only way to handle it is to face them and LEARN to handle them. Yes, friends and family, be courteous and avoid triggering your loved ones. But strangers on the internet...? There's a reason feminism is so unpopular. The unpopularity is exactly due to things like this. Hell, you know what I associate feminists with? The ****ing Spanish Inquisition, because if you don't believe their moral code they'll order you to get it, kill you or torture you. Make no mistake, idealists are generally kind hearted, but extremist idealists? Omfg now there's a group of people that can get a lot of **** started. I would MUCH prefer a bunch of traumatized people learn to face reality and learn to cope with their trauma (however difficult that may be) to having a bunch of ****tard crusaders running around punishing anyone they deem not sensitive enough. I've never met anyone who expected others to plaster any remotely objectionable content with trigger warnings. Seriously, nobody I know wants this. (And I'm fairly convinced I know a lot more people who self-identify as feminists than any of you.) Another useful purpose they serve: if you see that someone has included detailed trigger warnings you find absurd at the start of an article, you can close it with good conscience, because you can already know that whatever their point is, you will disagree with it anyways (therefore saving you the time it would've taken to read the thing in its entirety).