many years ago, games done quick had a problem. there were trans people in the community, and there were a lot of transphobes in the community. for a while there, trans members of the community got treated like shit. not by everyone, of course, but by enough people that it was clearly a culture problem, and it was getting BAD. (and frankly, transphobia was far from the only issue.)
so games done quick had a decision to make: keep things how they were, or fundamentally change the community’s culture and kick out anyone who refused to stop being an asshole.
they chose to switch things up, and things changed IMMENSELY. they leaned into being trans positive, implemented pronoun tags for runners and staff, and started banning people who sought to make trans people feel unwelcome in the community.
since then, there have been a ton more trans speedrunners. long-time speedrunners have since come out, and trans rights are constantly celebrated with even more casual-ness than the transphobic vitriol that used to be spewed at trans people.
games done quick even chose to move their events out of florida (and eat the cost of doing so) in part because of transphobic laws that could endanger trans members of the community.
GDQ has come such a long way, and has fundamentally transformed itself into a much more kind and welcoming community. for everyone.
Unhealthy ships in a fandom are a bioindicator. They’re like finding caterpillars on your produce. You may not want to consume them—you may even find them disgusting—but if they aren’t there at all, you know that stuff is COVERED in toxicity.
There are some people in the reblogs saying “too many caterpillars are unhealthy too though!” but they are WRONG. You can always remove a caterpillar but you can’t wash off pesticide
My therapist, who specializes in adults with ADHD, recently told me that all of her clients need a three day crashout period after a big life change. Finish the semester? Crashout. Change jobs? Crashout. Go on a really cool, really relaxing vacation? Crashout the moment you get home.
It’s true of literally all of her clients. She works with a lot of them to put systems in place so that their crashouts are only three days. This includes the high-powered execs who travel regularly for work. It does not matter how successful or high functioning they are - they have ADHD, and a crashout is just part of the process of living with it.
I’m sharing this with all you ADHD friends out there, just in case you (like me) start shaming yourself if your crashout lasts more than one day. It turns out three days is kind of the best case scenario. Be kind to yourselves!
Someone in Glasgow please go see this for me pls. I will be there in spirit 🙏
Brief report from the flute accompaniment:
It went well! At least 100 people attended, families dogs a solid portion of Glasgow’s trans community. There was a really lovely atmosphere, nice weather and a very cheerful celebratory vibe.
After short speeches from the ballhaver and the large dyke (my wife), the ballhaver was given a chupa chup and blindfolded (execution style). The balls were then duly kicked; it made a surprisingly loud dull thumping sound. She fell to the ground to loud cheers and there was a moment of silence while Taps played on the flute. The large dyke wore solovair urban hikers.
Account from the Large Dyke.
Arrived early to find the crowd already gathering, so the kick got off to a prompt start. Following some introductions from everybody and some cheery folk music from our flautist (my wife!) we got on with the kick.
I think we got good contact, the top of my boot making a good solid noise on impact. Very good atmosphere all round, people stayed to chat for a while. Were it not January it would have been an excellent opportunity for a picnic.
10/10 queer event, would happily kick anybody in the balls in the name of community.
Account from the ball haver
7am: the pressure is getting to me; I wake up and drink half a bottle of diet iron bru from my bedside table; roll out of bed, and psych myself up in the mirror - “you can do this my little pogchamp” I say to myself over and over until I decend into a stupor.
8am: I play an hour of Okami on steam to replenish my chi levels
9am: I look at my balls for a while
10am: I spend 20 or so minutes trying to decide what to wear before realising it’s the subartic in midwinter and I’m going to have to dress for -2C° regardless of what I choose and opt of my trusty black Schott thermal padded winter flight jacket and a pair of loose, warm Uniqlo trousers to give my testicles room to breathe.
11am: crashing out, texting my friends to arange a substitute kickee, an understudy, anybody so I can just become one with the crowd and not go through with it
12am: the homies have arrived, I’m drinking redbush tea in a small cafe by the park; god is in his heaven and all is right with the world
12.15: “you must be here to watch me get kicked in the balls?”
12.40: a circle emerges, from within the circle a palpable energy focuses like a lens down unto me and I feel like I’m gonna pee my pants a little
12.50: cheers begin, several complete families with dogs arrive - more friends appear and assort themselves into a gathering of ‘real heads’ ready to watch my groin be dessicated by the firm lace of a women for woman woman with a foot loosed through the gates of war as Augustus saw fit the dispatch and return of his troops from far corners through the blessings of Janus.
12.55: I think I left the stove on
1pm: Short introductions are made, grace is shown, music accompanies the gathering
1.03pm: what is left of my dignity disappears up my inguinal canal; I can feel it more in my lower chest than I can in my groin but the humour and adrenaline lift me and I’m laughing on my feet again soon. I kneel for the last post.
