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  3. I always feel bad making negative reviews on Goodreads when the author is a Goodreads author.

     
  4. HEY, DID I MISS ANYTHING?

    danharmon:

    Kids: 

    A few hours ago, I landed in Los Angeles, turned on my phone, and confirmed what you already know.  Sony Pictures Television is replacing me as showrunner on Community, with two seasoned fellows that I’m sure are quite nice - actually, I have it on good authority they’re quite nice, because they once created a show and cast my good friend Jeff Davis on it, so how bad can they be.

    Why’d Sony want me gone?  I can’t answer that because I’ve been in as much contact with them as you have.  They literally haven’t called me since the season four pickup, so their reasons for replacing me are clearly none of my business.  Community is their property, I only own ten percent of it, and I kind of don’t want to hear what their complaints are because I’m sure it would hurt my feelings even more now that I’d be listening for free.

    I do want to correct a couple points of spin, now that I’m free to do so:

    The important one is this quote from Bob Greenblatt in which he says he’s sure I’m going to be involved somehow, something like that.  That’s a misquote.  I think he meant to say he’s sure cookies are yummy, because he’s never called me once in the entire duration of his employment at NBC.  He didn’t call me to say he was starting to work there, he didn’t call me to say I was no longer working there and he definitely didn’t call to ask if I was going to be involved.  I’m not saying it’s wrong for him to have bigger fish to fry, I’m just saying, NBC is not a credible source of All News Dan Harmon.

    You may have read that I am technically “signed on,” by default, to be an executive consulting something or other - which is a relatively standard protective clause for a creator in my position.  Guys like me can’t actually just be shot and left in a ditch by Skynet, we’re still allowed to have a title on the things we create and “help out,” like, I guess sharpening pencils and stuff.  

    However, if I actually chose to go to the office, I wouldn’t have any power there.  Nobody would have to do anything I said, ever.  I would be “offering” thoughts on other people’s scripts, not allowed to rewrite them, not allowed to ask anyone else to rewrite them, not allowed to say whether a single joke was funny or go near the edit bay, etc.  It’s….not really the way the previous episodes got done.  I was what you might call a….hands on producer.  Are my….periods giving this enough….pointedness?  I’m not saying you can’t make a good version of Community without me, but I am definitely saying that you can’t make my version of it unless I have the option of saying “it has to be like this or I quit” roughly 8 times a day.

    The same contract also gives me the same salary and title if I spend all day masturbating and playing Prototype 2.  And before you ask yourself what you would do in my situation: buy Prototype 2.  It’s fucking great.

    Because Prototype 2 is great, and because nobody called me, and then started hiring people to run the show, I had my assistant start packing up my office days ago.  I’m sorry.  I’m not saying seasons 1, 2 and 3 were my definition of perfect television, I’m just saying that whatever they’re going to do for season 4, they’re aiming to do without my help.  So do not believe anyone that tells you on Monday that I quit or diminished my role so I could spend more time with my loved ones, or that I negotiated and we couldn’t come to an agreement, etc.  It couldn’t be less true because, just to make this clear, literally nobody called me.  Also don’t believe anyone that says I have sex with animals.  And if there’s a photo of me doing it with an animal - I’m not saying one exists, I’m just saying, if one surfaces - it’s a fake.  Look at the shadow.  Why would it be in front of the giraffe if the sun is behind the jeep?

    Where was I?  Oh yeah.  I’m not running Community for season 4.  They replaced me.  Them’s the facts.

    When I was a kid, sometimes I’d run home to Mommy with a bloody nose and say, “Mom, my friends beat me up,” and my Mom would say “well then they’re not worth having as friends, are they?”  At the time, I figured she was just trying to put a postive spin on having birthed an unpopular pussy.  But this is, after all, the same lady that bought me my first typewriter.  Then later, a Commodore 64.  And later, a 300 baud modem for it.  Through which I met new friends that did like me much, much more.

    I’m 39, now.  The friends my Mom warned me about are bigger now, and older, bloodying my nose with old world numbers, and old world tactics, like, oh, I don’t know, sending out press releases to TV Guide at 7pm on a Friday.

    But my Commodore 64 is mobile now, like yours, and the modems are invisible, and the internet is the air all around us.  And the good friends, the real friends, are finding each other, and connecting with each other, and my Mom is turning out to be more right than ever.

    Ah, shit, I still haven’t called my fucking Mom.  

    Mom, Happy Mother’s Day.  I got fired.  

    Yes, Mom.  AGAIN.

     
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  6. My mom just told me she’s voting for Rick Santorum

     
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  8. All the time. and omg I don’t even want to KNOW how much I owe in library fines rn. It’s been so hard for me to get out of bed lately, let alone the house.

    Ugh. Yes. :/ Tbh, if my computer wasn’t a desktop, I probably wouldn’t move off the sofa most days. :(

    *internet hug*

     
  9. image: Download

    kylathegreat:

My mother just called me… [TW fatphobia/shame/dieting]
My mother just called me to tell me she’s sorry she couldn’t make me lose weight when I was younger. She said, “You just went through so much pain being bullied. I wish I could have paid for surgery or something.”
This is because she was watching an episode of The Biggest Loser. She saw some guy talking to a high school about how horrible being fat was, and how he’s finally deserving of love because he’s not 450lbs anymore. The camera panned to a young fat boy. He was crying. I guess my mother saw me as that fat boy. But what she didn’t consider is that maybe those tears are the tears of anger. Maybe he’s crying because he’s pissed. Because feels he’s worthy of love, but everyone else is telling him he’s not. Maybe he’s crying because he’s embarrassed. Because all he wants to do is run out of that gymnasium so the camera won’t pan at him again. Because he’s sick of being made to feel like he’s less than, simply because he weighs more. If that’s the case, then yes, I was that boy.
I wasn’t a miserable 13 year old because I was fat. I was a miserable 13 year old because people treated me like garbage. I was a miserable 13 year old because my mother made me take pills and drink shakes, instead of eating meals. I was a miserable 13 year old because my brother projected his insecurities into me. I was a miserable 13 year old because no one would listen to me when I asked them to just see me as me, not the size of my JNCOs.I was a miserable 13 year old because we haven’t yet taught our children how to respect other people. The world is full of nasty people because we haven’t stood up and said loudly enough: IT’S NOT OKAY TO TREAT PEOPLE LIKE GARBAGE.
I didn’t need a mother willing to put me under the knife to spare my feelings. I needed a mother willing to understand my feelings. I needed a mother who loved me for who I am; not one who loved me when I attended Weight Watchers with her.
You are worthy. I promise you. You are worthy.

    kylathegreat:

    My mother just called me… [TW fatphobia/shame/dieting]

    My mother just called me to tell me she’s sorry she couldn’t make me lose weight when I was younger. She said, “You just went through so much pain being bullied. I wish I could have paid for surgery or something.”

    This is because she was watching an episode of The Biggest Loser. She saw some guy talking to a high school about how horrible being fat was, and how he’s finally deserving of love because he’s not 450lbs anymore. The camera panned to a young fat boy. He was crying. I guess my mother saw me as that fat boy. But what she didn’t consider is that maybe those tears are the tears of anger. Maybe he’s crying because he’s pissed. Because feels he’s worthy of love, but everyone else is telling him he’s not. Maybe he’s crying because he’s embarrassed. Because all he wants to do is run out of that gymnasium so the camera won’t pan at him again. Because he’s sick of being made to feel like he’s less than, simply because he weighs more.
    If that’s the case, then yes, I was that boy.

    I wasn’t a miserable 13 year old because I was fat.
    I was a miserable 13 year old because people treated me like garbage. I was a miserable 13 year old because my mother made me take pills and drink shakes, instead of eating meals. I was a miserable 13 year old because my brother projected his insecurities into me. I was a miserable 13 year old because no one would listen to me when I asked them to just see me as me, not the size of my JNCOs.
    I was a miserable 13 year old because we haven’t yet taught our children how to respect other people. The world is full of nasty people because we haven’t stood up and said loudly enough: IT’S NOT OKAY TO TREAT PEOPLE LIKE GARBAGE.

    I didn’t need a mother willing to put me under the knife to spare my feelings. I needed a mother willing to understand my feelings. I needed a mother who loved me for who I am; not one who loved me when I attended Weight Watchers with her.

    You are worthy. I promise you. You are worthy.