Off to Fantasy Land

This will give away a bit about your two writers/hosts, but don’t worry. We’re all friends here. Or at least frenemies. Whichever term you want to use, I’ll go for it. Not like you’re interested in what I’m wanting to call us, but here is something that I do want to talk about. I want to acknowledge where we came from. And in a way, I want to put a light on how convergence ruined where we came from…

Dave and I met each other over the internet in a hobby that’s odd to some. eWrestling (Electronic Wrestling for technicality, of course.) was where we both met. In a writing circle that’s long dead, that is. Because with everything in the world, all things must end. And we admit it to this day, we despised most of our peers in that circle. But it wasn’t always that way.

In an odd way, our dislike for our former peers is what brought about this site. At first we wanted to do something away from the hobby, because we were burned out on it. We wanted to learn how to write for money. To be blunt, sitting around and pretending to be John Cena doesn’t pay shit. As much as we would love to pretend to be an oversized meathead, it doesn’t pay anything on the bills.

After competing with life for a while, we went back to the hobby. However, the actions of where we went to shaped our own stance to what you see here. A lot of the peers we put up with were even more insufferable. Most of them, at best, need serious help. At worst, they probably need to be on watchlists. We saw the writing on the wall when we first started seeing the leader of the writing group infecting his home with Trump Derangement Syndrome. It’s a sad thing.

Mind you, neither Dave or I are Trump cheerleaders. We do appreciate a good trolling. Even then, we don’t want to hear the bitching and moaning of the aftermath. It gets old. And that’s what happened. Our trip to fantasy land was infected by Social Justice Warriors and bullshit theory on microaggression. Everyone had to be a checkmark on the LGBT list. Or they just had to bring in someone that was socially not seen.

The wrestling style we grew up with went from fantasy land to bombardment of bullshit ideals. Housewives, college dropouts, and drunks pontificating on how they can be more inclusive. That’s when the fun ends. When you allow the killers of fun to dictate fun. And this isn’t sour grapes.

I see it as the awakening I needed to get out of fantasy land and change the land I was in. Yes, Trump is preaching Make America Great Again. First step I took, I got out of Fantasy Land. So should the rest of you.