George R.R. Martin has posted a long-winded history of “his” Hugo Loser’s Party, leading up to his explanation of why he decided to throw an invite-only private party at a rented historic mansion in Spokane last Saturday.
His rationale boils down to:
1. I’m rich and I can; and
2. I didn’t want to rub elbows with the riff-raff.
I ran into George at the “official” reception, and asked him about a non-Hugo related subject, an article I did last spring regarding his donation of a rare first edition of “The Hobbit” to the Texas AQ&M University Library System. He essentially blew me off; I realize now he was only there to find his chums and hand them the private invites. Of course, I had no idea what he was up to. And of course, he didn’t stop to hand me an invite. But I mean, if you read his blog post – I hardly think I would have been happy there.
In his blog post, at one point he says:
“Some who were not invited. NO ASSHOLES, the invite warned. We had a small list, and no, I won't tell you the names on it... but we wanted this party to be about joy and celebration and togetherness…”
Jeez, George, I may not be the smartest kid in class, but it’s easy to tell my name was on your Asshole list. You know what? At least I didn’t forget my working class roots.
Over the years, people have made up cute little explanations of what “R.R.” stands for. “Railroad” is one; thanks to your proclivity for writing sexual violence into your fantasy sagas, “Rape. Rape” has become another one.
Now I see they stand for “Rolls Royce”. Despite your sanctimonious protestations of being “just a fan who wants to have fun”, in the end you’re just another rich snob.
If I live to be 100 and die with a billion dollars in the bank (highly unlikely) I will never betray my working class roots like you did.