Casting Shadows

"Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster...for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." ~FWN

So let's talk about how it's been staring into the abyss that is VRchat and the current state of the online world. 
It sums up pretty strait forward by my experience in the Pool Parlor world.  
My first visit I went in sight un seen after having played on some VR pool tables that were in other worlds.  I stroll up to a table where the game was nearing it's end and I'm like "yo, how do I throw my quarters on the table to call next game."  This kid,
I say kid because anyone under 25 qualifies as a kid to me from my current age. 
Nothing against them or their experiences or their maturity it's just a professional consideration having been in the education profession in some capacity my entire adult life and most of my teen life. 
So this kid gets up in my face acting the fool thinking I was coming over to talk to the girl he was with or whatever. I just thought to myself, fuck this, and went back to my normal world hopping and listening to my podcasts. 
Then I was like....hold up "Aren't I supposed to be the adult here?  The Librarian?  The Educator?  The Example?"  So I started talking to people, trying to stick to mostly age verified instances to avoid kids until I could gauge the adults floating around. 
And I'll tell ya man.  
People in my age range, are few and far between.  
Probably because of the stigma that's always been placed on gaming and gamers. And probably because of the Stigma placed on the queer community in any setting so that anyone like myself.  Over 30, dates men and women, and has next to zero filter once people get to know me makes folks uncomfortable.  
The "Red Pill" "Mansosphere types"  because the kids and women that I treat with the same respect I would an adult see the difference and stop putting up with their bullshit. And kids, the wise ones anyways either steering clear of anyone that classifies as a legal adult and/or,  And these are the kids I tend to talk to, the ones trying to sus out if they need to call Chris Hanson or not.  
'cause let's be real man. 
Chris Hanson and his crew does need to be floating around in those worlds to put the fear of god into the actual groomers and "red pill chuds" calling abuse friendship and un reported assault moral superiority.  
My second visit in the pool world went very differently. 
I'd been hanging in a bar instance, listening to conversation, shooting pool and chit chatting with anyone that came over to play.  Had over heard a kid who was turning 21 being given advice on "how to get black out drunk" by someone a couple years older than that and I chimed in "Yo, not the best idea.  Isn't healthy, isn't safe.  Usually when you're drinking you want to avoid that kind of thing.  Especilly if you're alone in your room with a VR headset on.  Thats a recepie for passing out and choaking to death on your own vomit." 
Eventually an older lady, someone near my age comes over and says hi. Shoots some pool and invites me to the pool world and shows me the tournament room.  We play, some other folks come in.  I'm just vibing, knocking the balls around trying to get a read on these people. They talk about their time doing psychedelics and that kind of thing and I just stay quiet.  I have nothing to add and eventually call it a night. 
My next visit I head to the tournament room to play in relative quiet, get used to playing in VR with the more realistic physics the tables have to offer in the Parlor world and mess with different que and table settings. Eventually a couple of the people I had played with drift in and we shoot the shit until a minor shows up.  
I'm like, well shit.  Hopefully they're not just here to yell slurs and cause nonsense like a lot of kids do, immitating the adults in their life.  But na, the kid was quiet, respectful and I said hey "We've got 4 here, let's play teams.  The other adults run for their lives because they're terrified of being around a kid apparently.   Which, considering the "red pill" behavior of a lot of people.  Including the way I was treated when I first showed up.  Streamers trying to rage bait and having their fans following me around and harassing me because they thought they'd scare me off I could understand it.  
But that's the thing man.  
Growing up queer in the 90s.  Some online shit stains with an "Alpha" complex or whatever bullshit thing the mansosphere has cooked up nowadays don't really bother me.  In fact, being in VR has taught me some.. patience.  Not being able to fall back to physical defenses I was used to when I was younger and actually having to engage verbally with them.   Mind, it never really goes well the way I tend to mirror back the energy directed at me, but it is what it is. 
So I shot a few games with the kid, told em to be safe and to exercise stranger danger around adults, gave them a few pointers I'd learned over the years,  and keep up the practice,  'cause they seemed like they had some skill. 
And that was when I realized how toxic gaming culture has really become the norm over the past couple of decades and you people like myself really have to exmplify the change we want to see. 
The kids floating around need adults to show them healthy examples of safe adults they can interact with. 
And so I've been making friends again after nuking the friends list and changing the screen name. 
This time though being pretty damned selective about who I allow onto that list. 
Yeah. 
It's skewed largely to younger women.  Mostly because I give everyone the benefit of the doubt but when they start using the "Hard R" throwing around bigots' talk or start using Retard out of hand I just remove them from the list.  Which, as I've been saying, gets rid of a lot of strait dudes.  And even some queer dudes that I thought were chill in the beginning. 
I'd much prefer to find people within my age group that I can get along with.  But gamers my age are rare.  Even more so when I maintain the boundaries about who I'm willing to talk and hang with.  
Kind of like the other day.   Got an invite from a person that had friended me.  
See, that's the other thing.  
I don't send out friend invites anymore.  I accept them from people that seem like they're offering it in good faith when we meet in a chat world or a game world that promotes conversation, but I don't send 'em.  'cause I"m not going to be that older dude sending a bunch of people half my age friend invites.  
Then, if someone on the list invites me to hang out I go and spend an hour or two with them to vibe check and see if the initial conversation was just a best foot forward situation or if they really are on the up and up. 
So I found myself exploring a couple of horror worlds with these kids. Kind of like haunted houses with some game elements to them.  They were pretty neat and I saved em to take some other horror fans into if/when the time is right.  One of the kids drifted off and it came time for me to open up a scheduled thing for the Role Playing group I've found myself hosting in the past few months and the other kid tagged along. 
And it was sitting there, watching this horror movie that I was like, man.  
this kid felt safe enough to come to instance, not a private one mind, and hang with me while I waited to see if any folks interested in making characters or joining later games showed up. 
And I was like "This is how those guys do it, isn't it?  But instead of scheduled events and waiting for other people, they create their private instances and start the nefarious nonsense. 
I also realized.  If kids going through it, or looking for someone safe to talk to about it to try and get out of a shit situation I'm going to have to place myself in those situations. 
That's the funny part too. 
The next day.  
That same kid ended up joinig me fishing.  And brought along a diffrent friend.  
Someone claiming to be part of the Law Enforcement.  And there was an initial moment where were sussing each other out when I finally broke the ice by asking if they were there in a personal or professional capacity and reminding them that Mandatory reporters are mandatory reporters no matter where they are.  And we all went fishing.  
Not the type of folks I'm looking to make friends with, but I do like to be aware of other people.  Other adults, out there being role models instead of predators. 
And, you know, who to point the kids too if they're in they're having serious issues. 
So yep.  
Still at it.
Keeping up with the younger folk out in the worlds, providing safe spaces for the ones going through it to be able to talking things out if they need to, and trying to find people in my own age group that I can vibe with on a more personal level. 
I get why people didn't trust me in the start.  
I wouldn't either if I didn't know me or I didn't come with references. 
But, slowly but surely the community is coming together. 
They're starting to see that I'm modeling the change that people want to see in online spaces. 
And yep, looking for folks to pass the torch too. 
Which, as it stands, is mostly young women. 
Because...well...unfortunately. In the modern online climate they're the only ones that understand the dangers and pit falls of the mansosphere culture.  But, fortunately, for them and those that will come after them. They're hope, and drive, for creating a better, safer, and kinder world hasn't been extinguished yet. 
The only struggle now, is to get older people to be hopeful again and stop writing these young people off as a lost cause.  
'cause I'm telling you dude.  
When we're old...older than I am now, and loosing the mental and physical capacities to be self sufficient how we've treated them will directly effect how they treat us. And more importantly, how they'll treat the people they'll need to pass the torches too. 
But that's the change we're trying to affect. 
To quite some of these loud, overpowering voices, used to shouting down and blaming smaller, more vulnerable, communities for the things they are actually guilty of doing. 
You know. 
Like when you look into the people in the Epstine files.  See how they spoke in public v.s. what they were doing in private.  Watching how they used their leverage to stomp out these smaller communities that wouldn't let them in to affect their abuse on them.  
The same way the Blank Panthers were classified as domestic terrorists while the Klan and other such groups were said to "only be defending their freedom of speech' and what ever other twisting of the constitution they could use to justify their actions. 
much the way the current administration is doing to news organizations and activists groups that call out the actual war crimes and civil rights violations they're committing. 



"To light a candle is to cast a shadow." U.K.L. 

Myth's and Legends

 "Jack....You've been quite again.  What's up?"
"Composing and planning." 
"Which project this time?" 
"..."
"Is that?"
"Yeah."
"I thought you'd forgotten about that."
"Na, just getting the timeline right." 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


- Vietnam 1968 -
Crisp uniform, shiny boots, the Lieutenant blustered over to the Clerks’ desk. “Boy! I need a jeep and a driver.” The Clerk looked up from the newspaper he was reading with a bored look. “Pronto.” The Lieutenant added, punctuating with a heavy finger pulling the paper down to the desk.”
“Number 10’s available, sign here.” The clerk said, sliding a clipboard across the desk and flipping the paper back up.
“And my driver?”
Out of the back office stepped the Motor Pool Sergeant. “I’ll take this one Corporal.” the Sargent said, taking a helmet from its place hanging on the wall and shrugging into a flak jacket. 
“That’s not uniform standards, Sargent.  When we get back I expect you to remedy that situation.   Am I understood?”  The sergeant slung a rifle over his shoulder and gave a half hearted salute.
“Whatever you say there boss man.” The Sargent said heading out the door and down the line of jeeps.  He hopped into the seat, checked the play on the wheel and peddles then fired it up.  The Lieutenant crawled into the backseat as the engine came to life. “Where are we headed?” The Sargent asked, securing the rifle so it wouldn’t bounce around.
“Saigon, Quick as you can.”
“Sir, Saigon is a hot zone. I ain’t drivin’ in there without an official order and a full platoon at my back.”   The Sargent’s hand froze half way to the ignition switch as the cold steel of the Lieutenant's side arm pressed against the back of his head.”
“That IS an order.” The Lieutenant said, punctuating the statement with the cock of his hammer. “Now drive boy.”


-2 hours later-
The Sargent blinked trying to focus his vision, his hand came away from his head sticky with blood. 
“Damn Fab driving there bloke.  But what mad reason did you have driving into this city like you were on a drive in the country?”  Hands attached to the voice were pulling him across the ground under his arms.  The Sargent was vaguely aware of the smell of damp earth, and even though they moved into the shade it still felt like a swamp.
“Cracker ass mother fucker.”  The Sargent said, his eyes starting to focus and adjust to the relative darkness.
“You mean that mess of guts that was in your backseat.  You yanks are bloody insane.”
“Not my choice.”  The Sargent said. 
“Looks like we’re buddies here until things settle down.  Care for some tea?”


-1 Week later-
Reporters crowded the tent, surrounding the Young Doctor as he looked over the Sargent’s chart. “Dr. Wayne.  Why aren’t you back in the states?”
“My country called, I answered.” 
“And a man of your status is fine with treating Negros?” Another reporter asked.
“I treat patients.  The color of their skin doesn’t matter while they’re under my care.”
“Would you treat Charlie?” Yet another reporter asked.
“The Hippocratic oath applies to anyone that comes through those doors.”
Yet another reporter interjected. “Any substance to the rumors that British Intelligence is in the Area.
The soldier in the next bed rolled over onto their side.
“Can’t say I know much about that.” The young Doctor replied.



-Gotham 1986-
“Your tea Mum.” 
“Oh, Alfie.  It seems the Good Doctor and I are going out for dinner this evening and I wouldn’t want to ruin the young Master's appetite with a snack so soon after Lunch.” The socialite said, tossing her tightly curled locks over her shoulder and giving a small wink to the Butler.  “Do be a dear and swing by the stables to make sure Royce is ready to go around 5ish.
“As you say Mum.”   The butler made a smart turn in his tail coat and made his way across the estate and out to the stables.  Classic cruisers to the latest sports cars lined the garage.  Under the hood of one towards the end of a mechanic was performing an inspection. The Butler moved up on quiet feet “Sargent Fox.”
The mechanic's head hit the hood of the car.  “Jeezus, you’re like a ghost.”
The barest hint of a smile crossed the Butlers’ face as he watched the Mechanic straighten up and wipe sweat from his brow. “Dorthy says the royce should be ready to go by 5.”
The Mechanic's eyes widened in surprise then narrowed conspiratorially as he wiped grease from his hands. “I see Ms. Gale sent tea?”
“Indeed Sargent.”


-Gotham 1991-
The Butler kicked in the door to the lounge.  The Doctor and his Wife looked startled by the usually austere man moved towards the pool table, disheveled and smeared with blood. 
“What’s the meaning of this?” The Doctor asked as the Butler gently laid the person clad in black combat gear, a golden bat emblazoned across the tattered chest plate.  The Doctor moved over to get a closer look. “This man is a criminal!  And you bring him here!?!?”
The Butler pulled the mask off of the man’s face, the Doctor’s wife gasped. “Oh no…”
“He’s alive.” the Butler said, looking up at the doctor, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. “I can’t lose him.”
“Martha, get my bag.”  the Doctor said rolling up his sleeves.


-Gotham 1993 -
The detective looked at the young boy wrapped in the oversized blanket looking so small before turning back to the Butler.  “Paper Work says you and a Mr. Fox are his legal guardians in the event of a tragedy, is that right?”
“Yes sir.” Butler said, sad eyes watching the social worker try to coax the fragile child into speech.
“And the report says you were parked around the front of the theater?”
“Yes sir.  Can I see B…Young Master Bruce now?”
“Just a couple more questions.” The Detective said, studying the man’s face.
“Where was Mr. Fox this evening?”
“At his office.”
“At Wayne Enterprises?  What does he do there?”
“Research and Development he’s a very talented engineer.”
The Detectives eyebrow raised at the way Butler's tone lightened at the, almost absently, added detail. “And how long have you worked for Mr. Wayne?”
“20 years now.” 
The side door of the interrogation room opened and a well dressed middle aged man entered.  The Detective watched as the boy ran into his arms and clung to him, he turned his attention back to the Butler and caught a single tear running down his cheek.
“Let's finish this paperwork so you can take him home.


-England 1995-
“Why can’t I stay?  I can help!” The young man said from the back seat.
“You need your education, Young Master.” the butler said, eyeing him through the review mirror. “Do you not want to go to the school where Alfred and your Father met?” Mr. Fox said from his seat next to the boy.
“Yes…” The boy started
“Good.” Mr. Fox said interrupting.   “We’ll keep the house together while you’re at school.” 
“I know it’s because you’re the B…” The boy was cut off as the car lurched and the pair in the back was forced to catch himself against the back of the seat in front of him.
“They need to keep better track of their cat’s here.” the Butler said, turning in his seat and looking levelly at the young man.
The young man looked back and forth between the two men he had come to think of as his fathers. “Is this one of those ‘Don’t let the crackers see you cry’ things?”
The Butler's head snapped back forward trying to hide a smile. “The hell did you hear that?” Mr. Fox said, arching an eyebrow at the back of the Butlers’ head.
“Alfred said it when you guys were dancing the other night.”
“Let’s hope the school curbs your penchant for sneaking about while you’re here.” Mr. Fox said

Why you asking all these questions?

 "Jack folks have some questions about the languages you're choosing for the book."
"What about 'em."
"It's a fantasy setting right?"
"Meh."
"What does 'Meh' mean?"
"It means you'll have to wait and see."
"Okay...then why not use fantasy languages?"
"Because I like learning languages and if this thing blows up I want people to learn actual languages instead of some shit a white dude made up."
"Okay?  Then why the specific languages?"
"Because they are tied to where I came from, people I know, they reflect the resilience of people who's cultures 'history' tried to erase." 
"Players are saying the languages you've revealed so far are...am I getting this right? 
Tagalog
Cantonese
and Dine?   What is that?
"Dine` is the language of the Navajo nation."
"And you're using that for a people that live in tree towns?" 
"Yeah."
"Wait?  What?  I thought they're from the Southwest, aren't you from the the Kansas/Oklahoma area?  Neither of those places have anything with living in trees."
"As you said, it's a fantasy book and if fans, role players, cosplayers, want to play the characters they can learn the languages keeping them alive, then if they really want to learn the languages they can find the living people to teach them and learn their history through the stories." 
"And the trees thing?" 
"Like you said, it's a 'fantasy' novel'"
"So it's not a fantasy story?"
"...."
"Why won't you say."
"Because no ones' gone into the Temple yet."
"The temple?" 
"Yeah.  I've ran this scenario in five...six...different campaigns so far and either because the parties decided to go different directions, didn't survive the initial encounters because of hubris, or got bored building out their backgrounds the haven't cleared the temple yet."
"Why would they get board building out their backgrounds." 
" 'cause some people just want to roll dice and kill monsters and that's not what the game is about."
"But there are monsters, like Minotaur and giant scorpions?  Sounds kind a Greek  ?"
"Yeah."
"But it's not a fantasy story and they speak languages from places completely removed from one another in a place that has high technology alongside high fantasy"
"...."
"You're not as clever as you think you know."
"I know, but doesn't mean I have to make it easy." 
"So you didn't stop running the game then?"
"As long as the players show up during the scheduled hours I'll run the game."
"What about the new players.  They don't like starting at 1st level when there's already level 5 characters running around."
"Do the background work and they can level up.  Same as the other players."
"What does the background work have to do with leveling up in the game?" 
"Because the ending is already written, it's just a matter of getting there and I want to know what they want their characters are going to be in the 'final battle'.  The foundations for those skills, abilities, and what not are established in the background so that during the story it feels more like they 'knew' how to do these things but they never had to do it under pressure before.   That's where the leveling comes form.  Like coal being compressed into a diamond."
"But you've been ignoring people that have showed up when you're sitting in the worlds on game nights."
"...."
"Aren't you looking for more players?" 
"They haven't answered the question."
"What question?"
"...."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like I smell bad." 
"Catch me during officer hours and ask again."
"Wait where are you going?"
"To work." 

Tears From Heaven

 "How you doing over there Jack?"
"Not good man."
"What's up?  You just booted a bunch of people and look like you're going nonverbal again."
"Yeah." 
"Got played again didn't ya."
"Yeah."
"You knew it was too good to be true when someone asked you out of the blue."
"Yeah."
"But you went along with it anyways."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"...."
"What are you pointing at?"
"...."
"Someone else ripping off your ideas?"
"Yeah."
"You sure they are."
"Yeah."
"How can you be sure?"
"Timing."
"You thought friends were doing something nice for your birthday didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"That's why you hate your birthday isn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Because it's always about everyone else and what they can get out of the party?"
"Yeah."
"Are you going to finish the story?"
"It's already done."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"But you don't have a script and the manuscript isn't done yet."
"That's the easy part."
"Then why are you giving up."
"....."
"You're pointing again."
"...."
"Oh...I see.  You think because they already have millions in kick starter money and teams of artists and social media people that it's not worth finishing the manuscript." 
"Yeah."
"So why did you go along if you knew it was a setup?"
"Because..."
"Because why?"
"Because I wanted to finish the story." 
"And it's finished?"
"Yeah."
"Is there anything left to do?"
"Math."
"Math?"
"Yeah."
"What Math?"
"How long."
"How long what?"
"How long the ship traveled."
"What ship?"
"...."
"You're not going to say are you?"
"No."
"Why not work with the people that seem to be doing it already?  It would be easier that way."
"Because they're white."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"To many white stories.  I don't want to tell white stories.  White people have to many stories already." 
"You don't trust white people?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"...."
"You're pointing again."
"...."
"That's 'Gone with the Wind.'" 
"Yeah."
"Is that why you're struggling to find a team."
"Yeah."
"Because you don't want to work with White people."
"yeah."
"You're going to have to."
"...."
"Why are you grinning like that." 
"...."
"Stop that, you're weirding me out." 
"...."
"What?"
"White people are the bad guys."
"Is that the big reveal."
"No.  That's pretty obvious."
"So what's the big reveal?"
"...."
"Come on, tell."
"Pay me."
"Damn it."
"Yeah."

Pride and Destiny

Dear Sony, 

As you know 
Destiny 2 is ending.  

Destiny. 
Because of mismanagement on both sides of the line, Destiny 3 is no where to be seen. 
The community wants to rally in one week. 
Reset day. 
Arguably the final reset day. 
I find myself lacking the F.O.M.O. to join.  

I started my journey in Destiny solo.  
Playing catch up to friends.  Only to catch up and find out they were not the people I thought they were.  
So I moved on, went back to work, played other games. 
Destiny 2 came along and I started that journey with people that I thought were my friends. 
But here I am 9 years later and they too were not the people I thought they were. 
So I played solo, checking in with people from time to time trying to build a team to run the hard stuff. To compete in the raid races. 
To explore the universe with. 
And they, too, were not the people I thought they were. 
Then during the Pandemic I was approached by a random person one day.  
Someone that had a Lore based clan.  
That was rare. 
Clans being groups and teams with specific goals and purposes. 
Their goal was to get A title. 
Curse breaker.  

I said.  
"I'll help with that, but if I do. I want to build a team to do that kind of thing on the regular.  A team that helps people where others wouldn't. A non toxic alternative to the gatekeeping so prevalent in LFG culture. Only had 3 real rules for it. 
"Don't be racist, misogynist, or a bigot."
"Leave the toxcicity at the door"
"Don't cheat."
I was ten toes down on those rules.  Everything else would come in time if we built community up right.
Well, then came the bigots and I stood ten toes down defending people I counted as friends. 
And the community let them tear down what we had built, moved on, and left me holding the bag. 
So I started over. 
Tried to build a team, to teach people the hard content, to give them the skills to stand on their own, and to lead their own teams into new raids and dungeons. 

When the time came to do the hard work.  
To lead the way. 
They cheated. 
exploited. 
And copied other teams work instead of solving the puzzles themselves. 
So I just stopped. 
Stopped caring. 
Stopped working for them. 
Stopped supporting them. 
I stopped logging in. 
Stopped playing along. 
Stopped writing the stories about their guardians. 
Stopped sending money to replace their hardware or picking up other games for them to practice their skills in and hone their team work. 
Stopped managing the server. 
And when the toxicos started to show up that they brought thru the door I told them they had to clean their own house. 
And in the end?
I removed the toxicos myself, without explanation. 
Then I removed the cheaters without explanation.
Then, the ones that where left removed themselves and without explination.
And I moved on, to another project because I refuse to poor myself into communities that don't appreciate it anymore.  
Refuse to work for free building up communities for companies and groups that don't appreciate the work that goes into it.
Refuse to pay people that either didn't understand the assignment or did but didn't care enough to do it. 
Especially when I'm working on, literally a shoe string budget. 
Eating Ramen instead of Steak so that I would have the resources to support the community.
Paid out of pocket for everything myself, without the backing of a studio or company.

And with what the larger community is doing now?
They watched as the suits put their knee on the neck of the dev teams and creatives that poured themselves into the game despite the abuse that most of the community flung at them. 
And now that the body is going cold on the street they want to send thoughts and prayers to those very same teams that became jobless because of it. 
They continue to play Call of Duty and support the companies like Activation who created the culture that destroys such unique games. 
The suits behind the bean counters looking at their profit margins, not disappear... just not be unprofitable over the long term.  Their bonuses not be as high as they'd like while they continued to bring in salaries that tripled that of the hardest working coder. Then turn around and pretend that they didn't put the money that should have went into the dev teams and community into their own pockets. While, with full pockets, full bank accounts, and retirement plans that would make Midas blush said that the creatives didn't create enough, the community wasn't engaged enough.  Turned them out on the street when the profits that should have covered the short term slumps became cars, and art, and stock options instead of grocery money and residual payments for the people on who's backs these were built?

So yeah Sony.  

You going to let me put d3 development? 
Are you going to let me hire the team to build it?
Are you going to let me Unionize the teams so that they have a way of pushing back when the suites start to take advantage?  Start to steal from them? 

'cause that's the thing Sony. 
It's pride month. 
And that's the one thing that I and the various communities I built were able to carve out. 
A place where Pride was celebrated. 
A place where people refused to have a knee on their neck. 
A place where young people were safe to be themselves and were taught the critical thinking skills to build their own communities and how to handle the trolls and groomers and bigots that are so prevalent in other gaming communities. 

Don't believe I can do it? 
Look at the success of FFIV, Cyberpunk, No Man's sky, Fallout 76. 
They stuck to their guns despite what the suits had them do at launch. 
Continued to build the games they promised despite community backlash and C-suits pushing things out the door too soon. 
Hell, I think you even backed a couple of those. 
I know for a fact that the spider verse has been holding up their end of the bargain. 

Are you ready to hold up yours?
Because I'm hungry and ready to cook. 
I'm tired but nap when I need to. 
I'm sick, but still have time left.

So yeah Sony. 
Time to put the money where the mouth is. 
Time to build the next chapter. 
And this time.  
With me in the room. 
Instead of playing telephone and watching ya'll fumble what Live Service is supposed to mean and putting the wrong teams on the wrong projects. 
Can't say that last one is in your court. 
After all, you didn't put rocksteady on the Suicide Squad game.
Didn't try to turn simple multiplayer games into "Destiny Killers" 
All I'm asking is for a seat at the table. 
To represent the workers interest. 
And for ya'll to keep doing what you do. 
Make some bad ass hardware and let the creatives create for it. 
Otherwise I take Spidy and walk. 
Don't want to play that card.  
But you know I can.  

Your Move. 

Love
Jack.