Gender, Non-Binary, and Things (or, the Likelihood of Failure)

As you may have heard, I changed my review guidelines so I could join my podcast, The Skiffy and Fanty Show, in its 2015 “Women and Non-Binary in SFF” theme.  This post isn’t really about that so much as the related subject of life and getting things right. Or, rather, getting things wrong and hoping for forgiveness. Already, I can tell that my efforts to provide representation for women and non-binary folks is going to an informative journey through no fault of the people involved.  Learning is, after all, partly experiential, and so it’s unlikely I can go through a year with such a clear focus without picking up on my own failings or picking up new behaviors, habits, concerns, dreams, aspirations, and so on.  I’m the type of person who finds something they love or care about, and then I start dreaming about all the ways I can do that thing, often knowing deep down that I won’t be able to paint the whole picture with the resources on hand.  Ambitious to a fault, if you will, about the things that matter to me, or that I find I’m most passionate about.  Podcasting and issues of representation happen to be two of the things from which I currently derive the most joy.  Partly, that’s because I find podcasting to be a great deal of fun — reading books, watching movies, and hanging out with friends; what’s not to love? And while issues of representation don’t provide the same kind of joy, they are something about which I am deeply passionate (if my Twitter feed were not already an indication).  It’s something I try to get right, not just in terms of science fiction and fantasy, but in terms of my everyday life.  Representation encompasses so much of the world we live in, and it informs so much of the life I now lead.  That’s why I wanted this year’s theme to be “Women and Non-Binary in SFF.”  I wanted the thing I love doing to be part of the thing that I am deeply passionate about, but in an explicit, “out there” sense.  This is about doing what I think is important and right. In truth, I will fail at this — sometimes miserably.  I will identify people by the wrong pronouns, even when I know it’s incorrect; habit will often get the best of me.  I will also assume a gender or sex for someone because I don’t know how to ask, or I may just get it wrong because I’m monumentally stupid sometimes.  In fact, I’ve already done some of these in the past (thankfully, to someone who is enormously gracious with their forgiveness).  I will fail in ways I can’t even imagine right now, because there’s so much I still don’t know or understand about gender, sex, sexism, patriarchy, women, non-binary people, and all manner of related topics.  The things I don’t know could fill the Grand Canyon. In truth, I haven’t been a good feminist for my whole life.  At times, I have been anything but.  I’ve done things I know now were wrong — and probably knew were wrong then, but used all kinds of mental gymnastics to convince myself otherwise.  Things that sometimes haunt me when I realize I was one of “those” guys, even though I was also one of “those” guys, too (relentlessly bullied, depressed (still), insecure (yeah, still), hopeless).  But being one of “those” guys didn’t make it okay for me to be one of “those” guys.  And I still feel a deep need to atone for the wrongs I have done, not just to women, but to all manner of people.  Not because any individual demands it, but because I want to be part of the solution, not the problem. I want to be a better person tomorrow than I am today.  I want to be the best person that I can be, even though I know perfection is impossible and that I will always be just shy of the mark no matter what.  But striving to be something “more” in life is, I think, more important than succeeding and moving on. So this is going to be a year where I try to be a good person, where I will fail, and where I will apologize.  By 2016, I hope I am a much better person than I was when this year began.  We shall see.

Great SF/F Books by Female Authors: A Massive Twitter List! #sffbywomen

Earlier today, I posted seven sf/f books by women worth checking out for International Women’s Day.  This led to a tweet asking folks online to list a single sf/f work by a woman that they think is exceptional.  Folks promptly ignored the “single” part and sent me a lot of suggestions.  You can add your own suggestions in the comments here or via the #sffbywomen tag on Twitter. In any case, if you’re looking for something new to read and care about gender parity, here’s a massive list of great works of sf/f by women (note:  the list may be edited later; I may send the question to Facebook and Google+ to make things interesting). Enjoy! Alexander, Alma. Midnight at Spanish Gardens Alexander, Alma. Secrets of Jin Shei Alexander, Alma. The Worldweaver Books Anderson, Laura S. The Boleyn King Andrews, Ilona. The Kate Daniels Series Aquirre, Ann. The Perdition and Sirantha Jax Series Arakawa, Hiromu. Full Metal Alchemist Armstrong, Kelley. The Cainsville Series Armstrong, Kelley. Women of the Otherworld Series Asaro, Catherine. The Last Hawk Atwood, Margaret. The Handmaid’s Tale Baker, Cage. The Company Novels Baker, Kage. The Anvil of the World Baker, Kage. The Garden of Iden Bear, Elizabeth. Carnival Bear, Elizabeth. Chill Bear, Elizabeth. Dust Bear, Elizabeth. Grail Bear, Elizabeth. Hammered Bear, Elizabeth. Range of Ghosts (and sequels) Bear, Elizabeth. Scardown Bear, Elizabeth. Undertow Bear, Elizabeth. Worldwired Bennett, Jenna. Fortune’s Hero Bernobich, Beth. Allegiance Bernobich, Beth. Passion Play Bernobich, Beth. Queen’s Hunt Bernobich, Beth. The Time Roads Beukes, Lauren. The Shining Girls Beukes, Lauren. Zoo City Bishop, Anne. Black Jewels Trilogy Bishop, Anne. Ephemera Series Bishop, Anne. The Others Series Bobet, Leah. Above Bodard, Aliette de. The Xuya Series Bond, Gwenda. Blackwood Bond, Gwenda. The Woken Gods Bradley, Marion Zimmer. The Avalon Series Bradley, Marion Zimmer. The Sword of Aldones Brennan, Marie. A Natural History of Dragons Brennan, Marie. Tropic of Serpents Briggs, Patricia. The Mercy Thompson Series Brook, Maljean. Heart of Steel Brook, Maljean. Riveted Brook, Maljean. The Iron Dukes Brown, Rosel George. Galactic Sibyl Sue Blue Bujold, Lois McMaster. Barrayar Bujold, Lois McMaster. Curse of Chalion Bujold, Lois McMaster. Komarr Bujold, Lois McMaster. Memory Bujold, Lois McMaster. Mirror Dance Bujold, Lois McMaster. Paladin of Souls Bujold, Lois McMaster. The Vorkosigan Saga Bujold, Lois McMaster. Warrior’s Apprentice Bull, Emma. War for the Oaks Butler, Octavia. Kindred Butler, Octavia. Parable of the Sower Butler, Octavia. Parable of the Talents Cadigan, Pat. Synners Caine, Rachel. The Weather Warden Series Carson, Rae. Girl of Fire and Thorns Series Cashore, Kristen. Bitterblue Cawkwell, Sarah. The Silver Skulls Books Cherryh, C.J. Downbelow Station Cherryh, C.J. Foreigner Cherryh, C.J. Fortress in the Eye of Time Cherryh, C.J. Pride of Chanur Chng, Joyce. Starfang Clarke, Susanna. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell Cooper, Brenda. The Creative Fire Cooper, Brenda. The Diamond Deep Cooper, Elspeth. The Wild Hunt Series Cooper, Karina. Tarnished Cooper, Louise. The Indigo Series Cooper, Louise. The Time Master Trilogy Cooper, Susan. The Dark is Rising Sequence Czerneda, Julie. A Thousand Words for Stranger Czerneda, Julie. In the Company of Others Downum, Amanda. The Drowning City Elgin, Suzette Haden. Communipath Worlds Elgin, Suzette Haden. Native Tongue Elliot, Kate. Crown of Stars Elliott, Kate. Cold Magic Engh, M.J. Arslan Eskridge, Kelley. Solitaire Files, Gemma. A Book of Tongues Fisher, Sharon Lynn. Ghost Planet Flewelling, Lynn. Luck in the Shadows Forsyth, Kate. Bitter Greens Foster, M.A. The Morphodite Trilogy Frohock, Teresa. Miserere: An Autumn Tale Gentle, Mary. Golden Witchbreed. Goldstein, Lisa. A Mask for the General Goldstein, Lisa. Red Magician Goldstein, Lisa. Strange Devices of Sun and Moon Goldstein, Lisa. The Dream Years Goldstein, Lisa. Tourists Goldstein, Lisa. Uncertain Places Goodman, Alison. A New Kind of Death Graham, Ellen. Lana’s Awakening Grant, Mira. The Newsflesh Series Griffith, Nicola. Hild Hall, Sarah. The Carhullan Army Hambly, Barbara. Dragonsbane Hamilton, Laurell K. Bite Hamilton, Laurell K. Carvings Hamilton, Laurell K. Never After Hamilton, Laurell K. Strange Candy Hand, Elizabeth. Winterlong Hartman, Rachel. Seraphina Henderson, Zenna. Ingathering: the Complete People Stories Hobb, Robin. The Liveship Traders Trilogy Hopkinson, Nalo. Sister Mine Hopkinson, Nalo. The New Moon’s Arms Höst, Andrea K. The Touchstone Series Jemesin, N.K. The Broken Kingdoms Jensen, Liz. The Rapture Jensen, Liz. The Uninvited Jones, Diana Wynne. A Sudden Wild Magic Jones, Diana Wynne. Black Maria Jones, Diana Wynne. Conrad’s Fate Jones, Diana Wynne. Deep Secret Jones, Diana Wynne. Homeward Bounders Jones, Diana Wynne. Islands of Chaldea Jones, Diana Wynne. Magicians of Caprona Jones, Diana Wynne. Ogre Downstairs Jones, Diana Wynne. The Dalemark Quartet Jones, Diana Wynne. The Merlin Conspiracy Jones, Diana Wynne. Wilkins’ Tooth Jones, Diana Wynne. Year of the Griffin Kane, Stacia. The Personal Demons and Magic Series Kellog, Marjorie B. The Lear’s Daughters Series Kennedy, Leigh. Journal of Nicholas the American Kerr, Katherine. The Deverry Series Kiernan, Caitlin R. The Drowning Girl Kittredge, Caitlin. The Black London Series Kowal, Mary Robinette. Glamour in Glass Koyanagi, Jacqueline. Ascension Kress, Nancy. Probability Moon Kurtz, Katherine. The Deryni Series L’Engle, Madeleine. A Wrinkle in Time. Larke, Glenda. The Last Stormlord Le Guin, Ursula K. Lavinia Le Guin, Ursula K. The Dispossessed Le Guin, Ursula K. The Left Hand of Darkness Leckie, Ann. Ancillary Justice Lee, Yoon Ha. Conservation of Shadows Leicht, Stina. And Blue Skies From Pain Leicht, Stina. Of Blood and Honey Lindholm, Mega. Cloven Hooves Link, Kelly. Magic for Beginners Loenen-Ruis, Rochita. “Alternate Girl’s Expatriate Life” Lord, Karen. Redemption in Indigo Lord, Karen. The Best of All Possible Worlds Lowachee, Karin. Burndive Lowachee, Karin. Cagebird Lowachee, Karin. Warchild Lowe, Helen. Heir of Night Lynn, Elizabeth. The Northern Girl MacAvoy, R.A. Damiano MacAvoy, R.A. Damiano’s Lute MacAvoy, R.A. Raphael MacAvoy, R.A. Tea with the Black Dragon Marks, Laurie. Fire Logic Marley, Louise. The Terrorists of Irustan Marr, Melissa. Carnival of Souls Marshall, Helen. Hair Side, Flesh Side Matthews, Susan R. The Jurisdiction Series Maurier, Daphne du. The House on the Strand May, Han. Star Sapphire McCaffrey, Anne. The Dragonriders of Pern Series McCaffrey, Anne. The Ship Who Sang McGuire, Seanan. One Salt Sea McIntyre,

On the SFWA Bulletin Petition Thing Nonsense

(Note:  I’ve listed links to other posts on this topic at the end.) I won’t have anything extensive to say on this “anti-political-correctness” petition thing.  That’s mostly because Radish Reviews has pretty well covered it… That said, there are a few things I’ll address: 1) I’m utterly baffled by the difficulty certain members of this community have with understanding what the First Amendment means.  We went over this in depth in my senior year of high school (everyone had to take a semester of government), so it was never a confusion for me:  the First Amendment only applies to the government interfering with speech.  In any other instance in which speech is hindered, the crime isn’t in preventing one’s speech, but something else entirely.  Libel perhaps.  Or maybe someone tied you down and forced you to write something against your will (like in Misery).  All illegal because you’re committing other forms of crime.  But it’s not illegal for me to tell anyone they can’t write for my blog.  It’s my blog.  It’s my space.  If you were to ask me why I was censoring you by not letting you write for my blog, my only response would be:  fuck off. And the SFWA is a private organization with its own rules, and one of those rules says the President handles publications.  So if the President wants to change the Bulletin to a fishing journal, he or she can do that.  Granted, I think it would be utterly stupid to do something like that, but so be it.  That wouldn’t be censorship either.  Even so, as C.C. Finlay has made clear all over the place, the changes coming to the Bulletin were requested by the majority of members, and one of those requests was basically “not publishing things that alienate segments of the community.”  You know, because the Bulletin is supposed to serve the members at large, not some subset of people who don’t particularly care if they offend other people with their words.  And if a good portion of people are offended by the content (legitimately offended, not “I’m offended because your offense means I can’t be offensive anymore,” which is total bullshit), then it makes sense to change things. Imagine, if you will (because you are probably a fan of SF/F and are fully capable of using your imagination), a situation where the Bulletin published an article in which one of the authors said Mormons aren’t real Christians (in seriousness, not as a reference to a work or something).  Can you imagine how many Mormons would be offended by this?  I know a few.  I’m sure some Mormon members of this organization would be offended, too.  And wouldn’t it go without saying that maybe we shouldn’t publish something in a journal about writing advice and market tips and professionalism that basically shits on other people, or at least makes others feel like they’ve been shit on (since individual perspectives vary)? Seems logical to me. It’s about respect, which I’ve already talked about. 2) I’m likewise baffled that Robert Silverberg admitted to signing the offensive, early version of the petition, even while admitting that he didn’t like what was in it.  How am I to take this man’s judgment seriously?  I don’t sign a loan contract if line 57 says “once a month, you will submit for experimental radiation tests to grow an alien tumor out of your rectum” and then say, “Well, but you’re going to change that part, right?”  The petition isn’t legally binding, obviously, but I still don’t understand the defense.  Either you agree with it as it is, or you don’t.  And if you don’t…well, don’t sign it. I should also note that the original version of the petition is precisely the problem with this whole conversation:  here’s the point <0>……………………………………….and here’s them <X>. They don’t get it.  In case you missed that part. 3) The petition makes this strange claim that the Bulletin is becoming politicized (it’s politically correct, oh noes), but I fail to see how removing things that have nothing to do with the theme of the Bulletin and intentionally making the content more inclusive is anything but apolitical.  The Bulletin isn’t a place to voice your political opinions anyway, so why should it make any effort to become a sandbox for those opinions which piss off a huge portion of the electorate and the people who actually care about this field?  It doesn’t cost anyone anything not to be a rude dick in a professional journal (and, yes, that’s what this comes down to).  Why would you *need* to voice an opinion about gay marriage or whether you think some members are fascists when that’s not the point of the Bulletin anyway? This isn’t about politics.  Well, OK, outside of the Bulletin, it’s about politics on some level, though I’m inclined as a crazy liberal raised by a lesbian mother ninja to think that inclusiveness is apolitical in nature.  But the Bulletin isn’t about politics.  That’s not it’s purpose.  That’s not what SFWA’s members want it to address.  So this is a non-issue. 4) I don’t know Resnick and Malzberg.  I’ve said my share on last year’s Bulletin fiasco already.  I will agree that some of the dialogue surrounding last year’s events reaches too far. However, I also understand the frustration.  For me, the issue with Resnick/Malzberg’s column is no longer “there was sexism in there,” which, in my mind, is fairly weak tea in comparison to, say Theodore Beale (Vox Day, who has since been removed from the SFWA), but rather the behavior demonstrated in that final column.  To receive a lot of criticism from a wide body of individuals and to simply discount it is one thing, but to then use a professional organization’s professional publication to lob an attack on those people is callous at best, petty and horrendously unprofessional at worst.  This is not the kind of behavior one expects to find in the pages of a professional journal, nor

Moderating the Community and the Cost of Respect

In a recent blog post, Alastair Reynolds took on what he perceives to be the instantaneous vitriol that peppers (or, perhaps, consumes) the SF/F community on a regular basis.  Hence the title:  “Does it have to be this way?”  It’s essentially an argument for moderation by way of a questioning of the current state of discussion in this community, and it’s an interesting question to ask. Does it have to be this way?  No.  That’s kind of the point.  Most of these discussions don’t have to begin and end with vitriol, though I think some of them require a certain firmness and uncompromising language (some).  In fact, it’s entirely reasonable to expect two people from different camps to have a reasonable discussion about a hot topic and come out having actually learned something (I do this on G+ all the time).  I’ve certainly been guilty of jumping without much care to where I land, and it’s something that I’ve tried to rectify to avoid the trap of attack over substance (it’s an ongoing process).  I’m certainly not successful on all counts, and it has taken some degree of effort to hone my pouncing instincts so I’m not pouncing when I should be doing something else.  Even then, I try to pick my battles with some degree of care. I’m sympathetic, then, to Reynold’s question and implied argument:  there is some need for, if not value in, moderating the community, especially in situations when the benefit of the doubt is actually necessary.  This is something I’ve started to consider further in my own case, as even I have had a tendency to leap into things, believing I’m in the right, when I may be doing more harm than good.  After all, it is possible I’ve misread situations, seeing what is obviously offensive to me, but missing what was the intention.  That’s not to suggest that intention gets one out of doing something boneheaded, mind you, but I do think intention should be taken into account more often than it is within our community.  If our community did more of that, perhaps we’d have more dialogue between various groups. For example, there’s the response to Paul Kemp’s original masculinity argument (which I sort of responded to here).  I think there are serious issues with what he claimed, particularly in the assumptions he raised and reinforced in order to get to his point, but I also went into that discussion realizing Kemp’s intentions were not malignant.  I understood the point he was trying to make, and so I tried to address that point without actually dealing with the individual (in part because I’ve talked with Kemp in the past and can’t see Kemp as deliberately “starting shit,” though his most recent post on this subject has thrown me for a loop).  Even Alex MacFarlane’s post on non-binary SF (which I responded to here) contains arguments I think are stretching; but the intention behind that post was, overall, a good one.  The responses to MacFarlane’s post, however, have been, at least where the “opposition” is concerned, hardly measured.  In some cases, they have been downright mean and accusatory, as if their authors were personally offended by the content of MacFarlane’s argument.  I’ll admit that it’s probably easy to find the patience for intention when it comes from someone with whom you’re likely to already agree, but every time I read MacFarlane’s post, I cannot fathom why some of the responses have been so vitriolic. Except now.  Now, I’m starting to understand.  Now, I recognize part of the trend in so many ragefests in our community (from any side).  Sometimes moderation doesn’t work because the parties involved have sacrificed respect for the other in the service of whatever point they want to make.  And in the face of that, it is impossible to take a moderate position (in the loosest sense — discussion over attack) when the thing to which you are responding has already committed offense without consideration of its impact.  In Reynolds’ post, for example, one commenter basically implied that they should be able to identify a transgender person by their biologically defined sex and attending gender without push back by others. Reynolds rightly called this person out for the comment, and it is still there as of the writing of this post. These sorts of arguments are almost explicit in their rejection of empathy and respect for another individual.  The opinion isn’t the concern; rather, it is the complete disinterest in the personal desires of the individual.  In this argument, it doesn’t matter what a transgender person feels or prefers; what matters is what is “the majority opinion” or “whatever suits my personal opinion of the matter.”  That’s problematic on its own.  Yet, this same argument either implies or explicitly states that refusing the empathic or respectful position deserves absolute respect and compromise for itself.  It’s an argument for consequence-free social action, which itself is a justification not for moderation, but the extreme.  Yet, when this is pointed out to people who reject en mass the entirety of gender as a fluid social construct, they refuse, even on grounds of empathy, to give way, and become further entrenched.  It is as if the very idea of a transgender person being offended by being ignored and rejected out of hand is an offense in and of itself. For me, much of this comes down to the cost.  It is one thing to demand respect for a position which directly affects others in a negative sense.  If, for example, I were to demand respect for my position that we should boot all libertarians from the SFWA because I think they’re fascist pig monkeys (note:  I do not actually believe this), you would be right in giving me no ground whatsoever, especially if you are a libertarian.  But what exactly is lost by calling someone by the gender they believe they are?  I mean that question seriously:  what is lost by compromising on this

Non-Binary SF/F and Message Fiction (or, “I don’t know what that is or why non-binary SF/F fits”)

(Note:  comments will be monitored on this post due to the nature of the debate surrounding this topic.  I hope I won’t have to remove anything, but I have a low tolerance for rude behavior right now.  If you can’t make your point without being a jackass, even if that point agrees with my own, then take it elsewhere.) You might have seen the response to Alex MacFarlane’s Tor.com post, “Post-Binary Gender in SF:  Introduction.”  If not, you can read the words of Jim C. Hines and Justin Landon, who both have things to say of their own.  I’m not going to address content of the primary response to MacFarlane (well, not the whole of it, anyway) or offer a line-by-line critique a la Hines.  Rather, I want to talk about a specific issue within this debate:  message fiction.  I would also be remiss to neglect to mention my post entitled “Gender Essentialism, Genre, and Me,” which is amusingly relevant to the larger discussion being had in the community right now. First, though I’m going to try to tease out the definition of message fiction in general by the end of this post, I should note that I’m not altogether clear on what certain individuals mean when they revile message fiction, except insofar as the politics are concerned.  Of the many references some in this debate have made to “the message”, none of them properly defines the term and most engage with a strawman version of MacFarlan’es argument.  MacFarlane’s column concerns the tendency to marginalize works which feature non-binary genders by exceptionalizing them.  Her primary example is The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin, which she says has been held up as the pinnacle of post-binary SF, while other equally important works have fallen away, such that we are constantly “re-discovering” them: It seems to me that there’s a similar process for post-binary texts: they exist, but each reader must discover them anew amid a narrative that says they are unusual, they are rare, they sit outside the standard set of stories. This, at least, has been my experience. I want to dismantle the sediment—to not only talk about post-binary texts and bring them to attention of more readers, but to do away with the default narrative. MacFarlane, in other words, is interested in this narrative, not quotas or checklists — the narrative which says “these texts about non-binary genders are not normal precisely because they are unusual.”  The problem with this narrative is in its ability to provide a rationale for ignorance, not on some political territory where these works must be ignored because they violate some central tenet of an “ism” — though this is true to an extent — but rather on the simple basis of cultural amnesia.  If we are not talking about works of a particular form, we are submitting to the possibility that those works will be forgotten, and along with them, the value they produce for the communities to which they might belong.  It is for this reason, I think, that she begins the post with the following:  “I want an end to the default of binary gender in science fiction stories” (emphasis mine).  The word “default” is not insignificant in the context of the entire post.[1]  The post isn’t calling for fiction to deliberately include non-binary genders for the sake of doing so (i.e., for an agenda); rather, it calls for SF/F to remove the default assumptions about gender in order to open up wider possibilities for inclusion (who does the including isn’t exactly relevant, since nobody has to do anything here).  I think this is a far too lofty goal, and deeply hyperbolic, but it seems like some have missed that careful nuance for one reason or another.  The idea that all SF/F must, by necessity, court the content of MacFarlane’s argument isn’t a notion supported by the argument itself.  In all of this, the question for me becomes:  do the works MacFarlane wishes to discuss in this series deserve to be remembered?  Personally, I think they do for various reasons, though the most relevant here, I think, is the fact that these works, even in their most obscure forms, are an example of SF/F’s remarkable imaginative, extrapolative, and critical potential.  And that potential is not isolated to “stuffy” works; rather, it is found in a whole sea of exceptional and memorable texts from before the codification of the genres to the present.  This is what SF/F does best!  Most of the time, it’s a lot of fun (in my entirely subjective opinion). All of this brings me back to the point about “message fiction.”  The entirety of discussion about this topic concerns a term which has no defined criteria by which we can discern message fiction from just fiction.  The only criteria, as far as I can tell, is that message fiction isn’t fun, but since “fun” is entirely subjective, it’s impossible to apply that in any significant way.  Some who attack message fiction provide an explanation for one of message fiction’s functions, which is to subvert the natural drive of a narrative by bogging down the whole with an agenda, but the best explanation on offer boils down to “here are some works which have messages.”  Even upon a deeper search into certain individuals’ posts revealed little useful material for understanding, at the very least, how they define the term.  There are numerous claims about liberals taking over Worldcon, making it impossible for conservative message stories (or books by conservatives, by extension) to appear on the ballots[3] and people avoiding SF because of messages.  At what point does fiction with political issues in them become “preachy” or “message-y”?  No idea.  The argument is never made; we’re simply supposed to accept it as accurate on the basis of someone’s word, which you’ll notice is quite difficult when so much of the discussion centers around political affiliations (liberals this, liberals that).  The claims are weirdly paranoid, like the Illuminati