Oops...

These are all things I took issue with and brought to my employer for further discussion before signing the contract. Most of my coworkers signed without reading, treating it like an internet terms of service contract.

Companies BANK on the fact you’re not going to read it. Then they slip in shit like ‘you can’t talk about your wages’ because they want you to keep quiet, so thy can pay that guy six bucks, and pay the guy over there fifteen and pay you eight. They want you to accept it all blindly. PLEASE DON’T STAY BLIND.

Yes, I’ve lost out on jobs because I wanted to read it and they didn’t want me to. Or they wanted m to resign and I said no to to the things they added that I pointed out were unfair and borderline illegal. 

my brain, immediately: opens the file named “Red Flags I’ve Chosen To Ignore Up To Now”

A few weeks ago, we exhibited at Emerald City Comicon. Typically when we attend conventions, we try to create some spectacle that captures people’s attention and sells games. Like the time we brought a marching band to PAX Australia.

At ECCC, we set up a “Pay What You Want” booth and encouraged people to give us any amount of money in exchange for our games. We put games on a table, set up some signs, stood off to the side, and waited to see what would happen.

We brought 2000 games. Before the convention began, we took bets on what would happen:

Tom thought we’d sell out in a few hours.

Alex thought we’d run out on the of the second day of the con.

Trin thought that we would not run out of games because we are no longer cool or relevant.

Jenn got a fever and didn’t know what was happening.

We were all wrong. 

The doors opened, and attendees swarmed the booth. Within five minutes attendees realized they could just take games and walk away. A small group grabbed armfuls of free games and left, but most people paid something. Within an hour, the booth looked like this:

We ran out of games in 51 minutes.and made $8042.48, or 18.7% of the games’ retail value. In other words, we lost $685.44 per minute.

Attendees put lots of other stuff in the payment box too.

Some things you put in our box:

Five Canadian Dollars ($3.72 USD)

Ten Euros ($10.66 USD)

Eighty Philippine Pesos ($1.59 USD)

One Chinese Yuan ($0.14 USD)

One Cubone Pokemon Card, XY Breakthrough (Avg price - $0.68 USD)

One Magic: The Gathering Eternal Masters booster pack wrapper (No Value)

One handwritten “Any Pizza Free” and “Twisted Flicks + KPC” Coupon from a Papa Murphy’s in Kirkland, WA (Estimated Value $25.00 USD)

One $1 Bill folded into a bowtie ($1.00 USD)

One “FeelTheBurn.org” $1 bill. ($1.00 USD)

Two halves of a $1 bill ($1.00 USD )

Once we sold out, we had to figure out what to do with our booth space. 

On Saturday, we gave our space to artists who weren’t able to get a table at the con. People showed up to exhibit cosplay horns, board games, recycled journals, and comic art.

On the last day of the con, we set up a station for mailing letters to representatives.

We provided pens, paper, postage, envelopes, writing tips, and the address of every US Senator. 

Over 200 letters were written by con attendees, including the most bad ass Imperator Furiosa cosplayer we’ve ever seen.

But in “Zuko Alone”, when Zuko reveals his identity, one of the townspeople points to him and says (in disgust) “Hey I’ve heard of you. His own father burned and disowned him.”  A random Earth Kingdom man. In a small farming town in the middle of nowhere.

The details about Zuko’s banishment were known far and wide, but not inside the Fire Nation. The Fire Nation citizens and soldiers were probably fed some sanitized version of the story wherein Ozai simply had to banish his own treacherous, cowardly son. 

Zuko was hated abroad as a member of Fire Nation royalty, and hated in his own nation as a brat and a traitor.