In the last decade or so, since I started paying attention to this sort of thing, I have almost never seen these people actually make the sort of content that they claim to want so badly. (And the few times that I have seen it, the final result was almost predictably awful in its execution, so packed with stereotypes--which would be screamed down for being offensive if someone like I made them--that you'd almost think it was some long-game satire at work.)

No, it's always on other people to validate them, to give meaning to their otherwise basic-as-shit, bland little existences. And they have to get their fix, either by desperately wringing out an existing game in search of "coded" meaning that only they're wise and observant enough to see (yeah, right) or by casting out shrieking demands for new work to accommodate them.

And that leads to shit like this long-ass, pseudo-intellectual jerk-off session of an article, where all of this supposed hidden meaning is to be found in a game about mutated cephalopods squirting ink at each other. Well guess what faggots, it's not about queer life at all. Splatoon is made the Japanese, and those perverts are into bukkake and tentacle porn. Think about that for a moment, and you'll understand exactly what the real meaning behind the game is.

Checkmate!