The Truth About She-Ra 2018 – What Everyone’s Too Afraid to Say

When the 2018 She-Ra and the Princesses of Power reboot was announced, fans of the original were excited—finally, a modern update to a beloved, iconic heroine. But when the first character designs leaked, that excitement turned to confusion, frustration, and for many, disappointment.

And when those fans voiced their concerns? They weren’t met with answers. They were met with labels. This post isn’t about hate. It’s about what went wrong, why people were afraid to talk about it, and why it matters that we do now.

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The Redesign That Sparked a Firestorm

Let’s be blunt: the new Adora didn’t look like She-Ra.

She looked like a gender-neutral athlete, stripped of all femininity, grace, or heroic appeal. Gone was the strong, regal warrior—replaced with a boxy, flat, indistinct figure that, to many, resembled a young boy or a transitioning teen more than a 14-year-old girl with destiny on her shoulders.

People asked:

“Why does she look so masculine?”

“Why erase her femininity?”

“Is this even She-Ra anymore?”

And rather than engage with those questions… the creators and defenders shut them down.

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The Wall of Defense

The response from the show’s team and parts of the media was swift—and condescending.

“You’re just mad she’s not sexualized.”

“You must be sexist.”

“You just can’t handle progress.”

No acknowledgment of legacy. No engagement with the actual critique. Just political shielding. As if to say:

> “If you don’t like it, you’re the problem.”

With that being said and we look at the artistic integrity and ideological arrogance.

Why So Many Fans Stayed Silent

So why didn’t more people speak up?

Because they were afraid. In a time where disagreeing with a design choice could get you branded a bigot, sexist, or worse, many fans chose to stay quiet. Others watched the trailer, enjoyed the animation, and convinced themselves it was "fine." Even if the design still felt off, they let it slide to avoid the online mob.

But Now There’s a Shift

Videos like:

Jayne Theory’s takedown of the Netflix reboot

Analysis of why people actually hated the design

Fans are cheering the Amazon reboot for not following 2018’s direction

…are showing that fans are ready to speak the truth.

The Amazon live-action reboot is confirmed to be a clean slate—it won’t follow the 2018 version—and fans are relieved. Because finally, someone’s listening.

What About Catra?

Let’s not forget Catra’s arc. A character who:

Tried to destroy the world

Betrayed everyone she cared about

Emotionally abused allies

Was complicit in war crimes but she gets a redemption arc with no real consequences, and ends up kissing the protagonist. So was this about storytelling? Or about pushing a symbolic queer romance?

It felt less like justice and more like agenda-driven immunity.

The Real Message

This isn't about being anti-progress. It's about fair storytelling. If a character does wrong, they should face the consequences—no matter their gender, race, or sexuality. If a redesign removes everything iconic about a character, it should be open to critique. And if studios can’t handle feedback, they shouldn’t be making reboots.

Final Thought. 

The She-Ra 2018 reboot didn’t fail because fans were hateful. It failed because the creators refused to listen—and shielded weak design behind politics. Art thrives with accountability. And that’s why the Amazon reboot has a chance to get it right. Let’s hope they do. In other news i got one post coming soon of a tale how a bad design got backlash and managed to fixed it while the other is the opposite. 

The Cult of Community: Why the Show Should've Been Canceled Sooner

There was a time when I watched Community and thought, "Hey, this could go somewhere." But then, the show took a nosedive into something unrecognizable. What began as a quirky, slice-of-life comedy about a group of misfits in community college quickly mutated into a chaotic, self-absorbed satire that lost any shred of emotional core it once had.

And you know what? I never found Dan Harmon funny or brilliant. Not once.

Let’s not sugarcoat this: the show became cringe. A Frankenstein of genre parodies, meta commentary, and smug inside jokes that catered more to internet forums than actual human viewers. The writing leaned so hard into clever-for-clever's-sake that it forgot to be relatable or, frankly, entertaining.

Fans often defend Community with lines like "It was ahead of its time!" or "It was a masterpiece of meta-comedy!" But let’s be real—most episodes in the later seasons were so far up their own creative backsides, they forgot the point of television: to connect with people.

Ratings? Dead. The audience? Bleeding. The tone? All over the place. Yet somehow, it dragged on. NBC should have pulled the plug, and fast.

The reason it didn’t? Loud internet fandoms and the "six seasons and a movie" meme. It became a brand, not a story. A movement, not a meaningful series. And Harmon? He shouldn't have been anywhere near a writer's room. His drinking, missed deadlines, and reputation for toxic behavior are well-documented. Yet studios gave him a free pass in the name of "creative genius."

But I never saw that genius. I saw a showrunner who cared more about flexing his ego than developing characters. I saw a show that abandoned its soul in favor of gimmicks. And I saw fans latch onto it not because it was good, but because it felt different—and different, unfortunately, got confused for deep.

This wasn’t a slice-of-life series. It wasn’t a coming-of-age story. It was a parody of itself, trapped in a loop of diminishing returns.

Community should have been canceled. Not out of spite, but mercy. A once-promising premise buried under layers of noise, chaos, and self-indulgence. Some call it a cult classic. I call it a cautionary tale.

Lock it up. Shelf it for good. And next time, let’s make sure the emperor’s actually wearing clothes before we hand him six seasons and a movie.

Why the World Was Better Off Without Rooster Teeth and RWBY

Let’s not pretend this is about nitpicking animation frames or a few weak episodes. This is about a studio that promised innovation and community-driven storytelling — and instead delivered regression, identity confusion, and corporate pandering disguised as creativity. At the center of this implosion? RWBY. But yet the world was better off without Rooster Teeth and because Burnie wants it back so badly, he couldn't even let it go and move on with his life. But for rwby and still am upset with Viz Media 

The Death of Indie Authenticity

→ “From Garage to Corporate Graveyard”

Rooster Teeth used to be about grassroots creativity.

Red vs. Blue was lightning in a bottle — funny, raw, community-built.

But when they “scaled up,” they sold out. It became about merch pipelines and media deals over storytelling.

Crunch culture, internal scandals, HR disasters — this wasn't a company with flaws, it was a company built on ignoring them.

RWBY’s Legacy of Failure

→ “Style Over Substance — and Even the Style Got Worse”

RWBY began as a visual spectacle with Monty Oum’s kinetic animation. But it had one major flaw: no one knew how to write.

After Monty’s passing, the soul left the show. RT mishandled the series like a clumsy child with a glass sword.

Retcons. Inconsistencies. Plot threads dropped like bad habits. Characters written for Tumblr clout rather than narrative cohesion.

Pushing shipping wars and identity politics became more important than stakes or worldbuilding.

You can't build a compelling universe when your writers are rewriting it mid-season just to score social points.

 The Corporate Rot

→ “Community-Driven in Name Only”

Rooster Teeth weaponized its community — for free labor, for blind loyalty, for financial support they didn’t earn.

Merch lines, conventions, spinoffs — all to keep the brand afloat while the content quality tanked.

Fans who criticized were banned or buried. Constructive feedback? Brushed off unless you were a verified influencer. Take a look at Barbara Arryn Edd Miles Kerry and the folks at rooser teeth. 

At some point, it wasn’t about making something cool anymore. It was about pushing an image and maintaining brand synergy — even if the soul was dead.

Why We’re Better Off Without Them

→ “When a Giant Falls, Something New Can Grow”

Creators are no longer beholden to Rooster Teeth to break into animation.

Indie animators, VTubers, YouTubers, and small collectives are producing better content — without the baggage.

RWBY’s failure taught everyone what not to do: don’t ignore your audience, don’t substitute message for story, and don’t forget why you started.

RT fading into irrelevance isn’t a loss — it’s an opportunity for the real creatives to rise.

The Enablers and Echo Chamber: Naming Names

If RWBY fell apart, it wasn’t just because of poor direction or burnout — it was because the people involved refused to course-correct. They either didn't understand the criticism, willfully ignored it, or doubled down on mediocrity. Let’s break it down.

Kerry Shawcross

Let’s be blunt: Kerry went from Monty’s apprentice to RWBY's biggest liability.

He’s not a storyteller. He’s a fanfic-tier plotter at best — one who had years to learn and didn’t.

From bland dialogue to character arcs that go nowhere, Kerry kept failing upward, safe behind a shield of “well, he’s trying.”

The man couldn’t even handle V9’s pacing or tone, and now V10 looks like it’s been stitched together with duct tape and VTube filters.

Miles Luna

Used to be the fandom’s golden boy — now he’s the symbol of soft retcon and soft writing.

Spent more time making jokes on panels and loving the sound of his own voice than actually developing tight scripts.

His emotional arcs (Yang’s trauma, Blake’s redemption) were either unresolved or shoved into shipping fuel for internet points.

Left the show, came back, ghosted it again. What was the plan? Did he ever have one?

Eddy Rivas

Mr. “Lore Matters”—except when it doesn’t.

Built the World of Remnant, then smashed its internal logic to favor whatever Season X flavor he was pushing.

Vacuo was undercooked, Atlas was a tonal disaster, and don’t even get started on Cinder’s convoluted mess of a backstory.

Tried to play it serious, but when V9 asked for emotional clarity, Eddy delivered a PowerPoint presentation on how to ruin payoff.

The Fan Gurus and Gatekeepers

These weren’t just critics or fans — they were corporate guard dogs who helped suppress criticism and uphold Rooster Teeth’s fragile image.

CanonSeeker (or whatever his latest handle is)

Chronically online. Weaponizes lore to invalidate critique.

Makes 40-minute videos arguing that you just “don’t understand RWBY's deeper meanings.”

Translation: If you don’t like it, you're either wrong or not intelligent enough. Classic gaslighting.

MurderOfBirds

Once positioned as a “fan voice,” but turned full-on PR mouthpiece.

Critique died the day he got flown out to RTX.

Has a badge of access, not a badge of truth — and that access costs honesty.

Calxiyn and TheRWBYStyle

Shippers before storytellers.

Turned their platforms into sanctuaries for “safe discourse,” which means anything that doesn’t rock the RWBY boat.

Ignored writing flaws, called out fans for “toxicity,” but never once checked the writers’ failure to deliver.

RobinRising

Built clout on the backs of fan theorists, then turned around and mocked the critics the second it got real.

Obsessed with being right. Never interested in listening. Typical shill so calm and no idea if he ever respond to a criticism of rwby or himself. 

And Then Came Crunchyroll + V9/V10

Let’s talk about Crunchyroll's "rescue". RWBY didn’t get a revival — it got a plastic surgery disaster.

Volume 9 was marketed as deep and philosophical — instead, we got Alice in Wonderland meets a college improv class.

Characters regressed, pacing was glacial, and the ending? Just a setup for more product placement in Volume 10.

Now V10 is being delayed, reworked, and previewed in chunks. This isn’t hype — this is content triage.

To the Fans Who Feel Burned Like I Did: You’re not toxic. You’re not entitled.

You’re just someone who expected the show to respect your time, your passion, and the characters it introduced. If the creators couldn’t handle that? That’s not on you. Don’t let echo chambers and YouTube shills convince you that you’re the problem. You’re not. They are RWBY isn’t a tragedy because it ended. It’s a tragedy because it could’ve been great — and instead, it became a masterclass in what happens when creativity bows to cowardice.

Final Advice: Fandoms, Discords, and the Myth of “Constructive Positivity” Word of advice. Be the Lone Wolf. Own Your Voice. In today’s fandom climate, honest critique is treated like heresy. You speak your mind, and a dozen bootlickers will rush in with lore PDFs, emotional guilt-tripping, or smug lectures about “letting people enjoy things.” But here’s the truth: you’re not toxic for wanting better. You’re not negative for pointing out when a story falls apart. You’re a lone wolf because you see through the fog. And that’s powerful. You know who you are.

Yes, you — the one who replied to my post that lectures me all the time and never shuts up.

You're the type of fandom’s hall monitor that comes after my post or when I post a link, if I were you pal, don't bother. Maybe I expect someone else than you and don't come up and lecture me and say be positive or neutral, no forget it. Every fandom has to be so toxic. Being alone is better, or if you don't feel like being alone, then move on with your life. 

Next time someone critiques the show, maybe don’t throw academic fanfiction at them like it’s gospel. Sometimes, the best move is to just shut up and listen. And To Everyone Else Still Clinging to RWBY’s Sinking Ship: I get it. RWBY mattered. It had potential. It was fresh, it was bold, and it carried Monty Oum’s heart and soul. But Rooster Teeth killed that spark. The writing collapsed. The worldbuilding imploded. The show became a brand, not a story. And those of us who spoke up? We got labeled toxic, rude, or not real fans. But here’s the thing: We were right. And we still are. This blog isn’t about being bitter. It’s about being honest. RWBY had a chance to become something iconic — and instead, it became a blueprint for how not to run a show, a studio, or a fandom. So if you’re done pretending, done accepting crumbs, and done being gaslit by corporate storytelling and fandom influencers? Or follow those cosplayers who agree with a company and wants you too maybe don't some of them aren't what they use to be. 

Welcome to the pack.

A sky full of stars

Ok, so this track from Coldplay, from what i remember before, was like hearing it from childhood that i used to listen before and i have heard of Coldplay before like viva va track that gives me memories of my childhood from 2008-2010s This alone gives me memories of 2010 that i have. Probably my second favorite from Coldplay. 

RWBY Volume 10: A Disaster Waiting to Happen - Why a Reboot Is the Only Way Forward

RWBY has been a rollercoaster of potential and missteps. And now with the latest buzz surrounding Volume 10 and the so-called "early writing and planning," I have to say it outright: this isn't hope—this is desperation.

I don't care how many cosplay influencers, shill accounts, or corporate voices try to spin this as a great return. Volume 10 is not a triumphant continuation. It's the final stretch of a once-promising IP being dragged over the finish line by a studio—Viz Media—that might not even have the full resources or a confirmed animation studio to make this happen properly.

Let me ask: Where's the budget? Where's the confirmed studio? Who's funding this? Hulu is a streaming platform, not a production house. Unless Viz Media has millions saved up from overpriced merch and re-releases (which I doubt), we're looking at a project being run on fumes.

And then there’s the question of voice acting. Outside of Japan, RWBY has no real dub support. Viz would either need to license out dubs to other countries or risk alienating audiences with AI voiceovers, which is already controversial in many countries. This doesn’t look like growth—it looks like corner-cutting.

Let’s not forget the writing itself. Volume after volume, we've seen Kerry and Miles fumble with lore, character arcs, and basic structure. Penny, Pyrrha, Adam, CFVY, even Ruby—all these characters deserved more. Instead, we got Bumbleby shoved down our throats not because it was well-written, but because it pandered to a subset of the fandom.

This isn’t representation. This is exploitation. It's merch-driven narrative dressed up as diversity.

A reboot is not just necessary. It's the only way to redeem this franchise:

New VAs.

New writers.

New creative leadership.

Keep the concept, but fix the execution.

RWBY could have been the next Avatar: The Last Airbender. Instead, it's becoming a cautionary tale in how to alienate your fanbase and crash an IP with great potential.

Let the cosplayers, shills, and content creators who thrive off this mess celebrate Volume 10. But don’t say we didn’t warn you when it all falls apart.

Reboot RWBY. Or bury it.

End of story.

RWBY on Hulu: A Streaming Deal Isn’t a Revival

Let’s get something straight.

RWBY being added to Hulu on July 5th is not the win some fans are pretending it is. It’s not a resurrection, not a greenlight for Volume 10, and certainly not a revival of Rooster Teeth's original vision. It’s just reruns.

1. Streaming Isn’t Production

Viz Media is testing RWBY’s back catalog on streaming platforms like Hulu. This doesn’t signal any sort of production deal. It means Viz is looking for a return on what they already own. That’s it. Putting a series on Hulu is standard business when a company wants to milk residuals.

There is no confirmed studio attached to Volume 10. No director. No animator. No public funding or campaign to get it going. And certainly no crew like Miles Luna, Kerry Shawcross, or the classic VA lineup committing to a future season.

2. Don’t Fall for the Copium

We’re in an age where hope sells more than reality. The RWBY fandom is still reeling from the disbandment of Rooster Teeth and the fallout of Volume 9's reception. Some folks cling to the idea that Viz is secretly planning Volume 10, and the Hulu drop is step one.

It’s not. It’s called content dumping. Many companies throw their older IPs onto platforms to recoup losses or test engagement. That doesn’t equal greenlighting an expensive new volume.

3. Anime Expo Bait?

Some fans speculate this was announced before Anime Expo to hint at a bigger reveal. Maybe. But if a Volume 10 was actually happening, wouldn’t that be the big headline at the expo? Instead, we got a Hulu re-release.

If there’s a reveal coming, great. But don’t bank on a fully funded production. At best, we might get a manga. At worst, more delays and vague statements.

4. A Reboot Is Still the Best Option

RWBY is a burned-out brand. From poor pacing, divisive storytelling, to excessive pandering (yes, Bumbleby and shallow symbolism included), it alienated a large portion of its fanbase. If Viz truly wants to revive it, they need to reboot it:

New writers

New voice actors

Drop Kerry, Miles, Lindsay, Barbara, Kara, and Arryn

Reimagine the story with actual structure

Focus less on fandom-pleasing ships and more on coherent worldbuilding

5. Where Is the Money Going?

Viz isn’t rolling in endless cash. Outsourcing to a proper studio for V10 would cost big. If they don’t have a reliable partner (MAPPA? Studio Trigger?), then who’s footing the bill? Hulu? Doubt it.

Final Thoughts

Let’s stop pretending a streaming deal is a new beginning. RWBY on Hulu is a corporate move, not a creative one. Until Viz or a legitimate studio announces funding, staff, and direction, there is no Volume 10. Just echoes of what could’ve.  

You want to know what the real move is? A reboot.

Start from scratch. New voice cast. New creative direction. Scrap the old CRWBY. Kick Miles, Kerry, and the rest out of the picture. The brand is damaged. The story meandered, characters got butchered, and the fanbase splintered after pandering and tone-deaf decisions. Bumbleby may have been the breaking point, but it’s been a slow decline. A reboot gives RWBY a chance to win people back. Give it to a new team with actual passion and vision. Adapt it as a manga first. Let it breathe.

And yeah — I’m sure those who’ll laugh it off will reply back saying “reboot ain’t gonna happen” or think they’re right or wrong just because they claim to have “knowledge” or a “source.” But guess what? Clinging to the old mess is just asking for disaster. If you don’t want a reboot, that’s your disaster to enjoy. Because a reboot is the only option left.

Let Hulu have the reruns. Let the old cast fade. It’s time to rebuild from the ground up — or just let RWBY die a slow death.

I said what I said.