Have you ever clicked that button and seen the next page?
For those missing it there, here, I'll explain.
For just seven US dollars and fifty US cents
a month you can subscribe to this event
and receive two disconcerting things.

First of all, the page itself says you'll be favored by the staff.
Secondly, you'll have more influence than those who don't pay
to influence the trends, which means, control of what is seen.

If you're confused, let me use a modern analogy. More online games than ever use this method of operation, free to play on one side, the other pay to win.

This keeps the total number of overall players high, and with these two sides in the same environment, it's only a matter of time before the desperate give in to this disparity and express piety with cash else completely fizzle out.

That's exactly what we have here. If paying expressly means you immediately mean more to this environment than those who don't, what the hell is the point of this at all, Elliot?

Why not bite the bullet and fully implement a pay-wall?
That way everyone who gives you money can be left alone in peace and harmony to ****** their ***** and/or their *****.

This might work with a game which contains intrinsic rules and values, but to use money to decide the fate of art is the same **** that's been going on for centuries.

Notice to the newer names on this site:

Beware.
You are a commodity.
You are a $

And if you air a grievance, the names who give their money will jump to the defense.

Can't you just be happy and not complain?

The poetry they use their sunshine to boost,
funny,

says the same thing.

It was dark and day
the day I read the words came straight
from [redacted]'s brain placed upon
this coded page

Oh my delightful
bedstand book took the rope and pulled
from the poetry a noose
with which to cull

its zombie
body
infused
with life
only as
love peace
& pros
per
ity

[redacted],
imbue
me be
fore I
leave

O,
please

Tonight I get to do what I was meant to do
To be who I was meant to be
And although every eyeball in every line of sight may be fixated on me
For an hour or so
That doesn’t change the fact that I
Was meant to step out this stage and to bend like a bow
As I did in the days of old
Such talent is still stretched within me
That I should perform, and that I should play, most doggedly
Until the finely threaded twine within my mind begins to unwind
And I am straight as an arrow hence
Laying on the table before, how I once had said
That I hope I can return once more for that again
But not for this I said
Not for this