it is not a question of what is allowed or not allowed. The specific point is the denigration of the paying patreons in relation to the delay of the updates. Now, without bothering Aristotle's logic, if one does not belong to this category of payers, he cannot complain about the slowness of updates in the face of payments, since he does not pay anything. In my country there is a proverb that says: "on a donated horse you don't look in the mouth ..."
I'm anxiously awaiting this community's deep dive into the nuances, sexual subtext, classical literature references, and downright naughtiness of the Dylan/Julia/Emma/Ellie foursome event scheduled for playable day 22. But since that is about a decade away I will fill my time providing L&P and anyone else who reads this thread my suggestions for how the development could be improved/accelerated.
BTW and FYI: In English the expression is "Never look a gift horse in the mouth" (with no ellipses) and while it may be a commonly used proverb in your country, it is very unlikely to be from your country. According to theidioms.com, [emphasis added]
"It is an ancient expression and the exact origin is unknown. However, the first print occurrence in English is found in 1546 in John Heywood’s “A dialogue conteinyng the nomber in effect of all the prouerbes in the Englishe tongue” (middle English). The phrase can be traced further back to the Latin text of St Jerome, The Letter to the Ephesians, in AD 400.
Source:
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Furthermore, I would say the application of this particular proverb to bolster your argument is a complete and utter failure of logic, Aristotelean or otherwise, or at minimum a misunderstanding of the scenario. I think an allegory is more apt:
I was dehydrated, starving, and near death on a deserted stretch of road outside San Alejo. I landed at the airport more than a two weeks prior. While trying to find my rental car on the ninth floor of the parking garage, some asshole in a very expensive looking sports coup - which I'm sure had at least six people in it despite being a five-seater - driving manically fast nearly runs me over. I lunged out of the way, dropping everything I was carrying, obviously, and somehow stumbled over the barrier, eventually tumbling 3,000 meters downhill, breaking my leg and several ribs in the process. I can't get up, I can't move, I can't help myself. My luggage and personal effects, including my cell phone, are either still up in that parking garage or strewn about the cliffs above, but either way are irretrievable. I'm fucked, right?
Crippled, lost, directionless, and with little hope of realizing the bright future I'd been looking forward to for years, I begin walking, limping and crawling as best I can. As I said, this goes on for more than two weeks, I'm living off dew collected in leaves and bugs I can catch and keep down without vomiting. I saw what looked like a deer, which would have been good protein but it was too rancid for me to consider it edible. The maggots gestating inside did provide enough sustenance for me to carry on, though.
I hear the sound of a car in the distance - a road! I lumber towards the sound and collapse on the side of a highway - I'm going to make it, I'm going to be ok!
Eventually, a man and woman on a motorcycle drive by and stop to ask me what's wrong (the woman is quite beautiful and her cheeks are flushed, I notice, and the man has a very confident and knowing smirk on his face). I tell them I haven't had a sip of water in nearly three days and I'm near death and ask if they could please help me out. They say they have nothing on them but they will be back with help. They ride off, and all I can think is that I will soon have food and water and another look at that sumptuous woman, her massive boobs and that incredibly tight black leather riding kit. I'm happy.
I wait. And I wait. Night falls. Nothing. I pass out. I awake to sunlight. Time passes, still no help arrives. I start crawling in the direction they were riding. I crawl all day, and by late afternoon I can see off in the distance a gas station on the side of the road with a minimart. There's a public pay phone and a shop full of bottled water, juices, and snacks. Did they just abandon me to die there knowing my plight? Why didn't they just call for help and bring me some water?! How cruel and selfish of them.
As my anger builds I hear what sounds like an armada of vehicles, including a motorcycle, coming up the road. It's him! He did come back - but what took so long?
He explains:
"Hey man, I know you've been hurting for a long time living on the scraps you could find, but I couldn't resist the notion that you might want more than water and a trip to the hospital. So I arranged a gourmet buffet meal for you! And a mariachi band to keep the mood up! But then I thought you'd also want a snake charmer, which I don't have to tell you takes some time to find, especially around here! And what party would be complete without a dance floor, which of course needs proper disco hall lighting. I had to build the portable dance floor all by myself because, you know, I couldn't find any carpenters that were better than me on short notice willing to work for cheap, so what's the point, right? And a dance party needs a DJ, which means a sound system and a portable power generator. And then I was sure you'd want to parade into town accompanied by the bumping beats of the local high school marching band, so I had to round them up, get the parental permission slips, arrange for transportation, and then the rehearsals. You know, it has to sound perfect right? Can't have sub-standard music for this event, right?"
I am stunned. But you know what the real kicker in all that is, he didn't even bring that hot sexy woman with him...
