Sometimes the most cheerful act of solidarity is a well-placed typo. Bruce Knapik, a senior trust and safety manager at Epic Games, has owned summergamesfest.com for six years. Not the official site, which belongs to Geoff Keighley's annual gaming showcase Summer Game Fest (singular, no s, for reasons nobody has ever satisfactorily explained). The typo site. The one people land on when they add a stray s. And for the past few weeks, everyone who fumbles the URL has been landing, quietly and without ceremony, at the Transgender Law Center.
I love this so much.
Knapik has been cycling the redirect through causes for years: Black Lives Matter, Palestine, solidarity with laid-off games journalists, a picture of a taco shell containing a sausage that I choose not to over-analyse. This time it is personal. His mother is a lesbian. He came up through queer Baltimore nightlife after leaving the Army. People he served with transitioned the moment they were free to do so. He describes himself as garden-variety bi, which is a wonderful phrase, and he has spent decades close enough to trans lives to understand both what trans joy looks like and how efficiently trans hate tears the road to it up.
His Bluesky post is worth reading in full, because it is written by someone who is not performing allyship but simply explaining himself. He thinks there are fewer bigots now than there used to be. He also thinks they are louder, better resourced, and more politically powerful than at any point in his lifetime. UFC champions posting AI-generated depictions of hate crimes. Behaviour that would have ended a YouTube career ten years ago now just another Tuesday for a major public figure. So the typo website goes to the lawyers. Seems reasonable to me.
What I find genuinely moving here, beyond the wit of the thing, is what it says about how support actually spreads. Bruce Knapik did not wake up one morning and decide to become an ally. He grew up around queer people. He worked in a queer space. He watched friends transition. The understanding came from proximity, from ordinary human closeness, from seeing people he cared about living their lives. That is how most people come to give a damn about trans rights: not through arguments, but through knowing someone. The Transgender Law Center does extraordinary work fighting in courts and legislatures, but the quiet accumulation of people like Knapik, who just quietly point a typo domain at the people who need it, is part of the same fabric.
The site currently auto-populates with the preview text "Gamergate Was A Jeff Epstein Joint" when posted to Bluesky, which suggests Knapik's tongue remains at least partially in his cheek throughout. Good. Trans advocacy does not have to look like a courtroom or a protest. Sometimes it looks like this: funny, clever, warm, and completely unanswerable.