Earlier today I got an anonymous comment from some asshole. It read, "Dear Jelly, I don't know you, but I felt like swinging by to criticize your "blog" and try to make you feel shitty."
Whazzup Anonymous!!! Good job! I felt my cheeks flush red as I viewed your snippy little put down. Awesome!
Asshole continued, "Wow! Sappy shit!"
Ahhh! You were referring to my "Smitten" post. Yah. Maybe it was sappy, but you have to view the whole picture. See, Ada and Inman fell in love before he left to fight the war. While he was gone Ada suffered a whole host of trouble, no food, her neighbours murdered, her father dying, and worst of all, perhaps, not hearing once from Inman. She didn't know, when she wrote her letter begging his return, whether he was dead or alive. I'll bet it didn't even take a small chip off your cold back charred heart, but it resonated with me. My friend is neither marching nor fighting, so Ada's letter wasn't meant as a message from me to him, but rather just a note about a movie I once watched that I really liked. John's comment, that the book was better than the movie, is probably right. My friend Herb in Japan said the same thing, but I've never read the book. I know that half way through watching the movie, though, my chest was wet with tears. Yep, I'm sappy. Sapified. I'm a regular Maple Tree.
Funny enough, then Asshole got all confessional. "First and last time I read this "blog." See how I put "blog" in quotes? It makes it seem like your space here doesn't even deserve the term "blog." If I really liked it, I would call it **BLOG!!** But since you suck, you only get "blog." I'm fucking clever, huh?
It got worse. "I like to troll around and drop shitty comments on "blogs" that I deem not up to par. It's not really a refection on you, but more so that I have horribly misfigured genitalia and I've been scarred by the taunts in the gym changing room. The only love I get is from my flock of sheep I roughly govern in the afternoons. Your last post sounded kind of "happy," (note the quotes) and that just pisses me off. Screw "you" and your "blog."
Asshole, I hear your pain. I'm sorry about the gross funk you sport in your underwear and I know life can be cruel. It makes me want to cry, but that's understandable since I'm so sappy. As for the "first and last time" you read my "blog," quit lying. You were here this morning. You left your comment this afternoon. You were here a couple hours afterwards. You were here last week, and the weeks before, and you'll be here again. Unfortunately. If you don't like what I write, I suggest you take your big pile of mangled sex organs and your fluffy wooly lovers, make like a "maple" tree and leave. Better yet, "fuck off!"
Sheepy say,"Grow up!"
For real? Ok! Hey, I'm not the coward here.
Perhaps the worst thing is that this Asshole was right. I didn't listen to my intuition which was to say nothing. I ignored my impulse to send out a few e-mails and watch Inside Man, and instead posted a little thing about something which is really none of anyone's business. But in this "blogging" world (yah, I can use quotation marks too, Sheepy) it's often the nature of the beast. But like Dalton Russell says in the movie, "Respect is the ultimate currency."
Surely there are already millions of posts and comments about trolls. Why someone would get off about leaving an anonymous hateful comment on another person's site is beyond me. I've been lucky so far with my comments. I've not been overly spammed and almost never hated on. It was one of my biggest fears about even starting to write online. But like Kevin did, I've got no problem with making my comments disappear. Charles has some great insight about comments as well - or how the lack of them can be a good thing.
I welcome people here. I encourage comments. If you disagree with something I've said, feel free to tell me. Just don't be a gutless sheep-fucker about it.
Stairing back at me
11 hours ago
4 comments:
John, thank you for that. I'd really hate to shut down comments.
It's almost worse than inviting someone to your home who ends up shitting on a rug. It's inviting someone into your thoughts and having them shit on that.
Floors me.
See my rug/floor pun? Ha ha!
Jenny, your assumption is wrong. It is highly unlikely the comment came from Christchurch. I don't think there is someone else reading your blog from Christchurch apart from myself. It looks like I was at your blog not long after the nasty visitor dropped by. I didn't even know the word sappy, and I had to look up an online dictionary to find out what it meant. You probably remember me as I left a few comments in the past, and I don't think I left any negative one.
I think there is something you can do to censor comments as I have seen on some others' blogs.
Humbleman, you're probably right and I've changed this post. I apologize.
I don't mind negative comments, just as long as they're not anonymous and they're respectful.
You've never been negative, nor disrespectful. Thank you for commenting!
Well, FUCK.
I see I missed the fireworks.
Maybe this was just that dude's way of flirting. Emotionally retarded people are like that.
I'm reminded of how certain male birds can get a "thing" for people-- they'll land on your shoulder, leave a little blob of sperm there, and fly off. "No thanks necessary, ma'am-- just doing my job!"
We each have our own way to say "You're sweet." I think Sheepy can't admit he's got some fierce morning wool for you.
Kevin
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