You shouldn’t let the cretins get you down, I know. I shouldn’t even deign to reply, and I shouldn’t dignify it with a response. But as Melissa says, this is mostly a place for things I shouldn’t write. And as Audre Lorde said, “what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood.” The whole reason I started writing here, nearly three years ago now, was therapeutic. Yes, most people consider it crazy to take such therapy so public, but I’m kinda over that. The amount of random flyby support that you end up garnering via baring your soul in a cringe-worthy manner far outweighs whatever random ignorant insult you incur on the way. At least in a written forum. It’s true that I don’t normally bust out with as much commentary in a real life social setting. You learn to bite your tongue and roll your eyes after you turn your head. Or your cheek, if you will. But some people, they just beg for it. I have no willpower.
Last night I made a not completely innocent comment on a facebook status thread, and then left the house. Went to a friend’s house, had a good time with the CASA ladies, it was excellent. Come home, chug some water, flip open the laptop, and oh my gawd. A very wise blogger acquaintance once advised to write it, drink on it, sleep on it, and then decide whether to hit publish. I am far too impulsive. I happened to have drunk on it in advance, so I copy-pasted that mother and published and then slept and then edited and saved as a draft instead and then super sarcastically translated my unworthy opponent’s attack but didn’t publish and then forgot all about it for a while and now I’m thinking about it again. I can’t decide how much of it I can include here now without being a complete jackass. Honestly, to publish it all again is just too mean spirited. Talk about letting someone just hang themselves if you give them enough rope and presumably, Miller High Life.
To summarize, a friend posted a status update regarding his reentry into academia, I asked at which institution he enrolled, his buddy chimes in that he should not bother going back to school to improve his employment prospects and that he should simply sit and drink himself silly at the tiki bar, because he’s a rock star and rock stars don’t have to work, brotha. Friend’s wife chimes in, all, wtf Billy, you are a bad influence….yadayadayada, he comes back with I CAN READ BITCHES!!!!!! so I simply said, LOL did someone call you illiterate?
And he’s OFF. Granted, my comment was rather inflammatory, but the diatribe this guy went on just stunned me. He was obviously egged on by at least one person who’d blocked me (long story regarding my friend’s ex who’s the king of myspace morons), so I couldn’t see the back and forth between the two, but the one side alone was just…the only thing to do it justice is to just reprint it. Or at least the best nuggets of his…uh…homespun wisdom, anyhow. I should preface this with the fact that while we did go to high school together, I honestly do not remember the kid. I wish I’d known at the time that I was making such an impression. Also, I have to cop to at one point using a welfare reference very sarcastically, saying that the most practical way to finance my dreams of grad school would be to go on welfare (is that not the most obvious sarcasm ever?). Anyway, this is his response:
So yeah. I came home and read this and have no problem admitting to being reduced to a quivering mass of impotent rage, exactly the same way I felt at about seven, eight years of age, the the last time I encountered anyone brave enough to say something like that to me in a place they knew I’d hear/read it. Game on. All your slut shaming and sexism and calling me retarded and ugly are blahblahblah to me at this point. I already knew you were one of those, and I’m not naive enough to think I’d ever change you for that; all I can do there is pity your wife and kids and hope they are smarter and more open-minded than you in the long run, for their own good and the good of all who have to interact with what you disperse into the crowd of people lost enough to look up to you.
It reads as if someone else whose comment I also couldn’t see chimed in at some point to at least say that I am/was “nice” or something to that effect, which I do appreciate, but the whole thing just….ew. I should probably suspect it was no more than a comment on a nice ass or the like. I can’t help but want to try to give everyone some kind of out, some benefit of doubt, no matter what type of asshattery they choose to participate in. But onto my point. Yes, I think I might actually be going somewhere with this, bear with me.
The references to this are what reduce me to an eight year old, or worse. Technically, is this not some kind of bizarre racism? Ooooh, the multi-colored girl. She’s scary because that is just not right in my Big Book of Grievances, and I’m pissed that I must be affronted with her opinions or her presence and thus will even unthinkingly apply every method of retrofuckery possible in one fell swoop. Okay, a dozen or so swoops. I guess calling it a diatribe was overselling it. But you don’t come here to read my stating the obvious. My racism reference: I certainly am not trying to equate a white-privileged upbringing and heritage with the experience of any minority in this country, let alone anywhere else across the globe, but it this particular exchange (or lack thereof) somehow seems to to highlight the whole left vs. right mentality of this country’s general if not popular culture. It flummoxes me that he and I could sprout right out of the same white bread suburban excellent school system good education neighborhoods, and yet…..some people are just so much more comfortable choosing to continue the ignorance of the soon dead past than to take a chance on opening their mind to the possibility that xenophobia’s really not the way to go.