Aaron R. Davis
Stating your opinions anywhere online is always going to mean one thing: people who are so irrationally pissed off by the very existence of your words that they just have to slam on the keyboard until enough hateful bile spews forth that they can be sexually satisfied.
At least, that’s how I like to imagine it, because it’s not like I’m going to attribute any higher functions to people who answer a dissenting opinion with unfocused rage and diatribe instead of reason. Like Paul T. Riddell taught me, when someone disagrees with you, don’t say they’re wrong, ask them what they mean. But that would be a conversation, and these people aren’t after conversation. They’re just upset that what you said made them feel bad, and they imagine that by making you feel even worse, they’ll feel better about themselves. And anyone who puffs up their self-esteem that way is a sad human being indeed.
So I’m once again pulling out hateful comments from my online life and answering those comments right here.
And, of course, all of these comments are anonymous.
1. If you went to college, why do you seem like an ignorant pervert?
Because you’re someone who scores cheap ego points by strafing someone online with anonymous comments, so you don’t really know any better.
2. Ewww, you’re fat! No offense, but you’re obnoxious. LOSE SOME WEIGHT DUDE!
Well, who could be offended by that? No, seriously: why would I take the time to be offended by a some rude, graceless little pig who doesn’t even have the courage to leave a fake name? People who don’t own their comments are cowards whose words are completely empty. Oh, um, no offense.
3. Your scary looking.
Yes, but I’m also polite, decorous, forthright and honest. And I’ll still be those things when I’m thinner and healthier. But you’ll still be an asshole who doesn’t know anything about pronouns.
You truly impress me, Chim-Chim; you managed to tear yourself away from furiously masturbating to type a very small word that probably takes up a lot of space in your very small brain. The fact that you even know how to turn the computer on is a testament to your can-do spirit, Chuzzlewit, and it means that, in a world that needs button pushers, you will never be unemployable. (Rather a lot of extra a’s, though, so hopefully no code input for you.)
5. dude your gay
Possibly, but I can spell, capitalize and use proper grammar, so I’m still three up on you. Oh, and I’m not a moron, so there’s four.
6. Too bad you’re not as good at defending yourself in real life as you are on the net.
Huh, I didn’t know people still used the term “the net.” That’s so cute, by the way, how you pretend to know me in an attempt to make me insecure. Except that I barely know anyone because I don’t go out. And, of course, in real life I’m polite to people because they’re not hiding and will instead speak to my face. Anonymity is for cowards who don’t deserve the consideration.
Short answer: go fuck yourself.
7. im wack because im black and your fat because you’re a fag! you can’t talk back bcuz whitey just struck back so go to hell bitch and never come back and no matter how much fucking god damned crap you reply it won’t be as tough as this. Owned
Don’t sell yourself short: you’re also a total dipshit. You can own that. As an English teacher, I’d give you an F, but that’s the least of your problems. Evolution really let you down.
Now stop hitting on me and go back to drinking.
8. yo mamma aint a mozza
I admit, my mother is unfortunately not made of cheese.
9. You don’t want people to do anything but agree with you.
I’d tell you how wrong you are, but then I’d be disagreeing with you, and I don’t want to ever do anything that makes you feel smart.
10. When are you going to stop posting so many pictures of Kristen Bell? She’s plain and has stubby little legs?
How can you use a computer if you can’t see? But, on the off chance that you are sighted, I do apologize for doing such a shitty job of reflecting your tastes on a blog that isn’t yours. Doesn’t the world just suck sometimes?
11. Jeez, sorry the world isn’t the perfect place you think you deserve.
Oh, I don’t know what I deserve, really. The world’s not a perfect place. It’ll never be a perfect place. We all have our dreams, and sometimes they can’t come true, but they’re pleasant enough alone.
I’ll tell you what my ultimate fantasy is, okay?
I live in the mountains, but also near a lake. It’s nice up there in the summer, even though the air is a little thin, and I have all of my groceries delivered by a service. It’s the middle of July, so it’s my birthday, and except for my big-screen TV and my Internet connection, I’m pleasantly removed from humanity.
Meanwhile, roadhouse music is blaring on the CD player while Jessica Simpson is barbecuing outside. She’s wearing cowboy boots, a cowboy hat and Daisy Dukes, and her shirt is unbuttoned all the way down and tied up in a bunch just under her breasts. She gives me a wicked smile as she grabs me a Coca-Cola in an old-fashioned bottle, with a little condensation trickling down and then kisses me a substantial, candy-flavored kiss before serving me a birthday dinner of ribs, fries, garlic breadsticks and a marvelous dessert of ricotta strawberry shortcake. Then we sit together by the lake, wrapped in a blanket and softly singing together while we watch the sunset.
And also you were never born.
The wonder of Internet discourse.
Aaron R. Davis lives in a cave at the bottom of the ocean with his eyes shut tight and his fingers in his ears. You can contact him at email@example.com.