For those of you who don’t read the comments, you’re missing something quite remarkable. An anon commenter here, who goes by the handle Fubar, has taken to offering comments that make my posts pale in comparison:
Excerpted from a manuscript initially hailed as a lost fifth book of Pope’s Dunciad, but quickly proved a wretchedly bad forgery, by a document examiner who could count.
Computer-armed, angry and witless,
Some jerk sent vile taunts to a witness.
“Slice your wrists!” is a threat?
Sayeth Kingkade, “You bet!”
Casting doubt on his logical fitness.
FIRE published the court-released docs.
(They never were locked in Fort Knox.)
“The vile taunt’s recipient
Was a witness percipient.
Lock ‘em up again!” bleat HuffPo’s flocks:
“Due process must always accrue
To me and mine, less so to you.
Tell the world that I’m talking,
I’ll be victim of stalking.
Common sense tells us that just won’t do.”
So goes forth this tale of stupidity,
And reasoning of dubious validity.
Do red faces enraged
Show their brains are engaged?
Or cerebral post-mortem lividity?
That’s just the last comment. He’s been at this for a while, and blows me away every time. Reading Fubar’s poetry has been one of the joys of having this blawg.
In contrast, I’ve found myself lately spending an inordinate amount of time dealing with comments that range from mind-numbingly ignorant (no, it is not my responsibility to correct whatever stupidity exists on the internets) to batshit crazy to trolling/shilling to the incomprehensible “jokes” that just aren’t witty in the least to the whiny, entitled demands of children, and their post hoc anger and defensiveness when their ignorant narcissism is noted.
There will be no substantive post today. For those who come here in search of cool news and commentary, you will be disappointed. I just don’t feel like it, largely because I find dealing with the backend of this blawg wearing. Not that I’m particularly tolerant to begin with, but my fuse has grown increasingly short. I’m not happy with myself because of this.
For those who know me in real life, you know that I’m not quite the curmudgeon I portray here. It can fun, at times, to use the role to make a point, but when I find that most of my time is spent dealing with problems, it’s just not fun anymore.
That’s where I found myself this morning. I started three different posts, but then lost interest in what I was writing. Every once in a while, I waste the space here with something entirely meta. Readers rarely think that maybe SJ isn’t all about them, as if they were paying good money for my efforts, and I owe them something.
Lest anyone read this and think I’m asking for advice. please know that I am not. Unless you’ve done what I do here, you have nothing to offer. Don’t do it. I will not take kindly to it. But this needs to be fun for me if I’m going to wake up in the morning and feel the desire to write.
It used to be that my fellow blawgers would make life interesting in the blawgosphere, but most have since found better uses of their time, and no longer bother. It used to be that interesting and thoughtful comments would make me feel that my efforts here were worthwhile, but I now find myself deluged with comments that just make me angry. Who needs that?
I truly enjoy and appreciate Fubar’s efforts, and some others as well. You should too. But when dealing with readers and comments reaches the point where it’s just a burden, and I spend too much energy being angry about it, then the fun is gone. I’ll see how I feel tomorrow.