Would you even accept a reply at face value?
Nor have I made any attempt at subtlety.
I'm not particularly genteel, either. I do generally aspire to civility, wherever possible.
The very same rush to judgement to which you subjected your fellow woman, if I'm not mistaken. And we've barely exchanged words.
I could furnish you with dozens of personal details which would blow your characterization of a stranger on the internet completely out of the water. Would they be taken at face value? Likely not, because you have been affronted by a (rather mild) criticism of your character and have chosen to defend yourself by way of a narrow-minded, self-serving, reflexive judgement that establishes you in the moral box seat of
your mind, and no amount of inconvenient personal testimony (or even supporting evidence) would dissuade you from pushing a convenient label upon me. You don't want to be the baddie or to have to reflect upon your own poor behavior, so you've rationalized a way to imagine yourself as the noblewoman. Nothing new under the sun.
No, you're not dealing with "Reel", whoever he/she really was or thought.
So you were
were "fussed" when Morrissey repped a civic nationalist political party which also numbers Indians and homosexuals among its supporters? Really? I've never personally cared for Anne Marie Waters myself, but the moral panic with which her party has been received is entirely contrived.
What an odd way to feel. Who knew that the morally superior could be so allergic to freedom?
Anyway, hint taken. You dislike or resent my presence.
You shouldn't let it get to you too much, though. I'm not frequent enough to inhibit you or to threaten whatever position you imagine yourself to have established here. Y'know, just how intolerant do you really need to be? How much online space do you really need to hog? Do you just keep fighting the baddies 'til the utopia of uniformity is achieved?
When did the wallflowers — a group among whom I dwelled before moving on and evolving into something more complete — become such intellectually tiny, book burning, pitchfork-wielding, noose-brandishing brutes, hellbent on achieving monolithic thought?
Enjoy your lonely, miserable orthodoxy, Karen.
(P.S. I think I did pretty well to type this post in between 32.5 kg dumbell shoulder press sets. Look, there goes a meathead streaking through morrissey-solo.com — string him up!)
🗃
Oi.
