As the guy behind a long-running blog devoted to, as my tagline notes, tracking and mocking some of the worst pieces of crap on the internet, I’ve come to expect a good deal of criticism from the aforementioned worst pieces of crap on the internet.
What still surprises me is that they almost never criticize me for anything I’ve actually said or done. Instead, they attack my weight and my fondness for cats. And then, evidently having run out of true things to say about me, they move on to attacking me for things they’ve conjured up in their own brain about me, most of which bear little or no resemblance to the truth.
Last week, I got an email with the urgent subject “OMG OMG ITS YOU!!!” from someone calling himself TF2leplayer. The email consisted of a rather weirdly elaborate fantasy portrayal of what, I guess, he imagines my life to be. Or, at the very least, what he would prefer to think my life consists of.
EDIT: So it turns out this dude’s email is a slightly reworked copypasta of a 4chan-related meme. Not being a channer, I’m not up on all the 4chan memes. When 4chan copypasta is virtually indistinguishable from the kind of “fan mail” I get every day, well that doesn’t say much for the originality of my assorted critics.
There he is. There he goes again
Look everyone he shitposted again! Isn’t he just the funniest guy around?? Oh my god.
I can almost see your pathetic overweight frame glowing in the dark lit by your computer screen which is the only source of light in your room giggling like a little girl as you once again type your little “MUHSOGGYKNEES” up.
I do actually have adequate lighting.
Or maybe you don’t even do that, maybe you’re such a disgusting pile of dog shit that you actually steal shit off of Buzzfeed and Polygon.
Uh, what? I guess this would be a stinging insult if I actually did steal my stuff from either of these two sites, but since I don’t it kind of falls a teensy bit flat.
So it has no more effect on me than if he accused me of, I dunno, shoplifting Whitney Houston CDs from … I dunno, wherever they sell CDs these days. Do they sell CDs these days?
Oh we all know the issue, the uh oppressed minorities isn’t it?
Uh, I thought we’d already determined that I was “typing up MUHSOGGYKNEES.”
I imagine you, little shit, laughing so hard as you as you come up with biased articles, you drop your Doritos onto the floor.
As fond as I am of Doritos, I can’t really eat them regularly. Too much MSG. Gives me headaches.
But its ok, your mother will clean it up in the morning. Oh that’s right, did I fail to mention? You live with your mother!
Ah, the classic “you live with your mother” ploy! Now, there are plenty of people who live with their parents, for assorted reasons. I’m not one of them. So, again, this insult misses me completely. And it’s pretty damn uninspired.
Kick it up a notch, dude. Why not “you live in a poop house that is made of poop and that is also filled with poop, also the furniture is made of poop, and instead of a TV you watch a poop!”
I came up with that one off the top of my head.
You’re a fat fucking fuck up and she’s probably so sick of you already. So sick of having to do everything for you all god damn day, every day, for a grown man who spends all his time on Tumblr posting about white men and trannies.
Er, what? I haven’t posted anything on Tumblr since the glory days of Confused Cats Against Feminism last year. Which by the way was quite a popular little blog in its day, though as an essentially one-joke blog it was not one destined to last. Did I mention that it got written up in like dozens of publications? T-shirts are still available!
Just imagine this, she had you and then she thought you were going to be a scientist or an astronaut or something grand, and then you became a FEMINIST.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure my mom never thought I was going to be an astronaut. Moms can sense these things. I don’t really give off much of an “astronaut” vibe.
A pathetic triggered fag of a FEMINIST. She probably cries herself to sleep everyday thinking about how bad it is and how she wishes she could just disappear. She can’t even talk try to you because all you say is “HAVE YOU HEARD OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOR ANITA SARKEESIAN?”.
It’s weird, this assumption the #GamerGaters have that being a feminist requires that one worship Anita Sarkeesian. I mean, she seems cool, her videos are pretty good, and the fact that she gets endless harassment for them is fucking appalling, but I’m pretty sure I and most other feminists spend a lot less time thinking about Anita Sarkeesian than your typical #GamerGater does. She’s not actually the central figure in world feminism.
#GamerGaters and other antifeminists spend a lot of time and energy railing against feminists, but they know so little about feminism that they can’t even get the stereotypes right.
It’s as if I started mocking Italians for their love of lutefisk and their excessive flamenco dancing. I would get odd looks, and no one would actually be insulted.
You became a parody of your own self. And that’s all you are. A sad little man laughing in the dark by himself as he prepares to indulge in the same topic that he’s done a million times now.
Again, I have more than adequate lighting.
Oh, and that’s all you’ll ever be.
That turns out to be a somewhat ironic ending to this weird little missive.
Because when I click on the email address of Mr. TF2leplayer, I am directed to a rather sparse Google+ profile. The only thing of note I find there is a conversation Mr. TF2leplayer had in a YouTube comments section a year ago.
I’m just going to cut it off there, because it gets worse, much worse.
Now all this — what I’ve quoted and what I haven’t — doesn’t actually tell me anything about PewDiePie, video gamer and YouTube personality.
But it does tell me something about Mr. T. Namely, that he likes to go around accusing people he doesn’t like of things that aren’t true. And that he especially likes accusing people of being gay and living with their mother (not that there’s anything wrong with it). That’s not even as funny as the old standby: “You’re ugly and your mother dresses you funny.”
Seems like a sort of pointless and pathetic way to spend your life.
But what do I know, sitting n my room in the dark, giggling like a little girl and waiting for my mother to bring me another bag of Doritos?