Oh, is it nice to be done with yesterday. Well, sort of. It would seem I’ve got an ear infection starting this morning–don’t ask how, just to say it’s there, and I can’t find the antiseptic that’s suppose to be in the house. Oh, sure, I could ask, but I’m afraid I’m going to get rolling eyes when I do, like, “Oh, you can’t find it? Men.”
Yeah, it’s that sort of morning.
But, yesterday: up early, writing, editing, writing, going to movies, relaxing, chatting . . . not getting to bed until about 1 AM. Long day. Up at 6 today, so 5 hours of sleep under the pillow.
There was a very short discussion about trolling last night. One person seemed to think the idea that getting the IP addresses of people who were, let us say, a bit too excessive in their online commenting was laughable; I thought in some instances, if people are getting down right hateful with their “opinions”, then I didn’t see a problem, sometimes you do have to go after people and tell them to shut the hell up.
The other person tried to sorta forward the opinion that, like on 4chan, if you troll, expect to get flamed right back . . .
And as they Ninth Doctor once said, “And with that sentence, you just lost the right to even talk to me.”
Let me use, as an example, someone I used to game with. As in role playing game with. As in, lets play pretend and have a good time. For the most part games want to have a good time. They want to play, they want to enjoy the adventure.
This guy . . . not so much.
He liked to yell. He liked to belittle. He loved to tell people what idiots they were. We had an online forum where we could chat. He would continue his crap there, posting comments in 72 point type so you’d know, when he called you nine different kinds of fucking idiot for something something he didn’t like, you’d see. If you deleted one of his posts–which some of us could do for a while–he’d bitch that you were a coward because you didn’t want to hear about why you were such a lame jerkoff.
And when he’d finally get called out on his crap and told to knock it off, his fallback was always, “You have to excuse me: I’m an asshole, and I know it.”
Oh, okay. So when you made that totally unnecessarily comment about my daughter, it’s okay, you’re just an asshole, I understand.
Since I know a number of writers, there’s been tons said about people who show up in comment sections and leave a critique that amounts to little more than, “Ur novil sux, lutz!” before it goes on to mention that not only does it suck, but you should blind yourself out of shame for having created such a shitty tome. And those are the kind ones . . .
I’ve yet to encounter these people who want to break bad on you just for the sake of breaking bad, of going off on you because–who knows why. They’re jerks, losers, assholes: take your pick. A lot of it is that I don’t think they get creativity, that it’s just way beyond their ability to understand what it takes to produce something that’s even the slightest bit good.
It takes a lot of energy to get into something good and spread the word to others so they may enjoy, while it would appear that going on about how much something sucks is an easy thing. To discuss the goodness of something requires some modicum of critical thinking, while hating on anything requires a glare and the ability to type, “You suck!”, and there you have it. What more is needed?
Other than doing the one millionth Facebook share of a picture meme that tells everyone just how sucky Twilight is because the vampires sparkle. Boy, you just showed Steph, didn’t you?
I have enough negative energy around me, and if you want to continue to give me more by giving me a bad review, or simply telling me I suck so bad I should kill myself–don’t waste your time. I’m gonna go forward with the attitude, “Haters gonna hate,” and leave you to whatever pus-filled mind set you’ve fostered over the years. I no longer have time for people who want to bring me down, who want sow my world with disorder.
Be part of my solution, because you damn sure aren’t going to be another of my problems.