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Some people can't help themselves

Tuesday 7/16/24

The example that follows is a tiny thing in and of itself, but it also speaks to people's attitude towards me. They are preemptively adversarial. From before the start, based upon what they know about me and what I do and what I am. They arrive having committed to opposing. Before anything happens or anything is offered, if that's relevant. They have made up their minds to be against this other person.


There is no one who so much as hits the like button on my Facebook posts. You will not see that with anyone else, no matter how stupid it is what they post. I could save babies from a burning house, mention that, and no one would hit the like button. And think of all the things I know about, all of the subjects, all of the things about all of the different things, and very relatable things, too, very human things, admirable things, great things, even cute things, like my buddy, with whom I'll likely talk later today. Zero likes. With rare exceptions.


It's because of who I am and what I do and that everyone knows that this other person stands apart from everyone else and thus must be treated differently, and produces feelings in these other people that cause them to treat him as they wouldn't anyone else, no matter what we're talking about--even something as simple as hitting that like button on social media.


I am the only person in the world who produces this result. You would think it's impossible. I would have once, too. But I am living this. And one could also just take a look at my Facebook feed. This isn't about Facebook--Facebook is just a microcosmic representation of what is the larger issue, the massive problem, perhaps the greatest problem for me to solve. It is the problem of greatness. The prison of greatness. Thoreau said that the public demands an average person. That's who the public wants to support and get behind. He said that the last thing people want is a person of greatness. Then he qualified it by saying, not even a person of absolute greatness. Someone others should strive to be in all areas.


And it's with people who like me, too. I just published two pretty big Beatles things. I put both those links up and plenty of people who like the Beatles and who think I'm such and such as a writer, saw those things, and not one of them hit that like button. It's because of me.


But sometimes there will be something like what I'm about to describe and though it's not, as I said, a big thing in and of itself, what it represents is. I could put the screenshot in, but I don't need to do that in this case.


I put up a photo of myself after working out on Saturday. I was wet as a dog that had taken to a pond. I use these photos to chart my fitness. Keep periodic tabs on myself. My fitness is important to what I do and what I must endure right now. It's important anyway. I've had heart issues in the past and I was going down a dangerous path regarding my cardiac health. I could have so easily given in and I could so easily give in any given day. But I fight harder. I try harder.


That should be inspiration to people. The truth is, it often just makes people hate me more. It's the contrast between me and them. People don't like the contrast. They can not mind the contrast later, when the official stamps have been applied--the big labels--and absorbed into the public record of how things are. It's silly, though, to be threatened by me as a writer. This person is something else. They're not your peer or in the pool with you. No one is expecting you to do what he can do. There are plenty of other people--there are millions--like that for you.


I have a friend. And he'll say to me, sometimes, when I'm seeing things so fast and he's taking time to put matters together, that he's not like me. That no one is. That no one can keep up with my mind. He's just sort of tapping the brakes a little. He's not threatened by this. Nor is it anything I hold over him. It's just how it is. It's like it's separate from us and our friendship. Like one of us being taller than the other. Having my mind isn't something I chose to do to him to hurt him or make him feel bad. Which is how many other people take it, and how just about everyone in publishing does.


Then it's like they're seeking revenge for things I didn't do to them, but instead because I have this mind and these abilities that they don't. Abilities I've spent every second of my life working to develop. They don't like that either, but it's the evidence of those abilities that they hate the most. Then you can throw in all the other things, too. Even appearance and fitness. All of the effort, the commitment, the lack of stopping. The guy just keeps going. No matter what. And people often have a hard time just starting anything at all.


Anyway, these were the words I posted along with the photo:


It's difficult to quantify how wet I am right now. Walked ten miles out to Boston College today in this very soupy weather and then ran the 130 stairs there--they don't call it the Heights for nothing--twelve times.


And along comes someone who just can't help themselves. They won't ever hit that like button, won't have a positive comment, but they're crouching in the shadows, following along, hope to be able to score some cut against the person on the different level.


In this example, said person says they don't want to get canceled, but I should change that first period to a comma and then they went on some more as if they were my writing guru for my social media posting.


Fine. Whatever. If that's who you are and what you want to be, you have an empty life and one should have a degree of pity for such a person. But when that person screws up their courage--and very likely has that extra drink--and makes their comment about the grammar in a Facebook post of mine, what are you supposed to think then? And when they're completely wrong, too, and reveal that despite calling themselves a writer--sure--they have no idea about the basic usage of periods and commas work, nor how sentences work? If you're going to try something like this, you have to get it right. It works less well--your passive aggressive attempt to pick away at someone--if you end up looking dumb. There was also a poor attempt at the use of a dash in her comment that was its own grammatical abomination, misuse of quotations marks, and improper usage of the word "modifying."


This is not a good way to be. We say that often in these pages, but there's a reason for that: People would be wise to ask themselves, "Is this a good way to be, or is it not a good way to be?" Then it starts to become automatic--being a good way, that is. It's obviously an ignorant and clueless way to be as pertains to the matter the person purports to be wanting to correct--which is, of course, a lie; they're trying to have a go--but it's just not how you want to be as a person.


But honestly: How could you not know, even as one of these millions of people who call themselves a writer for no reason, what's correct and wouldn't be correct here?


And I wonder what I'm supposed to do. Be like, "Thanks. I totally understand what you were up to, but couldn't you at least know how basic grammar works and make sure you're right if you're going to do this?" That would be a fun conversation. Leave the idiotic statement in place to stick out as the only comment there is, for the reasons detailed above? Remove it and remove the person because why would you even grant them this low-level access to you after they've revealed true colors and motives?


I keep all sorts of people on Facebook for all sorts of reasons. Often because they're straight scum. Lorin Stein, for instance. And Sadie Stein. They can think, Is he going to put something up about me for all my cronies to see on Facebook? Yeah, he might. You just have to take it. Take this guy popping you wherever he pops you. Because what else are you going to do? It's all true. And there's so much that's even worse than what I've put out there thus far. They leave me there because they want to be able to monitor what I might be doing. I don't know why, though, if you're Lorin Stein, who will likely never work again. Nor should he. If you did what he did, you'd just have to accept that. (A fresh Lorin Stein post will be coming soon. I've unearthed quite the doozy document, in the creepy, predatory man's own creepy, predatory words, no less.)


The thing that primarily depresses me here--I would think it goes without saying--is that people don't even know what a sentence is. This is someone who calls themselves a writer and they don't know. I see a form of "writing" all the time where someone has a thought, and they just rope in a second thought, a third, sometimes with commas, sometimes without any, where you're going along, things just stop, a period should be put in before things just start up again, but nah, you get a comma or nothing instead.


Another thing: It's not my job or responsibility to shelter anyone or provide them safe haven in their stupidity, their sexism, racism, bigotry, discrimination, envy, when they're up to no good, their attempts at fuckery, in their cronyism, nepotism, when they're raping people, stealing, plagiarizing, or in their incompetence, blackballing, anger issues, lying, whatever it may be. And if someone thinks such and such is a small thing, that small thing often speaks to much bigger things, and can be useful as an example in the understanding of those larger themes.



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