The Earth and Why

Sometimes I hate people. Not all of them, all at once, but certain kinds of people.

I was thinking about writing a letter to someone, because I'm really incredibly tired of them mocking my best friend. (I decided against it. Not worth my time.) Oh, they weren't outright mocking her, but their reaction to something she posted was so completely inappropriate and it really stepped over the line into threats. I'm so disgusted, I feel like throwing up.

First, this person overracted to a cartoon, one that my friend posted. Let's call this person Jane. Jane decided, that since it was her birthday, that whatever everyone in the world wrote that day was about her. What didn't help is that the cartoon had a birthday theme. The thing is, it had nothing to with Jane. Really. Let me explain...

My friend has a long and colorful history with belching. And not just some little girly belch, that you cover up with your hand while "tee-hee"ing and say "Excuse me" to. No, these were belches of epic proportions, ones that rattled windows...and my mother's nerves. I really felt sorry for my mom, who grew up in house that you weren't allowed to fart in unless you were in the bathroom, to have to deal my friend's belches. And when we were kids (I've known her for...oh, god...for almost twenty years!), it was particularily obnoxious. (Then again, who isn't obnoxious when they're younger?) So one weekend, around the time when we were, oh...let me think...10/11/12 (maybe?), when my family went to our timeshare/resort/scam of the month, my friend came along with us. And boy, was my mother pissed at her constant belching. (I know where I got the Look of Death, Laser-beam Style from, it must be a genetic thing.) Finally, my mother, having endured a weekend of this, looked at her, and said, "If you don't cut that out, I'm gonna hit you over the head with the frying pan." (My mother never would actually do such a thing. Instead, you get the Laser Beam Look of Death, which was just as effective.) So what did my friend absolutely have to do? You guessed it. Another awe-inspiring belch, one that I'm sure people in other campers across the park heard. My mother just looked her with seething frustration, and the Death Look claimed another vitcim. To be fair, I really, really tried not to laugh. From then on, we had the running joke about the infamous belches and frying pans ("She's coming over. Should I hide the frying pans?").

Fast forward to years later. For days, I rambled on to my boyfriend about how he had to meet my friend. I told him that her belches would put most of his dorm floor to shame...and she was a girl. (Hehehehe. Those engineering types, they have nothin' on my friend! I must have been the only girl clearly unimpressed with the finest belches from the best and brightest male students of MSOE). So we were sitting around at my house, my mom sitting on the couch, my boyfriend in a chair, my friend at the other end of the couch. We fed her all the warm (I think it was warm, but I could be wrong) Sprite, and my mom looked at us suspiciously. And then my friend let out The Belch of Belches, a belch like no other; one that poets would later describe as "magnificent in its awful and disgusting glory"; one that historians would include in their lists of the "10 Wonders of the Post Modern World"; one that, as the last chords of it slowly echoed away, literally rattled the windows of the curio cabinets in our dining room, the delicate wine glasses still trembling in awe. The look on my boyfriend's face was priceless. You could tell that he never had encountered such a beautiful creature before this. He fell out of his chair in both shock and surprise. He was completely awed by that ferocious work of art.

What was my mom's reaction? "Don't make me get the frying pan." Along with the Death Look.

It's not that Jane took the cartoon in the wrong way. It's that she took a private joke between longtime friends and twisted into some horrible alterior motive against her. If she had wanted to know what the meaning behind it was, she could have asked in the comments. I certainly would have explained it to her. But instead, she twisted it around, selfishly assinging motives to my friend that clearly weren't there. But that doesn't piss me off. People do that all the time. Misunderstandings happen. And sometimes, people just get an idea in their heads and, even when confronted with actual evidence to the contrary, run with it as if it's gospel truth. It annoys me, but I can't be responsible for everyone's thought (or lack thereof) processes. What really pisses me off is that some little rat had the audacity to post about "angry lesbians" (Not a dig? No, it is, but that's another post. You are a syncophant for the patriarchy, and do not deserve any respect whatsoever if you dare say that) and how such a loooooser my friend is in a public blog, seen by a lot of people. That's over the line. Put it in your own blog, if you want to. Say it over the phone. But in a comment thread, where it's glaringly out of place in relation to the post? Really, it sticks out like a sore thumb among the other comments. And then, of all things, to write "What's her last name?". That is a threat. In the world of the Internets, where most people want to be anonymous, that is a threat. Taken in context, it's absolutely hostile. And that, dear friends, is what pisses me off. That some little rat is threatening somone over the motives of posting a fucking cartoon that someone found funny. I don't care if she had no intention of ever doing anything, a threat is still a threat. And it pisses me off. My friend did nothing to this little rat, and she retaliated by threatening her:

Wow, she is being a bitch. That was a slap in the face. Dont let it bother you though. She's an angry lesbian, (the lesbian part is not a dig, just the angry part) almost 30, living at home, and has all of 2 friends on her xanga (and in real life?). Who cares what she thinks. She is taking out her issues on you. Im proud of you. I couldnt sit in the sidelines and read that shit. What is her last name?

(Of course, when my friend politely asked her to stop on the rat's blog, she proceeded to delete every single comment that my friend made. Oh, and this rat, in any conversation of my friend, would preface it with "fucking bitch". As in, "Oh that fucking bitch [my friend's name], ..." or "Well, why don't you chat with so-and-so about the weather, [other stuff], how much of a fucking bitch [my friend] is....". Was my friend at times a fucking bitch? By her own admission, yes. The truth is, is that my friend is not a Fucking Bitch. At times, yeah. But not always. And that pretty much describes a lot of people. I am, however, a loud and proud card-carrying three-star member of the Fucking Bitch Club. So I know my friend's not a Fucking Bitch. The rat's not a member either; to earn your ranking, you have to express opinions that make people -- men and women -- call you an "angry lesbian", no matter your sexual preference. I can only hope to aspire to Hillary Clinton's four-star rating, the highest honor you can recieve. But I digress. The lapdogness of this rat is truly amazing. One has to wonder if she was, oh, maaaaybe, jealous of my friend? Putting stuff into people's heads by repetition? Are you pondering what I'm pondering?)

I would not want that person as a friend. In fact, I have known people like this. They are nice to you until they don't like you anymore. And they'll come up with some of the dumbest justifications to hate you. Because if they don't like you, they hate you with a bottomless pit of seething hatred. They say one thing, profess to never do something like that, but then they go ahead and do it. Where do I know people like that from? Ah, the coffeeshop. Yes, the same coffeeshop with The Artist, The Texan (who's now The Gay Texan), and The Writer. Scary Eyes and Creepy Girl. There was also the self-righteous pompous ass who felt threatened by two sixteen year olds talking to her 27 year old boyfriend. God, she had a lot of people who worshipped the ground that she walked on. And it took very little for her to hate someone. You could just look at her wrong, or say "Hi" to her boyfriend, and she would get pissed at you. No, wait; not pissed at you, she hated you. The shit she said and did to people she didn't like was amazing.

There was a girl that would hang around. One day, she was sitting at their table. She made the mistake of picking up The Bitch's book, looking at it, and putting it down. She also laughed at a comment The Bitch's boyfriend made. (I never really found anything he said to be funny, but apparently, that was just me.) It didn't matter that The Bitch had laughed at the comment too, nor did it matter that The Bitch was always going through your things. But because that girl did it, OH MY FUCKING GOD, WHAT A SELF CENTERED BOYFRIEND STEALING WHORE she was. I'm not kidding you, that was what was said. Then, she proceeded to tell everyone how much of a boyfriend stealing whore this girl was, and not only that, told total strangers (who had no clue that the girl existed) that they shouldn't talk to her. It was so bad, that The Bitch threatened to get a restraining order against this girl. The Bitch tried to get her kicked out of the coffeeshop permanantly. The thing is, the girl didn't DO anything to her. The girl was just trying to be friendly. I saw this happening, and I knew I did not want to be friends with The Bitch. In fact, a former friend of hers came up to talk to me (she had been The Bitch's best friend, and when she didn't like her anymore, proceeded to broadcast to anyone in earshot -- a full city block, mind you -- that she was a whore and a bitch), and we had a pleasant conversation that revolved around all of the lies that The Bitch was spreading about her former friend. "I know that [The Bitch] is saying all of this stuff about me, and I don't really care for the most part. I only want a few people to know the truth." And I was one of those people. Why? Because I didn't worship the ground The Bitch walked on. And I wasn't going to be her friend out of fear that she would do that to me. I kept a distance because I didn't want to be dragged into such a vile, repugnant pile of waste, meaningless and senseless cruelity, all for The Bitch's approval. I had better things to do. I think the thing that really disgusted me was the fact that when the girl (the boyfriend stealing whore) was raped, it wasn't even 24 hours before they were telling every single in person in the coffeeshop that she was a liar and a whore. They were yelling it in front of the shop, at the top of their lungs. I'm not kidding about this either.

Which brings me back to the rat. Granted, not everyone of this genre is like The Bitch, but the potential for such things to get to that point is HUGE. And it starts with something made up out of nothing. It's not enough to make fun of someone; oh, no, they have to be destroyed. The rat can tell whatever lies she wants to herself to placate the small shred of whatever resembles her conscience, but it doesn't fool me. One look at her blog, and I see shades of The Bitch. The people who worshipped The Bitch? They were varying degrees of the same thing. So yes, she is a rat, of the same type of people who swim in a cesspool of cruelty, condemned to only be happy if they get their way all of the time, and burdened by the many imaginary enemies that they must anhilate to make their planet a perfect, happy furry puppy place with rainbows and unicorns.

I am not a violent person. But these people will provoke you to the point of violence. They are insanely jealous people who, once they don't like you, will set out to destroy you. I hope that the rat wouldn't do that to Jane, if it ever came to that. I would hate to see a seedling struggling to grow get cruelly yanked out of the ground because someone didn't like the fact that it was there.

[Updates]: Turned on the comments, because if asshats comment, well, I can delete or ban them. Hopefully, they won't see this, or comment, for the reason that THIS IS A PRIVATE CONVERSATION between two friends, and doesn't involve them at all. THIS IS NOT MEANT FOR YOU AT ALL. And if you do comment, all I have to say is this: Why? Why are you commenting on something that's PRIVATE? GO AWAY. This site is meant for the whole 3 people who are my friends, or someone who totally is in no way, even tangentally, connected to me. There is no inbetween here. That said, for my friend, you can liken the rat to this person: Helaine Olen, who wrote some scathing and untrue things about this person, only to be reprimanded of such patriarchial behavior. Real life, in your fucking face, baby, kinda stuff. Luvs~~