The More You Ignore Me (5 page)

When my revolutionary compatriots and I find a couple clearly unprepared for such tasks (Nico and Charli, in this case), we endeavor to be cruel, yes, but cruel to be kind with our “comments.” Have we grown so sensitive that we can't stand the truth delivered with such style?

Surely not! Truth and beauty, my dear!

Let's not forget them. I await your response.

April 28, 2009 2:01AM

linksys181: I see by your continued silence, dear Emma_1, that we have perhaps gone too far in this initial conversionary tactic and stunned you into (further) dumbness.

I apologize if my remarks offend your delicate sensibility, but, alas, the truth is not delicate!

I was not spared.

DO NOT LOOK AWAY
!!!!

FACE THE TRUTH
!!!!!!

Readers, a blog “encourages” discussion, does it not?

Without comments, a weblog is merely a monologue, correct?

And I have, as you can see, discussed.

I have commented.

I have put forth my views, my warnings, my style, my beliefs, my visions of the future, and despite the efforts of this wretched Chris Novtalis to block me, I believe we have had a discussion.

Would it surprise you to know that after the exchange quoted above I received my first “warning” from Chris, the head of his private online neo-Stasi?

It's true, and I admit I was less than surprised since I had revealed quite a bit of his plot to the community.

Oh, it hasn't always been “me” putting forth my views (linksys181 and linksys157 are just two of the many masks I wear).

In fact, no one had discovered my “real” name for quite some time, and I am of course clever enough to cover my “cyber tracks,” so I assumed I could not be traced.

I was able to persist through the resistance and mockery (“Are you really trolling a wedding website?” “
STOP THE MADNESS
,” and so forth) until I was tarnished (again!) and dismissed (again!).

Treachery!

It pains me terribly.

Which is why I am now reaching out to you, dear readers, for I have been blocked, banned, and cast aside like some 19th-century madwoman.

But what concern could any of this possibly be of yours?

I am sorry—a man can go on all night when he is in front of the computer screen.

What a cold light it gives off!

Not flattering to my features in the least, though I dare say I look a robust and vigorous forty-two.

I keep my goatee trim and wash my face with a secret astringent tincture every morning (in due time, my dears, in due time, I may tell you its components), so that even in the silver light of the screen I do not look such a cold fish.

I may, depending on how this goes, even attach a self-portrait for you.

Would you like that?

I daresay you might!

Here!

I am embedding it!

Keep it close to you, saucies!

[
XXXXXXX
]

I have been shunned.

That is what I mean to say.

I wish I could say I'm not used to such treatment, but I have been rejected, ignored, flung aside, and left for dead many times in life.

Oh, you have no idea!

From the very start!

You see, my own father was a navy man, and he had the terrible misfortune to sire me only months before shipping off with the
USS
Maddox
.

Does that name ring a bell?

Or are you also of this idiotic generation that only knows the names of Ke$ha's entourage and not of those woefully mistreated, abused, and perhaps even murdered in the name of freedom for the United States of America?

I love this country.

I do.

I love it with all my heart, but I fear it has gone terribly astray.

It showed a small flicker of hope in the last century, but that hope has been snuffed out, that love has been squandered, and not as it was in my dear father's time, for something we all could believe in, but for baubles and trinkets!

The Indians have their revenge, eh?

We bought this land from them for costume jewelry, and we'll give the soiled remains back because we're so distracted by, what, celebrity “panties”?

Yes.

What a cruel and incomprehensible world this is!

And my case, what I'm presenting to you, is but a meager manifestation of this cruelty and incomprehensibility.

But for that very reason—because it is a miniscule capitulation to idiocy—we must not yield!

Don't look away!

Join me in reclaiming the righteous path!

It is not too late, despite what pernicious logorrhea you may have been subjected to by that ungrateful, small-minded, dime-store Hitler of a moderator Charli has in her employ.

Oh what a fateful day it was when she accepted that scallywag and allowed him to “moderate” her site!

I'm sure he arrived stinking of cologne, glad-handing and flattering the “wedding party,” lulling them into thinking he might, with his modest credentials, youthful zeal, and relation to the groom, help steer their site safely through the perilous waters into a snug harbor.

What a light touch on the wheel that would have required!

The conversations, the ideas, the
esprit de corps
all arrived with me and began thriving, but then he strolled in with his wretched usurping arrogance to ask, “What is your problem?”

All he had to do was make sure someone kept the power on, since I was not just without problem, I had turned his wedding blog into a study in vitality!

On the precipice of real change!

But then the sulphurous bean decided to make everyone “register as family.”

Oh ho!

Isn't that always the first step?

But register we did, “family” or no!

At first, I merely wanted to continue my observation of the wedding's progression, but soon I saw there was no one else brave enough to warn the couple of the dangers lurking in their false marriage bond.

It had to be me, though not because I disapproved of the marriage as such. No, don't take me for one of those men who think no one is good enough for “their” girls.

Those pathetic dolts are laughable. I live in the real world. I am aware. But you see, I am a feminist.

Does it shock you?

From all you've heard, I wouldn't doubt if it did shock you terribly, but it's true!

Of course I am not a feminist in the shrieking harpy sense of the word—I don't burn unmentionables on the post office steps or advocate for conspicuous armpit hair or free tampon dispensers at state parks—rather, I believe women should have the option to refuse the persistent, throbbing needs of men.

Without society judging them ill, women should be able to take up a life free of penetration, a life of chaste contemplation perhaps, of study, or of devotion to service.

The mothering instinct should not be wrung dry and made to sag by birth—don't we already have a population problem?—but allowed to fit snugly into the care of orphans, the elderly, and perhaps aged family members in need of professional and domestic assistance.

Marriage is an unhappy tradition in even the best circumstances, and it need not be unduly perpetuated, especially when it is merely a screen for a dark force to satisfy its oily urge!

This is my credo, and I would (and have!) fought for it outside of my own personal interest.

I know from experience. Am I wrong? Is the divorce rate in this country not astronomical? Statistics would be my second in this duel, if I needed a second.

I do not.

I admit, I am now personally invested in this case, but I hope you see that my
personality
isn't all I have invested.

If I were only to see the personal, I would say that obviously someone needs to care for Charli, fragile thing that she is, and perhaps Nico, the hulking sad sack, is the best she thinks she can do.

That's fine.

But if I could speak to her directly I would say, Sweet child, don't go into this lifelong union
unaware
!

That is all I ask!

Don't unwittingly enter into some disgusting
ménage a trois
with rival brothers without having your consent solicited!

Good God, isn't it obvious what is going on?

I see it all so clearly and remain stunned that I am the only one.

Since Chris had clearly forced Charli to ignore my repeated direct queries to her, I intended to accept my banishment once I imparted to Nico the necessary information about what his brother was up to.

But now, after the blog has been derailed so completely by nattering silliness after my banishment, it has become plain that Nico cannot rightly see his best man's plan to snuff out all purity and light from this world, and so I must take up the cudgel where I can.

Fellow commenters, hear me: this best man is a
beast
man!

I refuse to “let it go.”

Why?

Because as soon as I began my revelatory task on
Charlico.com
/blog, Chris began his efforts to silence me, and such fascist oppression is the first step toward societal breakdown.

Scale does not matter.

Some details: Chris no longer just “warned” me; instead he began to “moderate” my comments, and soon thereafter to delete them before they were ever made public.

Of course!

He couldn't believe someone had uncovered his plot, and so he panicked in the grand tradition of the despot.

Oh, despite what you might think, I'm not writing to enlist you in my cause, as such. No! I wouldn't expect you to be so easily won over, though if even just one of you were to see reason, how close you would be, how
useful
to such a cause you could be!

Listen!

Some otherwise benign afternoon while that vile reed sits in his “moderator” chair, leaning back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face after typing in some banality, you could lean over him—so close that your auburn hair gently touches his temples, and your sparkling green eyes meet his only a few inches away.

He'd smell your shampoo, Garnier Fructis, and his little smirk would turn into something else entirely, a smile of genuine joy at your presence—he might even think of his mother, how she cared for him despite his obvious illegitimate monstrosity, and then you could stab him in the larynx repeatedly with a Rollerball Number 2 pen.

No one would blame you!

Blood would gush over his pathetic skinny tie, his Banana Republic shirt, and his seedy sport coat. He'd start grabbing at his throat, but unable to stop the spurting blood, wide-eyed, mouthing “help,” he'd turn abruptly and fall, bloody neck pulp first, onto his keyboard and expire.

And there you would be, exhilarated, pen in hand, the heroine!

Your peers would, I'm sure, applaud you!

But of course this is a mere fantasy, a joke even!

Not a threat!

I am aware none of this site's readers share an office with Chris.

Surely he is just a hired hand, a “freelancer” who “telecommutes” to
Charlico.com
/blog.

But some of you
do
have contact with him.

I know that to be true from my observations here.

You are not innocent in this crime, though I allow you are “not guilty” in the sense that up until now you perhaps were unaware of all that plagued you.

But let's not dwell on that fact.

I obviously don't need violence to defeat this grunting fetus.

I have my nimble wit and the power of the truth at my fingertips!

He cannot hide from the truth, which is that he has once again attempted to silence the wrong man!