It seems random, and I can never count on it happening, but sometimes it goes the right way. For context, I drink a lot of whiskey when I’m watching YouTube, and possibly Facebook, but unlikely. The whiskey is likely, the Fartbook is not. Heh heh. Fartbook. A Beavis inspired invention.
People who present poorly reduced information, and subsequently draw stupid conclusions in a YT video are enraging to me. You did all that work, and the result was, this? Hot mess?
So, I immediately start banging away on the keyboard. When I am drinking and it’s late at night, I can be mean and verbally insensitive to random strangers on the internet. They never intended to offend me, but here we are.
Vitriol, I think they call it. Bile and digestive. You can figure it out with your therapist, because mine totally gave up on me immediately after meeting me for the first time. The coward. She said she was up to the task, no challenge too great, it’s right there on her business card. Taps out the moment she meets me. It’s Dr. Marvin Monroe all over again.
Okay, so I leave unhinged comments on YouTube. Everyone does that. Except, the next day, I reread my comments, and suppose that maybe I am being too harsh of a critic. It’s not their fault they have cancer, just because they are vegan, and I don’t know very much about their mother, so I shouldn’t assert a certain level of Biblical intimacy. Right?
Inevitably, I delete my overly aggressive comments and opinions, yet I feel like I’m somehow depriving the rest of the world the benefit of my wisdom and sarcasm. My brain’s sagacity knows no satiety, and here I am deleting my expletive filled comments that the YouTube software cautioned me not to post because of various insults and slurs.
But, every once in a while, when I visit the comment section, there it is. It’s like the community is saying to me, “Hey. We’ve got this one.” It’s so wonderful knowing that I can relax, and humanity will not end here and now.
They also serve those who can barely stand and don’t like to wait. Sometimes, inbred halfwits get it right. Even if they write code for Google during the day.
Maybe if I unfriend enough “people” on Facebook I will start to feel better. Not actually better, but Hemingway better.
—DG
Inside Doug's Head 