You know, I’ve been blogging for a bit over four years now. (Crap, I missed my blogiversary — March 31! NO ONE GOT ME ANYTHING. You all suck. And so do I, for that matter.)
Anyway, as I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself, I’ve been blogging for more than four years. That makes me positively ancient by blog standards, and over that time I’ve collected most of the honor badges a blogger can collect. I’ve been Instalanched a few times, I’ve been involved in several blog-wars (both collectively, through Wizbang and individually), I’ve been quoted in several mainstream media outlets (including Doonesbury’s web site!), interviewed once by a California columnist, and so on, but there has been one elusive accolade that has eluded me:
The veiled threat.
That is, until now.
haha i laugh at your post when i read it. Hmmm you need to wake up and smell the fresh coffee my young unintelligent friend. First of all you got to get it straight with China’s so called “tyrant” stuff. If there wasn’t a so called “tyrant”, China wouldn’t be the next best economic and powerful country in the world. Also, in your small brain lack of knowledge brain, i hope you understand that Tibet is part of China and if China didn’t give them money or keep them under control, they be a fucking poor ass little town that has no money, shelter, food, ext. I hope you stop making posts and remarks about China and just shut your mouth before someone else does it for you.
When I was much younger, I worked in a retail job. (Thank heavens I’m largely beyond that now.) One day, we had a drunk guy attempt to steal a fairly expensive item. She went to call the cops and told me to lock the door. I went up and twisted the knob, then leaned my shoulder against it — the guy was NOT leaving unless he physically moved me.
He was a bit belligerent when it was clear that simply putting down the item would not suffice to get him off the hook.
“Lemme outta here.”
“Nope. Boss said to keep the door locked.”
“Am I gonna have to move you to get outta here?”
“You know, kid, I could probably kill you with my bare hands.”
I paused for a second, then nodded. “Probably.”
“You gonna let me go?”
I didn’t argue with the guy, I didn’t try to escalate the confrontation. I just passively refused to move, to let him leave. And when the cops showed up, then I unlocked the door and they hauled him off.
The secret to my courage then was simple: his threat had no credibility. I had no life, so threatening me with death didn’t really matter to me. Like I’ve quoted numerous times, “freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.” Or, if you prefer Monty Python over Kris Kristofferson, “You know, you come from nothing – you’re going back to nothing.
What have you lost? Nothing!”
Today, things are a little different. I’m in my 40s, not my 20s. But I still have no life. So when this dipshit from California (originating IP: 220.127.116.11, e-mail “[email protected]”) says “I hope you stop making posts and remarks about China and just shut your mouth before someone else does it for you,” I have to laugh.
First up, punk,I’m protected by three thousand miles and a nom de plume. Even if you were to get plane fare from Mommy and/or Daddy (presuming she has narrowed down the sperm donor who spawned you), you’d still have to pick me out of a city of about 12,000 people. (That’s another great New Hampshire story — how the town of Lebanon came be a “city.” But I’ll save that one for another time.)
I most likely don’t have the courage of that anonymous guy (who most likely was brutally murdered almost 20 years ago), but flipping the figurative bird to “John” doesn’t require very much in the line of guts — and I can muster that fairly easily.
So bring it on, punk. Hell, I’ll make it easy for you. Drop me a comment or an e-mail (feel free to use the tips address in the right sidebar) telling me when you’ll be by Lebanon, New Hampshire, and I’ll cheerfully meet you in a nice, public place. (As the host, I’ll pick the time and place, as you most likely don’t know the lay of the land, but rest assured I’ll make sure it’s easily found.) I’ll face you, man-to-man (or, more likely, blogger to asshole) and let you elaborate on your points to me face-to-face.
In the words of my hero in situations like this, “let’s rock.”