Hello, dear readers! Welcome back to my fantastic, well-loved, super-popular blog! I know, I know—you’re all amazed to hear from me every two weeks, (sometimes longer, depending on my current work ethic,) and to be given advice, through my lens of humor, irrational outrage, and amazing levels of fantastic humility and grace. I’ve got a long one for you; this time with pictures! Normally, I’d say that I’m coming down from my Golden Pedestal—or some self-aggrandizing variation thereof—but, this time I feel like I was almost knocked from my pedestal before I got the chance to descend from its magnificence! See, I was thrown for a loop a few days ago, by falling into a classic trap which I normally try not to step into:
Debating politics.
Oh my Good Imaginary Lord, do I hate debating politics. Why? Because I’m not particularly good at it. Not to say that I can’t form a sound argument for my opinion; you all know that I can discuss my side of something until I’m relatively blue in the face. But, the trap I stepped into involved a far more insidious set of cast-iron mechanical teeth than I realized:
…Debating politics on the internet.
“YOU FOOL!” I can hear some of you screaming right now. “YOU DAMNED, DAMNED, INCREDIBLY GOOD-LOOKING FOOL! DON’T YOU KNOW THE DANGERS OF ARGUING ON THE INTERNET?! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN AMBUSHED BY AN IDIOT, OR SOMETHING! THEY’RE ALL OVER THE INTERNET, LAYING IN WAIT!”
Yes, dear readers, I do. It’s just that—
“…AND YOU WERE DOING IT ABOUT POLITICS?! ONE OF YOUR LEAST FAVORITE SUBJECTS?”
Yes, yes. I realize my mistake, in hindsight, but—
“IT’S ONE OF THE BIGGEST HOT-BUTTON SUBJECTS ON THE ENTIRE FUCKING PLANET, YOU GODDAMNED CHARMING, ENIGMATIC, YET UTTERLY CAPTIVATING FOOL! …AND YOU’RE BAD AT IT!“
Okay! I get it! And you’re right about all of those things. But if I could finish talking…?
“…FINE.”
Thank you. Now, as I was saying, I got into a political argument online the other night. It was something I don’t normally do, I never enjoy, and typically try to avoid. But in my defense, it didn’t start out as a political argument; and after thinking about it, I don’t think it really ended as one, either.
I’m going to cover up all the screen names used, (even mine,) but it all started with a meme being passed around by one of my Facebook acquaintances. The annoying meme in question was this:
Holy shit— look at those smiling, oblivious little cartoon schmucks. Now, I’d seen this meme make the rounds before. It wasn’t new, but it was full of so much blissful ignorance and condescension that I felt the need to construct a well-worded, and subtle critique. After seeing what four other internet randos had to say before me, I measured my words carefully, and wound up with this delicate turn of phrase:
Ah yes—perfectly crafted nuance. Drink in the subtlety, people.
Now, there’s a lot to unpack in that screenshot: I can’t tell if Rando #1 is being sarcastic, claiming the idea posted in this meme is pure fantasy, but I’m going to assume that they are. (The alternative being that she’s one of those senile old people who use internet comment sections to share completely unrelated messages.)
Rando #2’s message seems a little more direct, but we can’t really tell if they’re a bitter Trump supporter, or if they are simply pointing out the truth; that being an openly recognized Trump voter has been tainted by stigma. (…Because honestly, it really has.)
Rando #3’s posted quite a slice of genius here: They could be siding with anyone right now. The Original Poster, the previous message from Rando #2, (either version of it,) or the possibly sarcastic claims from Rando #1.
Then, Rando #4 swooped in like a goddamned hero, and laid out their opinion in plain text: Bob is stupid, but entitled to being an idiot with an opinion. (Like so many of us are.)
After that, you have my opinion, which has all the subtlety and delicacy you’ve come to expect from the narcissist who once posted about a dick bicycle, just to make an educational point. (I regret nothing.)
At this point, after I’ve complained about something I think is stupid, my online friends usually reply with, “Oh, Gideon! You are a scamp!” or some other variation of amused dismissal of my annoyance. Then, I sit back, watch people click their various emojis (emojii?) of choice, and then I get spammed with notifications on how someone reacted to my statement for approximately an hour or so before we’ve all moved on with our lives.
This time, however, was one of those moments when someone actually had a counterpoint of their own to make. In this case, the OP followed up my criticism with this:
So, you can sort of see where she’s coming from, but let’s break this one down. The OP opens with “nope,” in disagreement with me—so you already know she’s clearly wrong, and I am clearly right—and then follows it up with:
“This implies exactly what it says.”
Now, at the time, I didn’t have the heart (or enough interest) to explain to her that “implying exactly what it says” isn’t how implying works in any way whatsoever; so I moved on to her next point:
“Politics is not my being. Political stances are not solely how the solely identify myself…”
Grammatically odd, but fair point. Then she went on to add:
“I certainly hope that ya not how everyone else does too but do they do..ok.”
Um… okay?
Now, at first, I assumed the “not solely how the solely identify myself” part was simply a typo or some kind of auto-correct slip-up; but the last bit made me suspect that perhaps this was a case of drinking and typing—we may never know. Regardless, I was able to infer what she was trying to say.
Author’s Loose Translation: “I don’t judge my friends on their opinions or beliefs, and I hope nobody else does either, but if they do, okay.”
Now, surely, that was that. I’d made my point, she’d made her counterpoint; end-o-discussion. So, I went back to being fantastic, and doing amazing things, and being the wonderful, devastatingly handsome, High-Brow Book Scientist, (patent pending,) that you all love and adore.
That is, until OP’s husband chimed in with something I can only describe as “hilariously, idiotically perfect.” This glorious gem of wisdom was:
…HOW PERFECT IS THIS STATEMENT?
I couldn’t have received a better follow-up to the OP’s reply to my point of view—that we shouldn’t judge people on their opinions—than this. I’m sure you folks are wondering why this delights me so much, and are asking yourselves, “Why, Gideon? Why would you enjoy something that tells you how bad you are?”
I’ll tell you how: In one fell swoop, her husband both defended and ruined his wife’s point, pissed on the entire sentiment of that stupid “don’t judge people based on their opinions” meme which started the whole thing, and reinforced my own point of view—and this masterful dipshit did it in six words.
I want you guys to think about that: Six words. I would kill for succinctness like this.
This six-word post was almost artful in its sheer idiocy. On top of that, it goes against everything I’ve ever taught anyone about me. (I mean, yeah- I’m a horrible person; but I’m also the best, and everyone here knows it, right? Right.) Now, I don’t know what he was trying to accomplish with this post; he did all my work for me. If he was trying to tear me down or make me feel bad, he failed in that respect, too.
Author’s Note: Come on— it’s me. If something was going to penetrate my invincible ego, it wasn’t going to be this moron, spouting off things I’ve already told you about myself, now was it? Of course not. Don’t be silly.
So I thought, “Maybe my original complaint was a little too complain-y. Perhaps it came off angrier than I intended.” So, in an effort to clarify my point, I stepped right into the trap, and let it snap its ferrous jaws around the meat of my ankle without even realizing it.
In my defense, my reply is a little long-winded. (Like I said, I lack six-word precision.) It’s how my writing tends to be when I think I’m making a point. Please excuse the rough cut-and-paste of my screenshots; I’ve also color-coded the censoring so you know who I’m talking to, without revealing any names:
Now, at this point, I’m at what… six very short paragraphs, and four spaced-for-emphasis sentences? (I couldn’t figure out how to type bullet points into what I was saying at the time.) I end my point with another bit of opinion about fictional “Bob” from the meme:
At this point, I was thinking, “Boom. Mic drop.” I’d shown Hubby that he was a hypocrite, elaborated on why I felt the way I did about the meme, and threw a “take that” at fictional Bob, even. Sure, it was an opinion, and there were always going to be (silly and incorrect) people who disagreed with it, but my political opinions weren’t really supposed to be the focus here. I was anti-meme; I didn’t believe that we should ignorantly stay friends with people without taking their views into account, or using their beliefs as a measure of who they are as a person.
People judge me on my beliefs all the time: My narcissism, sexual choices, penchant for inappropriate jokes, political opinions, moral choices, venomous hatred of Pippi Longstocking, and the fact that I laugh at the commercials showing me physically disfigured kids from third-world countries who need help; because their plights are deeply tragic, but their mangled faces are so hilariously goofy-looking.
Author’s Note: I don’t particularly like that last bit about myself, but it’s still a factor people take into consideration about me.
Like OP’s hubby says: I’m the worst.
So, after putting that reply up, I went back to being an amazing, lovable person despite my shortcomings—which I refuse to see as negatives, because I’m great—and continued on with my day.
A short time later, I saw a notification that Hubby had replied to my post.
“Here comes the rebuttal,” I said to myself, with a weary, ‘I’m-already-sick-of-this-discussion’ sigh. “..Now he’ll explain why he disagrees with what I’m saying, or clarify his obviously wrong opinion that I’m the worst, I’m guessing.”
I didn’t get quite what I was expecting, but I was absolutely NOT disappointed. His masterfully crafted retort was:
At no point that day did I expect to read the words “Gideon’s face-anus,” (which was truly great,) but Hubby literally confessed that he had no interest in reading my point. How do you fight something like this?
I had a very respected teacher back when I was in school who taught me something so important, I’ve never forgotten it, and I’ve carried it with me throughout my entire adult life, like a personal mantra:
“Ignorance is curable, stupid is forever.”
Basically, if you lack knowledge, you can battle ignorance with education or information; but if someone is stupid, they lack intelligence, and that can’t be fixed.
In this case, however, there’s a complete ignorance at work here that clearly couldn’t be cured, because it’s willful, childish ignorance. Instead of open discussion of conflicting opinions about the meme in question, he was blindly firing from the hip directly at me, instead of attacking my opinion, or my point. I will say this: his reply was actually very informative. Again, there’s A LOT to unpack, so I’m just going to list it out this time.
When I broke it down, here’s what I learned:
- I have a face-anus, and nobody has told me about it at any point during my time on this Earth. (I assume it was to save me from embarrassment.)
- Hubby thinks reading 12 short one-or-two sentence paragraphs is tantamount to 900 paragraphs.
- Learning other people’s opinions by reading is a complete waste of time. (I assume this extends to all forms of reading, not just other people’s opinions.)
- My “face-anus” spews literal shit; not figurative shit. How I’m not constantly doing laundry, I have no idea.
- Hubby does not know what “literal” means.
- Hubby feels the need to puff his chest and defend his wife’s honor for some reason, over a meme I simply don’t agree with.
- Hubby seems to think I need to be reminded that they’re married for some reason.
- Hubby’s chock full of toxic masculinity, and believes he commands who should and shouldn’t comment on his wife’s posts. (At the time of this writing, she’s the one who is actually on my friends list, remember.)
- I have NO IDEA what “Kawai OWO hentai porn” is.
- I have no idea if I’d jack off to it if I did know what it was. I mean… probably, but I can’t say for certain with the information provided, and I’ve learned long ago not to randomly Google search ANYTHING with the word “hentai” in it.
- Hubby TOTALLY knows what “Kawai OWO hentai porn” is, and I’d rather not find out how. I’d also prefer never to see his Google search history. (Or would I?)
- Hubby believes my life is useless, because I have opinions and the ability to write them out and express them.
At this point, I was just going to drop it and go on with my life. If he’s not even going to read my NINE HUNDRED PARAGRAPH MANIFESTO, (like it’s War and Peace, or something,) then there’s really nothing more I can say. I made my point, he fought back at me personally, to the best of his third grade ability. Nobody won, and that was it.
Author’s Note: I totally won, and we all know it. I’m the super-mature, undisputed champion of everything.
But then—mere minutes later—someone stepped up to the arcade machine of my life, and slapped in a couple of quarters:
MY POINT GETS MADE FOR ME A SECOND TIME!
Wow. Just… wow. Some complete stranger from out of nowhere popped in, and Stranger, like Hubby, literally read nothing I had to say, and wanted to comment on it. I’m not sure why they think that’s a good way to formulate a counter-point, but I was completely mind-blown that two idiots were proving my point for me, back-to-back, without realizing it.
I wasn’t even mad at Stranger; how could I be? He was completely off-base, so his entire point was based on ignorance, wrong assumptions, and completely missing the point. He also gave the most inaccurate, uninformed description of me that I think anyone has ever made, based off of nothing whatsoever. It’s hilariously wrong.
I don’t normally feel the need to defend my greatness to uninformed strangers, but let’s make a few important corrections:
- I do go outside. (I like outside. I deliberately moved here because I like it so much.)
- I don’t watch Fox News, and if I were regurgitating it, my statements wouldn’t be vehemently anti-Trump.
- I don’t actively look for things to offend me, but I also don’t blindly, automatically like everyone and everything; I’m just not quiet about it when I don’t agree with something.
- I do tend to overstate my opinion; I can agree with that.
- People love my rants, thank you very much.
- If people didn’t care about my opinions, they wouldn’t be here reading this blog, yet again. (…Or would you? I honestly have no idea what kind of twisted thinking brings you back here, my lovely Gidsciples.)
- He thinks my thoughts are unoriginal, which is odd to say, since I’m demonstrably outnumbered here by completely opposing opinions. I’m literally thinking differently than both people attacking me personally right now.
- He thinks I’m senile and old, and that I drink beer in my yard with the other old people in my neighborhood.
WAIT— FUCKING WHAT!?
Okay, now I’m pissed! I will have you know, sir, that I don’t care for beer—I like my lightweight drinks fruity and publicly embarrassing to my girlfriend! And for your information, I hang out and stare creepily at my neighbors from a balcony, like a NORMAL person! How dare you—you know what? It’s fine. I’m cool. Whatever.
Anyway; after I took a breath, I wrote up a comment to him too— I mean, why not? My leg was already mangled in the trap anyway:
Thankfully, this is where the idiocy ended for now; I’ll never know if I made my point or not, (or if my final statement made them realize they were negating the intention of the meme I’m against,) but I did eventually have one person point out their disagreement with me in a rational way, and I even conceded that I could see their point of view, even if I didn’t agree with it.
I mean, they disagree with me— they’re obviously WRONG.
I want to wrap this up with some kind of lesson; like a teachable moment beyond “Arguing On The Internet Is An Exercise In Futility,” but everyone already knows that, and even the best of us still manage to step right into that rusty ol’ trap anyway. I will say this, however: This utterly bizarre interaction couldn’t have been a more perfect example of why I don’t like to debate politics— online or anywhere else. There are many, many people who should be out there debating politics, (not me,) and I definitely encourage them to do so.
None of those people are in this story anywhere.
Until next time, my faithful followers— I remain your amazing, handsome, eternally super-humble, High-Brow Book Scientist, (patent pending,) whose lovable ego remains completely intact; even against a salvo of stuff like THIS.
…Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to clean up in here; my office is FULL of the “literal shit” falling out of the face-anus on my stupid cunt face.
The part that hurts the most is the assumption that I watch Fox News. No wait—it’s the bear trap on my leg; that hurts more. …Does anyone know how to open one of these fucking things, or should I just start gnawing at my own ankle?