Note to Readers – 1 March 2018
Amended version of the post I published originally on 6 Feb and decided to remove briefly from the public eye as I felt I was too harsh on the Samaritan. Remember this whole current exercise of mine serves, among other purposes, one of promoting fairness and justice among correspondents communicating within the medium of blogging; a fairness and justice peculiarly absent in the morass of some of blogland’s back water comment boxes.
My (slight) edit is entirely on account of the Samaritan who, at his request, I shall not any longer refer to as the “Samaritan”. As John is as good a name as any, and as common as Ms Misery’s preference over “foreign muck”, I’d like to call him Hans. As I don’t wish to confuse either him or my readers, I’ll stick with John. That way he’ll recognize himself, as will Demented Sculptor and Ms Misery (sometimes I wonder whether I shouldn’t have named her better Ms Miserable or “Joy” for short).
6 February – “Crash Landing” (amended 1 March)
Apropos of nothing, just to take my mind of some weirdos in blogland, not least the demented Sculptor and Ms Misery who currently, for all the world to know, is waiting for an engineer to fix her dishwasher. Ms Misery, may I congratulate you on your ability to spell bind your readers, riveting in your often lamented (by yourself) absence of any original thought worth publishing.
Demented Sculptor, John and Ms Misery feed off each other. Occasional fall outs and strong reprimands among themselves not withstanding, language that even soap would do battle with, never mind any Rorschach test screwing up its face, they are as thick as thieves.
“Thick as thieves”. My previous version elaborates on being “thick” but I overdid it, being quite unfair on John’s account. So this section has been shortened. Thick – Each in their own way. In absence of any other evidence I blame the demented Sculptor’s mother for the many hang-ups her son wrestles with. Being dense let’s put at his father’s door. John? Well, pound for pound he probably matches the demented Sculptor in terms of chips on shoulders. However, not slow on the uptake, he did marry a Professor. I too occasionally mkae up for my own shortcomings by purchasing stilts.
Ms Misery keeps four cats. Which may explain why she has insatiable need to be top god, sorry dog, to stabilize her fragile ego. Her ego, you may call it spine, is so frail that John has often felt need to remind me that Ms Misery is of a tender disposition. Never mind that she is the same Ms Misery who gives short shrift to anyone who displeases her, telling hem to fuck off – that is how far her reasoning stretches. A dog will bark. Not Ms Misery. To her credit she recently shared with her readership the tribulations of her “bad teeth” (her words, not my assessment – how could I assess her teeth considering that she never smiles in any selfie she publishes?), so, take heart anyone who has the misfortune of crossing Ms Misery’s path: Her bite won’t make a dent.
Back to John. His downfall (which he shares with demented Sculptor and Ms Misery) that he needs to be liked. At all costs. He counts his blog’s followers. He records any who may fall by the wayside. Followers possibly disgusted at yet another streak mark or worse. Ms Misery does the same. Obsessively following her blog’s “stats”. That’s how I learnt how often I actually annoy her. “Annoy her”? She hates me. John has confirmed this to me – more than once. John is perfectly capable of imploring me to treat Ms Misery with kid gloves whilst standing by, aiding and abetting my not so fragile self being water boarded on all three respective blogs and in their comment boxes. My comments often deleted (that’s blog lingo for “buried”), letting theirs stand, tearing my reputation, in the eyes of other readers, apart. If you want “skewed” look no further than, mainly, demented Sculptor’s comment box – he does have it down to a fine art; Ms Misery is more devious in laying cow pats before they are dried out.
Before you nod in agreement that I deserve everything I get, please may I remind you of one fact, and it’s an important fact: Even if I haven’t said a word, nada, for days, because I am bored with the lot of them, they will bring up my name. No doubt to see whether I am still willing to give them some bait they can get their blunt teeth into.
To give him a free standing paragraph all to himself, the reason being that early on in our conversation I called him “vain”, a throw away remark he has not forgiven me for despite repeated, if half hearted, apologies of mine: Demented Sculptor so demented, his reasoning so scrambled he wouldn’t amount to an omelette. In his despair at some sort of recognition, he has now sculpted me as his very own desirable fashion accessory: Namely, the stalker.
I am warming to the theme but, him being an artist, even the demented Sculptor, the master of deleting even the friendliest and most reasoned comment of mine, will agree: Sometimes you need to know when to let your work fly the nest and find its own way in the world.
U
The Alternative Comment Box, 2
Tags: blog, blogging, Cling Eastwood, comments, death penality, hanging, justice, mercy
Before I proceed to address the incomparable Rachel once more, note to myself: Why am I spending time on someone who is so full of the disposable? Never mind, we all make our own amusement.
Sunday, 25 Feb 2018 – 0505 hrs GMT – not sent, to spare her deleting me.
“Dearest Rachel, following your recent and most admirable call to “compromise” on the political stage, my reply to which you, naturally (what a predictable creature you are), deleted, I note with interest that you are now calling for hanging.
In my mind’s eye I have no difficulty to imagine you right there, in the front line of the lynch mob. Think old, think film, think black and white, think law and own hands. How romantic. Trees come to mind. And you, being a farmer’s daughter, will have some rope (to take the cows up to the alm) always at the ready. That’s the props in place.
No one on a mission is without their supporters. Which you have found, so ably and so articulate, in the Anonymous Deb,xx. Your exchange so exhilarating, so intellectually stimulating – and I quote in Italics to put some mileage between you and me:
“Anonyomous 24 February 2018 at 20:29
Oh I so agree with you Rachel and I also think that bringing back hanging would cure alot of it instead of them spending chushy time in jail.There is no cure for these evil bastards so just get rid and dispose of them.The streets would be alot safer then for all of us,Debi,xx
Rachel 24 February 2018 at 21:12
It would do this country a favour if we hanged Levi Bellfield and Ian Huntley that’s for sure. What good are they to anybody. Murderers, liars, scum of the earth.
Anonymous24 February 2018 at 22:12
I could add a load more to that list as well Rachel!,Why keep them in prison…Just get rid..Oh,do we have to worry about their human rights??.As far as Im concerned,they dont have any.Debi,xx”
I particularly like those kisses. Signs of affection.
Yes, Debi,xx, ” … bringing back hanging would cure a lot of it instead of them spending chushy time in jail”. Your innocence is touching. It would “cure”? “A lot”? We are not talking ham. “Chushy time in jail”? I think you mean “cushy”. Sure, very cushy. Particularly child molesters/murderers. They have one hell of a “cushy” number among their inmates. Honour among thieves and all that. If they are young, pert in bottom, they might have an even cushier time by being given a taster straight up the arse.
Anyway, Rachel, let me not disturb your and the adorable Debixx’s reveries. Don’t count on winning Clint Eastwood’s favour. I can see the look of disgust and utter disdain for you two harpies in his, oh so squinting in the sun, blue eyes now.
U”