A break from the usual dark, obtuse entries, because sometimes you have to ask… “Are you crazy? You have GOT to be kidding. I mean- are you for real? What are you on?”
It’s been a very stressful month and change. Most of the stress has come directly from the poison pen of some very hurt and angry people. So, I give what slack I can. People act irrationally when they are hurt. But then it suddenly becomes clear that some of them really are out of their minds. Pain is irrelevant- they are just stark slavering buggo. Barking mad. Fruitbats.
So, after weeks of vicious, hurtful slander and attacks, I have finally gotten most of my animal’s things out of her ex’s apartment (Which is a story unto itself. Rather than tell it here, I’d recomend the myth of the twelve labors of Hercules- most notably the Augean Stables; the hotel room description in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and the poetry of Charles Bukowski. ). However, that stuff was leverage for them. It was important to my animal, or we’d have long ago abandoned it, and not had to deal with the horror.
But; while they had it, they had something.
So we dealt with the attacks, we dealt with the slander, I kept silent, bided my time. Even when faced with hypocrisy, denial and outright nuttiness.
So, early the morning of the move, I was awoken by a phone call from a very dear friend. This woman is loyalty and integrity, wrapped in an exeedingly hot, curvy wrapper and adorned with red lipstick and diamond earrings. For reasons I cannot reason, the ex’s continue to call her, and explain what a terrible creature my animal is. I understand the compulsion which has been driving one of them to yammer slander at everone who wanders into her blast radius- that’s nothing new- but to seek out someone who you know does not like you or believe a word you say and try to convince her that her best friend is Satan’s Minion?
Please.
Well, this effort ended predictably.
Essentially, our friend said:
“I don’t ever want to hear you spread these lies about my friend again. I don’t ever want to hear that you are telling anyone else these lies. This is what I think of you- (insert scathing blast of invective here)– and that is exactly what I’ll tell everyone within the sound of my voice should I ever get wind of this kind of shit in the future.”
Among these colorful descriptions was one word which causes a great deal of controversy in our circles. We’ll call it the A-word. This word can be very socially hurtful around these parts. It is what they call “fightin’ words.”
When I arrive to pack and pick up the stuff, I am taken aside by one of the two ex’s and treated to the following (paraphrased):
“Flagg, you know I don’t like you, and you know by now that I have been trashing your name and that of (your animal) to everyone who stands still long enough for me to yammer the story out- but I only say things which are what I perceive your reputation to be anyway, so it’s okay.
But now someone is threatening to say bad things about us– not you, but someone you know- and that’s not right, and I want you to put a stop to it.”
You’re kidding, right?
But wait, there’s more.
I get home after moving the stuff out. Now note, with the belongings moved, their leverage is gone. They have no hostage. apparently, the shift in paradigm is recognizable… as a very polite email awaits me. (Paraphrasing), it says:
“We never said anything bad to you, and have never been vile or hurtful. And maybe someday you’ll recognize how swell we are being and come for dinner; and we like the status quo of giving you shit and never hearing a bad word in return… but that is never going to happen if this person says anything bad about us! If she does… no biscuit for you!”
So… to keep the status quo of listening to you slander me and mine, I have to stop a third party from expressing her opinion about you? according to the rules you set down for me, someone else is just talking within your reputation- so that can’t be wrong.
This is a joke, right? You can’t be serious.
Let’s look at this from a different angle:
You have no leverage. From this point on, the tone and quality of your communications has direct bearing on my/our bothering to listen. Yes, you have a right to share your feelings- but no, you can’t force me to pay the slightest attention. To put it simply: The amount of attention I pay is directly and inversely proprtional to the unpleasantness of dealing with you. No- one owes you anything for your feelings.
On the other hand, there is a third party who is just waiting for you to start screeching again, so she can put what she thinks of you out there.
Nothing to do with me. She’s defending her friend… and will do so in the very fishpond you’ve been so busy pissing in.
Perhaps you should reconsider your tactics from here on in? Just a thought.
:shakes head:
Comments
One response to “Century of the Fruitbat”
I can *almost* make it out…
Thoughts on Flagg and piracy