Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Ineffective Old Arguments Rise from the Grave, I Play Undead Hunter

My. How original of you.

If anyone has ever doubted the tendency of some of the most intractable ideologues to condone behaviour in their cohorts that they would otherwise condemn in others, one needs only refer to some recent ravings at Benediction Blogs On.

In short, Benedict basically drags up the old argument posed by Red Tory, when he argued that Canadian Cynic shouldn't have to accept responsibility for his grossly atrocious Wanda Watkins comments (shorter version: "fuck off, Wanda Watkins, I don't care about your dead son because agree with your politics") because numerous other people have written under pseudonyms.

In the end, his attempts to try to compare Red Tory to people who wrote such literary classics as 1984 and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer really only make him come across as disingenuous.

I mean, say what you like about me and my blog, but at least I don't defend people who tell the mothers of grieving soldiers to fuck off for purely political reasons. And I certainly wouldn't do that for purely political reasons.

Stop me if you've heard this before.

In the end, Benedict takes the amusing route of trying to claim that Red Tory isn't a bully. Yet, someone may want to check in with Joanne and Joanne's Journey, or any of the writers at Canadian Blue Lemons to see if they agree, or perhaps if they feel a little bit bullied.

He also overlooks certain established facts: I've never given a damn about Red Tory's identity. He once freely offered to reveal it to me, but I turned him down in the process of telling him to take a hike. People who castigate me, kiss my ass, then return to castigating me (against their previous word) over essentially nothing (one remember's RT's long and tiresome attempts to try and find something objectionable in my writings, although he never could quite enunciate what that was supposed to be) can generally go take a flying fuck at a rolling donut, in my book.

Red Tory (allegedly Martin Rayner, but he's been too dishonest in the past to ever believe him now) is free to his precious (and ironic, if not outright facetious) pen name, as is Benedict. I have little interest in their identities.

There are some others who need to be outed so their vicious attacks on anyone and everyone who provokes their ill-defined ire can stop. They will be outed. One in particular will be outed at a time of my choosing.

Then there's the "how we know you are who you say you are?" angle. Well, if my Facebook account doesn't convince you, then the citation of my published work (with a publication that doesn't publish under pseudonyms) should.

Then again, at the end of the day, it really matters little: I am who I say I am. The people who know me know I am who I say I am.

Those people who are so cynical and ideologically-blindfolded so as to want to dispute that (for purely political reasons), there really is very little to say about.

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