I kinda get it. The most meaningful thing you’ve done in all your thirty-three years is that Facebook profile photo with the backward baseball cap and funny hand gestures while you pose with your ill-mannered progeny you absolutely refuse to parent.
So your life strategy is to summarily dismiss anyone who’s actually accomplished anything, which is pretty much everyone else.
And let me tell ya, nothing says “take me seriously” like pre-middle-aged Caucasians trying to act gangster while holding onto a drooling kid. And when a stay-at-home white mom does it, it’s truly tragic.
Since we’re on the subject, bragging about procreating is like bragging about breathing – most of us can do it. The truth is, those Facebook profile pictures and insipid stick figures on the back of your green 2010 Dodge Caravan are truly terrifying, because every time one of you overly entitled and not very bright neighbors pops out another intolerable rug rat, the movie ‘Idiocracy’ comes that much closer to reality.
But I digress!
Look! I don’t care if you read my stuff; I don’t care if you disagree with something I say; I don’t care if you think I suck; I don’t care if I’ve offended your delicate sensibilities; I can’t stand your least common denominator children and, quite frankly, I don’t care about you.
But I do care about good journalism. Since you certainly won’t find it in the Daily Herald, the Tribune newspapers or, God forbid, The Chronicle, I actually make an effort to uncover and report stories that matter – and I don’t get a dime for doing it.
Some of us actually believe in an ideal, not just how much weight we can gain in a day.
It’s not that I’m overestimating my place in the universe – I’m not. I’m generally surly, somewhat opinionated, a real pain in the ass, relentless, unforgiving, unreasonable, ornery, utterly impatient, unfriendly, occasionally egotistical and I’ll let you know exactly what I think about you, and it’s rarely something good.
It’s all part of my vast charm – just ask my wife and the Geneva Police, who insist on regularly arresting me on bogus charges. The bottom line is, if you don’t like my stuff – don’t read it!
But like that twice-daily-accurate broken clock, there are two things I can do. I can investigate a story and I can write about it. So, going forward, if any of you mediocre-at-best-only-taking-up-space-on-this-planet people, who sit at home in the same underwear you’ve worn for three days playing Candy Crush on your cell phone for hours at a time while you brainwash your un-special miscreants with endless episodes of Barney, have the nerve to question my journalistic credentials, you’re getting blocked.
Despite the fact that it will greatly limit those hallowed hits, I’m not aiming for a ton of readers, I’m aiming for smart readers. So, my newest mission in life is for my Facebook blocked list to be longer than my friends list. And at the rate you all are annoying the shit out of me, it won’t take very long.
To be more specific, if you say anything marginally close to any of the following:
- “’Jump’ isn’t a verb, but ‘Jumping’ is. You should know that as a writer.”
- “I think I’ve already read this somewhere else,” without citing the source.
- “If the hospital was on lockdown, how could you talk to the people inside?” It’s called a cell phone you bleep!
- “Clearly you didn’t do your due diligence, because you’re wrong,” with no proof.
- “Have you done x,y and z?” While you sit on your ample ass doing absolutely nothing.
- “Why didn’t you present the other side of the story?” Because I’m a fucking opinion columnist. Why don’t you fucking write a rebuttal?
- “My cousin writes better than you do – he should be the columnist.”
- “You’re not telling the truth,” without citing relevant sources.
- Or, if you choose to engage me in a verbal repartee you couldn’t win on your best day,
you get blocked. And it truly will be your loss. (And all of those above things actually happened!)
Oh! And to anyone with a pretentious first name like Becca, Alistair, Rufus, Harper, Finn, Ivy, Leighton, Madison, Auden, Nico, Salinger, Farrah, Inez, Pandora, Wren, Hamish or any name with an “i” where a “y” should be, you’re getting’ blocked on pure principle.
On the other hand, if you argue cogently with facts and evidence to back it up; if you bring something new to the equation; if you convince me that my ticks-dropping-from-trees theory is a myth; if you say “we can agree to disagree;” if you politely encourage me to look into some other possibility, and most of all, if you make me laugh, life is good!
For example, if, like Elgin City Councilman Corey Dixon, you reach out privately with, “I’ve heard you kinda suck, but I wanted to see for myself,” and I can’t respond because I’m laughing so hard, we’re friends for life.
If, like Kane County Board member Kurt Kojzarek’s father, upon being introduced, you say, “Yeah I recognized you from across the room, but I’ve read enough of your bullshit on Facebook that I didn’t feel the need to come over,” I’ll mow your lawn for an entire summer.
But as for the rest of you, like Bill Burr said, “Eight-five percent of you need to walk into the ocean and not come back.”
So please make an effort to actually think. Please consider there’s a reality outside of your own. Please take the time to understand we’re all a part of something greater than ourselves. Perhaps you might even want to accomplish something that might just make me giddy.
Because if you don’t, you’re fucking blocked!