Where Angels Fear
5 min readSep 6, 2020

--

It’s just possible that Poe’s Law applies here and you were being scornful of such arguments yourself … in which case, not only do I apologise but stand in awe of your mastery of satire.

However … if that is not the case then, trust me, the argument I made is more than clear to anyone with more than one braincell to rub together — if you can't see it, well ... every other sentient being in the Universe either can or will in time, when they read it.

As for sarcasm, I don’t do sarcasm (I’m not eleven years old), I do withering scorn — the difference may be subtle, but it’s significant and, again, if you can’t see it, it reflects badly upon no-one but yourself (indicating that sarcasm is the extent of your own intellectual repertoire).

But, just to clear up any misapprehension caused by my use of ̶ ̶m̶u̶l̶t̶i̶s̶y̶l̶l̶a̶b̶l̶e̶s̶ ̶m̶u̶l̶t̶i̶s̶y̶l̶l̶a̶b̶i̶c̶ words ̶c̶o̶n̶t̶a̶i̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ … *sigh* words of more than one sound …

Anyone … anyone … who starts with “I’m not racist, but” is a racist — there are no exceptions to that law … which is why it’s a law, not simply a rule … and, yet again, if you can’t see that …

By the same token … anyone making the argument that “I’m not a fuckwit myself, but those fuckwits over there do have a point” … as you did … does not have a point themself, they’re just a fuckwit … and there is not simply no amount of weaselly mental gymnastics they can engage in that can disguise that fact but there never will be — when the Universe collapses in the Big Crunch, when both Space and Time come to an end, when History itself becomes history, there will have been no argument they could have attempted to make that would have successfully convinced anyone that they were not a fuckwit.

“Staunch individualists” in this context is wannabe code … the kind for which seven-year-olds need the decoder ring that came free in a box of breakfast cereal … for “drooling, developmentally arrested randroid.”

Like ‘asking for a friend’ … ‘many are’ is the same sophisticated ‘code’ for “I am.”

If you don’t like what these facts … not inferences, facts … say about you, the best thing you could do is to stop being you; the exhortation to just be our ‘authentic selves’ so beloved of tree-hugging New Age charlatans and loons everywhere only holds so long as we don’t suck — if we suck, however, then the best thing to do is to be someone else.

But if … as will, I suspect, almost certainly prove to be the case (so certainly, I’d be willing to bet serious money on it myself) … that’s beyond you, at the very least, don’t embarrass yourself by making fuckwit arguments ‘on behalf of a friend.’ You don’t fool anyone and it doesn’t make you look reasoned and rational … it just makes you look like a fuckwit.

It is, of course my own fault, in a way … for having failed to word my reply in such a way that it could be understood even by someone prepared to write the immortal words “I’m not a Flat Earther, but […] Many are staunch individualists who don’t believe things just because people on TV say they should”

… but I do hope my above remarks are such that even someone with your apparent reading comprehension abilities doesn’t mistake scorn for sarcasm a second time — I’d hate to have to experience that amount of … what’s the word … ah, yes …Fremdschamen … on your behalf again.

If your comment was satire then, yes, I apologise, but … at the same time … the caveat to penning such is that, when its done well, Poe’s Law applies. Lord knows … even though I labour to make it as subtle as a brick in the face with the word ‘J.O.K.E.’ emblazoned on the side in neon paint for the hard of thinking … I bring its consequences upon myself often enough that I am well aware of the dangers, yet persist in writing it nevertheless, so …. although it is perfectly legitimate on my part to bemoan the general level of ignorance and developmental arrest in the population at large (there are 7.8 billion people on the planet and, whilst I’m no genius myself, 7.79 billion of them have an even lower IQ than do I!) … I’m not in a position to complain when they strike. So, at the end of the day, whilst I may have missed it, you’ve no-one but yourself to blame for that — be less subtle about it. I suspect that anyone capable of penning satire that well would be more than capable of discerning between sarcasm and scorn, however … so, I’m not sure — you might be a genius … but you might just as equally, be a drooling retard (and, statistically speaking, my money’s on the latter).

--

--

Where Angels Fear
Where Angels Fear

Written by Where Angels Fear

There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.

No responses yet