If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a person with no sense of humor. So, yeah, a person is a thing to me, I guess.
If there are two things I can’t stand, then the second thing is a paper cut. But that doesn’t matter, because this post is only about the first thing.
Recently, I blogged on over to my friend’s entertainment blog, The Hollywood Sigh where I often draw a refreshing drink of Haterade from her well of snarky celebrity take-downs.
On this particular occasion, my blogger friend was pointing out that a pair of Duggar breeders (I don’t know, Jessa and her inseminator?) chose a very uncommon name for their new child: Spurgeon. A child born in this very century. She posited that perhaps this unusual name would leave them–and their offspring–vulnerable to misunderstanding and, gasp, ridicule.
To make her point, she referenced an Urban Dictionary entry as supporting evidence.
Now, to be clear, my blogger friend is fully aware that Urban Dictionary is essentially a parody/satire/humor site. She knows this. She was making a f**king joke. If you spend ten minutes at The Hollywood Sigh, you will probably be laughing for eight of those minutes. It’s pop culture snark and delicious iconoclastic fantastic.
And still, there was this person with the username Starsdancer (!!) who left this comment:
This story is incorrect. The baby was not born in hospital. This was a home birth and the mother had complications after the birth. Mother went to hospital. Baby joined her later and spent the night. Very bad reporting. As for Wikipedia’s urban dictionary – anyone and everyone can contribute a definition. This is the penultimate in stupidity. A reporter not only NOT getting the facts straight but somehow using urban dictionary as a legitimate source of information. And as a matter of point, when I heard the name I immediately thought of a fictional character named “Spurgeon Tanner” from the movie Deep Impact, played by Robert Duvall. Some people need to grow the he!! up and get over their ignoramus selves. And, by the way, Urban Dictionary was never intended to be taken in anyway seriously. It was first introduced as a parody. smh
SMH, indeed. She has an out-there name like Starsdancer and yet no sarcasm detector? I can’t believe people like this exist. Not only did she not get the joke, she felt slighted enough to comment. Instead of just scratching her head and bopping over to the News section of the Saltine Cracker website to catch the latest happenings on dry, salty squares, she decided that she needed to set the record straight and get Medill on this “reporter.” AND SHE REFERENCES A CHARACTER IN THE BLOCKBUSTER HIT DEEP IMPACT “as a matter of point.” HAHAHAHAHA!
And that was sarcasm, Starsdancer. NO ONE saw Deep Impact! Everyone was too busy watching Armageddon. AAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH! SO CLUELESS! [exasperated sound! Which would probably just be AAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH again]
In that moment, I decided that I needed to address this comment. I decided the best way to combat humorlessness was with humorfulness. So I proceeded to type:
And as Starsdancer tightened her grip around Humor’s throat, she growled, “Why are you always so disrespectful? Why must everything be a JOKE to you?”
Humor looked up with bulging eyes, struggling weakly against the assault. As his windpipe compressed, he offered up what sounded like an apology, “I . . . sorry . . . just . . . joke . . .”
“But Urban Dictionary isn’t a REAL dictionary,” Starsdancer continued, “you naughty so-and-so!!! It’s dirty business! Full of bad, bad, ideas!!! You filthy liar!” Starsdancer began punctuating her words by slamming Humor’s head against the floor. “Read Oxford!” SLAM “Or Webster’s!” SLAM “Or Roget’s!” SLAM “But Urban Dictionary is full of lies and deceptions and distractions from TRUTH!” SLAM SLAM SLAM.
But by then, it was too late. Humor was gone. The fight was over.
Starsdancer was exhausted. And far from proud of what she had done.
“But I had to do it,” she muttered to herself, taking in great gulps of air. “It had to be done. People would have believed that Urban Dictionary was a legitimate source of information. The standard for the English language, even! Oh my, no no no. That couldn’t be. Not at all.”
Humor just laid there. Eyes wide. Tongue out.
Just as disrespectful in death as he was in life.
Spreading his lies.
I awaited her response. This was her response:
Well, you are funny. Idiotic, but funny.
Great. I scored a “funny.” Twice. Since funny was the last word in her response, I thought I’d just let that shit ride. I got through to her funless heart somehow and that was as much of a victory as anyone could dare hope with Starsdancer.
So I dropped it.
Then, FOUR DAYS LATER I was notified that Starsdancer had a new thought for me:
Okay so Jeff, your basically insane, right?
What the actual f**k.
Starsdancer stewed on this for four days? I had completely forgotten about it until I got the notification. How many times did she go back and read it? Was it festering in one of her brain lobes all this time? Did she call in to work? On social media and comment sections, four days is an eternity. And yet she simmered all that time until she boiled over and couldn’t help dropping another comment.
I thought of responding with: “Holy shit. For real, Starsdancer? Do like Disney and let it go. And BTW it’s *you’re.*”
Instead, I responded with this:
Jeff walked into his quiet house. The lights were out. His wife was with the kids at her sister’s. Which was good, because work had taken the last of what Jeff had left. He just wanted a floor to kick his shoes off onto, a hook to hang his coat, a couch to sink into and maybe a beer to round off the edges. He enjoyed the stillness. The furnace pushing air through the ducts and the occasional tick of the settling house were the only sounds. He knew that after a few hours, he’d miss the chatter of his kids and the life they filled his day with, but for now the silence was euphoric.
“I know you know.” In the quiet, the woman’s whisper boomed.
Jeff stumbled back and fumbled for the light switch. Eternities spun out as his fingers scattered, missing the switch they absent-mindedly flicked on and off every single day for the last 12 years.
“I know you know what I did to Humor.”
Light exploded down and there, at the dining room table, was Starsdancer.
“What the fuck?”
“Come on now, Jefffff. You knew I couldn’t let that go. You saw and you told. You told like a nasty ole big mouth tattler, didn’t you? That’s what you are, a tattler!”
Jeff couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He just couldn’t accept what his eyes and ears were reporting back to him. “How . . . I mean, how did you get in here?”
“Aww come on,” Starsdancer lit a cigarette. “I have my ways. I’m resourceful. I get things done that need doing.” Her words were spoken with stiff lips holding her cigarette in place.
“Look, that was ages ago in some comments on an entertainment blog post.”
“Ages ago, huh? Well, what’s the statue of limitations on MURDER, Jefffff?”
“I think you mean statute.”
She pushed forward against the table, “I MEAN STATUE! I SAY WHAT I MEAN! I’M NOT SOME FUNNY INSANE IDIOT WHO LIKES TO LIE AND TATTLE!!”
Her words echoed out. Silence returned. The house creaked and settled, demonstrating an apathy for its inhabitants that said all Jeff needed to know about his mortality.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you,” a more composed Starsdancer continued. “We both know what I think of funny. We both know what I DO to funny.” She pushed away from the table, smashing out her cigarette right into the tabletop as she stood.
Just then SURPRISE burst in the door, yelling “Surprise!!! Jeff didn’t know how to end this pathetic chapter, so here I am. HEEE HEEEE!!” And SURPRISE squeezed a bulb horn. Expectedly, it honked like a goose.
“FUCK!” Starsdancer screeched. “I fucking HATE surprises! I hate surprises most of all!!” And she lunged for SURPRISE from across the room.
That’s when Jeff saw the really long knife in her hand. He had just enough time to think *Shit, that knife was meant for me* before it plunged into SURPRISE. Starsdancer and SURPRISE tumbled out the door and down the concrete steps onto Jeff’s front lawn.
SURPRISE was howling.
Starsdancer taunted, “What’s the matter? Don’t you like surprises? This is just a little unexpected fun!!” Then she cackled with unsettling power.
Jeff quietly closed the door and threw the deadbolt. He walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Today had been a bear.
I laughed to beat the band. She hasn’t responded yet. I think this finished it.
Except now I posted it here and dragged you all into this mess.
And I really don’t have a point to make. I dragged you in for no reason.
Well, maybe it’s my hope that you think of creative ways to combat stupidity in comment sections across the internet. Because you know you will never change someone’s opinion. But at least you can have a little more fun on your go-round.
Cheers, my Hillains!