This evening I received a comment on my blog. Two sentences. Ten words. Five words to each sentence. Very clearly meant to be insults. Truthfully, they have a stark sort of honesty to them.
This is a terrible blog. You are a horrible writer.
While I suppose I should be upset, or at least feel as if I've been virtually slapped in the face, I actually laughed when I read it. Not because it isn't mean, because it most certainly is. I laughed because I instantly thought of the age old saying 'consider the source'. When I was young, I used to get upset by names people called me. Believe it or not, I was very sensitive and these insults hurt. They bothered me. As I grew up, I learned the importance of considering the source, and eventually confronted the fact that I really don't care what most people think of me. Caring about such things is a waste of time and energy, two things I don't have unlimited resources of.
Fat. Ugly. Dumb. Manly. These opinions didn't matter to me. Not because they weren't valid, certainly the other person perceived me as such (maybe - the art of name calling is such a fickle thing. Sometimes the individual being a meany pants doesn't actually believe the things they say. Sometimes they are just trying to get a reaction.) Actually, the reason these opinions didn't matter to me was because the source was an untrustworthy one. They weren't people I knew, talked to, or cared about. So, why should what they say affect me? Why should I lose sleep over the opinions of sheep? (That being said, I quite like sheep)
That was in real life, though. How does this apply to the internet? Well, when I saw this comment on my blog, I laughed because I can't even consider the source. The source is anonymous. Sure, I can go to stat counter and see where it was posted (the Vancouver Public Library), how long they spent on my blog (a minute and a half), where they came from (Facebook) and what else they viewed (just the Wordy Wednesday blog). So, not as anonymous as one might hope, but enough for me to not actually know who this person is. Not really.
They are in fact faceless and nameless. A nobody. An insignificant piece of fluff in a virtual universe they probably can't even comprehend. They chose to be anonymous and in doing so rendered their opinions worthless. Weightless. Insignificant. Because they are the opinions of nobody. And who is bothered by the thoughts of no one?
Except, then I got to thinking, which is never a good thing. Is this anonymous run by commenting a random act of insulting? Or is it more personal? Does this person know me? Or not? Did they come from my personal Facebook? Or my writerly page?
These are things I can't answer, but I've come up with these two scenarios:
Scenario 1: This is someone I know. Who came from my personal Facebook. A once upon a time friend, who hates everything I've ever penned, who came to their breaking point tonight after suffering years of my blogs. So, at 7:40PM on a Thursday night, they head out to the Vancouver Public Library and craft the most honest two sentences they will ever say to me.
For sure, I hope this isn't the case. After all, I'd rather they just remove me from Facebook and ignore my blog. That being said, now I kind of feel bad for laughing at their comment. I mean, maybe it's more valid than I initially gave it credit. Still, I picture them hunkered down at that public computer, punching down on the keys, and I hope they got at least a little satisfaction when they posted it.
Scenario 2: Some stranger is biding their time at the VPL this evening and stumbles upon my blog. After a quick minute and a half, they come to the conclusion that the blog is terrible and I am horrible. Instead of simply keeping their thoughts to themselves, they decide to hide behind anonymity and try to insult me. Sadly, it doesn't work, not only because they are a nobody to me, literally because they didn't even put in their first name, but because their conclusion seems unfounded. Okay, I might be a bit bias because I actually like my writing, for the most part, but they spent a mere minute and a half on my page. With a 371 word blog, they'd have to read 4.12 words a second. Now, that's not unheard of, after all speed readers can read even faster, but I highly doubt ninety seconds is enough time for this particular individual to read and absorb the genius of my last post.
Thus, in conclusion, if you put anonymous on something, be prepared for there to be no power in your punch. These blogs are mostly for myself, still I understand people sometimes swing by for a gander. I apologize if they aren't up to your standards, but I seriously try my best. Except on Wednesdays, obviously. In the end, I feel bad for this VPL reader. Kind of like, I wish they had something better to do on a Thursday night. I am under the understanding that happy people don't do things like this. Happy people spread kindness. Not meanness.
As I sit here, I wish I could give this person a hug. Because I think they might just need one.
That was in real life, though. How does this apply to the internet? Well, when I saw this comment on my blog, I laughed because I can't even consider the source. The source is anonymous. Sure, I can go to stat counter and see where it was posted (the Vancouver Public Library), how long they spent on my blog (a minute and a half), where they came from (Facebook) and what else they viewed (just the Wordy Wednesday blog). So, not as anonymous as one might hope, but enough for me to not actually know who this person is. Not really.
They are in fact faceless and nameless. A nobody. An insignificant piece of fluff in a virtual universe they probably can't even comprehend. They chose to be anonymous and in doing so rendered their opinions worthless. Weightless. Insignificant. Because they are the opinions of nobody. And who is bothered by the thoughts of no one?
Except, then I got to thinking, which is never a good thing. Is this anonymous run by commenting a random act of insulting? Or is it more personal? Does this person know me? Or not? Did they come from my personal Facebook? Or my writerly page?
These are things I can't answer, but I've come up with these two scenarios:
Scenario 1: This is someone I know. Who came from my personal Facebook. A once upon a time friend, who hates everything I've ever penned, who came to their breaking point tonight after suffering years of my blogs. So, at 7:40PM on a Thursday night, they head out to the Vancouver Public Library and craft the most honest two sentences they will ever say to me.
For sure, I hope this isn't the case. After all, I'd rather they just remove me from Facebook and ignore my blog. That being said, now I kind of feel bad for laughing at their comment. I mean, maybe it's more valid than I initially gave it credit. Still, I picture them hunkered down at that public computer, punching down on the keys, and I hope they got at least a little satisfaction when they posted it.
Scenario 2: Some stranger is biding their time at the VPL this evening and stumbles upon my blog. After a quick minute and a half, they come to the conclusion that the blog is terrible and I am horrible. Instead of simply keeping their thoughts to themselves, they decide to hide behind anonymity and try to insult me. Sadly, it doesn't work, not only because they are a nobody to me, literally because they didn't even put in their first name, but because their conclusion seems unfounded. Okay, I might be a bit bias because I actually like my writing, for the most part, but they spent a mere minute and a half on my page. With a 371 word blog, they'd have to read 4.12 words a second. Now, that's not unheard of, after all speed readers can read even faster, but I highly doubt ninety seconds is enough time for this particular individual to read and absorb the genius of my last post.
Thus, in conclusion, if you put anonymous on something, be prepared for there to be no power in your punch. These blogs are mostly for myself, still I understand people sometimes swing by for a gander. I apologize if they aren't up to your standards, but I seriously try my best. Except on Wednesdays, obviously. In the end, I feel bad for this VPL reader. Kind of like, I wish they had something better to do on a Thursday night. I am under the understanding that happy people don't do things like this. Happy people spread kindness. Not meanness.
As I sit here, I wish I could give this person a hug. Because I think they might just need one.
Wise words by Ralph Waldo Emerson
5 comments:
What a beautifully gracious and compassionate piece. You are an absolute piece of work. An art work or great beauty xxx
Dreadful typo, sorry x
@TabbyPuss - Love you.
Located any more 'obsessed stalkers'?
Hope things turn around for you soon.
@Gee Whiz - That's the beauty. I don't have to locate them. They always come to me.
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