“…in All the Wrong Places”

Joined Daily Kos a few weeks ago. Since Twitter shit-canned me—twice—without explanation other than a link to their Hadrian’s wall of dreaded, almost meaningless Twitter Rules, I needed some form of interaction. Most of the crew at DK seemed pretty cool, so I thought I’d give it a try.

And they are cool for the most part. Way cool.

But I knew there’d be some flies in the ointment, and there were. It only took a few days for that to pan out.

Fly the First was some naggy old broad from Tesas. I don’t necessarily dislike her, but she has a finger-wagging way about her that annoys me. Our last interchange was about how VA Hospitals suck. She told me they didn’t. Then I posted a link to illustrate the length and breadth of the VA’s suckage. She ended it by saying “Then why don’t you do something about it?”

Nag, nag, nag.

Fly II was some guy who griped at me for using the phrase “indian giver.” I was kind of drunk at the time and thought he was just yanking my chain so I answered as would a frustrated Scottsman in a land that only spoke English.

Fly the Third was some guy who wouldn’t give it up, and basically accused me of being a racist for using that phrase. He also deeply objected to using the word “gypped” because it was originally a slur against Gypsies in Romania hundreds of years ago.

I replied:

You are way off base. When you have to explain the etymology of a slur, it’s probably not as bad as you thought it was, in this case “gypped.”

Regarding “Indian Giver” the picture of a Native American never entered my mind, and I’m sure that’s true for well over 90% of all the people who use it. We think of The Little Rascals or Leave it to Beaver.

You’re just posturing. It’s a piss poor example of the laziest form of Virtue Signaling.

You’re bending over backwards to find offense where none was intended and only scant evidence exists.

(by the way, the thing I called “indian giver” was alcohol, as in the embodiment of alcohol)

He’s a dick I hope I never see him again. He’s a “Liberal Stinker” which was the topic of another “diary” as they call them there. He’s the kind of guy who will work overtime to prove that he is liberal-er, yea, more liberal-er than thou.

I will refrain from using those phrases again, in the future, because I am a liberal, and as such I strive to be considerate to others.

I have to say that thanks to the Liberal Stinkers, we’ve reached a point in this country where it feels like you can’t open your mouth without offending someone.

Fly the Fourth, and the worst of the flies to date, is some dirty piece of shit conservative who weaseled onto the site just so he can fuck with liberals. Apparently he’s been there for years, so he’s always careful to make his jibes just shy of the line of violation.

If you’re not familiar with sites like this, for reasons too many to go into now, they tend to be distinctly bifurcated. Liberal sites are for liberals, and conservative sites are for conservatives.

The cons keep us off their sites because it is ridiculously easy to show, nay, to prove how stupid their arguments are…and they don’t like that.

Liberals keep the cons off of their site because the cons will run around posting disgusting pictures of dog shit and aborted fetuses and, whenever possible, ganging up on a given user and making his life hell…and liberals don’t like that.

Anyway…the very odd thing about the DK boards is that there is no block or mute button. If you cross paths with an idiot or an asshole, there’s no way to not see that person again, so you have to learn to live with it.

Which might be a good thing in the long run.

Not sure yet.

In closing, I went to DK hoping to find some kindred spirits, and thus far I’ve come up short. Even though online bulletin boards and social media sites are better than nothing…and sadly, for millions of us that’s all there is…you’re probably never going to find a true friend there.

You’ll never really find your people.

You’ll just have to keep looking, out there in the real world, on the planet where you’re beginning to suspect you don’t belong.

That’s where it will hurt the most.

But that’s the only place it counts.