I Get the Message — But It Still Doesn't Make It True.
I get it. I really do. I've listened to the Mouse gang. I've read the comments, absorbed the insults and watched the continued attempts to portray me as some uniquely terrible human being who shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a keyboard, a camera or the internet. I'm a terrible person. I don't deserve to live, let alone go online. I'm evil beyond words. Every waking thought is devoted to hurting other people and driving them to despair. I'm the servant of the Devil, a man with nothing worthwhile to contribute to the world. I'm fat. I'm ugly. I'm useless. And the world would apparently be a better place if I simply disappeared from it. Okay, I get it. I've heard you. I've understood the accusation. I've understood the hatred. I've even understood the obsession with telling me, repeatedly and in increasingly imaginative ways, what you think I am. But here's the inconvenient bit: It doesn't make it true. That's the part ...
