I think a lot of my haters people simply hate me for being me. An example is my About page. For some reason, almost everyone on the Net hates that page. I think one person on the whole Net, a guy on American Renaissance, actually figured out what I was trying to say on that page.
I’ve reread it 5,000 times to try to figure out what’s wrong with it, but I’m stumped. It’s actually rather clever, and I think it’s pretty funny too. Sure, it uses some big words, but if you can’t handle obscure vocabulary and lexical gymnastics, you’re reading the wrong damn site.
http://www.retard.net is that-a-way. You know, the site most people hang out on?
Almost always when someone posts that About page, the reaction is, “Wow, that guys really insane/crazy/lunatic/mentally ill/weird/freaky/bizarre/incomprehensible.” The About page is apparently evidence of insanity. As someone who works in mental health, you would think I know a thing or two about that. I’ve read that page over and over looking for sins of mental disorder or dysfunction, and for the life of me, I can’t see any signs of psychosis or any mental illness on Axis 1 or 2 on that page.
The latest is that the About page is very weird, disturbing, and creepy, and it makes people very uncomfortable. Why? What’s so weird about it? How is it disturbing? Where’s the creepiness? Why in God’s name would a page like that make you creeped out or uncomfortable? I don’t get it.
Guess what? That About page is me. It’s really, really, really, really me. If you hate my About page, you simply hate me because that page is me at my absolute essential self, my being, my soul, my Dasein. You don’t hate me for one sentence I said or the way I walk or how I looked at that waitress or the strange expression in my eyes or some funny mannerism I just made. You don’t hate me for some minor situational behavior. It’s much worse. If you hate the About page, you hate me at my very core essential self. In other words, you’re an enemy. When someone hates you for being you, hates your true, pure, real, authentic self, they’re gone. There’s no bringing them back, and nothing you do can change them because you can’t stop being you.
More importantly, if someone hates you at your deepest inner self, your very Being, why on Earth would you want to change yourself to please this person?
You know what? What you see is what you get. You either like me or you don’t. You either love me or hate me. Take your pick. And if you hate me for simply being me, if you hate me at my very essence of selfhood, I have only one thing to say to you:
FUCK YOU.
