The Internet is Really Something

I just got the weirdest comment. It’s pretty long. Some guy or gal responded to my last post about the way my family has deteriorated. I haven’t published the comment yet. Maybe I will. It went to my trash folder automatically because it had a racial slur in it. This person quotes me using the right angle character, so anything you see right after that is me.

Some highlights:

>My sister was sick and sadistic. My mother was always unhappy

And you’re a psychotic liar.

It only gets weirder from there.

>With the exception of my strange Uncle John, who was cruel to me for no reason

= you did something to him, you know perfectly well what it is, and you don’t want to admit it. Whenever anyone says “and then they did this horrible thing FOR NO REASON” there’s always a reason. You, particularly, have made a habit of doing this, and of doing it in cases where the other side can be verified because it is online and visible.

Wow! John really was not a good guy. He divorced his wife and left her in poverty, after destroying what should have been a profitable car dealership. He could not control his addiction to alcohol, and he refused to use the time-tested, fill-in-the-blanks GMAC accounting system. My dad said he sold cars and never did the bookkeeping, so he had no idea what was going in or going out. He would buy cars from GM and sell them at auction for less than he paid, to raise cash.

It was bad. My grandfather pumped money into the business for a while, but he eventually quit. He called his other sons-in-law together and asked what they wanted to do, because it was affecting their children’s inheritance.

She had to go on welfare and live in a trailer while she got a teaching degree. John taught their youngest son to call her dirty names while she was struggling. He taught him to call the trailer a tin can. I don’t know if my cousin ever really recovered from the guilt. He eventually became an extremely devoted son. John also stole things in front of him and joked about it. I saw him go into an Arby’s, wrap both hands around the sauce bottles, and take them, like he was scooping up a big poker pot.

After he left Kentucky, he got a job teaching auto shop at a high school. He used to send my cousin stolen tools stamped “Property Of.”

I saw him hit his other son in the back, very hard, with a large screwdriver because he said something about a haircut his dad was giving him. Neither of us saw it coming. Just BANG! No sign he was mad until he struck. I froze, hoping I wasn’t next, and my cousin started crying from the pain.

That’s how John was. One second, things were fine, and the next second, he would explode for no reason. If my cousin had had any idea what was going to happen, he wouldn’t have said anything, but there is no way to predict what an abuser will do. I don’t think John was good to anyone.

I would guess I was 10 when my aunt divorced him and he exited my life. I suppose a really bad kid that age or younger could do mean things to a strong, tall man in the prime of life if he were really good. Not me. I was scared of him. I hated being in the room with him.

I remember him blocking my grandfather’s driveway with his car, drunk, crying, and pitying himself loudly about something or other related to the divorce. I guess I was about 10. My dad had to go out and get him to leave. Everyone was afraid he would try to come in the house. It was a very disturbing spectacle for a child to watch. When you’re a kid, you expect your elders not to act insane.

He did the strangest things. I recall him taking his sons and me to a drive-in restaurant, and we had burgers and fries. I sat in the back seat. After a while, he asked his sons if they wanted more fries. Then he reached over the seat into my box of food, grabbed all of my fries in his hand, ketchup and all, and dumped them in his son’s boxes. Like I wasn’t there. Didn’t say a word to me.

My mother would have lost her mind if she had seen that. I guess he was nicer to me when she was around, and that would explain why she never set him straight. She later came to believe he hated me because my grandfather loved me so much. He gave his eldest son my grandfather’s middle name, and my mother’s impression was that he wanted his son to be the son my grandfather never had.

I was too young to see and remember all that. I was told John used to practically throw his son at my grandfather, in an obvious and off-putting way.

I remember him unlocking the bathroom door while I was sitting on the toilet. No reason. He opened the door wide, took a good long look, and then closed it. He may have said something nasty about me being in there too long. I can’t recall. But it was a deliberate humiliation. I never heard anything about him being sexually perverted, so I don’t think that’s what it was about.

He was nice to my sister. The theory I heard is that as a girl, she couldn’t be a rival to his son, so she wasn’t a threat. I do remember this, though: she had a piggy bank containing silver dollars, and he broke into it while the adults were playing poker. I don’t recall whether he stole anything or not.

The one time I saw him after I grew up, he was respectful and polite, and I saw no trace of hostility, so maybe he was cowardly around adults. Instead of dealing with the trashy dealership employees who stole car parts and sold them, helping ruin him, he cried about them to my dad. I mean he literally cried and said he couldn’t understand why they were so mean. Perhaps he was one way with kids and another way with people who could fight back.

I wonder what his students went through. When I was at Miami Country Day School, a teacher named Jack Bubrick told me he was going to break my arm if I reached for a pencil to use on a quiz, and he said he didn’t care who my dad was. Out of nowhere. I was in the 7th grade. I wonder if John’s students have stories like that. But as high school students they would have been pretty big, so they might have been intimidating.

John is not online except possibly at Find a Grave.

I wrote about one of my aunts flipping out and excoriating me, and I got this:

>The last time she talked to me, she was furious.

Yeah, this is an interesting account. It’s very clear you’re leaving out about half of it, and particularly any of the context that might have led up to this interaction. People don’t talk that way out of the blue for no reason. It builds. You know it. You are lying about it, because you know you did things that caused her to be angry at you, and you can’t bring yourself to face your own flaws. You would much rather pretend to face imaginary flaws that don’t really bother you because you don’t really have them.

How about that? Hard to say what might have inspired it.

Here’s a really good one:

>He defended 11 people charged with murder and got 10 off completely.

You’re bragging about your father helping murderers escape punishment. You are choosing to brag about this. You think this is a good thing. There is no obligation for any lawyer to take a case. This is particularly clear in child porn cases: the lawyers won’t take them, because they find defending such individuals immoral. Your father was totally free to decide that defending a murderer was immoral. He didn’t. You’re proud of that.

The theory seems to be that if you’re accused of murder, you’re guilty, and you shouldn’t get a trial. Just a plastic bag over the head. And guilty people have no rights.

It would be silly to spend time explaining how wacky that is.

I think this is the most spectacular one:

>Now if I want a blood family, I’ll have to start one, in my old age.

Your kids will be niggers, on a continent where the nigger population is systematically alienating the civilized people as hard and as thoroughly as they can. You have taken what gifts there are in your bloodline and thrown them into a sewer. I would be angry about this if there was any indication you were trying to redeem any of your failings.

Criticism really hurts when 1) it’s true, 2) it’s expressed in a dignified and rational manner, and 3) it comes from someone you respect.

My bloodline is a mess. Mental illness on both sides. Addictions. Wife-beating. Adultery. Lying. Psychopathy. Obesity. Smart people, for sure, but my wife is as smart as they are.

The idea that white Europeans have magical genes is supported poorly, given our barbaric history. White people killed about a third of the Jews for no reason, in the modern age, when they had no excuse. And evidence suggests that Far Eastern Asians and Ashkenazi Jews are at the top of the intelligence heap. Over 40% of incoming MIT students are Asian, in a country where people descended from Europeans still hold a slim majority.

I would like to live in a country of Spirit-led Christians. Race immaterial.

Anyway, I thought I would share this with my readers. Interesting stuff.