June 10th 2017

Today in reasons to be glad that I'm socially blind:in People suck. Cats are awesome. Dogs are alright.

Revised: 06/10/2017 4:12 p.m.

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•  June 10, 2017, 11:40 a.m.
 
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• Public

Yesterday someone erroneously thought that another user was talking about me. So I go to that person’s page, and no, they’re rambling incoherently about someone else, whose been doing the same to them, for quite some time.

If Prosebox acquaintances are to be believed, these two, (and presumably others), use multiple accounts to get around being blocked and harass each other. To the point that at least one decent human being is in fear of saying anything about it, lest he join the ranks of the harassed.

Surely I can’t be the only one who thinks this whole mess is just ungodly stupid.

One: People have always hated me. Since I was four years old, and had just started school, I’ve always been called names. At some point it stopped bothering me and became the lifeblood of my existence. I live to bother people. If someone’s calling you names, that means you’re occupying space in their brain, and taking a chunk of their time. Their narcissistic, histrionic, time; but time, nonetheless. Time and energy are finite. Coins thrown at your face might sting, but they’re still currency.

Two: Why is it even allowed? Why can people here not just report harassment and get a user banned, like they could at any other respectable site? Even on Reddit, the epitome of information chaos, (I digress. That would be 4Chan, but you get my point.), users get banned. True, they just reincarnate under new names, but they change their behavior; and you get the overall impression that the people in charge want their users to be reasonably happy. Allowing this stupidity to continue gives a person the opposite impression here.

Which brings me to

Three: I’m cleaning up my old Blogger page and moving everything I’ve written here, there. I’ll post a link once I’ve got it ready later today, and one to my Facebook page, for the few of you who’ve made an effort to be nice to me.

Nice people on my Facebook “friends” list get my renowned Lovecraftian holiday cards every year, because they take time and energy to create, and I actually value decent human beings. They’re too rare to take for granted. (Just so you have an incentive.)

I suppose I could come back here to comment on other’s writing. That seems fair.

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Edited to add:

This isn’t about the idiots desperately posturing for possession of their corner of the playground. They’re the human equivalent of parasites, or pests, and they’re everywhere. Every workplace, every school, every family gathering. Arguing with them is like arguing with the ants who are crawling all over your table. They’re too stupid to understand you, so there’s no point.

It’s about the management here, and the fact that people seem to have been left to fight amongst themselves. Where’s the waiter to replace this soup that has bugs in it? The playground attendant to send the bullies to the office? I rented what I thought was a nice, clean hotel room; and there are mice chewing on the towels, and no one’s even at the front desk to complain about it to.

I understand why others stay. I do. There really isn’t anything better to replace Open Diary, and that’s sad. But until I see some evidence that the restaurant owner is looking for an exterminator, I’d rather be some place better; even if it isn’t as social.

I’ll check back.