The Disillusionment of Second Sight

So here’s an interesting one for you… Regular readers will be familiar with my adoration of comedic writer Dave Barry, as I often quote or paraphrase his trademark phrase “I swear I am not making this up.” Thankfully I lead an interesting enough life that I am often presented with circumstances that tell tales themselves or inspire me to do so. What transpired this afternoon was just such a circumstance. What was it, you ask? I’ll tell you; today I received a piece of what I can really only describe as hate mail.

Now, I have received negative emails and feedback in the past. This blog is, by and large, satirical and cynical and the opinions and views I express on these pages admittedly won’t be for everyone all the time. Generally I don’t feel the need to respond, and I certainly wouldn’t address such matters in this open forum.

The correspondence I received today, though, falls into a different category. This email was from someone connected to my past; a person that, despite the passage of nearly seven years from the events on which the writer felt compelled to comment had occurred, nevertheless felt the need to send me an insult-filled diatribe about said events. For the purposes of this writing we will simply refer to this person as “Disillusioned.”

Keep that in mind – the subject of the email was something that happened seven years ago. What makes the correspondence comical is the fact that Disillusioned was neither a participant in the events nor directly affected by them. Rendering the blather even more comical are the falsities upon which Disillusioned has based their opinion of me – embellishments of rumor and gossip Disillusioned could only have heard from one or more other third parties because, as I noted above, this person had no direct involvement whatsoever.

Based on nothing more than conjecture, Disillusioned saw fit to indicate that I am lower than whale shit, and let’s face it, Disillusioned knows when someone is lower than whale shit because they “have the gift of insight.”

Okay then…

The correspondence was filled with other personal insults and nonsense, ending with the notion that Disillusioned felt sorry for me and that my “life doesn’t look to pretty as is.” Disillusioned feels this way because, and *tips hat to Dave Barry* I swear I am not making this up, Disillusioned has “second sight” and is rarely wrong.

*pauses to let that sink in*

Yeah, this was too good to pass up. Here is this person from my past, apparently clairvoyantly judging my existence based upon nothing more than rumor about events that happened seven years ago. And Disillusioned pities me. Alrighty then.

Here’s the thing – I’m no saint. I’ve never claimed to be, nor have I ever claimed to be perfect. I know exactly what I’ve done or haven’t done in my life, and I’m fully aware of the sins I’ve committed. What I try not to do is judge others, period, and certainly not without having a full understanding of their situation based on first-hand knowledge and fact. Disillusioned, however, has apparently dwelled on an aspect of my life for seventy percent of the last decade. Not only that, but delusion of grandeur, haughty self-importance and self-righteousness compelled this person to send me hateful, condescending correspondence after all this time.

No, my disillusioned writer, it is you who deserves my pity. That you’ve held on to feelings on a matter in which you weren’t involved and upon which you’ve no right to comment or judge for the last seven years is what is truly pathetic. Your “second sight” is clearly as blind as the faith you’ve placed in the lies upon which you’ve judged me. How ironic that your insight failed to enlighten you to the fact that it is your writing, not mine, that constitutes the “meaningless drivel” here.

If nothing else I suppose I should thank you for providing the fodder for this post and the opportunity to point out just how sad it is, the way people must dwell on and meddle in the lives of others instead of focusing on their own. It is those people, Disillusioned included, for whom I feel sorry. What pathetically empty lives you must lead if dwelling so deeply in the affairs of others is what occupies your time. In some ways it’s actually kind of flattering. For so long this person has kept me in their thoughts, because thinking of me and my life was apparently of great enough importance to them to spend their time doing so.

But hey, what do I know. I’m just a pathetic, whale-shitty little boy who will never be a man. Or so I’ve heard. But I can’t be sure. I mean, I don’t have the “second sight” or anything. What I do have, however, is a good career, wonderful family and friends, a successful book series, a Jeep, a dog, and a smile.

Sorry, did your insight not tell you that?

 

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