YOU ARE A RETARDED PIECE OF SHIT PSEUDO INTELLECTUAL WHORE.
Wah-hey! What a nice start to my morning!
It seems, ladies and gents, that I have a blog troll, the first sign that my strain towards world domination is finally bearing some fruit. Someone cares enough to read and gnash and write and call me a whore and even spell ‘pseudo’ correctly.
I don’t know a lot about this fan of mine, except his name is Matt, apparently, and he has a Singapore-based internet service provider, and that he has a slightly lesser-known email domain name of jessisgay.com. If I ever decide to change my sexual orientation I can’t wait to leap onto that little vessel of identity disclosure, something along the lines of “i_seriously_am@jessisgay.com” or “why_dont_you_believe_me_mum@jessisgay.com” or after_all_i_do_love_tori_amos@jessisgay.com.
But Matt, dear Matt, lil Matty, there were a few problems in your diatribe which I think best we clear up immediately so we can jump back onto the forgiveness train and chug along happily into Bygones Land.
For example, if you knew anything about my weeping mess of a love life you’d certainly not call me the last bit.
The retarded call – well that smarts, Matty, especially because of my theory that I ACTUALLY AM RETARDED, that my family and friends have been hiding it from me all my life, that I’m their little pity-friend who they take to left-wing rallies and book-signings to snag the eye of the spunky boho guy in the third row. If you saw most photos of me, you’ll know what I mean. (And clearly you did, Matty, because you seem to have found all google-images photos of me that were immediately discoverable and commented on them).
And finally, the ‘pseudo intellectual’ bit. Listen, Matty, I didn’t sit through 3 and a half years of a 3-year Arts Degree to be called pseudo-intellectual. What a fucking insult. How can you call me that? I am insulted when called anything lesser than a Theoretician of Junk Culture. I am an expert when it comes to Lindsay Lohan’s rehab troubles, Drew Barrymore’s boyfriends, Mariah Carey and Madonna’s ratings wars and Justin Timberlake’s relationship with Jessica Biel. HOW DARE YOU EVEN SUGGEST I AM AN INTELLECTUAL, even if only a pseudo one, I SPIT AT THE WORD, and then I go back to reading Famous magazine and writing essays on how Little Britain is the forefront of 21st Century political criticism.
“”i went to university and read a lot of BULLSHIT by LOSERS and now i AM ONE and WRITE IT too!!!!” —an ugly minger who everyone hates!?!?! perhaps!?!?!?”
It’s true, Matty, I had to read a lot of bullshit by losers, and now I am indeed one, and I write a lot of bullshit too. For example, once I wrote the following in an essay:
“It was through this careful manipulation of theatrical artistry that Garrick was able to increase the status of his theatre, his actors and his self. For example, the latter can be illustrated in the fact that, through better lighting, it became easier for the audience to see the “kaleidoscopic virtuosity” of Garrick’s facial expressions and hence appreciate his diversity as a performer. People could therefore see and understand, as Diderot has expressed, the ability of Garrick’s visage to move “successively from wild delight to temperate pleasure, from this to tranquillity, from tranquillity to surprise, from surprise to blank astonishment, from that to sorrow, from sorrow to the air of one overwhelmed, from that to fright, from fright to horror, and thence…up again to the point from which he started”.
That’s right, Matty, I used the word ‘visage’ instead of ‘face’, and I also dug up an old essay where I used the word ‘acquiescence’. That kind of thing just isn’t cool.
Matty, are you one of my old lecturers?
Matty’s next comment was to “support free speech and leave these up you stupid bitch”. Good point Matty, free speech is something I have dealt with thoroughly in my study of Comedy of Cruelty and the socio-political resonance of the Doug Anthony All Stars. Matty, I am more than happy to approve your comments if you write them with your full name and email address. Do it, Matty.
Matty wrote a little more about my relationship with Westfield, and he did pick up on the fact that it was a relationship of constant flux, one in which both participants are slightly unsure of each other, a relationship like friendless five year olds deciding to slum it with the other loser in the playground so that they have someone to play handball or pogs or yoyos with. It’s just like that, it’s complex and shifting and slippery, a bit like the definition of postmodernism, and something I’d probably write an essay about if I was still doing an Arts degree, but unfortunately I’m finished now, I’m not a pseudo-intellectual Arts-degree minger who everyone hates; I’m just a regular old minger who most people hate.
