There’s something fundamentally disinteresting about people who strike a contrarian pose for the sake of getting attention only to complain about the attention they receive when (shock!) it’s negative. Apparently they are so enamored with their own prose it is assumed everyone else will fall in line. Darn those Neanderthals who just don’t get it.
Making a stand for what one believes in and catching flak as a result? You accept the heat. You also know better than to whine about being picked on. Why? You asked for it. And so, if you have anything vaguely resembling a clue, you learn to shrug it off. You know the score.
You’re no martyr.
And you have no patience for those who say they are one.
There’s a fundamental problem for those who play the martyr. Real martyrs aren’t playing. They’re also members of the one and done club. If you’re coming back for an encore, you’re pretty bad at this martyrdom thing. And if you’re coming back for the twentieth time, you really suck.
Playing the martyr on the Internet is such a common practice it’s seemingly standard practice at some sites. Let someone look at someone else cross-eyed in their comments and/or tweets, and woe is he or she who’s been grievously offended.
By words.
On the Internet.
Oh the humanity.
As a sidenote, there are certain practices online that when looked at from a distance are most amusing. Up close they’re hysterical. Take for example perpetually hiding behind a screen name. It’s understandable for a single woman to use one as a measure of protecting their privacy, especially if they’re attractive as there are a lot of cretins out there. And if you want to use a screen name as a nickname, no big deal. I’ve used Diecast Dude when writing about NASCAR for years. However, I never kept my identity a secret. Playing Bruce Wayne/Batman in the blogosphere is silly immaturity. It also testifies you have no courage of your convictions, given how you haven’t the cojones to attach your name to them. But back to the martyrdom theme.
Being a martyr means dying, usually in as brutal a fashion as can be arranged, for a cause. Sulking because some meanies left nasty comments on your blog doesn’t exactly cut it. Despite this, the number of people drowning in their own tears while seated at a corner booth of the Candyass Café never fails to amaze. This is especially true in the political realm, where the moment someone gets called out for snobbery and/or stupidity it’s another chorus of the pity party blues. Boo hoo hoo.
A common defense mechanism is to immediately stereotype the opposition. Take for example Sarah Palin supporters. We’re Palinistas, so we’re told. We can’t handle the least little criticism of her. We’re a bunch of knee-jerk reactionary drone bullies.
Bull.
This junk that all Palin supporters are mindless zombies addicted to a cult of personality is condescending garbage. People who preach it are equally condescending. I’m a fan of Palin because of her policies. Her persona is great, but if she was a wacky leftie I wouldn’t support her. I like Obama personally. His politics? No. I like Palin personally. I support her for her politics. But I digress.
No one can stop someone from having a chip on their shoulder, the one that’s covered in tissue paper-thin skin. That said, people who live like that are standing on the shakiest of ground when they claim someone knocking said chip off is the cyberspace equivalent of being crucified. I already know the One Who actually was crucified, thanks.
You don’t measure up.
So drink your last cup of sorrow and then stop feeling sorry for yourself.
P.S. Speaking of a last cup of sorrow…
[video http://www.diecast-dude.com/gac/faith_no_more_last_cup_of_sorrow.flv nolink]
Excellent. I’m glad you said this.
I’m not so bothered by the screen names, but this isn’t the first time I’ve heard this opinion. I can’t hold people to a different standard than I hold myself, and “Darcy” is a screen name. But food for thought.