Die, Film Critic, Die

As I start this entry, I don't have a title for it. Eat the corn from my shit was my first thought, but that's the punchline, and I need to save it for later.

Another idea was "Threats Will Never Silence Me", because that's what this is all about. Over in the other part of my website, I have a short stack of rants. They are, or are not, in utter seriousness. I have, on occasion, been known to argue for the sake of argument and not because I feel strongly (or even weakly) about the topic at hand.

One of my rants is about how I despise Paul McCartney. It generates a fair ammount of hate mail. Another rant is about the nano-second people: you know, those folks who NEED to push ahead of you in any line, who honk their car horns the microt the light changes from red to green, and who merge ahead of you, rather than behind you when the highway narrows. Still another is based upon my disdain for the talent and reputation of the film maker David Lynch.

It is this last which has caused some asshole loser in Ottowa to come unhitched. For the last year or so he has been sending me death threats. I've reported him to my local authorities, his local authorities, and to every web mail service he uses (as you may imagine, that changes with some frequency). I have blocked him from my e-mail, but when I changed blog servers, my e-mail server changed as well, and sure enough, not a full week in, there is another threat from this one-handed typist. (Oh, come on, you know what I'm getting at there.)

I know, believe me, I KNOW that I'm not supposed to engage in dialogue with someone so unbalanced, but tonight... well, tonight, I'd had a drink, and there he was and I just replied without thought.

I quoted the late, great Leapin' Larry Greene. The complete text of my e-mail is below.

"You loser, you can, to quote my old pal Leapin' Larry, eat the corn from my shit."

I know that this is going to end badly. I don't think that he'll actually show up here and do as he threatens: put a bullet behind my ear, but the way this year is going? Who fucking knows.

Anyway, if any of you would like to entertain yourselves by sending hate mail to someone who must not get any other kind, feel free to address it to:

.(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)

And as far as I can tell, Mark Fleischhaker is his real name. He is a singer, it would seem, for some random punk rock band in Canada that doesn't have a web reference more recent than 2002. (XL Birdsuit, if you really care. I know that I don't.)

And that, except for a rather evil session with Nic Cage, was my night.