My fan in Ottawa has sent another death threat. I filed a report with the local police, who were less than helpful. They suggested that if I didn't want to receive death threats, that I shouldn't write bad things about people.

I let that slide, because the first ammendment is on shaky ground these days, anyway. Why argue your right to free speech with the police? Never, ever, going to win that one. So, grudgingly, it seems, they wrote a report and gave me a case number.

I asked if they would be contacting the Mounties and they said, in a word, no. If I felt so strongly about it, I could.

Well, for some odd reason, I do feel strongly about it. Call me crazy, but dying over a bad film review just doesn't seem worth it to me.

Here's today's question: Should I remove my rant about David Lynch and hope that satisfies my threatener?

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.

Many years ago, part of my workplace's corporate mantra was something about a single standard of care, regardless of one's ability to pay. It was a shining example of truth in advertising, because we did have a single standard: we treated everyone like shit.

We still do, but now we have taken it to higher (or lower, I'm not sure how that works) standards. We treat each other even worse.

Today I received a request for assistance from some poor schmuck in a fly-over state, who was looking for a medical expert to back up a cock-a-mamie theory of his in a (probably) frivolous lawsuit.

I sent the request over to our official designated responder to all web-delivered questions.

After a few hours, I got a response from her. In its entirety, the response said "I'm not going to answer this jerk." (Yes, boys and girls, the official designated responder is none other than our own dear Loogie, of the PR office.)

I sent her another e-mail, and asked, "Not even to offer the courteous reply of Sorry, but we cannot help you.?" It shamed her into doing just that, only without the word "sorry" and with a touch of condemnation in her tone, as she stated that we could not help him with his lawsuit.

I'm thinking of designing t-shirts that say "Demand Civility." What do you think? Would they sell?

I haven't been sleeping well. Too depressed. I stare at the ceiling, then at the glowing lights on the clock. When I finally get to sleep, I have anxiety dreams, with my own pantheon of archetypes. The unattainable lover, the high school clique that does not include me, being lost, trying to run and not being able to.

On the plus side, if there is one, I have no appetite. I've always made jokes about the High Stress diet, and how it is my only successful one. I ought to be in negative sizes by the end of the year.

I'm off to build a new web site from an old one. Chicken salad from chicken shit, speciality of this house.

The Rude Pundit is in rare form (even for him) this morning. Here's the first paragraph, after that, you should just follow the link and read the whole thing.

"Aww, yeah. It’s on now, motherfuckers, it's on now. Deciding that it was time to treat the Bush campaign like he treated whores in Saigon, John Kerry went to town on the President and the Swift Boat Vets for "Truth" in a speech yesterday to the International Association of Fire Fighters. In so many words, Kerry said, in essence, "Bitch, you talk smack about me, I'm gonna fuck you in the ass until you bleed. You wanna fuck with me? Don't send your attack poodles out - come at me like a man so I can turn you into the little bitch you are, you fuckin' deserter." Of course, nothing else Kerry said in that speech was reported, including promises to make up for the cuts in funding for new equipment that Bush has inflicted on fire fighters."

Some days, it's worth getting up, you know?

Other days, not so much. It looks like it's one of those other days in New York City, today (thanks to the Punk Princess for this):

"Mayor Michael Bloomberg, already under fire for his tough stance against anti-GOP protest groups, yesterday suggested that First Amendment rights of free speech and free assembly are "privileges" that could be lost if abused."

Excuse me? My constitutional rights are now privleges? Can you say "Fascist"? I knew you could. What an asshat. This is why I was leery of the POTUS's plans to move the military from abroad to stateside. It's hard to have a military takeover if your military is outside of the Fatherland, uh, Homeland.

Tromp. Tromp. Tromp. The sound of the jackboots in the streets.

Has got to be "no". Because nobody around my office ever seems to be able to figure out what it means.

Him: Do you have stock photography?

Me: Some. Seven disks of medical stuff.

Him: Anything else?

Me: No.

Him: What about other stuff? Other than medical?

Me: Uh, still no.

Him: Why not?

Me: Other than this is a hospital and all I do is the hospital web site, and have no use for other stuff? Or other than nobody buys me stock art?

Him: Well, I want to add graphics to the web pages I'm designing so that I can give them to you to design.

Me: Please don't.

(Me, thinks: thank god it's my night to work out with Nic Cage. And then go home and drink.)