Again with the Google Archives for hours. If I just keep clicking on
'find all posts by this author' and going wherever it all takes me,
you get deeper and deeper into this bullshit that stretches back
years. When this Dean Shultis showed up is when I realized how fucking
stupid it really is, as his posts interconnect with thousands of
others, each sending tentacles back and forth and up and down and
inside everywhere.
Karen, you are so goddamned full of shit I can't believe it. You've
acted with me as if you are an injured party, victim of this and that,
and come to find out, you have run probably hundreds of aliases on
usenet for at least ten years, maybe not hundreds but dozens and
dozens. Maybe more than a hundred, but that's not the point.
You turned out to be just as idiotic and lame-brained as every one of
"them", the boogie-men that you say have oppressed and abused you all
these years. I tried to figure out what was in it for you, when it
appeared at many junctures that you and your aliases were the main
figures who were arguing back and forth, or transversely, supporting
one another. It finally dawned on me it was all for the benefit of
two people, John Gilmer and the wheelchair guy!! The whole thing has
been about them. Getting their attention, interacting with them in
the only way you can..... it's stupifying. How much energy has gone
into it. I'm too old to label everyone as psychotic or mental or any
billions of nouns and verbs Usenet uses because behavior is mostly an
instinctive way to deal with one's environment. Humans create their
own environment and then figure out a way to live in it. That's what
you've done. We all do it. Some of us try to create an environment for
ourselves that is constructive in some way but not all of us are wired
that way. I get that.
But this whoever called Dean Dino x 10000.00 aliases, and you, and
Gilmer, are responsible for untold reams of pure infantile fantasy. I
especially liked the woman who portrayed herself as a mental health
professional. That was, even I have to admit, psychotic. How about the
woman who gave her cell phone number out that traced back to
Providence, Rhode Island? I found it on a long-expiered For Sale By
Owner listing. When the arguing got hot and heavy by the certified
posters, it was peculiar how many of the outted characters were from
Rhode Island. In the scheme of things, RI doesn't compute in a
statistical way. And there's also this character who posts from the
Bremerton/Silverdale area and has for a long time... taking the name
of an actual resident. The likelihood of 3 people from Kitsap County
all circling around Karen Anderson is so tiny that rational people
would reject it out of hand. If no one "here" EVER accepts that I am
a man named Jim who lives on Bainbridge Island, I don't blame them.
Not after reading that ever-deepening sin-hole called Archives. You,
Karen, have yourself run so many socks that you've dug your own grave
and live in it now.
At one time, I actually thought that the majority of the people around
here were themselves, and a few were aliases. Of course I see now that
you're the majority of them... and the regular patrons have shuffled
off to another group to pass the time of day as they are so goddamned
bored with the tilled ground they couldn't bear listening to it again,
it's so lame. What I find odd is that I'm more interested in digging
around in the trash barrel of Archives than I am in reading current
time stuff... today is all worn out and there's nothing new. Yours and
Gilmer's feelings toward one another aren't exactly fun or
interesting.
There's no point in this missive than just putting it out there for
whatever you may think of it as you read it. I don't malign you for
the decade you've spent here with this shit but I do see how things
can end up. As you were pulled deeper and deeper into this shit it
took over your life and became nurturance, which is natural, typical,
predictable. Ok. But the problem is, is when it's all over and all you
got is a handful of nothing to show for your decade. If you were kind
of alone and lonely ten years ago, and this shit filled up your life,
it didn't fill it with anything that has volume, know what I mean?
There's nobody to call from it, nobody to visit, nobody to be friends
with. Just a bunch of weird shit on the internet.
The individual posting as Dean Shultis, Gaspar, Dino, Troopervet, etc
etc, is a lost soul. A person who sees life in an ugly, violent, sick
way, and is found among us everywhere - it's just that we can see him
on the internet and we can't see him next to us at work or walking
down the street.
I've always lived in a kind of bubble. I developed my view of mankind
reading English lit when I was just a kid...the true nature of man was
described as metaphor in those books, not in a way a kid could
understand. I'm here at the end of my life slowly waking up to the
knowledge that the world really is full of fucked up, terrible people.
Sounds blithely idiotic to write that, I know. Makes me look like a
moron. I am a moron. Between the idealism of pre- and post-war Lit,
rock and roll, Seattle, and my own life spent bullshitting in the
company of fellow comrades in the bars, Black Ugly isn't something I'm
familiar with. When Evelyn Waugh wrote of the War, he never described
it. He satirized the politicians who created it. In a sense, I've only
seen the world on Plato's wall.
Oh, well. All of life is sadness. That's why joy seems so amazing when
it comes out of nowhere.
