I am so tired of boring crazy people calling us crazy. Do they not realize how crazy they sound? This isn't an "it takes one to know one" situation, this is an "Alcoholics Anonymous" situation.
What I mean is, I have escorted many of my friends to AA, because I do that. What I have noticed without fail is that once there I am the subject of mass inquiry.
"Do you drink?"
"Well then you have a problem too."
No matter what I say, I have a problem too. To an alcoholic everyone has a problem, apparently. The difference with tedious crazy people, I think, is that they won't admit they are alcoholics. Even when they are "just sitting around, reading 'Guns and Ammo,' masturbating in [their] own feces" as David Mills so delightfully put it. I don't think they ever "just stop and go, "Wow! It is amazing how fucking crazy I really am!" They just point those icky fingers and say "It's you!"
( Halfway through writing this I realized I was singing "Let's Go Fly A Kite" and really enjoying it. I don't know what that means but it seems relevant. I suggest you do the same for this post's musical interlude.)
Thankfully this kind of garden variety crazy weasel is easy to spot once you know what to look for. They are cowards that hide behind their computers with no understanding of respect or boundaries. They flourish in SL, for instance (but are known as "haters" elsewhere). They travel in packs and are incapable of functioning alone. Basically they are everything you aren't and they hate you for it...but first they will love you so very much - too much, too fast - trying to worm their way in and find a way to break this exciting, new butterfly's wings. They can't have you change the status-quo or make them look bland standing next to you in their vacuum. Note that they only attempt to desiccate the best and the brightest they think they can get their hands on (...so if they are descending on you, smile). Sadly, like most lunatics, they can seem wildly creative. Unfortunately its just not worth it to find out.
It is startling and painful the first time or two a normal, healthy person encounters the Crazy Weasel. Frankly we just aren't prepared for their illogical and vitriolic teacup tempests. After that its handy to learn how to derender/delete in milliseconds. Personally, it took longer than I like to admit to learn that I am not a butterfly, I'm a Phoenix and these aren't wings, they are jets of flame.
I'm like Kid Curry now. I can eradicate a peanut from my world before you can say psyc--
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