“… and no one can bother me.”

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An extremely important associate of mine, Soapjackal, asks:

 

“What is your online policy [for dealing with others]?”

 

My answer:

 

1} Say nothing online that you would not say to the person’s face. Now, I’m pretty ballsy, so that gives me some leeway, but I still err on the side of caution.

 

2} Keep in mind – the vast majority (~95%) of folks online have absolutely zero desire to sincerely communicate. They want to get attention, vent their spleens or both. Only extremely rare cases have any True desire to exchange ideas. Therefore, unless the individual in question has had civil commentary to date, simply ignore their words.

 

3} The stronger the desire one has to reply to a heretofore unknown commenter, the greater the need for silence. The German army used to have a policy of denying the filing of complaints prior to 24 hours after the impetus occurred. This is an excellent method to adopt. 99 times out of 100, within 24 hours one will completely forget the once inflammatory statement.

 

4} Never reply out of boredom or anger. If you’re bored – find something more personally productive to do with your time. If you’re angry – scream into a pillow. The internet is forever. The other solutions are not.

 

5} In the event you actually respond, maintain your calm, be polite, be civil and be as “boring” as possible. Stick to sheer facts and plain language. In the (highly unlikely) event the person reads your reply with interest and thoughtfulness, then a cogent debate will follow. However, more often than not, they’ll get bored and simply drop the conversation – thus, saving you precious time.

 

 

 

For better or worse, there’s my personal policy.

 

All the best to you and yours,

 

A♠

Ω

“… zero to 60; can it outrun her memory?”

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[It’s crept into my mind often, as of late.

 

This particular memory that’s carved into my brain like a Purple-Heart recipient’s scars.

 

Thus (taking its consistent resurfacing as a sign), I share it with you, dear reader, in the hopes it shall be of some help.]

 

 

 

 

It was well after midnight and I sat four or five houses up-road from her place.

 

I stared purposely through the windshield of my truck.

 

I was going to catch her cheating on me.

 

 

 

See, my gut told me she was being unfaithful.

 

The suspicion writhed, restlessly, deep in my abdomen; twisting and turning like an agitated serpent.

 

My instincts screamed in my head.

 

Sirens to the naivete lashed, like Ulysses, to the mast of my stalwart character.

 

I would heed them – and feed them – all.

 

I was prepared for war.

 

 

 

However, it was then that my strategist’s nature found its way to the surface of my thoughts.

 

Escaping the drowning pool of my vindictive rage, it asked:

 

What goal is to be achieved in this battle?

 

No general deserving of his rank fights for a purpose unworthy of bloodshed.

 

So, Sun Tzu of South Jersey, what exactly is to be gained in this conflict?

 

 

 

I sat dumbstruck.

 

I’d no satisfactory answer to give.

 

Self-righteousness?

 

Smug confirmation of victim-hood?

 

Justified indignation?

 

 

 

Which of those validated my efforts?

 

 

Neither a chest of doubloons nor a suitcase of $20s could buy back the seconds, minutes or (eventually) hours I’d spend attempting to snare her in her duplicitousness.

 

My time was more precious than any fleeting gain I may – or may not – garner by my jealous actions.

 

 

 

Most of all, however, I thought to myself:

 

If I trust her so little…

 

If I am so certain of her faithlessness…

 

If I doubt her honesty so much…

 

Why am I even desirous of her?

 

 

 

Quite frankly, if things have devolved to such a degree that I’m waiting in my vehicle in the middle of the night as if I were on a drug stake-out-

 

I should simply find someone new.

 

Hell, I could throw a rock, at this point, and hit a random woman that I’d trust more than my current paramour.

 

 

 

So I turned the key in the ignition.

 

Put my Rodeo in gear.

 

And drove off into the night.

 

Headed toward the sunrise of a brighter, new day.

 

 

 

 

 

Ω