Well, friends, I've really made it into the big leagues! I've got my
very own impostor on Twitter. You know, Twitter, that thing that only self-promoters and high-school students use? Yeah...
Anyways, I've sought to correct some of the stuff posted about me by responding on Twitter, but it kind of bores me, so let me debunk some of the silliness on here. Is this beneath my dignity to validate with a response? Is it trying too hard to be funny but coming off as pathetic? You betcha.
But I'm waiting for a pizza, so I might as well give it a shot. Here goes.
- I didn't meet my fiancee on Craigslist. I'm not engaged -- still officially in a relationship on Facebook, though that might change some day -- and I only dated three women from Kansas City. (We went to the movies, the library, and Chipotle, respectively.) I met my girlfriend at a free-speech/academic conference in Philadelphia where I was a speaker a few years back. (That's actually where the photo the impostor stole was taken.) I found out she lived in L.A. and asked her out. The rest is history and, if I'm lucky, perhaps it'll end as a Shakespeare comedy.
- I didn't buy a mattress off of Craigslist. I bought two mattresses as well as lots of furniture and appliances. I disinfected all of it and always slept with the sheets on. I don't apologize for being poor and I won't apologize when I'm rich. I don't ask for sympathy for being poor, nor will I feel guilty when I have gotten mine. I'm not, after all, a liberal.
- I didn't cause a race riot at high school. The school's response to a free speech conference where we defended Bill Bennett's right to speech caused a day of classes to be suspended where a bunch of liberal teachers asked students how they felt as black students, multi-racial students, etc. after there was a dust up. Some black students -- though obviously not all -- on campus seized upon the temerity of me saying that I think students should be treated equally on the basis of their race was racist. Go figure. I challenged a bunch of them to a debate and won.
- I wasn't a source for anything The Boston Globe ever wrote. That's a rumor that comes from my cheating ex-girlfriend who is about as reliable a source as she was a girlfriend. (This is kind of a long story how it got started, but I figured she couldn't be trusted, so I told her I was and wanted to see how fast it got around. Apparently, almost as fast she did.) When she got to campus and people found out that she was Charles Johnson's girlfriend, she tried to disassociate herself from me by making things up about me. Kind of lame, to be sure, but hey, there's a reason she's my ex.
Just who is following my imposter's tweets? A man is known by both the friends -- and the enemies -- he keeps, so let's go through a short list:
- A student government official who promised a lot and delivered none of it. (Yeah, she's a Democrat.) Though I like her as a person, I repeatedly called her on it. Nothing personal, but I think that the press should actually, you know, criticize the government.
- Andrew Bluebond, easily one of the most dishonest students on campus and despite the gender studies' major he clings to, something of a jerk to women. Bluebond famously once defended government schools while omitting that he went to a higher-end private Catholic school. When I called him on it, he told me to shut up.
- My ex-girlfriend. Need I say more?
- Lowell Reade, the head of an anti-Israel group on campus that fancies the fiction that Israel is an apartheid state. (I happen to actually like Lowell, even though he has some batty politics.)
There's a crucial difference between me and my anonymous interlocutors. I tell the truth and attach my name to everything; they lie anonymously. That's why this Twitter page is a perfect metaphor for who most of my critics really are -- cowards who traffic in sloganeering snark all the while dreaming of being witty.
That his tweets are broadcast in 140 characters compounds the beautiful counterproductivity. It's as if this writer decided to help me out by playing into the stereotype of the anonymous cretins who dwell in the comment section. Thanks for gift wrapping the present!
Ah, but who do I return the package, too? But hey, if anyone knows who is running that page, I'd like to know because if there is one thing cowards hate it is having to explain themselves to their peers. I might even throw you some cash and, as per always, I'll keep your name secret.
Let's make the final weeks fun.
