Category: Weblogging

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I get private email communications all the time based on my postings, and most are great.

Sometimes people will write because I have made a typo or a grammatical error, and I really appreciate this. I prefer not to make these kinds of mistakes, but can get excited when I write and not notice the problem at first. These kinds of emails are very helpful.

Sometimes people will send gentle notes to let me know I’ve gone over the edge, I’ve lost my perspective, or I’ve been unnecessarily rough. Again, I appreciate this. I am nothing if not a passionate person, but I genuinely don’t want to be mean or cruel, or pedantic or tiresome. Only a friend would take the time to let me know that I’m heading in a direction they know I’ll regret at some point.

Sometimes people will want to agree or disagree with that I write and want to chat offline. Well, I consider this a treat. I am a richer person by hearing your views, and being allowed to discuss mine. Most sincere thanks for this gift of time you give me.

However, there are times when I get people who want to say hurtful, vicious, demeaning, and abusive things offline. By doing so, they can dump on me but still maintain a persona of sweetness and light with the world. This passive aggressive technique is, to me, about one of the most dispicable things a person can do.

When people (a very few people) indulge in these sorts of emails, it leaves me tired, hurt, and very touchy. Then I react online and the rest of my readers haven’t a clue why I’m so cranky, or why I’m reacting so strongly to certain events. Or worse; they wonder why am I lashing out at such as generous and kind hearted person.

I don’t like getting emails that tell me that I’m sick, I’m sad, no wonder I’m single because I’m such a bitch and nobody would have me, I’m a loser, I have no life, or today’s particular treasure which stated that I blamed this person for all the problems in my life, and that this was pathetic.

Say what? No offense to any of you, but none of you have that kind of power over me. But these kind of emails wear me down.

So, here’s my new plan. I’ve replied to the sender of the recent email the following:

No more. If you want to talk with me, do it in public. No more of these personal attacks in my email. If you’re so proud of what you have to say to me, say it in public.

I have received abuse from this person for months. Next time I get an email from this same source, it goes online. And this person is more than welcome to print anything I say privately online if they wish. I am not ashamed of what I write.

There is a difference between disagreeing with a person and abusing them. And I’m tired of being abused.

Thanks for your time. End of management memo.

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Words have power. A word said in one context is just a word, but in another context lights the fuse to a bomb.

“word”

KA-BOOM!

(Crispy fragments of confused wonderment)

Power words are given their power through worry, fear, anger, insecurity, sadness, or hurt. Especially hurt. Nothing gives a power word more energy, more kick, more bang per syllable, than hurt.

Unfortunately, there are different power words for each of us, and pity the poor person who says the word or words in the right context and releases a veritable torrent of reaction.

What’s difficult for the unwary is the circumstances surrounding our acquisition of a new power word are such that we don’t particularly care to share them with the world at large. So some poor sod can be walking happily along and between one sentence fragment and the next, the ground quickens beneath his or her feet, and “SLURP!” — they’re sucked into the vortex of power word wipeout. It’s not a pretty sight.

Luckily, wipeouts leave visible marks that trace around the power word, forming chalk outlines on the psyche, warning signs to touch not the weblogger.

Not that I have any words. Not me.