I recently noticed that you scribed a review of the Lord of the Rings Musical seminar at the 2010 DragonCon in Atlanta, Georgia. Staying in your hotel room, I also know that you penned said review at about three in the morning after watching some Firefly. I vaguely remember you saying, “Hey Bob. Imma write this article now.” And I vaguely remember me thinking, “Maybe not the best idea” but then me saying, “Yeah okay buddy! Nighters.” Ah, the sweet ignorance of slumber. A place of solace where the world around you cannot exist if you so choose.
Well, James, then I woke up.
I opened up my proverbial morning paper and checked the editorials. I love seeing what Sally Goodwife has to say about that pesky new stoplight at the corner of Picket Fence Lane and Apple Pie Road. Maybe ol’ Farmer McCutcheon will have something vinegary to say about dems new carriage roads dey plannin’ to re-route through his artichoke patch and sitch.
Alas, James. No Sally Goodwife. No Farmer McCutcheon.
What should befall my eyes this grey September morn? Your “editorial” about the Lord of the Rings Musical seminar. Let’s have a little frank discussion, shall we?
1) I notice that you edit yourself using the word “f**k” the first time in your article. At this point, it’s important here to note the use of “first time” in the previous sentence. This is because you seem to… you kind of… well, you choose to “ignore” censorship for the next eight times of use. I wonder: what filled your soul with such blackness, friend? What possibly could have ignited your choler to the point of resorting to such harsh linguistic tendencies? I ask, because I love.
2) I wonder. Sometimes. About your use of. Sentence. Deconstruction and division. For the points. Of emphasis. Perhaps it is. A kind. Of. Series of strokes. Because of something that. Hurt your. Brainmeats.
3) Marie Antoinette’s cake? Really?!
4) Why ain’t we played Starcraft recently? I don’t pass it off as an excuse that you didn’t haul your PC desktop all the way here to Atlanta. Gaming is gaming. And if we ever want Platinum, you have to commit. COMMIT, GORRAM YOU, COMMIT!
5) Hitlerian appropriation? Is your turn-of-phrase textbook stuck in the historical reference chapter? And, by stuck, I mean because of the sticky saliva you expel every time you get mad at something. You’re like a geeky dilophosaurus, and I want you to sticky-shot every Newman that comes along and pisses you off. Still though: Hitlerian?! (As a side note: let’s all think about how much more terrifying the dinosaurs of Jurassic Park would have been if they were NAZIS. The T-Rex is Hitler, naturally, but I can’t decide if the Triceratops or the Velociraptor is Goebbels)
6) Your listing methodologies seem a bit inconsistent, and I think it’s because of your vitriolic wrath. 1) Pick one and be consistent; B) Never forget that your reader can get lost; III. Our readership is important here at pixelatedgeek, and we need to take them into consideration; and —-) I can feel the anger in you, the hate.
7) I love the word “Tolkiensian” but how the fluffbutter do I pronounce it? I would ask you, but it seems you might sticky-spit in my face while quoting The Silmarillion and screaming intermittently, “I’M TOM BOMBADIL BITCH!!!” In short, I’m scared :(
I only write this, dear friend, because I feel like I lost you a little bit last night as you gave into hate, anger, ire, violence, and — clearly — acidic expectoration. Please come back to me.
P.S.: Seriously, fuck that panel though.