A reader took sharp exception to my March 16 post, “Are We Too Old to Appreciate Cool Fashions?” and has since taken even sharper exception to everything else she has found on this blog. I wonder if someone has taken away her Play-Doh.
Her thinking, such as it is, leads her to conclude that I, personally, physically attack people whom I perceive as being divergent from my own point of view: “And I’m sure you would have beaten up anybody who was different from you.” Actually it’s the leftids and the college “students” who are doing that, these days.
My thoughts, she says, are “dusty.” My writing is just a lot of “elderly and cliched comments.” She doesn’t much care for you, my readers, either, characterizing you as “poor old people who have no real concept of modern life.” Ooh! That was the most unkindest cut of all! Nor does she like the “stupid cat videos” I post here.
I’m not even a good fantasy writer, but only a “crotchety elderly man who knows nothing of literary fantasy more modern than C.S. Lewis.” And as for you, dear readers, “You are all old fogeys.”
Feel the love.
She does remark that she isn’t trolling. Gee, you could’ve fooled me.
I hardly feel it’s necessary to answer any of this sad, angry, Calibanesque twaddle. But I can’t help wondering why such an unhappy individual would spend any time here at all, among people and content she detests. And do I really need to point out that the chronological age of any decently-executed fantasy is totally irrelevant?
Betcha anything she voted for Hillary.
So first we’re all deplorables, and now we’re all old fogeys. Wear those badges proudly, folks. If the people who gave you those labels were to esteem you, you could be pretty sure you have been doing something very wrong.