I hadn’t gotten any good hate mail in a while, but suddenly I got this juicy one:
Your embarassing style of “look at me” loserhood, your political beliefs, your “I’m so into violence and bumper stickers, I wish I had the balls to put 88 and 14 words on my website” can all be analysed, broken down and directly attributed to the same cause.
Your father was a wimp.
Damn! Attacking my old man even. That ain’t right.
Anyone confused about the reference to numbers, that has something to do with Neo-Nazi symbolism I believe (it was brought up once on Best of the Web). If anyone could enlighten us in the comments section, it would be appreciated.
Now, I’ve heard people call my father many things, but not a wimp. They guy is a Vietnam Vet, used to repossess cars in South Central L.A., and, even though he’s getting up in the years, I bet he could still kick my ass. But, I’m assuming who wrote this probably ran into one thing on my site and isn’t very familiar with what I write as a whole, so let’s play pretend.
I’ll set the scene: Along with humorous commentary on my blog, I also share stories about my dad’s courageous battle with Parkinson’s disease. So, when I get an e-mail calling my father a wimp, I assume the person had been reading my site and is making fun of my father’s condition. Thus, I respond first with confusion and sadness followed by righteous anger.
Action!
I don’t follow all you’re talking about, but why in the world would you insult my father? I share stories of his fight against Parkinson’s to give strength to others, not so some degenerate can insult him about it. I’ve never been so disgusted.
-Frank
Short and simple. I’ll tell you if she responds.
What does 14, 18 and 88 mean?
To start with 18 and 88, they’re both just reflecting initials, as in reference to a number in the alphabet. The 1 being A and 8 being and H. This could also be recognized as part of the strong link between Nazis, fascists and symbolism.
In other words, you’ve got 18 for AH, which is the initials of Adolf Hitler, and 88 for HH, short for Heil Hitler.
The fourteen words where first uttered by David Lane, after talking to God about how to win the battle for his folk. This was done after Bob Mathews was killed by feds, the sentence are, “We must secure the existence of our people and a future for White children.”
This is what I found.
Blog War Geneva Convention:
Article:
Parents shall not be brought into the fight, excepting when their actions intrude on the BloggleField.
(is that a word?-ed. Not yet. Wait and see)
Exceptions:
Any reference to a “son of a bitch” or “bastard” is understood to be a reference to the Blog-Warrior and not the parent.
Clearly neo-nazi skinhead pukes. In my humble opinion you should not even lower yourself to acknowledging these people. They are the bacteria that feeds on the shit on the bottom of your shoe.
Wow, sounds like this chick could use some looser panties. Mother would be proud her.
Blog War Geneva Convention.
Article:
Posted disagreements, comments or e-mails shall be called “Letters of War”.
Such Letters of War are acceptable, and must be answered on their own merits.
Hate Mailers are not accorded LOW status, and may be excoriated, humiliated or ignored.
Frank,
Good response. It’s clear the sender is clueless as to what your site is about. I probably would’ve gone further, as to humiliate the sender’s rather idiotarian belief system, but your response was much more, shall we say, tolerant?
Too funny frak.
Jennifer –
Nicely done with the info on the numbers. I had no idea what that little mindless Helen Thomas – wannabe was trying to say. She’s clearly out of her damn mind.
Frank –
Excellent response. Understated, yet underhanded and sneaky. I likes!
Good response, Frank!
Yeah, good reply frank. She’s probabaly a member of Gun Control, Inc. or a simmilar terrorist group.
You’ll let us know if she responds?!
Who cares? She’s not worth the calories and electrons it took to type this….kind of like the people who look at my Nuke the moon shirt and think it’s serious. ( really, they get worked up over it !)
( Besides, the numbers thingy….I think 14 is her age, and 88 is her family’s combined IQ’s )
Don’t sweat it, Frank.
Aaah, this reminds me of a moment long long ago.
I’m a tall-ish (5’11”) and very thin guy. From the age of 17 to about 32 I weighed 118 lbs.
(I’ve magically gained some weight in recent years, but am still thin at 155 lbs.)
I eat a lot, more than some of my more rotund friends, but have a screaming metabolism.
Anyhoo, when I was about 19 I worked at the corporate headquarters of CALDOR — a defunct discount department store in the northeast. People — strangers, mainly — would constantly quip about my thin-ness while we were in line at the company cafeteria. One day I’d had enough.
I was standing in line at the cash register with a tray of stuff like a double cheeseburger with all the fixin’s and a side of mashed potatoes with gravy and some bowl of vegetables and a slice of cake or pie or something.
Some guy behind me says “Doesn’t your mother feed you?”
I turned slowly and, with a pained look said: “My mom’s dead.”
The guys smirky face turned to ashen shame and concern in a heartbeat.
Then I told him I was joking. He wasn’t amused, but he never spoke to ME again!
The e-mailer deserved this, just as Tuning Spork’s colleague deserved what he got.
Sometimes you can do a good turn by dropping a hint to someone about just how much of a . . . jerk they are being.
Of course, what with the numbers and all, we could well be facing a lost cause–she may be past any kind of reason.
Just another damn TROLL. Ignore her, Frank.
Spork, your story reminds me of the time I got a call from some telemarketer trying to sell me dance lessons. She went on and on until finally I said, “So, your dancing school can make me into a regular Fred Astaire?” She said they certainly could–to which I responded, “Well, first how are you going to get me out of my WHEELCHAIR!” Boy, you should have heard her sputter out the apologies. Hee, hee! I’m EVIL!
Obviously it was a typo, and the writer was
implying that you lack the balls to post the
lyrics of the great 80s song by the Nails:
“88 lines about 44 women”.
Simple misunderstaing I’m sure.
I love that song. But if the Nails did it, it was a cover, no? I remember the guy who did the original . . . just can’t remember his name just now.
There are 88 keys in a piano keyboard, and 14 days in a fortnight.
Sheeesh, do I have to explain everything here?
The symbolism is like, so obvious… if you’ve been doing crack, which is what this chick appears to have been doing.
14 is when she learned to read and 88 is when she finishes highschool