The More You Ignore Me Read Free Page B

force myself to go to the computer to see what vile filth is cascading down the corridors of the internet unchecked while I’ve been away.
    And every time, I find that I am right! There it is! It is ALWAYS there—and worse than I imagined!
    Hear me out: Like everyone else, I wake up each morning. A deceptively simple phrase, true, but what a gift! I am grateful!
    This morning, for example, in the dank June air, consciousness broke over me like a pane of glass, and for a few minutes I felt free and clear of strife, anxiety, and horror.
    I thought I might take in a film or eat a nice apple, work on a screen or teleplay. In short, live my life. But then, I remembered.
    I thought of the putrid excrescence spewing out into the world as I was lying there, and so I lurched from my cot to my desk and I turned on the computer.
    Horror! Filth!
    I admit, because he is a crafty little devil, sometimes I think of the runty, Skittle-brained moderator and chuckle, Oh, that’s all he’s got?
    Sometimes I even leave the room, go buy my meager rations (as my submitted recipes indicate, I cook everything in my coffeemaker—instantly!—oatmeal, polenta, Tasty Bite Indian cuisine, rice; it’s an ingenious system, if I may pay myself that compliment, and quite cost-effective considering my “condition”), but while I’m out a phrase or even the subtle implication of a phrase inevitably comes crashing back into my mind, where it festers and oozes until I’m back at my “desk,” blinded by fury.
    I’m surprised I can even type. But type I must! And what does he want? Finally, what does this goon want?
    Only the complete annihilation of my person, my history, and, I suppose, my ideas.
    I believe he would kill me, given the chance, and so I am justified in my actions because it is a fight to the death. It is truly either him or me, and I am not one to back down!
    Why does he hate me so?
    Because I know that he has plans for the bride.
    Shocking?
    Yes.
    Quite .
    But you should know that I don’t level this accusation lightly or without merit. I know, because I did not let it go. No, I began to investigate further.
    As many of you know, I soon pulled back the floorboard in question and uncovered the stinkmaker, the sock-puppet handler, the chortler, the fascist, the overweening point C of the love triangle:
    Chris Novtalis!!!!
    Assassin!
    Yes, I was as shocked as anyone that it turned out to be the BEST MAN and WEDDING BLOG MODERATOR , who, I might as well make it plain again here, had (and has!) plans not only to degrade the idea of marriage, but to ravish the bride, Charli, and destroy her happiness with lusty violation in flagrant delicto !
    Those who do not study history, etc.
    I know at first you will doubtlessly find it at best curious that someone with coital plans for the bride would be such a vocal cheerleader for a marriage involving, primarily, his brother, but don’t let the blinders society has saddled you with restrict your reason.
    Remember the basics of geometry, my dears, for Chris surely does.
    He wishes to assume the role of C, to shoot his line straight through Charli’s B, obliterating Nico’s A.
    Squirp is the horrendous noise I imagine this act making.
    Squirp .
    Squirp .
    Squirp .
    Over and over again!
    For you see, Chris does not wish to expand the triangle into a pyramid, but rather to reduce it to a fascist line.
    Clearly, Chris wants this marriage to go forward simply so he can have dear Charli close at hand, as part of his “family,” and thus within his filthy reach in order to violate her repeatedly and at will behind the back of his sad, pathetic brother Nico (point A).
    This would, of course, simply be hurtful toward Nico and destructive to Charli (i.e., none of my business), if it weren’t symptomatic of the larger issues at play.
    Proof?
    My word is not good enough for you?
    Well, I can’t blame you, since most of you aren’t