Son, we live in a world that has message boards, and those message boards have to be posted by men with keyboards. Whose gonna do it? You? You, Lt. BeachBum? I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly fathom. You weep for Strick, and you curse the moderators. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Strick's post, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall, you need me on that wall. We use words like divisiveness, self-absorption, pettiness. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent posting on something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very message board entertainment that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a keyboard, and start to post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to.