Yesterday I had my first Twitter row. Made me feel like Perez Hilton.
But seriously, here I am, minding my own business, and out of nowhere, this guy with a profile picture of two lumps of marijuana demands I sign a petition to legalise handguns in the UK.
Now I tend to avoid political subjects. It’s a minefield – in this guy’s case, probably literally. I find that social media is a forum in which the dumbest shout the loudest. Everyone else just tends to shrug and get on with their actual lives, while the rest of the angry idiots write in block capitals about what they hate and how we should all feel about it.
Touchy subject, innit?
Uber-twat Trump piped up about Paris last month and said something along the lines of “if the victims had guns it would have been a different situation.”
Thanks for that, Donny.
So you’re in a club, watching a band. You’re a bit pissed and maybe you’ve had a shitty day at work. But you’ve got a nice little handgun nestled in a shoulder holster and that makes you feel a little taller, a little more like a man. You catch some guy at the bar checking out your girlfriend’s ass. You walk up to him and say “Excuse me, good sir, but would you mind averting your eyes from my future wife’s posterior?”
He says, “Fuck you.”
Now, you’re not a particularly good drunk – especially in your old age since your hair’s started thinning and your metabolism’s slowed to a crawl – and you know you should lay off the Jaeger-bombs, but Friday’s kicked in and you’ve spent the week working like a dog, so maybe you deserve a drink or two.
Everything’s a good idea when you’re drunk.
You pull the gun from your inside pocket and start that Dirty Harry speech you’ve memorised exactly for occasions like this. But before you get to the Six shots or only five part this Neanderthal motherfucker pulls his out. And it’s huge. I’m still talking about guns here, by the way…
Now you’ve got a standoff. In a club.
Long story short – you have to be some sort of bell-end to think that increasing the access to guns will make the world a safer place. You need to cater to the weakest link in the chain (i.e. idiots). That’s why we have drink-driving laws.
Plus, if you’re so stoned your Twitter pic is of two buds of marijuana, then maybe you shouldn’t really be carrying a gun around.
But this guy says it better than I ever could…
Watch Part 2 also.
There’s a saying on the internet – Don’t feed the trolls.
But, Christ, I couldn’t help it. Knowing he was going crazy whilst I had my feet up, watching an episode of The Sweeney was too gorgeous. Twisting the knife is possibly my worst trait.
Now this was the part of the blog where I was going to quote my hilarious retorts, but since he told me I’d be “On the first train to Auschwitz”, I decided to report him and now all his Tweets at me have disappeared.
His point was that guns are a natural extension of our primal urge to hunt, and therefore to deny us access to them is to deny our animal instincts. It told him “We’ve got Waitrose for that now.”
But he sounded more like a Morrison’s man.
It’s a natural animal instinct to fuck each other. So is he saying it’s okay to go around raping people?
Sorry I fucked your mum in her sleep – natural animal impulse. See it, like it, do it. That’s my motto.
Also, I ate your goldfish. Natural hunter, yeah?
What makes humans different is the luxury of conscious thought. Thinking “Hey, maybe I don’t have to kill that dog for dinner tonight,” or “Maybe I don’t need to beat my rival in lust to death with my bare hands.”
And if you’re that scared for your personal safety? Take a fucking Krav Maga class. It’ll keep you fit, too.
Taking this author thing seriously – what’s the point in trying anything unless you’re going to give it a bloody good go, eh? – he came to life in my mind. Sitting there, petrified that some terrorist (he didn’t specify from which group, just terrorist) is going to kick his door down and shoot him in the face. A new character!
So, inspired (and a little incensed), this afternoon I bashed out the first draft of a short story called Kevin’s Apocalypse. 3,000 words. I was pretty pleased with that.
I think I’ll lay off the Twitter feuds for a while (it took up 3 hours of my precious evening), but it’s always nice to know they’re there if I’m running out of material.