I recently told my friends that, if they needed my help on Facebook, they could summon me. Let's be real; I'm a brawler, by nature. If I'd been born to parents who were less serious about teaching non-violence, I would probably have gone into MMA or something. As it is, I am happy to pop into any thread where a troll is making issues, and put the verbal smack down on them.
So, the other night, when I was informed that a friend needed a hand on her thread, I hopped over to see what was going on. Turned out this jerk had shown up and started throwing insults around, so I swirled my red flag in the air and brought him snorting around in my direction.
I was expecting... I don't know. Either an actual debate on the topic at hand, or possibly a few derogatory remarks thrown my way. But what I got was so far beyond the pale that I just sat there and stared at it, stunned.
I can't show you a screen cap, cause I didn't take one, and the comment got deleted by the owner of the thread. But, to the best of my recollection, it went something like this:
Oh look, the Queen of the Freaks has shown up. Honestly I'm appalled someone hasn't taken your children away, because you still live with that abomination you married.
I'm not sure I have the prowess as a writer to capture the emotion that surged through me as I read that. I was so angry I wanted to vomit. I wanted to rake into him with my fingernails and rip his guts out. I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp and then, once I had his attention, tell him that if he ever put his vile words on my family again I would make him really regret it.
I'm a violent person, y'all. I've never claimed otherwise.
I didn't do any of that, though. Instead, I thanked him for proving my point--who sinks to character attacks when they have actual valid arguments instead?--and then went and told everyone I know that I needed a new t-shirt.
When I was in college, we did a production of Sideshow. For those of you that don't know, Sideshow is about two conjoined twins, and their rise as Vaudeville performers. Their career began in a carnival freak show, and the show opens with a haunting and angry song "Come Look at the Freaks."
Normally productions of Sideshow get a little extravagant. The costumes for the carnival performers alone are a bit much, with false beards and snakeskin and all kinds of nonsense. But our director chose to go the other way. The "freaks" were all just normal people, being themselves. And the "normal" people in the show all wore these bland half masks that blurred their more distinctive features. All in all, I thought it was a beautiful and poignant commentary on normality.
So, while I still wanna pummel that asshole, I'm more than happy to take the title he gave me. I probably don't deserve the crown, but I would do my best to live up to the honor of being the Queen of all the people who are authentic to themselves, regardless of how the rest of the world views them.
And I made myself that damn t-shirt.
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