Insulted by Amateurs

This week on Twitter, I was attacked through nasty personal insults from a caustic clan of boisterous bullies. One person wrote that I was “Trash,” and another called me “old and ignorant.” Yet, another witty wordsmith told me to “eat a giant turd for breakfast.” The most painful accusation came from a person who claimed I wasn’t a humor writer. Ouch. I’d send him one of my award-winning, bestselling humor books, but I doubt he reads books without pictures.

What egregious sin prompted strangers to ridicule me on Twitter? I legally and correctly offered my opinion about the Caldwell School Board meeting where the agenda included a discussion about new rules for transgenders that would allow biological males into the girl’s bathrooms.

A writer on Twitter, Jared DeLoof, expressed disdain for conservative objections to the proposed rules. It’s still a free country, so I wrote this response: “More than 1,000 concerned citizens arrived but couldn’t get into the meeting. What is extremist about parents not wanting biological males in the girl’s bathrooms?”

Mark at @MarkRichins1, a transgender supporter, immediately responded and asked me this question: “How do you know if someone is “a biological male”? What happens for XXY kids? Or kids born with ambiguous genitalia?”

I responded:” I really don’t want to get into this, but I must reply. I gave birth to a son and a daughter. I noticed the son had a penis, so he was a biological male. As for the examples you mentioned, what are the statistics? I’ve been alive seven decades, and I haven’t met them.”

That prompted this sweet response from @Manders719:  “Bless your ignorant heart Elaine.” I prepared a response, but she blocked me. So did @Sisyphus43. Apparently, bullies now use a drive-by approach to conversation. Write something nasty, then block the recipients so they can’t respond.

I also commented on a Tweet from Boise City Councilwoman Lisa Sanchez. She moved away from the District required to retain her seat, so she can’t be on the Council. I wrote a true statement about the racist comments she has made. Some locals weren’t happy with me.

Happy RINO @FredWaddel wrote “You’re supposed to be a humor author and this is the best you got? Might need a job change. Try the IFF.”  Oh, Happy Rino, why would you write that to a funny grandmother with heart disease?

An “Antifa Whisperer” at @AntifaWhisperer said I was “Trash.” I find a certain irony in that statement considering how Antifa trashed cities across the country.

@Thomg57 said my “white privilege was hurt.”  I think he found that line in “Liberal Insults to Own the Man.”

There was an obscene comment from @Plasstastic., a guy using the clever name Elon Musky: “Hey Elaine, Eat a giant turd for breakfast.” I reported the tweet to the real Elon Musk.

Here’s one more example to prove the tragic death of wit. Meowmix64 wrote: “You’re too old to still be this ignorant.” I’ve never met this woman. Yes, I’m old and have numerous traits, but ignorance is not one of them.

Why do these people have the right to say whatever they want, but I am condemned for expressing my opinion?

As a free public service, I will teach these struggling, spitting writers how to better articulate their personal grievances against this goofy, misunderstood grandmother. Here’s a blog post I wrote a few years ago. Obviously, they didn’t read it.

Lamenting the Loss of Literary Insults

At a recent live production, the word “motherf***er” was spoken, much to the delight and approval of the audience. I cringed at the offensive profanity, proving my lonely status as an ancient but lovable old fart. William Shakespeare, the great English poet and playwright who died more than 500 years ago, created a similar insult in his play Titus Andronicus with the words, “Villain, I have done thy mother.” Isn’t that better?

Profanity is mainstream in conversation, online sites, books, movies, blogs, and most school playgrounds. But some of us still refuse to write the f-word, and I resort to asterisks because I can’t do it. The word is brutal and vile, and lacks literary and lyrical language used in outdated manuscripts. Consider more of Shakespeare’s eloquent insults:

“You scullion. You rampallian. You fustilarian. I’ll tickle your catastrophe.”

Who wouldn’t be destroyed with this quote from Falstaff in Henry IV? Any fool can call someone a “son of a bitch.” To truly humiliate a foe with words, try this quote from King Lear:

“Thou art a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver’d, action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch.”

Shakespeare’s talent excelled beyond the boring insults of “asshole” or “creep.” His characters hurled creative verbal abuses such as “cream-faced loon,” “moldy rogue,” and “a toad; ugly and venomous.” Shakespeare was brilliant for destroying a character’s reputation with a single zinger: “Your virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese.”

My current agitation with the decline of proper language was triggered by an official description printed on the registration form for a national nonfiction book award: “Entrant, or it’s duly authorized representative…” It’s elementary for this association to review its knowledge of basic grammar concerning “it’s” and “its.”

I’ve discovered that some current literary techniques and basic grammar rules are being discounted in favor of “creative license.” Imagine a book titled, “For Who the Bell Tolls” or “As I Lie Dying.” Does it make you cringe? Or, am I a useless curmudgeon, smacking my ruler on the knuckles of last century’s students?

I would love for some young writer to reply to my anguish by using some of Shakespeare’s more infamous insults:

“Thou elvish-mark’d, abortive, rooting hog!”

“Thou sodden-witted lord! Thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows!”

“Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat.”

“I’ll beat thee, but I would infect my hands.”

Yes, I would appreciate the label of “luxurious mountain goat” over the crass and trailer-trash accusation of being a “motherf***er.” To paraphrase the Bard, to curse with wit and elegance or not to curse; that is the question.