Since communication through PMs has proven to be fruitless as evidenced by your dodging of my question in our previous correspondance, I hereby post this in public in the hopes that you will once and for all explain why it is that you have a problem with me.
As you may recall, you once PMed me with a message:
I just want to congratulate you on your ability to produce the amount of spam you do. I know it must have been hard to get number one spammer, I mean poster, but good job. You are an inspiration to noobs everywhere. I wish I could spam like you when I grow up.
You then proceeded, to completely undermine your complaint, as I found my PM inbox filled with exactly 18 copies of the exact same message.
To this message I sent my reply:
I just want to congratulate you on your ability to produce the amount of spam you do.
...I\'d like to congragulate you on the amount of flaming you do.
I know it must have been hard to get number one spammer, I mean poster, but good job.
I\'m sure it must have been hard for you to go out of your way to waste my time like this, therefore I thank you for this...garbage.
You are an inspiration to noobs everywhere. I wish I could spam like you when I grow up.
That\'s it. You\'ve hit a nerve there, Huff. No one, and I mean no one says that. You don\'t know what I\'ve had to overcome to get this far. You\'d never understand. You and you\'re all high and mighty friends.
I am not a SPAMmer, and I will not become one.
I then informed you that I would be forced to tell the good Doctor. I then proceeded to do so, and though I could percieve no action to have been taken on DC\'s part--which was probably the right course of action to take, after all what else would Dr. Cossack have been expected to do?
I returned from to my inbox later to find yet another message from you.
...Why are you doing this Huff? I\'m sorry. I\'m going to have to tell Cossack.
What am I doing wrong? And you can tell Cossack whatever you want. If i really wanted to get on I have other computers to use. But this is the first time i am visting this site in a very long time and don\'t come here often anymore. But come on, look at yourself. You were at a point where you posted like 30 times a day. The \"Today\'s Posts\" doesn\'t even go that far. Well good luck with your perpetual spamming. I guess I alone can\'t stop you, but my friends can. They work for the government.
I was shocked, what had I ever done to you to deserve this? Nonetheless I delivered a reply to you.
...Why are you doing this Huff? I\'m sorry. I\'m going to have to tell Cossack.
And you can tell Cossack whatever you want. If i really wanted to get on I have other computers to use. But this is the first time i am visting this site in a very long time and don\'t come here often anymore.
But come on, look at yourself. You were at a point where you posted like 30 times a day. The \"Today\'s Posts\" doesn\'t even go that far.
You don\'t know a whole lot about the Today\'s posts page do you?
Well good luck with your perpetual spamming. I guess I alone can\'t stop you, but my friends can. They work for the government.
I\'d love to continue this conversation, but I don\'t feel like getting insulted any more. Welcome to my Ignore list, \"friend\".
I was shocked, appalled, and...hurt to say the least. After all, unknown to anyone I had made a vow to try my very hardest not to be a spammer! And yet here I was, being accused of that very crime! I was not merely being accused of being the lowest of low, I was being accused of failing at a goal which, as far as internet goals go, I prized above all else. To top it all, I was being accused of that by one I had once held as a friend.
Know this, Huff. I considered your words. I didn\'t discount them. It puzzled me. It bothered me. I had been questioning myself around this time as well, you certainly weren\'t helping. In my insecurity, I turned to other members of the board in search, not of comfort, but of hard reality.
http://www.interordi.com/mboard/viewthread.php?tid=8670
There. Read it.
Long have I changed since those days a year ago. Perhaps for the better, perhaps for the worse. I don\'t know. No longer do I have that fear hanging over me, that nagging doubt following me. I had at last, considered the issue dealt with.
I was wrong.
After a week\'s vacation, I log in to see the cheery message of a PM. My first thought is: \"Oh no! I hope someone didn\'t try to ask me something at the beginning of the week!\" After all, they would\'ve been waiting for a while. Instead I open it to find a PM from you, dear friend. Entitled: \"My Hero\". Were you trying to broker peace between us? Trying to replace the emnity between us with friendship?
My hopes, it seems were in vain. For I opened it, not to see a friendly message, but instead to a letter drowning in sarcasm and bitterness. As if my presence on the board compelled you beyond all control to lash out at me yet again.
To Mr. Mega X.exe.
Dear sir, I just wanted to let you know that I idolize you in every way.
You may not remember me, but I used to post frequently on this wonderful site. However, the real life soon intruded and I, as they call it, \"grew up.\"
However, it is good to see that you have in no way even attempted to mature...at all. It helps me sleep at night that there are still some people in the world with absolutely no life whatsoever; people who can dedicate their pitiful. worthless existence solely toward the accumulation of posts.
In times of great distress, I can always take comfort in the fact that the proletariat still has there champion in you. You give the simple-minded hope in your slavish dedication toward this completely meaningless \"goal.\"
I salute you Mega X.exe, and my you never mature.
Not that I think that\'s a problem.
Oddly enough, I don\'t recall hearing about your attacks when other people had the top posts, therefore I am either to assume that you\'ve started your bitter crusade just after I took that position, or that your beef with me is personal.
Therefore my simple question to you: why?
Why do you feel the need to bother me with such petty complaints? Do I need you to tell me the meaning of my existance? No. Do I care about your opinion of my existence? No. In fact, it is curiousity--and a sort of pity--that compels me to ask you these very questions.






