I can neither confirm, nor deny that I am in fact D̵̡̮̻̗̖̮͔̜͈̙͖͙͍̺̀̒̍̌̑͐̓͡å̴̲͍̋̉́̀̑͊̎̐̊͡l̴̟̭̳̄̅̕͝͠͝ȩ̸͚̼̘̫̺̻̬̻̮͖̣̬̖̠̗̎̌ ̵̯͕͛́͋͌̀͝͠ͅͅG̷̛͈̩̟̟̠͓̗̘͓͍̽̒̌̔̓̈͗̐̈̿͠͠r̷̘̞̹͂̀̑̋̀͌̍͗̆͝͠͝ͅi̶̡͔͖͍̟̲̮͑̎͌̀̎b̵̡̢̹̗͔̗͍̘̣͊͊̑͒̍̑͌̽͋͌̔͝͝b̷̭̩̩̣͙̺͎̱̗͙͚̩̈́l̸̛͎̼̟̋͆͆͗̓̓̓͘͟ĺ̶̼͇͎̫̮͎̣̳͉̯̊̆̂̓̄̍̃̚e̶̢̡̛̫̣͈̺̾̅͐̾̓͒̚ͅ.̴̫̞̥̒̈̇̓́̾͗̒́̉̔͑
Gun nerds deserve being laughed at for getting upset over it and so do tech nerds.
People are allowed to ridicule me for nerding out my passion pompously, or any sort of perceived sincerity, for that matter.
I’ve always held that sincerity alone shouldn’t implicitly justify immunity from ridicule, but the ridicule tends to work if isn’t sincere in its own right.
What’s better is using it as a handy way to temper my own zealotry.
Complaining about people complaining does get old fast, however.
I will die on this hill. Their down votes mean nothing to me. I’ve seen what makes them cheer.
There’s vermin furries here?
What is Israel supposed to do? Passively standing by and watching their hostages being impregnated?
No, obviously not.
Killing international aid workers, Palestinian men, women, and children indiscriminately doesn’t seem like a viable solution either and calling everyone who criticizes your military policy “anti-Semitic” is not what you should do either.
Static typing, for the win, and I’ll die on this hill.
Getthefuckouttamyfacewiththisridiculousbullshit.