I’m not a bully.
Really, I’m not.
I am a lot of things. Not all of them of them nice, and not all of them things of which to be proud. You have probably read a lot of what I am if you follow me here even on a hit-or-miss basis.
I’ve been called a three-year-old, and I ran with that, although I’m the best-educated toddler you ever met.
I’ve been called a dick – see below – and I don’t necessarily dispute that, although I completely disagree with the reasoning behind the name-calling on that particular occasion.
I’ve been called stupid, by members of my own family, and I long ago shook off that silly and incorrect label. Obviously I’m not stupid. I mean, at least I don’t have trouble updating contact information on electronic devices and I don’t repeatedly text landlines. So I’m obviously way smarter than the ding-bat who laid that number on me.
My point here is this:
I’ve been called names in my lifetime, as, I’m sure, we all have. And some of them were accurate while others were questionable at best. But I’m going to lay this one to rest because I’m tired of its misuse, and moreover…
IT DOESN’T EVEN APPLY TO ME.
Twice in the last month I’ve been called a bully.
So let’s look up the definition and see how I measure up.
What is a Bully?
Bully: (noun) a blustering, quarrelsome, overbearing person who habitually badgers and intimidates smaller or weaker people.
- Do I bluster? Yep.
- Am I quarrelsome? Sure.
- Am I overbearing? Probably.
- Do I habitually badgers and intimidates smaller or weaker people? Nope. Not ever.*
For one thing, I don’t badger or intimidate anyone, regardless of their size or strength. This accusation would indicate I go to someone else’s house or playground or Facebook page – that I seek out people in their own space – and then get in their faces. I don’t go bother anyone. I stay right here in my own house, on my own computer, and I state my {admittedly heated and controversial} opinions right on my own Facebook page or within the confines of this here bloggy-blog.
In essence, I put up a yard sign and glower from the porch. Then other people come onto my porch and get in MY face and call ME a bully.
Which, you know, defines irony. And stupidity.
Small and weak people need assistance.
So these people climb up on my porch and then call me a bully and then basically refer to themselves as small and weak.
But, the thing is, I’m renowned for helping the small and weak. It’s kind of my thing. It’s called ANTI-BULLYING. And I’m a big fan of it. I don’t truck with small and weak people getting stepped on.
It’s why I stand up for the poor and minorities of all sorts.
Of course, in a maddening turn-about, my opinions on the matter of the poor and minorities are often what get me called a bully.
So let’s just get this straight, okay?
There are small and weak people – such as the poor and minorities. And they get shit on regularly. And I shout about it on my Facebook page and on my bloggy-blog. Then someone decides my opinions are incorrect, and comes to visit me in my lands, and tells me I’m bullying them for shouting what I believe.
Oh, and while they call me a bully, and tell me how wrong my opinions are {which is perfectly fine; they don’t have to agree with me; they have the freedom to be as stupid as they please}, they talk about the poor and minorities in a debasing and – dare I say it? – bullying fashion.
So. Bullies are bullying the poor and minorities. And to raise your voice against such apparently makes you a bully. Which, by this cockeyed thinking, means…
EVERYONE IS A GOD DAMN BULLY.
I can’t even try to understand that math because it’s dealing with imaginary numbers and also the most fuck-tarded way of thinking I’ve ever encountered.
I’m not a bully.
That much is clear.
Oh – let me clear up one other thing. Remember that time I said I only state my opinions in my own land? That was a bit of a fib – but only a little one. And I think you’ll agree with my reasoning here.
Sometimes a friend will say something that I completely, enthusiastically, 100% agree with. For example, that a Ghostbusters remake would be stupid, and moreover that a Ghostbusters remake with an all-female cast would be particularly horrid.
And, being friendly like I am, I might stop by and give a thumbs-up, or comment something to the effect of,
“OMG I couldn’t agree more ZOWIE What a shit idea HOLY MOLY I am on your team!”
Following this enthusiastic exchange, someone else might join in by calling out my friend. And I might begin to get argumentative, then, on my friend’s page, because why the fuck would you go post something shit-tastic on someone else’s page, unless maybe you’re a bully?
Actually, we can stop saying “may” and “might” because this really happened and it was all stupid. I’ll tell you about it more in detail later, but here’s the gist:
Friend {on her own page}: I think this idea would be rotten.
Me {on Friend’s page}: Agreed!
Naysaying Asshole {on Friend’s page}: Why do you think that way, you terrible humans?Friend {still on her own page}: Reasons.
Me {still on Friend’s page}: More reasons.
Naysaying Asshole {still on Friend’s page}: Reasons not good enough. Burn in hell.
Buddy of Naysaying Asshole {on Friend’s page}: Burn in hell and choke on it.Friend {still on her own page}: …
Me {still on Friend’s page}: No burning in hell. No choking. No to all of that.Me {on my own page}: WTF is happening over there? Meep.
Naysaying Asshole {suddenly on my page}: Dick.
Buddy of Naysaying Asshole {suddenly on my page}: Horrible parent.
It’s true. I argued with those people on someone else’s page.
But (a) I didn’t seek them out, and (b) they started it {don’t forget I’m a three-year-old, so I can get away with this argument, especially when it’s true}, and (c) they were, in essence telling my friend and me that we aren’t allowed to have our own opinions about a movie or its cast.
Which is an asinine thing to get heated up over, I agree, but apparently it means a lot to some people to stick an all-women cast into a Ghostbusters remake and is worth bullying folks over. I don’t claim to understand. I’m just here to observe. And get blustery.
I think it’s clear I’m an opinionated, overbearing individual. Or, as I like to think of myself, glittery. But however you choose to phrase it, one thing I’m not is a bully.
I’m more like a “Leave me alone and play nice among yourselves!” kinda gal. Shouting about things – particularly inequalities – does not make me a bully.
Picking a fight with me in my corner of the interwebz, calling me out, and basically hoping I’ll shut up and sit down:
That’s bullying.
That one time:
* When we were kids I bullied the people of My Language Land. But that’s an imaginary place made up by my sister and everything was made out of chocolate so it doesn’t really count because you’d eat them, too. I only add this note in the interest of full disclosure. I bullied imaginary people who kicked me out of their land. And I ate their chocolate dogs. The End.
- Do people call you a bully?
- Are you a bully?
- Would you eat imaginary chocolate dogs?