Last night I had one of those dreams about someone completely inappropriate. Not in a 'yuk' kind of way, in a 'to go there in real life would be very bad' kind of way. Why do we do that? My imagination pairs me up in ways no slash writer could ever think of when I'm asleep, and I wake up wanting to scrub myself with lye soap. Last night's effort wasn't quite that bad, but I still feel a bit icky about it. It was only a dream, so why do I feel guilty?
Little voice: Because you're a dork.
Me: No I'm not, shut up.
Meanwhile, the forum idiocy continues. We have one one hand, a nutter posing as someone else, spamming 200 communities with libellous bollocks about someone nobody else cares about (can we say Your Little Vendetta is of No Consequence in the Real World?), and on another, folks spouting bigoted ignorance as truth. OK, the second one is Situation Normal, but sheesh! I thought pagans had the monopoly on persecution complexes, but apparently not.
It's kind of like watching a train wreck, reading the forums. It's repulsive, but strangely compelling. Can't... stop....
Oh and “Stupidity cannot be cured with money, or through education, or by legislation. Stupidity is not a sin, the victim can't help being stupid. But stupidity is the only universal capital crime; the sentence is death, there is no appeal and execution is carried out automatically and without pity." Robert Heinlein – “Time Enough for Love". Make of this what you will.