This is a celebration of sorts, two hundred blog posts. This is it #200, maybe a little cheating a couple of re-blogs not many so this is it 200. What do I want to do?
Balloons? Confetti? Pop a cork on some cheap champagne?
Nah, none of that (maybe a little), in fact I have a different agenda in mind entirely. I want to talk about manners, courtesy and the rules of engagement within the context of the blogosphere. I want to talk about rude people, crude people, self-entitled people; those who believe they don’t have to watch their mouths, wipe their feet or mind their manners in your house. People who don’t understand the concept that your blog is in truth your house, somewhere you get to make the rules, where you are under no obligation to post their comments or allow their comments to remain caused me some surprise.
The idea people would stalk a blog just waiting for the opportunity to pounce was a new one on me. The first time it happened, honestly I thought it was an anomaly just one of those things brought on by an obnoxious discussion on a different blog. I figured, well this is simply the price I pay for allowing myself to be drawn into a ridiculous debate with a person who is of no consequence to me, the price? What I thought was one-time visit and another ridiculous discussion.
Then came the most recent muddle, I was drawn into the discussion again. I considered that I was snared by this very same person because despite previous experience I refused to believe the evidence of my own eyes and experience; that is, I gave this person the benefit of the doubt. I considered that perhaps it was culture; I discarded this idea after discussion with several people from the same part of the world. The fact is, we all speak English and while we might speak the language differently; manners, civility and simple common courtesy are the same the world over.
Then I realized, no this person is simply one of those people who believe they are entitled to pollute, believe they are entitled to sprinkle their bad attitude, pepper their myopic worldviews and scattershot their self-righteousness wherever they please. What gave me a clue? Well, the last exchange was personal, not only was it personal it was an attack it was one that attacked me based on my history, suggested I wrote disingenuously, further suggested that while it was ‘sad’ I was shot ‘or’ raped I should just ‘get over it’ and stop writing about it non-stop since everyone had bad things in their lives to deal with but didn’t let it make them bitter.
I deleted this post on my site. This poster suggested any response I made would be to my other readers, those who agreed with me of which they were not one since they would not be reading it.
This exchange got me thinking. I considered responses but mostly I considered why anyone would behave this way. It isn’t the first time I have seen this behavior, only the first time in what is usually a more courteous, calmer environment. This type of behavior I would normally have assigned to the hit and run of public sites such as Facebook or some of the unmoderated chat rooms.
With that being said, this is my response to these exchanges.
This is my house. You are not required to agree with everything I say; in fact, I welcome debate on those subjects where it is normal to debate. My rules apply though and they are simple.
- Be courteous in your response, whether that response is to others or me.
- Never assume I won’t respond to you simply because you are responding to another poster.
- Stay on subject. Really, the post I write are generally about one thing stay there. If I wanted to talk about something else I would have written about something else.
- No name calling or personal attacks will be tolerated, ever.
- I will give you one warning, then I will put you in moderation till you clean up your act.
This really is my house. When I come to your house, I will always try to be courteous. I will wipe my feet at the door. I will smoke outside. I will put a coaster under my glass. I won’t curse (despite my ability and sometime propensity to do so). In turn, have a little respect and show some manners I know most of you have some broughtupsie.
In the future, I am going to try hard not to let people derail me, offend me or hurt my feelings in my own house. I will also not allow them to come into my house and offend you. I hope you will tell me if they do.
For those of you who have visited me in my house through 200 posts, thank you so much. I adore you, appreciate you and am glad you are here. Thank you for allowing me to use my 200th for a rant.
My Parents Made Me: all of them, each in their own way contributed to how I view relationships both inside and outside of family. Most people only have one set of parents, I have three and half sets each individual added to who I am over my lifetime. Of course, my biological parents contributed my DNA but more than this, when I met them in my twenties they gave me a sense identity. My adoptive parents showed me the world and expanded my opportunities, they also taught me survival instincts and unfortunately hate. My adoptive father and my heart mother taught me the most important lesson of all, don’t settle for anything short of real love. My heart mother made me more compassionate, she taught me to see others with empathy and to forgive shortcomings, she taught me to heal.
was different. World travel made me look for adventure, excited by new stamps on my passport and miles in my airline bank. Travel wiped out the jingoistic attitude we Americans so often have that cause our “Ugly American” reputation worldwide. Travel seeped into my blood and spirit at a very early age, I have had a passport since I was six and never let it expire. Travel taught me there is wide-world out there that think and do differently than me.
even when she cracked my knees to bend them properly. I loved dance I specifically loved ballet. I loved the discipline of it. I loved the movement, I would move furniture in the living room and dance when no one was home. I would practice form in my bedroom using the window as my barre. Dance taught me self-discipline and beauty.
Awards are tremendous, especially when funky town seems to be the address on all the junk mail. Awards just make you feel better, lift up your spirits and stroke you spine. Awards are nearly better than the first cuppa coffee (note I said nearly cause nothing, not one single thing on the face of earth is better than that first cuppa joe).
QBG_Tilted Tiara 