I’m watching the weather map, the spreading labor demonstrations and the PT schedule. The weather map. The spreading labor demonstrations. The PT schedule. Weather. Demonstrations. PT. What am I going to do?

Via Litbrit, we learn:

Anonymous has set their aim on the “graceless sociopaths” of Westboro Baptist Church, demands the organization stop, or face the hackers’ wrath.

My first thought was Happy Birthday to me! It’s not my birthday. My second thought was something about how it was about time someone took those ghoulish fuckers at Westboro Baptist downtown but not me because I’m trying to think peaceful thoughts. How about you, Godzilla?

Sweet – and my hands are clean. The Westboro Baptist fuckers: they’re true believers and their belief is tolerance of all things gay is bringing God’s wrath down on America. Who doesn’t think the same thing, except for the “belief” and the “all things gay” and that part about “God’s wrath”, but essentially those sadistic fuckers who bring their children along to the traditional picketing-of-the-military-funerals fun sound so normal you could almost mistake them your local PTA zealots or those true believers of the Condo Association, right? Yeah. I get confused. But here’s the thing: as much as I wish the Westboro Baptist fuckers would take up a new hobby that actually makes the world a better place by, say, making the world a better place, they have a Constitutional protected right to be the fuckers they are and say the things they say. I don’t have to like it.

In the article, however, one finds a little extra annoying carnage: the open letter to Westboro Baptist from Anonymous demonstrates a little me-thee problem.

Being such aggressive proponents for the Freedom of Speech & Freedom of Information as we are, we have hitherto allowed you to continue preaching your benighted gospel of hatred and your theatrical exhibitions of, not only your fascist views, but your utter lack of Christ-like attributes. You have condemned the men and women who serve, fight, and perish in the armed forces of your nation; you have prayed for and celebrated the deaths of young children, who are without fault; you have stood outside the United States National Holocaust Museum, condemning the men, women, and children who, despite their innocence, were annihilated by a tyrannical embodiment of fascism and unsubstantiated repugnance. Rather than allowing the deceased some degree of peace and respect, you instead choose to torment, harass, and assault those who grieve.

Oh boy.

Yes, those Westboro Baptist fuckers did those things. Yep, yep, yep.

Your demonstrations and your unrelenting cascade of disparaging slurs, unfounded judgments, and prejudicial innuendos, which apparently apply to every individual numbered amongst the race of Man – except for yourselves – has frequently crossed the line which separates Freedom of Speech from deliberately utilizing the same tactics and methods of intimidation and mental & emotional abuse that have been previously exploited and employed by tyrants and dictators, fascists and terrorist organizations throughout history.

ANONYMOUS cannot abide this behavior any longer. The time for us to be idle spectators in your inhumane treatment of fellow Man has reached its apex, and we shall now be moved to action. Thus, we give you a warning: Cease & desist your protest campaign in the year 2011, return to your homes in Kansas, & close your public Web sites.

I love Anonymous. In a short time, it’s grown from a little guy in a too-big Batman suit to a too-big guy in a Star Trek security suit. Hackers for free speech can’t silence detestable free speech. That’s like matter and anti-matter choosing a china pattern at Crackpottery Barn.

Westboro Baptist as a group is really, really small. Most of their disgusting protests are comprised of fewer than 10 starkly unattractive bigots. I’m not saying they’re harmless, but they sure could benefit from quitting the Flowbee and visiting hairdressers.

I think we can all agree on that.

Yesterday, I reported that lately fellow employees at the unnamed university have been resisting my naïve charm. I can scarcely believe it, but attend:

Mr. [Pool Schedule-Setting Guy],

I’ve been an unnamed university employee since dinosaurs roamed the earth. At some point in the future, when we all ride around in jet packs, I’m going to need a hip replacement. To train for it, I’d like to stand in a pool filled with four feet of water and walk for half an hour every morning. Since I work across the street in the library, I’d like it to be in your pool.

You’re about to recommend I go to another campus. Thank you, but no. I have no occasion to go to any other campus and for most of the year I commute to work by bicycle. Going to another campus would eat up all time I have to be in the pool, walking.

You’re going to recommend I take swimming classes. I do not need or want them. I do not need to swim. I do not need company or direction. Further, my mother taught swimming on a different campus in the seventies and I spent every Saturday in that [stinky] pool. I don’t miss it.

So what do you say? Should I buy a ridiculous Hello, Kitty! swim cap covered with plastic flowers and show up at 7 a.m. on Friday?

Thank you,
Tata

See how charming I am? I am freaking charming!

One major problem…
The [pool of my dreams] ranges in depth from 8 to 10 feet. I know you don’t want to come to [the pool far, far away], but the variable depth pool over here is perfect for what you are asking. What are your thoughts?

He seems nice, but he’d be a lot nicer if he just said I could have anything I wanted! I WANT THAT.

While it is true that I’m seldom 9 feet tall without an ego problem, I’m afraid that [the pool far, far away] is [far, far away]. Bicycling over there from [where I live] would mean dodging very serious traffic. On the other hand, getting hit by a bus would probably solve ALL my problems, I suppose.

Check your pockets, Mr. [Pool Schedule-Setting Guy]. You’ve got a pool [across the street] for me. Unless that’s actually lint.

At this point, you should remember that most people do not talk like me.

Re: pool accessibility I’m not sure I understand your last message. “Unless that’s actually lint”?
What pool are you talking about?

The pocket pool. I mean lint. See what I did there?

I suppose I meant inside your pockets. In some circles, my antics are considered amusing.

When dinosaurs roamed the earth or when I went to gymnastics camp in the gym in the seventies, there were two pools in the [gym across the street].

Writing tip: the writer has failed when she must explain her dementia is hilarious. Generally. But just in case you weren’t sure, the audience circles back and expects closure.

There is a tiny pool next to the main pool but it is only 2 feet deep and you would probably make yourself sick walking in such a small circle for half an hour. Have you considered the bike path that cuts through the park as an alternate route to [the pool far, far away]?

Yes, nausea as a route to improved health is a road lined with NO STOPPING OR STANDING signs. Ask any cancer patient. Thus I assured him I would keep asking for the same thing for the next 10-20 years and he should give in now.

In the meantime, I’m shopping for the most ghastly bathing caps to protect my glorious tresses.