If you don't want to read my rant, you can just skip on over to the rant that this ordeal has inspired.
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First off, I'm posting this in my journal because, to me, this is about to get personal and I don't want to leave an ugly comment trail all over someone else's stuff.

In case you don't want to take the effort of reading the comment trails that have already been created, I'll fill you in. submitted something that I personally felt was much more of a rant/bloggish entry than an essay. Without attacking his actual content (in fact, agreeing with him), I pointed out that it was not a very polished piece of work. I even labled it as spam that should be kept in a blog (such as on his personal website), or in a journal.

I guess he didn't like that.

After he responded to me, I realized that it was kind of a meanspirited way to tell him to "Get the fuck out" I went back and gave him advice for how to change the things that I, personally (and by "personally" I mean "Every Teacher In My English Department And Then Some") would make his work seem more professional and easier to read through.

Not that it would change the fact that this particular piece was, in fact, ranting spam.

I then went on to reassure him that I wasn't attacking his ability as a writer, answered some questions that were interesting, and concluded with a happy face.

But things can't end there.

Apparently, when confronted with an angsty teenage child this man who is nearing an entire half century on this Earth feels the need to make sure I'm entirely happy.

After repeating questions, bending over backwards to make sure I wasn't angry, etc, etc, I finally propose the following question:
Why am I so perfect that you can't tell me to sit down and shut up like any adult should do to an upity kid?.
Seriously. Thank you for reading my comments and giving them concideraton. But honestly, every rhetorical question you ask (and then go on to answer yourself, as if I couldn't figure things out myself) you imediately lather me with pretencious bullshit to make sure you didn't hurt my feelings.

Look, its not the end of the word. Telling me our opinions won't make me go Virginia Tech on your ass. PLEASE stop kissing my ass to keep me from getting hurt by your Big Opinions. If you have something to say, say it. Stop kissing up.

You should kiss up to important people in your life like a Boss or a Pissed Off Date. Not to some lame teenager online. You should respect me, not feel so inferior that you scrape your head on the ground bowing to me. Seriously, I'm not that great.

Now you've asked quite a few questions, and I'll take the authority invested in me by The Internet, This Website, and Myself to say that this is my Final Answer.

"Once again, I am interested in the details of your definition of an essay, both in general and on DA."
I already said, but I'll repost it here: Anything which you are getting paid or graded to write is an essay! That or which-ever topic makes you burn with desire to share, and prove your points and spread your opinions to others.
In general AND on dA? They're the same. dA does not grant special powers to change the criteria of an essay any more than my cellphone does.

"What about my essays are unfinished, unpolished? What is the criteria? Length?"
Your OTHER essays are perfectly fine. Good job.
But, as I've already stated, and you've already agreed with me on, this one is different. Please stop bending statements and assuming things to make me look like the Bad Guy. I do enough stupid shit to get that label already, I don't need help. Seriously, I wasn't attacking you. Just saying that this particular piece sucked, and how it did so.

Respond to this as you will, but stop double talking, stop treating me as God Himself, and tell me what you want to say. I will not come and butcher your family becaue you shared your opinion.

Scouts Honor.

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On a related note: Also, this.



I'll post some angsty poems on monday to make sure everyone gets it out of their heads that I'm some cynical hardass who eats babies and glass for lunch.
I'm just some emo, get off my back. Heh.