I spent my rest day slacklining. Which I’m not terribly good at, but I was able to start from sitting most of the time. Also noticed that the two inch webbing, contrary to expectation, is way harder. Rock climbers are required to know at least one other performative sport, because for the most part they’re professional narcissists. (Editor: They?)
In between runs, I talked to Eric on the bench nearby about his Gold Wing. I friended him on Facebook, in time to see the flames of his discontent over the forums at Red River Climbing, with accompanying comment thread:
I feel Great! Today, I canceled my account on Red River Climbing. A [forum for rock climbers at the Red River Gorge]. It’s getting to the point where I really can’t stand rock climbers anymore. People on there are for the most part, so full of crap… There are a few good ones that use the site, but mostly, it’s just a bunch of drama hungry people that think their… (insert other word for crap) don’t stink.
- yuuup. fuck that shit.
- Dude, let C2C and all his friends, and all the rest of the drama babies rot! I’m over them!
After a quick visit, I realized that I have to retire my “Rockclimbing.com Theory of Climbing Forum Etiquette” which was that climbing forum users are flaming trolls because they have anonymity and only a very, very slight possibility that you’ll meet them in person. Given that the Red only has an effective population of maybe 300 at any given time, the forums at Red River Climbing, where you can post nicely for a climbing partner and get trolled, gave that theory a fiery troll death, a death that even the trolliest troll would be proud of. Even the trolls at Supertopo are nicer, at least after I scold them. I wonder what it’s like when they run into each other in Muir Valley. (Editor: I’m sure their response would be “I go to the places that aren’t in the guidebook to avoid the noobs.” Me: I think they’re 14 year old girls in China. Editor: Both could still be accurate… Me: But how would they know about Baby Deer? Editor: Baby Deer is the most famous thing about the Red. Baby Deer is already a main character in three state-owned cartoon programs and is also the star of a Japanese porno.)
That’s actually not the primary reason I find it interesting. What I find more interesting is how the Red informs my perceptions of homosexuals, or rather, my perception of homosexuals’ perceptions of other homosexuals.
Contemplate Kelly’s earlier post, in which he said:
when I showed up at my first HC convention I was really fucking nervous that this would be another gay event where we adhered to the classic gay stereotypes…everybody get fucked up, everybody sleep with each other, and everybody get dramatic about nothing.
To which I say, guuurrrrrrrrrrrrl, gay people don’t have shit on the heterosexuals at the Red, and I’ve been to Blake’s. I can’t even imagine what a RRG campground would look like if there was ready access to coke and tina, and I’m already afraid to go in the communal shower. Next time we convene at the Red, I’m going to force Kelly to spend one night camping in lieu of a cabin, kind of like the way they forced that homophobic Augusta State grad student to spend time with gay people so she could see that they were not a bunch of morally-bankrupt abominations, the only difference being that the purpose of this would be to show Kelly that straight people are morally-bankrupt abominations.
Although I understand she sued all the way to the 11th Circuit to get out of Augusta State’s nefarious plans to make her commune with gays, so I’m not sure I should expect to fare much better with Kelly. I would certainly fight it.
But this all gave me a SPLENDID IDEA. Nobody gives you publicity the way trolls give you publicity, and trolls LOVE talking about gay sex. Thus, I have to nefariously craft a post that will guarantee I get trolled, perhaps by including the following:
-references to gay sex
-explicit hopes that i won’t get trolled
This isn’t going to be easy. Suggestions are appreciated. I want this to be something bumped to the top of the heap for months by people debating various dirtbaggers’ sexualities, hopes for encountering lesbians, and questions over who could best deep-throat an Ale-8 bottle, the last of which would emanate from fake accounts set up by me.