My boy, now you’re pissing me off.

I don’t need to google a subject I understand perfectly fucking well. I needn’t brush up on a subject within which I have read and written extensively.

It is *you*, with your pissant arrogance and wilful ignorance that needs to take a moment out of your busy schedule masturbating and howling from the shit-slick rafters you swing between to inform yourself and meet *me* in the middle.

While you’re wailing about the imaginary enemies you perceive slighting and denigrating the ludicrous fictions with which you have saturated the world you wake up to every morning, there are very real and perfectly comprehensible threats to your puerile existence that will just as soon slit your fucking throat as hear you spit word one on the subject of their existence.

If you can’t defend your ideas but for getting upset at getting challenged, you are looking forward to the wrong future, little boy.

Look up the words you use. Try to understand the systems on which your fragile existence relies. You are being hunted, you fucking idiot. You’re screeching nonsense at the top of your voice in a world where you can actually make a difference.

To quote your own McCarthy, “When the lambs is lost in the mountain, he said. They is cry. Sometime come the mother. Sometime the wolf.”