When it comes to comment threads, I don’t partake. Maybe it’s because I’ve never been a joiner . . outside of of that one summer in high school when I went with my girlfriend to a nude beach and almost went blind. Worst ten minutes of my life. Or maybe it’s the expectation that bloggers need to immerse themselves in the thread if they’re true bloggers. Like, who in the blessed hell comes up with rules like that? And are they the same peeps who decided it was okay to allow anyone onto a nude beach?
To paraphrase the late, great Vito Corleone, it makes no difference to me what other bloggers do. If they write a post with the express written intent to grow a thread, that’s their business. But for me? I like to keep things simpler than Simon on a budget.
So it went against my norm when I began reading comments on YouTube recently. You see, reading comments on this platinum patch of piddle earth is seriously redundant shit. As it is, you age five times faster as soon as you log onto the site thanks to all the time you’re usually wasting. And while this may not be scientifically proven (yet), Imma go with it.
It gets worse. I even began commenting to certain comments, which repulses me more than I can tell you as I read this sentence back to myself. I’ve kept my thread count to a minimum on the platform, since I’m usually logged on to find somethings (Yes, plural. I’m a professional). But as with any site worth its ad revenue, you’re gonna stumble across more rabbit holes than a Warner Brothers cartoon. And I have.
And then this happened . . .
On April 9th, Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh died at the age of 99. On the same day, superstar rapper BMX died at the age of a lot younger than that. In life, you would be hard pressed to find two more disparate individuals. In death, it was the same. Because whereas Philip died of 99, BMX died of a drug overdose.
And then I clicked on a tribute video to Prince Philip and while you may be thinking that makes me uncool . . more to the truth it’s because I’m uncultured. I knew way more about BMX than I did about a man who lived a history book. After the video had concluded, I scrolled down. One comment after another paid tribute, not to Prince Philip but to BMX. And many didn’t leave it at that, nope. They disparaged Philip while mourning a rapper gone too soon. As if the Duke of Edinburgh was responsible for the demons of a man he never even met.
I was perilously close to throwing down on these cretins before I realized it was my fault for having visited the comment thread in the first place. It was as if the Universe had tapped me on the shoulder, imploring me to Stay in your lane, schmuck! For one thing, I was honored that the Universe had taken time out of it’s uber-busy day to personally reprimand me. And for another, the Universe was absolutely right.
And for one last thing . . the Universe sounds a hell of a lot like Mel Brooks.