Day One Redux
Writing about a visceral dislike of someone—or of a group—is a tricky business. From one side, you’re bound to hear from that whole group of people who’ll say you should know better, that you’re “too good” to incessantly—and, all too often, cryptically—piss and moan about something when you haven’t shown the courtesy of letting your readers in on the full story. On the other side, excoriating pathetic, mediocre people in writing feels really, really satisfying when you know they’re reading (for reasons, this far along, known only to them).
The prognosis? The tirades won’t happen often, but they’re not going to stop altogether, either. A happy medium, in the absence of several dozen well-deserved punches to the face for a slew of people who most assuredly deserve that and then some.
And this time, if you think I'm referring to you, you're right.