Am I a right wing Trump supporter?

A Friday night diary

People say a lot of things about me. Mostly wrong things. No one understands me is the childhood trigger I manifested in adulthood times a thousand.

This is also and of course the norm for anyone who is a public figure. Imagine being Joe Rogan. Or Kanye West. Or any statue. It is certainly the norm for anyone who is a controversial (and unpolished) figure, as I am ever-committed to being. After over a decade of being called things I am not, I have become mostly used to it. But not fully accepting.

I sometimes do not practice what I preach. Which is to ignore what people say about you, not let it bother you, not dwell on it, and not run yourself ragged trying to respond to and correct every misrepresentation, misunderstanding, or libel. It is simply impossible, for one. I would have to either become very litigious — which I don’t have the time, interest, or money to invest in as a pastime — or give up any life outside the internet. Just correcting the regular old misunderstandings would be a full time job in and of itself. I do it when I can, of course, and try to be as clear in my work and writing as possible, but the peanut gallery cannot be expected to follow all I produce, and, in the internet age, people’s perceptions tend to be based on what their friends say on Facebook rather than on the content of the actual book/argument/interview/talk/person in question.

Needless to say, every once in a while, a misrepresentation grates on me. I find this usually happens when it feels personal. It’s one thing for a Twitter rando to call me a Nazi, but quite another when someone who know does it.