I Love Daddy Warpig!

A gamer of my acquaintance, but one for whom I have love and respect, has recently been singled out because of his association with me — we appeared on a podcast together, and, horror of horrors, he complimented me — and is now subjected to the Alinskyite method of attack, which is, namely:

(1) to select a single visible target for a whole movement (in this case, Daddy Warpig is a stand in for the strawman version of Gamergate, that is, the evil misogynists hating haters of hate and not the real Gamergaters, persons annoyed at corruption and collusion in the gaming review field)

(2) to isolate that target, so that friends and associates avoid him

(3) never argue the facts; only pour on irrational and unanswerable accusations.

If you accuse a man of being a thief, he can embarrass you if he asks you what he has stolen, but if you accuse him of eating the Moon, hating all women (including his mother), contributing to an atmosphere of violence, and making you feel unsafe, there is no answer to this nonsense because it is nonsense

(4) human beings being what they are — fallen half-beast half-angel — the crowd will then avoid the pariah, and anyone who touches the pariah is himself a pariah. The link has only to be alleged. One touch of the smallest finger will do, and all in the crowd are expected to flee from the pariah, the leper, and woe to whoso flees the most slowly, because he too can be accused. Anyone can be accused. Accusation is the weapon. It is the only weapon.

What is the rational response to such unreason? What is the honorable response to such dishonor?

I hereby touch Daddy Warpig and freely take on his cooties.

I heap scorn upon such childish, dishonorable, craven, unprofessional and uncouth villains, caitiffs, scolds, base cowards, wretches, warlocks, morlocks, rabbits and wargs who dare to slander this man.

I stand with him and against you. I hurl down my gauntlet at thee.

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