2001-07-29
�Recently someone brought to my attention something very interesting:
�"I was reading your athiest
diary and found it to be very insulting and angery. What if someone read this
and got the wrong idea? What if they did something stupid because of it? Don't
you think you have a responsibility to your readers who read this vile garbage
you're spitting out?"
�My answer is simple:
No.
�This publication, for better or for worse, is me. It's the
truest parts of me. I don't write this for fans. I never did and will never do
such a thing. To deter my self expression because some dumb fuck might go blow
his head off or beat up a nun is robbing me of my right to be an individual.
There's always going to be some fuck stain out there who will listen to your
bold verbal meanderings, find some sort of fucked up hidden truth in it, and go
slash up a kiddy at the local play ground in the name of Allah. Boo fuckin hoo.
It happens every day. If not here, somewhere else. If not now, some other time.
Something was already bound to come along and slap this pussy right in the chops
with a screw ball epiphany.
�I take no personal responsibility for those who graze the
text spilled from my thoughts. I'm not your fuckin' baby sitter. I will not
alter my thoughts and feelings in fear of creating another Ted Bundy or Albert
Fish. And if I do? So be it. We could use less people in the world anyway.
