Aug. 2, 2015

Ignorant Is As Ignorant Does

(Laughin' . . . Because It's About All I Can Do Under The Circumstances.)

Mariah Carey? Act Your Age, Madame. You're 45. And That Same Number Is In Hot Pursuit Of Me. Come Late November, God Willing, It's 'Bye-Bye 44.' Don't Sit On Twitter And Act Childish And Silly. Alright?
You Know Good And Friggin' Well I Don't Sing, So Don't Symbolically Invite Me To Step To No Mics, Madame.
If Your Latest Tweet, Hashtagged 'Obsessed,' Had Been Referring To My Post Back On July 30th, It Was Quite Lame Indeed.
I'm Not At War With You, Madame, So Don't Come For Me As If I'm JLo Or One Of The Others. I Am NOT Obsessed In The Least With Anyone. So Don't Even Try It.
Since I Was In The Twitter Neighborhood, I Took The Time To Visit Your Timeline. And It Was There, Upon It, That I Was Able To View That Silly Tweet. And When I Chose To Reply To You, As A Result Of It, My Reply Failed To Appear In Your Mentions.
Now That Can Mean Only One Of Two Things: You Have Either Imposed An Internal Block On Me, Or Silenced My Tweets Via Mute.

So, I Took The Liberty, My Dear Lady, Of Imposing A Blatant Block On You From My Own Account's Options.

(Breathing A Sigh Of Relief)

Well, I Guess That's Done Now. I Better Not Ever Hear From You, Mariah Carey. Because I've Never Done Anything Harmful To You. I Have Obviously Been Quite Inspirational Where You're Concerned, And I Spoke Truthfully. I Did Not Lie On You. Not One Time.

And If I Were You, 'The Mic' Would Be The Last Thing That I Would Seek To Exalt Myself In, Under The Mist Of Arrogance – What Considering That You No Longer Do 'The Mic' Justice, Vocally.

Don't Ever Come For Me, Mariah Carey, Because If You Do, I'll Have You Sheddin' Tears.
And Don't Invite Me To No Damn Mics, Because My Calling In Music Is The Ink Pen And The Blank Page . . . NOT The Mic.

Be Informed, Mariah Carey, That My Use Of The Headline 'Why YOU So Obsessed With ME?, Had Been For The Sole Purpose Of Stressing A Vital Point. It Was Intended To Expose You In This Light: You Accused A Certain Man, Whom I Will Not Name Here, Of Being 'Obsessed' With You, But Your Very Behavior, Over The Course Of Three Years, Towards Me, Has Been Nothing Short Of Obsessive In It's Nature.

So I Wasn't Trying To BE You. My Only Intention Had Been To Make A Point. And I Made My Point.

And Seeing As That You Went Ahead And Posted Such A Tweet Only Confirms My Earlier Witness: You Were Here On My Site . . . Again.

Don't Act Like You Don't Urinate And Evacuate Like Every Other Human Being, Mariah Carey, Because You Do. Who The Hell Do You Think You Are?

My True Witness Must've Really Troubled You, Huh?
Madame, I've Only Ever Sought To Befriend You. But You Didn't Want A True Friend; You Preferred Sycophants . . . And Men-Pleasers, In Order To Feel Good About Yourself. And I'd Made You Aware, From Day One, That I, Cat Ellington, Had Not Been Sent To You For That Purpose. Neither Did I Need Anything From You, Considering That I Am A Woman Of My Own Means.
But My True Witness Obviously Troubled You. I Didn't Need Your Professional Or Monetary Assistance Then, And I Don't Need Your Assistance (Of Any Kind) Now, By The Grace Of God.

And You Know It, Don't You, Madame? And You Also Know That A Place Of Being In Your Shadow Is Not One Appropriate For Me, Cat Ellington, Don't You, Madame? And For That Reason, You Could Not Receive Me. Could You?
Be Careful, Mariah Carey. Because I'm The Last Person You Want As An Enemy On This Earth. And What I Mean By That Is This: If I Can't Help You, I'm Not Gon' Do Nothin' To Hurt You. But You're At War With Me Without Just Cause.

Indeed, You Are A Bitter Pill And A Hateful Soul - If There Ever Was One.

You Obviously Made Some Ill-Advised Decisions Over The Course Of Your Career, Madame. And You're Full Of Hatred And Regret And Bitterness About Those Ill-Advised Decisions Today. But That's Not My Problem, Because I Hadn't Been There To Encourage You In Those Decisions. But I Seem To Be The Only One You Want To Take Your Hate Out On.

Allow Me This Last Thing, Madame: You Gave Up. You Gave Up On The Craft Of Songwriting. Didn't You? Because You Desired To Be A Songwriter And ONLY A Songwriter. Didn't You?
But You Gave Up. You Put Your Diaries Down And Gave Up On The Craft. Didn't You?
You Sold Out And Gave Up On The Greatest Craft In The World. Didn't You?
God Had Blessed You With The Wisdom Of The Craftsmanship, But You Gave Up On It. Didn't You? Didn't You?
You Had It. And Then You Lost It. Didn't You?
You Were A Damn Good Craftsman In The Art Of Songwriting, But You Were Tempted To Heed The Lying Words Of The Wrong People, Who Insisted That You Abandon The Craft. Weren't You?

Is That Why You're So Bitter And Malicious Towards Songwriters Today - Particularly One Named Cat Ellington? Huh?

You Gave All Your Rights Up. Didn't You?
You Walked Out On Songwriting, Just So You Could 'Shack Up' With 'The Mic,' And In The End, 'The Mic' Failed You. Am I Not Right, Mariah Carey?

'Invite' Me To Step To A Mic Agaaaain.

I Know Good And Damn Well That Pathetic Tweet Was Directed Towards Me - In Response To My Post, Headlined 'Why YOU So Obsessed With ME?,' Dated Thursday, July 30, 2015.

You Don't Wanna Have A War Of Words With Me, Mariah Carey . . . Because I've Never Lost A Verbal Battle.

I'm Through Wit'cha Now.
You Can Gon' Get Cho'self A Stiff Drink.

— CE (I Got Two Initials, Too, Madame)

Cult of Ignorance Illusions - Friedrich Nietzsche
Used By Permission.

*** Update On Saturday, September 5, 2015: ***

It Should Be Stressed, My Beloved Men And Women, That Contrary To The Beliefs Of A Few Who Wish To Voice, Via Text, That Young Ms. Ariana Grande Had Been The Target Of The Aforementioned Tweet, She, In Fact, Had Not Been.
The Tweet Had Not Been Indirected Towards Ari.

'Puss'n Boots'