Spent a good portion of the day today finishing up The Most Hated Man On The Internet.
What a douchenozzle.
At the same time, so you’ve got pics of your boobies on the Intertubes, okay. You haven’t shown those to me willingly, so I’m going to ignore them. You’re human; you’ve got them.
That they’re up there has no bearing on how I view you.
And no amount of litigation is going to make them go away. Very few things actually ever get deleted.
You can find pretty much anything.
I’m sure there’s shit I said on Usenet, or on mailing lists when I was a teenager that I no longer thing. Whatever.
“I really don’t remember that,” is an acceptable answer if someone asks.
That’s true for an asshole missive, or pics of your tits.
If it was last week, that might be a different story, but you have to allow people to present themselves for what they are now, not what they were.
Does that make me a bit inconsistent considering how I treat some commercial companies? Yeah. But I do treat individuals differently.
But the main message is that, no, everything doesn’t actually get deleted.
I understand this is a problem for those who want to carefully-tailor narratives; we have always been at war with Oceana.
But I do take extensive notes, hide things in places where they’re not easily-found.
But very little of it actually goes away.
Today is Fathers’ Day. I phoned my well-into-his-nineties’ grandfather, and texted my father-in-law.
Going to see my dad’s headstone is something I really don’t have the stamina for, unfortunately.