There seems to be a certain sort of person who roams the internet these days who has a specific disorder that may have heretofore gone undiagnosed. When I was this person's age, this type of person would have had the everloving crap beaten out of them on a regular basis -- either by parents or schoolmates -- until they either changed their behavior or died. Therefore, I have no "real world" experience with such an individual. However, due to my many hours on websites such as this one, my crack team and I may have learned something that might be of value to future Internet Psychologists (as I feel sure this will be a burgeoning field in medicine one day soon).

In order to personalize this research, I will give the subject a name. How about "Nutdish"? It's a good Germanic sounding name which rolls off the tongue with both ease and vigor. And it also reminds me of Christmas, my favorite time of year!

Nutdish's main complaint is lack of approval. He desperately needs approval of his actions as well as his worldview, but that approval must be given by someone Nutdish regards as a "superior". A massive intellect such as his could never be sated by a pat on the head from any of the Brazilians of idiots roaming the world today. (Exactly how many *is* a Brazilian, anyway? Oh, well. Not important. I'll look it up later.)

No, Nutdish has turned malevolent precisely because there is no one in his world whose intellect can hope to hold a candle to the fiery furnace that he calls his Blow Torch of Truth. Actually, he just shortens that to "blow" for the sake of brevity. So he takes his Blow with him everywhere he goes and is constantly disappointed that Joe Blow, the Man on the Street or the Girl in the Sad Cafe, just walks away from him when he begins to bestow on them his crucial worldview. It is like that cartoon where Al Gore is trying to tell everyone about ManBearPig, but in Nutdish's case the crisis is a Brazilian times greater than global warming.

And then the Internet appears. Surely Nutdish can find someone on the vast Internet to give him the affirmation he seeks? Surely there is intelligent life out there among those .com's.

One cannot be sure how many websites he tried before he came upon one that suited his fancy to a "T". One can imagine him trying around a Brazilian domains before he settled on one where he finally found folks who might understand him. So he cozied in to these new digs at an early age, around 13 if I recall correctly. Now he is in his early 20s and is still in the process of being exiled from the website and worming his way back in. Any website is going to go through changes of administrations, and some have been more forgiving than others. And yet Nutdish cannot find his way to successful integration into the site no matter how the power structure changes. One has to ask, "Why?"

Well, here is the conclusion of our scientists at the Internet Forensic Team. IFT. (Common comment? "IFT we was right once in a while, we might get paid!")

Nutdish has indeed found intelligent life on this particular website and it pleases him. However, these same select few intelligent beings seem somehow able to interact with the hoi polloi that come and go on said site without animosity. There is the rub for Nutdish. And the rub is chafing him horribly. How could his superiors bear to put up with the idiocracy that obviously surrounds them? The general population of users on the site is nowhere near as intelligent and magnificent as him or his select cadre of betters. And yet those he actually does respect seem to function amongst all the dross and dreck of daily interaction with these slugs. How can it be?

The logical conclusion? It's the site's fault. The site must be defective and therefore must be destroyed. It must be burned to the ground in order to show the world the Catch-22, the fierce dilemma, he faces each and every day of his tortured life.

So while the big blue world keeps on turning and those around him find girls and hobbies and jobs and interests that take them far afield from where they were when they were 13 years old, Nutdish will still be found in front of his computer inventing other aliases and other ploys in order to try and worm his way back in to "The Site" so that, just maybe, this time will be the charm.

Contributions to this research can be funneled thru the home node of the author. No guarantees for a cure, but can't nothing fail but a try, eh? And it's gonna take money. A whole lot of spending money. It's gonna take patience and money. To do it. To do it. To do it right.

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