Friday, September 10, 2004

I might be speaking from fabricated memories, gentle reader, but I seem to recall that insult competitions were very popular during Shakespearean times. Do you ever wonder what happened to this pastime? I do, and truth be told this question keeps me up at night.

I remember participating in dissing contests back in seventh grade. Although the details are fuzzy, the contests involved trading scathing witticisms in short two-minute rounds. While you could always rely on trusty mom jokes and “you’re so dumb” jokes, you would only command true respect by unleashing a six-barb assault on your opponent. By the way, this was never sanctioned by teachers or the PTA, though they damn well should have.

The Internet, ever fertile with millions of potential opponents, would provide the perfect grounds for insulting one another. Besides, we all know the promise of anonymity transforms even the most civil of people into raving lunatics, so we’re good to go. The only thing I might add, and classical antiquity will back me up here, is a gladiatorial aspect to the contest. Hundreds of thousands of spectators would watch as two mortals carve chunks out of each other with rapier wit. The sponsorship opportunities would boggle the mind, what with free Ipods and herbal enlargement remedies flying through the virtual air.

Think of it: Mr_Putdown is on his last legs, stumbling along with lukewarm comebacks as DissGurl7589 hurls insult after insult upon his broken body.

*coughs up blood*, he types.

“Ready to give up, pansywaist? Why don’t you hold still and I’ll make it painless?” she jams into her keyboard.

“LOL, you silly little bitch,” replies Mr_Putdown.

He waits for a few seconds to let the tension build.

“I’d like to extend an olive branch,” he finally admits in Courier-Sans font.

“Oh?” replies DissGurl7589, fatally letting her guard down.

“Yeah, right up your ass!” says Mr_Putdown in 50-pt. Arial.

The crowd erupts in a maelstrom of emoticons. Victory!