Tonight’s post is a quick one. Just a guilty pleasure. Something on the internet that amuses me. And I’m easily amused.
In particular, I’m amused by Kevin Smith’s ongoing twitter war/fauxmance with Megan Phelps.
If somehow you’re fortunate enough to not know who Megan Phelps-Roper is, she’s the granddaughter of Fred Phelps, founder of the Westboro Baptist Church. Yes, the one’s whose url is hate speech and who protest soldier’s funerals. I guess Megan’s the younger, hipper contingent because she spreads the WBC’s message of hate via twitter and Lady Gaga parodies. Yeah. I want to feel sorry for her, knowing she’s only the product of her environment and she’s been indoctrinated into what she is but… she makes it really damn hard.
I imagine given the opportunity, most of us have more than a few choice things we’d like to say to Megan and the WBC. But let’s face it, telling them how despicable they are only fuels their fire. I think Kevin Smith has hit on a better tactic.
He flirts with her. Every time she tweets some kind of criticism of him or announces the WBC will be picketing one his events, he acts like she’s hitting on him. He responds by gently chiding her with the fact that he’s married. Then he offers to see if he can talk his wife into a three way. Then he offers to share his pot with her. It’s basically a fifth grade technique (albeit with slightly more adult content), but I like it anyway. I don’t think any of its going to change her mind or make a difference. Megan seems pretty set in her ways, though she is young, so there might be hope. And honestly, I think she likes the attention. But whatever.
What I care about is it makes me snicker. And it’s the end of the semester, and I need all the laughs I can get.
So thank you Mr. Smith—you’ve brought the funny yet again.