Several weeks ago, I marked my exit from the Internet’s new ‘dark web pilot project,’ otherwise now known as “X.” With that, it left wretched, friendless incels with fewer places to cyber-stalk me. Nevertheless, it made their efforts more manageable as they could focus all of their [finite] attention spans on my few remaining social media outlets.

A local goblin, convicted nuisance Sandor Ligetfalvy (known locally as “Sandy” or “Shoppers Sticker Karen”), an enduring thorn in the side of the police himself, has been indulging in one of the most protracted campaigns of stalking and harassment. Desperate for content and the opportunity to come out of a self-proclaimed retirement from “X,” he picked up on my post about some epic new swag.

Disagreeing with the Internet’s branding of the appropriately-labelled transphobic and ill-tempered Ashley Del Duca as “Smarmy Barbie,” not a moniker I picked but use only as a means of easy identification, he, Sandy, suggests that as I am a “pretend woman,” is thusly incapable of criticizing this Hobbit-like female public servant that repeatedly denigrated me and attempted to violate my Charter rights.

Ashley Del Duca jumps out of her NRPS SUV and unlawfully and inappropriately demands my “deadname”

What is it about calling someone “Barbie” that is inherently belittling?

Perhaps some of your own patriarchal wet dreams are doodling through there?

I see calling her “smarmy” as more of an insult if not entirely warranted. I suppose I could be ripped into for ‘falsely repeating this expressive sobriquet’ to Ashley since she falls far short of the height requirement to be a life-like analogue to the classic children’s doll.

Pointing out that she was a waitress was, as I meant it, to highlight the upward mobility of this largely inept individual. From her days as a ‘grimacing beer wench,’ apparently, she wasn’t well-liked at the Keg, to her current role as a “grimacing, overpaid communicator or rookie constable,” I applaud her hustle to join the ranks of our dreggy, local policing organization.

Since my apparent self-appointed editor and Twitter tormentor doesn’t really understand the definition of misogyny, despite being a ‘prolific wordsmith and celebrated journalist,’ published nowhere, I present clarification where needed: misogyny is [a] “hatred, dislike, or mistrust of women, manifested in various forms such as physical intimidation and abuse, sexual harassment and rape, social shunning and ostracism.” For Sandy’s declarations to have been valid, I would have had to specifically attack her gender or base the reasons for my attack solely on her gender. Neither of which is the case. Consequently, his claim; unsupported.

Simply criticizing a woman’s actions, especially when earned, isn’t in of itself misogynistic, a distinction that is too complex for Sandy. This goblin should spend less time harassing women and more time learning about how women, particularly BIPOC and trans women, are marginalized by the words and actions of people like my principal expositor.

Gender should be the least remarkable thing about someone, but transgender people are still too often misunderstood.

If this is true, that I am a “misogynist,” as a profession or at least as an enthusiast, it seems somewhat clumsy that I decided to ‘handicap myself’ and open myself up to some severe internalized self-hatred when, in practice, Sandy’s own thoughts and struggles with his own gender identity and sexuality are far more self-inflicted, conspicuous, and destructive. The tweets I have shared and the attention given to Del Duca have nothing to do with her gender but her actions in her official capacity and what she said.

Now calling me a “pretend woman” ‘_that’s’ [sic] bigotry*!

For Sandy’s edification, bigotry is a “stubborn and complete intolerance of any creed, belief, or opinion that differs from one’s own.” So, when I call him a bigot, that claim is spot on, much like my analysis of Ashley’s performance.

As has been my experience, debunking Sandy’s late-night Twitter rants was as entertaining as it was painless. He’s shown himself to be no more than a nuisance, incapable of engaging in a formidable debate. He bases his arguments on personal incredulity and cognitive dissonance and appeals to tradition, unfortunately, wrapped up in some sort of kaleidoscopic, Salvador Dalí-esque, illusory superiority caricature. While I appreciate living in your dank head rent free, your continued lust to remain on my radar is altogether unrequited.

Male Karen, Sandor Ligetfalvy goes full on meltdown in local pharmacy.