April 30, 2:21 p.m. EDT update:
Steve has posted a comment that reads: “[Beck] has been doing it six weeks. Finally had to stand to dispute the lies. Sometimes you have to stand. My counsel says yes as he makes things up. I will now move on.”
Steve, of course, has done no such thing. He has not disputed a word of what I have written on my blog. He has instead labeled me an atheist and a supporter of homosexuals, which I cheerfully admit to. He has also claimed that I am responsible for a number of Facebook accounts that are not in fact mine, but I don’t care about that. He says that I have written “lying articles against [him] at the blog” (he’s no Shakespeare) but has not pointed out a single lie. And he himself is lying because he said yesterday that he wasn’t going to address me anymore. I hope he’s looking forward to a toasty experience in Hell for his long, ugly streak of prevarications and other sins.
Yesterday, I forgot to mention a particularly vile and underhanded move Steve made — one typical of hucksters and scammers like this clown. Yesterday, he mentioned deaths and illnesses in his immediate family in an effort to gain sympathy that he can then use as leverage in his misguided attacks. Feeble-minded people are prone to blind spikes of outrage, like Chihuahuas, and Steve, though a dullard himself, knows this. He actually has the audacity to liken the passings of his wife’s parents in quick succession and his sister’s cancer diagnosis to “600 plus attacks by atheists and homosexuals,” as if the latter just sort of happened and are not a natural consequence of his monomania and yammering over the years. He puts these attacks in the category of “a real crises” (sic).
* Steve says I’ve lied about him. Feel free to point any of those lies in the comment box below.
* Anyone who complains that I’m guilty of hate speech for maligning someone does nothing but howl about atheists, homosexuals, and others should see a neurologist. Steve can, of course, say these things all he likes — and I can say whatever I please about these things in return.
* Steve implores his Facebook readers to “keep judging.” I am merely taking him up on this. I have judged the weight of the evidence, and concluded that Steve is some combination of unintentional joke and profoundly disturbed and conflicted asshole.
* Steve says I “spent hours getting (the picture of him I use here) off the TV.” I spent about three seconds using my laptop to get a screen capture. Also, as a friend just put it, “I find it amusing that his primary concern is how he looks in one picture.” Maybe Steve should spend a few moments praying for the insight to appreciate why I write things about him in the first place. HINT: It’s not because of either demons or George Soros.
* Steve is attempting to repay the favor of my posting what he feels is an unflattering photo of him by posting more and more pictures of yours truly. I can save him some trouble by reminding him that the photos he’s using are photos I posted to the Internet myself. That should be a sign that I’m not especially embarrassed by them.
* Steve says I am a stalker for writing posts about him, which I started doing six weeks ago at the rate of one a week. Well, gol-lee, folks. Steve has been writing untoward “articles” about gays and transgender people almost daily for a long time now. He has operated a “ministry” for almost 40 years to attack gay people who have nothing to do with him and have never even heard of him, and just want to live their lives. Steve pretends that this is “God’s work.” Well, if he can say that, so can I. My god is obviously smarter and cooler than his, because I can write in complete sentences and don’t look like someone who was just extruded from the bunghole of a diseased yak.
I realize that this exhortation will not resonate with you folks for multiple reasons, but I’ll say it anyway: Do the fucking math.
* I bet none of you have even gotten this far, but just as a check: Because Steve’s posts are public, so are the comments you all leave on his page. As a result, I can see your real names. Obviously, at least a few of you — as hard as it is for me to believe — have jobs, and you probably want to keep them. If you find yourself expressing opinions that strike me as uncivil, I may take it upon myself to convey these opinions to folks in your immediate sphere of operations who can influence your employment status.
* Steve has repeatedly complained that I have alluded to his eventual death, as if this constitutes a crime of some sort. Do any of you remember him celebrating Stephen Hawking’s actual death? Or that of James Cone last week? No? Better keep reading.
* This comment, in which Steve declares that he will stop mentioning me, is assuredly another of his lies. Actually, two of them. Either that or Steve really needs better counsel.
Suppose I stepped back from my obvious contempt for Steve McConkey — a pathetic basket case, a coward (the post on which Hemant focuses is gone) and the apotheosis of every awful thing about Christianity — and merely approached his body of work as an academic might. Even if I were to explore his demented output with utmost clinical detachment, I’d still find it easy to write lengthy posts each week about multiple facets of his corrupt thought processes and behavior. Part of this is because I’m still learning things about that reveal that there is basically no bottom to how much of a scourge he is, but for the most part it’s because he continually generates new madness. He’s like a version of Aladdin’s lamp in the form a wrinkly ass pointed upward and outward. He waits, bent over at the waist and grasping his ankles, and when someone wanders by and rubs those nasty old cheeks, a geyser of semi-solid rhetorical shit spews out: some delusions this time, some whining the next time, false appeals to scripture the next. This metaphor, in addition to being a tad nauseating, breaks down at the level of the number of wishes Aladdin’s genie was willing to grant. Steve’s ass-genie doesn’t stop at three or thirty or even three hundred; it’s a bottomless well of foulness that will keep erupting for as long as its keeper continues toiling away sadly in his Wisconsin home, subsidized by donations from the dolt brigade and most likely his progeny.
I could focus solely on McConkey’s laughable declaration about never having met a nice atheist, as if he can discern everyone’s beliefs at a glance and as if being nice is something McConkey cares about whatsoever. I could explain in detail why only a fool would use the term “atheists and other God-haters.” (Hint: the term is akin to “circles and other rectangular polygons.”) I could mock him endlessly for whining about Facebook censoring a couple of his fellow homophobic chatterboxes for 24 whole hours (because free speech directed against gays is vital) while repeatedly claiming that he’s called the FBI on me for being mean to him on the Internet (because anti-“Christian” free speech should be suppressed). I could discuss what a howl it is that he pretends to have allies in elite track-and-field circles, conveniently blaming the lack of evidence for this on the supposed reluctance of these figures to step forward for fear of unfair censure.
I could — and perhaps soon will — analyze in detail a grotesque interview he did with a radio show host as ignorant and blithering as Steve himself, a conversation in which Steve says that Colin Kaepernick needs to stand during the national anthem (Supreme Court decisions notwithstanding) to show his gratitude toward the white soldiers who fought in the Civil War for the freedom of people like Kaepermick; in other words, that Kaepernick needs to remain enslaved to show how free he is.
I could belittle Steve for blaming my flogging his lunacy and his lies — which in his mind don’t exist after he deletes them — on a combination of demonic possession and working for George Soros in the same post in which he denies any history of mental problems. I could joke that presents his never having seen a psychologist as prima facie evidence of his mental stability, since, by that metric, no one outside of prison walls has ever committed a felony. I could chuckle out loud at how he portrays defending” homosexuality and atheism as a negative character trait, and at his arguing that I am “trying to find dirt on” him, as if the garbage he offers up on his various pages every single day isn’t filthy enough.
I could buttress this belittling by suggesting that only someone with unaddressed psychological issues would write a garbled, fact-starved post in which he quotes himself and only himself as an authority and adds “quoted in article” to the post title for good measure. I could deride his hypocrisy in complaining that people obsess over his eventual demise despite being happy to make a note of the deaths of atheists and “Marxists” in an obvious “fuck these guys” way.
I could spend all day on the fact that McConkey is, not only in the example he sets in the very way he lives his life but by his own repeated admissions on social media, not a genuine Christian at all but a sad, never-employed homophobe using the fraud of a religious nonprofit as a front for begging for the handouts that keep him and his ugly, pointless mission alive. The latest example: Steve calling for Christians to be judgmental in absolute, obvious contradiction to the Bible he allegedly follows and likes to selectively quote.
But I won’t even mention any of that, and will instead focus on an issue that actually relates to running: the recent ruling of the International Olympic Committee to lower the maximum allowed level of testosterone in women athletes to 5 nmol/L. Steve, in a ridiculous but unsurprising turn, is crediting his “work” over the years for this outcome.
In the linked “article,” Steve writes:
[T]he International Olympic Committee is going to lower testosterone levels for women to five nanamoles, down from ten. This will make it tougher for transgenders who are now able to compete with a ten nanamoles limit.
I hate to be nitpicky, but I would expect someone who supposedly has a master’s in public health and whose chief life passion is railing against transgenders in sports to spell “nanomole” correctly, and to be aware that serum concentrations of substances, not total amounts, are what matter in this context. For example, when you take a cholesterol test, you don’t get a reading in “grams.” You get one in mass per unit volume — that is, concentration.
It is actually funny, in a pitiful way,that Steve thinks that his years of whining and bloviating have influenced the actions of the IOC. He’s like a senior citizen who staggers around town for decades in nothing but a diaper screaming about the unholy ways of tobacco companies, then howls about the efficacy of his activism when the Centers for Disease Control announces a decline in lung-cancer rates. He is iust a flat-out, shit-smearing idiot, and if this were somehow in doubt, just look at his most ardent online supporters, drawn from a sad sample of racist loons, flagrant illiterates, and fans of the Westboro Baptist Church. People with meaningful things to say don’t have online followings with profiles resembling that of an inpatient psychiatric hospital wing. I mean, this shit?
I won’t go into the legal realities of prayer in schools or the doings of the Westboro Baptist Church good ol’ Pat is so pleased about, because if you’ve gotten this far, you already know these things.
The sport of track and field is trying to ensure fair play for women, which is good, and means facing difficult issues when it comes to intersexed athletes. Steve McConkey, on the other hand, is trying to rid the world of gays and transgender people wholesale. He doesn’t care about sports or fair play for women athletes; these are just convenient excuses for his hate-mongering. He is a worn-out, unintelligent Bible-banger whose only asset is a PayPal donation button, and he will go to his grave after doing no tangible good for anyone at all in sixty-plus years, leaving a legacy of impoverished thought and bad actions.