Let’s start with the illiterate woodchucks

I think that catastrophic levels of psychological projection must be catching.

As I mentioned recently, when Kim Duclos decided to try to help a certain gay-hating Evangelical in his battle to keep me from criticizing the maniacal bullshit he continually flings into cyberspace, it quickly occurred to her to tip off another of my haters, the Granite Grok consortium of perpetually livid right-wingers in New Hampshire, to what was afoot.

It seems like none of these three parties is capable of expressing satisfaction about anyone or anything without their words being a painfully obvious indictment of their own shortcomings.

I have a history with Ed Naile. I don’t blame him for not liking me. He is a muckraker extraordinaire and utterly dishonest in how he conducts himself, and I’ve offered my insights about him a couple of times on this blog. I understand why this has upset him, and why he was quick to seize on the me-vs.-gay-bashing-Evangelical situation when Kim reached out to him. It’s not like him to be remotely concerned with accuracy, so the other day he decided to just fire off a bunch of disjointed words from his addled little forebrain.

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This week in Steve McConkey: Crank-calling the FBI, and getting some real attention

First, Steve McConkey will be happy to know that his “worldwide press releases” are being picked up and mentioned by at least one high-traffic blogger outside the Evangelical clown-bubble. Hemant Mehta of The Friendly Atheist, who made a note of Mr. McConkey’s antics in 2015, has addressed Steve’s grousing about transgender runners being allowed to run the Boston Marathon. The only thing Hemant gets somewhat wrong is calling Steve the leader of anything. Steve is the president of 4 WINDS in the same way I am the chief executive of this blog, except that I am 1) not illiterate, 2) not asking anyone for money, and 3) not a lunatic, although I certainly seem to be involved with crazies to a suspicious extent.

Second, Steve is none too pleased about my blog posts mentioning him, though of course he’s too much of a coward to link to them for the benefit of the jabbering imbeciles who follow him:
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This is what everyday insanity looks like

And most of it isn’t even my own.

I’m going to try to present the continuation of this nonsense in a somewhat more succinct form than I did last time. This is partly because all words devoted to Kim Duclos’ hijinks are by some measure a waste of time, but also because I don’t think I need to belabor the obvious by overthrowing my analysis into the mix; there are no alternative interpretations of Kim’s idiocy other than “it’s idiocy.”

About a week after the appearance of the “Thoughts on removing posts from homeless individuals asking for help?”  thread on the Boulder subreddit — a topic I learned of days after the fact and stayed out of — someone submitted a link to an article in 5280 Magazine about dangerous people camping in the foothills west of town. It didn’t take long for the human-bullfrog hybrid behind “legal_throwaway34,” having a tropism for anything that lets her blather about her caricature of me as well as indirectly vent her own long-ago-disclosed fears about becoming homeless, to find her way to this thread. She posted this:
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Lunatic troll doubles down on self-abasement: part 89 in an infinite series

Perhaps you’ve encountered this kind of thing before: Someone is caught in an undeniable, flat-out  lie on the Internet, and instead of fessing up or simply disappearing, he or she compounds the entire uproarious fuckup with ever-more-ridiculous lies while becoming markedly more agitated after every reply from her interlocutors. This person decides she will fight until the bitter end, reality be damned, her headlong rush into sheer humiliation notwithstanding.

In adopting a “go big or go home” mentality with respect to all-important Internet wars, this brand of troll ignores a simple, critical fact: from the moment the exchange first started, there was zero chance of her “winning,” by any definition.

I mentioned that I’d be addressing Kim Duclos’ using the death of one of my friends as tool for hammering away at her usual bullshit: that I’m a homeless, criminal, abusive gutter-drunk who relies on some combination of the local shelter, the charity of the woman I beat up, running prowess, thievery, and mind control to get what I want out of my sad and hopeless life. Kind of like a combination of Alex DeLarge, James Bond, and Jeff Lebowski.
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A mini wrap-up, new stuff, and people whose 2018 has begun badly

The start to my 2018 has been unusually stressful, as much owing to venturing out of my comfort zone as to “problems.” So far, after receiving a delightful and unexpected end-of-year pay bonus from my primary work client on December 31st, I’ve gotten into a minor car accident (I won’t get into whose fault that might have been here), managed to misplace $100 in cash (a downstream effect of thinking I’d lost a debit card in December during a run without actually having done so), been interviewed by the Boulder Daily Camera about the Christmas morning death of one of my friends, and spoken at a Boulder City Council meeting concerning issues related to that death. I’ve also experienced a few other minor setbacks and frustrations lately, but nothing really new or worth writing about — even in this space, which is clearly nothing more than a repository for cognitive flatulence that would otherwise be allowed to dissipate unnoticed.

But compared to Kim Duclos, I’m on pace to conquer the entire solar system by Saint Patrick’s Day, including the Oort Cloud. More on that relentless one-monkey shit-war under the fold, but inasmuch as Kim’s thought processes include any deliberation at all, she seems to have accepted that she has turned her own life into a bad joke from which she knows she will never escape, and is therefore willingly offering herself up as a rhetorical punching bag at regular intervals. (I know this theory is false, and that Kim is just an unbalanced dimwit who thinks that using the same shady tactics that have resulted only in the deepening of her own shame and sense of powerlessness 99 times in 99 tries will somehow prove fruitful on her 100th attempt. But as a comparatively normal person, I can’t help but view others’ behavior and decision-making through an everyday lens.)

I already summarized my 2017 from an overall perspective on my other blog. Since a lot of my life, however grudgingly at times, involves running, assessing how any given year has gone necessarily entails figuring out what was good and bad about my training, performances, outlook, and general relationship to the sport. Last year, having started on the ground fitness floor in December 2016, I worked up to consistent 65- to 75-mile weeks didn’t miss a day of running until mid-July, and along the way managed a sub-par but not wildly disappointing 38:31 at the Bolder Boulder on Memorial Day. I weathered my midsummer knee injury with unprecedented composure (in years past, I often drank my way through such issues) but when I came back after my five-week layoff, I realized that what I suspected at the start of the year was mostly true: I just don’t care enough about the possibility of rising to a less mediocre level to put a lot of focused work into that, even if my body allows it.
Continue reading “A mini wrap-up, new stuff, and people whose 2018 has begun badly”

Kim Duclos and abject moral confusion

A fair number of you are expecting something about Kim Duclos’ September 12th implosion. The timing of this was predictable — in fact, at least three people did independently predict it — because my book event on September 7th was certain to provoke nettlesome nonsense from her. Kim is a resentful shut-in paralyzed by the same issues that have dogged her forever, and the humble successes of people she feels have abandoned or wronged her — or are merely associated with those people — are like acid thrown in her face.

It’s tempting to not stop with this one image, to post screenshot after screenshot of the crazed, malicious, and often unintentionally funny things she’s posted this year on Facebook, Twitter (where on one classic April evening she really lost it) and Letsrun, and mockingly parse them ad nauseam. But that would be a waste of time; for one thing it’s a lowbrow, albeit valid, form of entertainment, and for another it’s not like her behavior, and not just toward me, is a secret anymore — Google her name, even without quotes or adding words for context, and what instantly appears is an archetypal example of how attempting to damage someone online, as she has done, can backfire viciously. I never actually meant to Google-bomb Kim with my writings about her, but I’m not complaining about the outcome.

Please appreciate what is happening here with this post, one of many she made to the forum that evening that the mods deleted (with, as always, no provocation from me or anyone I know; the admins are wise to her antics there). The fact that her claims about me and Brad are untrue is almost immaterial. Here, Kim — not for the first time — is treating alcohol abuse and eating disorders, at least one of which she suffers from herself, as willful moral failings, on a par with physically or emotionally abusing someone. That’s bad enough, but consider the source: In addition to lying about and crapping on the people who have helped her the most in her inglorious life, Kim has lied to the police, lied to a judge in an effort to advance those lies to the police, and lied about her entire educational and vocational history. (Kim likes to pretend that the stuff I’ve posted on my site is just my own opinion, but she knows this is untrue; other than my editorializing, most of this stuff consists of police reports, official court documents, and self-contradictory nonsense she’s created herself.) And that’s just a basic survey of her dishonesty, evidence of the worst of which is confined, for now, to years-old personal correspondence between myself and Kim.

Get that? Someone who has brazenly lied, cheated and manipulated her way through her entire adult life is declaring someone with anorexia unfit for participation in life.

I realize that she has mental issues, but at some point that line of reasoning to explain her behavior becomes mere bootstrapping. All along, she has been keenly aware of, and nurtured, her own ruinous intentions; her psychological problems only grease the wheels for an already toxic personality to run riot. And as I’ve said before, Kim’s rent-paying, job-holding boyfriend, who suffered in the back row of a courtroom in March 2016 while Kim’s lies unraveled, is not oblivious to her behavior, even if he doesn’t see every example of it or even most of them. If he has his own wits about him at all, which is far from assured, the day will come when he will wake up and either force her to get some real help or put her out on the street. Whatever he does or doesn’t feel about her, I am quite certain he doesn’t want to wind up sitting in court because of her behavior again.

“There’s never a reason to pay for running plans”

So says a familiar bastion of virtually nonexistent — yet somehow still deteriorating — integrity. (Please click on that link if you’re not familiar with the person I’m writing about or why I do it. Lize’s post describes what is perhaps the apotheosis of this years-long and only slowly ebbing mess.)

Ever the merry prankster, Kim Duclos decided to take a training plan she asked me for in 2013 — which she repeatedly promised to pay for and didn’t, as detailed below — and modify the dates on it before posting a link to it on Facebook. This was during the height of an aggressive and quite insane campaign that ultimately wound up with the two of us in a courtroom, during which it apparently somehow escaped her that the judge told her, in so many stern words, “Ma’am, please stop lying and wasting everyone’s time. Leave this guy alone, and try to behave like you belong in the world.” Of course, Kim hasn’t stopped lying and hasn’t left me alone, and has also decided to focus her yammering even more exquisitely on Lize, perhaps believing her to be a weaker adversary than me, or something. Dumb move.
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