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.