Nutters and the Google magnet

I really should put one of those recent comments displays on the side of this blog or something – if only so you can experience the pleasantly random phenomenon that greets me when I open up my email in the morning. See – all my comments get emailed to me, or I woudnt notice this either.

When I was on Movable Type, all my comment boxes closed automatically after two weeks, because of spam. Now, on WordPress, spam is easier to catch, so they dont do that, they just stay open forever (or until I close them)

Which means that while Im writing new stuff and letting the old stuff slip off the bottom of the page and out of my mind, the very same posts are going up in the google rankings, and lots of random people are happening upon them, and commenting and things.

For example, quite the little support network started building in a comment box about an apparent infestation of ladybirds in my bathroom.

But my favourite one by far is the comments on my post about my distaste for Thomas Kinkade: Painter of Light (God, I hate him I hate him I hate him).

So there have been some comments from absolute ironclad crazies that Ive simply had to delete because – well, because frankly if I was going to stick a paintbrush there, I dont think Id need such detailed instructions.

Still, the one left in the middle of last night is just too good to throw away:

Hmm, You must think you are an artist who in reality sucks. Really sucks to be you huh. Ever sold any of your crap? Probably to pay by the hour hotels who don’t know anything more than paint…

Says an anonymous commenter going by the fabulous handle Hobob Jehosefat, which is a name Ill be adopting if I ever want to be anonymous and a bit mad.

Because frankly – eh? What does this comment mean? So because I am expressing my unrestrained distaste for a certain feckless dauber, calling him, at one point, a sanctimonious capitalist, and generally giving air to my hatred of his pobsy, pointless work, I am – let me get this straight – a failed artrist who hasnt sold any of my own paintings but if I have Im using them to – um – buy prostitutes in badly painted short short let establishments?

What?