1982 – 2012
DESTROYED IN DALLAS
KILLED AT DAILYKOS
NOT MY FAULT
I doubt Mark in MD will try to sue me for copyright, since he would have to review his actual name.
Now I’ve always been told that everyone talks to themselves, and that it’s perfectly normal to do so.
But you really have to watch out for the ones who not only talk to themselves, but answer back as well.
Now seems like a good time for a reminder. A sort of pre-emptive strike, if you will.
When the counterclaim was filed, there was a motion requesting leave to take expedited discovery to identify “Paul Krendler.”
Because he didn’t know who I was.
He spent a lot of energy (and contrary to what he may think, it was not polite in the slightest degree) and effort on this blog and on Twitter trying to get me to identify myself. He was very, very upset by the notion that someone might treat him with the same contempt and disrespect with which he consistently treats others.
He made threatening statements. He promised that I would be implicated in perpetrating fraud against a MAJOR PUBLISHING HOUSE!! He begged like the whupped bully he is. He made threatening statements to others of criminal charges – oooOOOOOOoooohhhh! – if they didn’t tell who I was. These may or may not rise to the level of criminal extortion. I suppose we’ll find out sooner or later.
I have warned him repeatedly in those, his moments of high dudgeon and desperately false high confidence, that when he learns who I am, he will not be happy. Not one little bit.
Can’t say I didn’t give him fair warning.
He has made it a non-negotiable condition of his outlandish, public, online settlement demands that he be provided my real name, address, phone number and email address, or be provided a copy of the copyright transfer/assignment that I executed.
He has previously stated that if X happens, he doesn’t need me, and if not X happens, he also doesn’t need me. So I still wonder why he needs me (actually I don’t – on that point I’m pretty certain I have the truth of it nailed down).
But he has filed a motion asking for subpoena power to compel Twitter and WordPress to identify the owner of this blog, and the owner of the Twitter account @brainsrfood.
I remain unconcerned. I sleep well every night. I am prepared for the possibility that he may find out who I am. When that day comes, well, my attitude may become less carefree, but my confidence will not be shaken. The battle will be truly joined. I am ready.
In recent days, I didn’t pay close attention but I think it was about a week ago, he said in a Tweet that he “had a pretty good idea” who I am. A week ago. So that tweet has been deleted.
I sincerely doubt the strength of his “pretty good idea.”
What was true then, remains true today: HE DOES NOT KNOW WHO I AM.
But he is desperate to find out.
But right now, with requests for subpoenas filed, HE DOES NOT KNOW WHO I AM.
So, on that day, if the subpoenas do go out, and WordPress and Twitter report back the identity of Paul Krendler, remember then the truth of today: HE DOES NOT KNOW WHO I AM.
And when he finds out? And begins to crow, ” I KNEW IT ALL ALONG!!”
Remember that he was warned that he would not enjoy the end of the road when he reached it.
Remember that he’s never deleted anything from Twitter.
I am ready to stand up and defend myself. When the time comes and not a moment before. My powder keg is filled and the contents are dry.
Will he be as prepared to press forward, once the “unknown unknown” is at last revealed?
“Everything that happens to you now is entirely your own doing.”
That will be a good one to remember.
Everything coming down the road could have been avoided. It could have been avoided with equal measures of self-respect, self-esteem and self-control by the author of this:
Sadly, he possesses none.
But what was the likelihood of that ever happening, from a guy who dribbles out the top of his head?
I’ve won every battle.”
Truer words were never spoken: All that is required to discredit Bill Schmalfeldt, is to quote Bill Schmalfeldt.
Publisher’s note: This is Bill Schmalfeldt’s view. We, at The Thinking Man’s Zombie, enjoy parodying Bill Schmalfeldt by taking his words and twisting them back on his fat, stinky ass. But sometimes, God provides an epic bit of dumbassery that requires little but to change names and visual aids.
I learned this lesson a little too late. Too late for my health, too late for my reputation, just too late. But not too late to pass some advice on to my reader (Gail) and those of you imaginary and or accidental readers who are righteously outraged by the filth smeared on your computer screens by the haters, misogynists, homophobes, anal rape enthusiasts and fools. But enough about me.
What I am about to show you should make you physically ill. I hope.
Continue reading “Schmalfeldt Wants To Be ‘Shut Down,’ Not Argued With”
Would you knowingly hand a loaded pistol to a toddler?
Of course not. And you don’t need to have the reasons explained to you. You just wouldn’t.
For much the same reasons, Bill Schmalfeldt, the extremely short-termed former President of the convicted bomber/perjurer/drug dealer Brett Kimberlin Renegade Chapter of the National Blogger’s Club, Inc., should not be allowed to have a computer with access to the Internet.
I am loathe to give this troll any attention whatsoever. He’s like Martin Bashir, but without the tact. Like Alec Baldwin, but without the impulse control. Like Rachel Maddow, but without the Adam’s Apple. Like Touré, but without the racial cachét to compensate for his ignorance. Like Stephanie Miller, but without the bowel control.
What set Bill off this time?
Lee Stranahan, his wife and their dead-in-the-womb child.
Apparently, Bill doesn’t like the fact that this grief-stricken man whose daughter died in utero has different political views. And so, bullying, defamation, libel and harassment of Stranahan, his family, and anyone who rises to his defense has become Bill Schmalfeldt’s raisôn d’être.
Bill Schmalfeldt has had over 23,000 accounts on Twitter.
Now, I’m not here to make jokes about Bill’s “Creator” being the south end of a northbound crack whore, which rhymes with boar. That would be crude. And Bill loves the crude. I read somewhere recently that reading his Twitter account is like jumping face first into a brimming septic tank with your mouth open, then trying to stay under as long as you can.
Especially when he talks about women, or makes the homophobic insults that seem to be his bread and butter when insulting men.
I don’t know what can be done about additional Obamacare regulations that would require conservatives to give birth in a government hospital where they and their children could be tattooed, chipped and tracked for re-education and indoctrination.
I do know what can be done about Bill Schmalfeldt.
What do you do when you see a toddler holding a loaded gun?
You take it away from him. Unless he shoots you with it first.
Bill has the First Amendment right to express his stupidity. He can purchase a soap box, stand on a street corner, and scream at the moon if he likes. Which he does like to do. A lot.
Twitter, a private company, is not required to provide Bill with a platform to spread his hatred and harassment.
Nor is Amazon. Nor CreateSpace. Nor Lulu.com. Nor Smashwords.
Twitter, and other social media and online publishing services, should take the proper step of shutting down Bill Schmalfeldt. There is nothing in the First Amendment that gives Schmalfeldt or his master, convicted bomber Brett Coleman Kimberlin (who sues to censor anyone who speaks unkindly about him at the drop of a hat), the right to have a Twitter account. Or to publish a book.
There is a sickness in the left wing of this country. We ignore it at our peril. I learned quickly that arguing with people like Schmalfeldt is pointless because they simply have no tolerance for any views but their own. Schmalfeldt is enjoying every angry Tweet he receives about this topic. I think a reasonable solution would be to put Schmalfeldt in a room with Lee Stranahan, lock the door, and open it when Schmalfeldt’s screaming and crying in terror can no longer be heard, and the coppery smell of drying blood overcomes the stink of the overflowing Depends.
Schmalfeldt is a coward, a keyboard commando.
I believe it has nothing to do with Lee Stranahan, his family or their personal medical decisions. The idea that a death in childbirth of a child in Texas is somehow newsworthy to a self-styled unemployed pretend journalist in Maryland? That’s just a symptom. Bill Schmalfeldt is a disease. And those three or four misguided, ignorant people on earth who take him seriously are the small, scurrying rodents that carry this disease from place to place.
Don’t engage him. Shun him. Deny him a platform. Ridicule him. Teach your children that Bill is always wrong. Teach the kids that people like him exist only as cautionary tales of what happens when you profess tolerance with your mouth but practice hatred, harassment and evil in your deeds.