Twitling

    There is a term for people who have a false sense of entitlement. The "know-it-all". The person who argues for the sake of argument. The person who corrects everything they see. The person who calls "photo-shop!" on clearly photo-shopped things. The dick. Most of all, these people go out of their way to bitch at what other people have done, on the internet. I call them "Twitlings" A combination of the word "Witling-(derogatory) A person who considers themselves to be witty" and Twitter because Facebook is too difficult to merge with "witling." 
    I had an argument with one of these twits (see what I did there) yesterday. The subject was Adam Wingard. For anyone who doesn't know, Adam Wingard is the director of a few slightly known gems such as V/H/S, A Horrible Way to Die, and the upcoming V/H/S2 and You're Next (which I've heard great things about). The piece of work about to enter the ring is a short he directed for the film The ABCs of Death called "Q is for Quack." The ABCs of Death is literally the entire alphabet. 26 directors created 26 completely individual shorts for each letter they were assigned. It's impossible to judge this as a whole, of course. There are moments of genius, moments of fail, and moments that can only be described as WhatTheFuckness. However, "Q is for Quack" was one of my favorites and, in fact, what turned me onto Adam Wingard. It's witty, ironic, and funny but still gets the point across which is death. :)
    So, this twitling decides not only does he not like "Q" but he should tell Adam Wingard via tweet (fucking stupid term) that it is "a waste of time and money." This is the worst kind of twitling. They go out of their way to bitch about something someone has done to their (not really) face for no reason other than to start an argument and get attention. This infuriates me and the convo ensues as follows:
"Your opinion will surely make him (Adam Wingard) reevaluate all his movie making decisions."
 I'm the queen of sarcasm, HA-HA! 
Ahem. 
He says, "I didn't say that."
I say "You didn't have to. You intentionally implied that his work is not good enough for you."
He says "I'm giving him constructive criticism." 
Completely wrong because he A)Lacks the qualifications to do so. and B) Never actually said what he specifically found wrong with the segment or suggested what he would have done to make it better. Saying something sucks isn't constructive criticism, it's bitching.
I say "Tweeting directly to him about how his work is a waste of time and money is unnecessary and disrespectful."
He says "You're being disrespectful."
I say "You're right because I don't usually go out of my way to say negative things to strangers on the internet. I must be the ass here. Have a nice day."
I think it's over. Fuck all, it's not.
He ask "What's the difference of you commenting on a conversation you're not part of?"
At this point, I want to say "The difference, you stupid piece of shit, is between me calling your sister ugly and you getting mad about it or me walking up to you sister to tell her she's ugly at all!" i.e. There's a difference between pissing people off that you're not involved with and defending something you like. I didn't say that though because of Twitter's 140 character rules. I couldn't possibly explain anything effectively so I said "Right." and left him alone yet again.
He says "I'm glad you agree."
Whatever, dude.
He says "You're avoiding me because you don't know how to assert yourself."
Fuck, Imma have to kill his punk ass.
My final comment to him was "Have a nice life, you pretentious waste of internet space"

    It's bullshit, I tell you. Bullshit! I got over it quickly though. In the aftermath these things always seem ridiculous. The best analogy I've ever seen to describe these Twitlings is this:

People who take the time to bitch at other people about the things they see on the internet are like people who see dog shit on a sidewalk and rather than walk around it, they intentionally step in it and then complain to everyone around them about said dog shit.

End.