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A Textual Tour of the Dire-Straited Zoo of Contemporary Online Philosophical Discussion, Including the Most Popular Exhibits of Hateful Heidebearians, Asinine Aristotterelians And Woeful Wittgenlionians (Random Words, Showerthoughts, Google Translate, Thesaurus Masturbation and GPT-3 Text [According to My Various Censors and Commenters])

On sea-faring adventure dans le navire noble of epistemophilic polymathglot anthropopoesis, rápidamente the disjecta membra of anti-glossolalist hate comments and general Hass vers my logorrheic, phanopoeic and fairly Buddhic lexical endeavours est devenu más común than your modest decollated wordsmith would have tolutiloquently befürchtet. No solo have heresiological I and meine humble altigrams ya he atraído my fair share of chuckleheaded e-Feinde, that además de not supporting la stylistique bohème of my lex orandi, credendi textwork, are sehr eager poster headstrong (pour moi pulchritudinous) “hate comments” acerca de my wooly-minded, fickle, pig-brained blog, and qui are happy 禁止する my innocent compte for simplemente trying widerstehen the menticidal hyporeality of worldwide linguistic hegemony, et erklären the whence, how and whither of my ontos. Bevor I continue avec my in equal parts panlogist, Thelemite and Mahasamadhi autophany, je sens it is incumbent responder to the Orwellian defamation, deplatforming and expurgation con which my many bowdlerised, puerile and zweifellos green-eyed monoglotic/kakodaemonic (quelle est la différence?) critics have lambasted saya. As a good 友達, Néricault once dit, “La critique est aisée, et l’art est difficile.” The lang and drôle story of how I échappé the acculturation process, became an Ipsissimus logophile (mit aphantasic detractors and simulacrum-befuddled Lassallists galore!), is clairement nein of great Interesse to the diversivolent cultureme-spewing online landlubbers who have made up their labile and instinctual pendapat que my Daseinal project is trop zenitic, aleatoric and polyphrenic for their definitionistic ego quests and xenocentric cakeism, and have juberously 決定しました to jettison their blunt torpedoes of bon mots στο the impeccant vaporetti of my pot-valiant translingual journey. Peut-être the sonar of this smatchet of a cynical polymonster kapal should have kenned these erotophobic epiphenomenalists from the get-go, mais it seems the raging high seas of Malinchist sociocultural embeddedness, and the torrents of omphaloparetic philoptosis are unmöglich échapper. Mi única esperanza now is que the pareidolic riptides and metataxic crosscurrents of criticism continue dejarme and my jugendlich, syncromystic mente only tickled pink.