He’s a very angry person, Carroll Bryant.
It’s paradoxical. One hand, he simply thrives on the attention. He basks in it, immediately responding without thinking and using anonymous comments to type to himself to reinforce whatever feeble position he decides to take on the spur of the moment. But on the other hand, he complains about it and calls foul.
But you can’t have it both ways.
You either love it and live for it, or you’re upset and want it to stop. If you’re upset and want it to stop, then you simply stop. You don’t respond. You literally cease and desist. You use the legal means given to pursue proper action. You shut up and get it done. However, if you thrive on it, you do what Carroll’s done: You make multiple drama posts on several hate blogs, and do everything in your personal power to escalate the situation while taking out as many people as you can in the wake of your own explosion.
He responds to whatever is written in reflex fashion, jumping precariously from one fallacious conclusion to another, and hoping no one notices. He makes grandiose claims he can’t back up and thinks one-liners will afford him a safe out. He never provides actual evidence of anything. He suggests what he wants the reader to believe. He uses screen shots that don’t illustrate the point and words to twist it into what he wants it to be.
But Carroll can’t read.
I asked myself why. Maybe it’s lack of education. Is it the school system? Could Gen be right when she says society’s gone to hell because they stopped teaching philosophy in schools? Is my brother right when he expounds on the failings of an over-burdened education system? At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter because Bryant still can’t read.
If you show him evidence of his own foolishness, he calls it brilliance and types anonymous comments to himself about how great he is. If you show him something’s blue, he calls it red and gives a dissertation on why red is now the new blue. He is completely unacquainted with both logic and reason, and terms like facts and evidence are strangers to Carroll Bryant.
How do you talk to someone whose mind is retarded from hate and spite? You don’t, because not only can Carroll not read but he can’t hear you, either. Bryant lives in his own little world of pettiness, an enemy around every corner, cranking out one conspiracy theory after another. It’s comedic at best and painful at its worst; but no matter how painful it is from the outside, the acoustics on the inside must be deafening.