Commenters are an unruly bunch. I don’t have a particularly social site but from what I can tell much time is spent spelling you’re as your, calling people douches and/or haters and accusing innocents of hailing from the Midwest (Ohio, more specifically).
Even The New York Times, which used to remain fairly civil (due to firm monitoring, I suspect) has become hotbed of angriness lately. I do appreciate how the economy has somehow whipped what might have been ordinary citizens into a pissy frenzy, dour as I am normally.
The tragedy of people who had six-figure salaries now resorting to $12/hours jobs? Idiots who should’ve saved more when they were making the big bucks. (I concur.)
Children whose parents can’t afford to pay for their reduced public school lunches being given cold cheese sandwiches and fruit? Cry babies who are lucky they get fed at all. (Harsh, but I can see their point.)
The “Frugal Traveler” bemoans the lack of Saigon boutique hotels in the $50 range? Pick from: sounds like you should rename your column to The Affluent but Cheap Traveler, I suffered through hell in Vietnam and it sounds like you’re a pansy or hey, dillweed why do you think you’re too good for a $5 a night fleabag backpacker hostel like I enjoy? Sheesh, rich folks. (Ok, I totally don’t agree with these attacks. I’m middle-income, luxury-averse but do value well-priced wi-fi, air conditioning and minimally stylish accommodations when traveling. So what?)
But my favorite breed of commenters are the assholes who’ve never seen a recipe they didn’t want to mess with. This weekend I was browsing croquette recipes because, you know, that’s what I do for fun on a Saturday afternoon. Wine and Ham Croquettes, a fairly traditional seeming Spanish recipe compelled me to click.
And unwisely seeking the advice of strangers, I immediately came to this doozy from a Westchester resident:
“Not a bad ham croquette recipe but I found it a bit bland. I added 2 tablespoons of maple syrup, a teaspoon of cinammon [sic] and a small can of diced pineapple chunks which made all the difference!”
My god. This sounds like someone who thinks raisins gussy up celery and peanut butter and considers fruit cocktail topped cottage cheese a legitimate dessert. Remind me to never eat Spanish food in Yonkers.