Live and let live...please.

(Sigh) Can someone please explain to me why people take joy in hurting each other?

A writer from the National Post (Canada) recently wrote a profile about The Man Himself in which he made a remark about his fans. It wasn't positive or negative in my opinion, just a remark that reflected an aspect of his success as an actor.

Apparently, some fans took it negatively, and the writer immediately wrote a blurb explaining that Gerry does love his fans. It wasn't something that was really necessary at all, but I thought it was a very classy and courteous thing to do.

Years ago, I would have been the first person to say "fans" were crazy, lonely women who had nothing better to do with their time than fantasize over a complete stranger, whom they had a snowball's chance in hell of ever meeting. I would have, and probably have for that matter, used the words stalker or weirdo when talking about any person's fans. Fan is short for fanatic, after all, isn't it?

But now I know better, because to my own surprise, I've become a fan of Gerard Butler myself, and have been for the last two years. He's not the greatest actor out there. But he has potential. His acting is getting better with each film he makes. Anyone with half a brain can see that. And sure, admittedly, it was his striking looks that originally brought me to the website. But that's not the only reason I stay.

I stay because being a part of this special group of women has meant more to me in the last two years than anything next to my family. It has opened me up to things I never thought I'd be a part of. I have made friends there whom I'll have for life. I've traveled and laughed and shared in camaraderie that I never experienced before, and I'm a better person for it. We support each other and we talk about our lives, and we laugh and we gab and we are happy just knowing that no matter what time of the day or night it is, someone is there. I've had some of them to my home, and they've met my family. We've gone out to dinner and movies and shopping.

More importantly, I think, my husband once told me that since joining this website, I laugh more. I'm happier. And he's happy to see that.

But back to the story. The blurb was a very nice gesture on the writer's part (Bob Thompson is his name). I write for a newspaper myself, and honestly, I don't know anyone who would even have gone to the trouble.

The problem is, tonight I went to re-read the blurb, and there were comments beneath it, some so hurtful I could feel the heat rushing to my face as I read them. They said, in a nutshell, that Gerry's fans are "nutjobs", "batshaft", whatever the fuck that mean, "crazy", "stalker types", fat...oh, and let's not forget that some of us look like "tired streetwalkers." (sigh)

You know, it shouldn't surprise me any more that people can be so hateful and hurtful to each other, and yet it does. I wish it didn't bother me so much. Many of the other ladies have said that it's silly to let it bother me, and to ignore it, and these people just don't know what they're missing. We have fun and that's all that matters. And they're right. But for the life of me, I can't understand why people choose to be cruel.

I'll never understand it.