An Open Letter...


... to the brother-clucking grassmoles who hijacked my blog:

I know who you are. Oh, I'm not sure if the guy behind it all did the technological dirty work himself (doubtful). And I can't pin it on you, which is why I'm not naming names. How much would you love to hit me with libel charges while you sit back and laugh?

What I don't know is why exactly, beyond pettiness and some particularly perverted jealousy, you did this. Can you just not stand to see me writing again? Are you really so preoccupied with me having a life and potentially rebuilding my career that you had to erase the evidence of my capability, as if doing so erases that capability itself? If so, the joke is only on you, because I'm still here and so is pretty much everything you tore down — and I have friends who will help me put it back, in more places than it stood before, so you can dart through cyberspace chasing Blam's Blog as your bête noire until we catch you in the act.

I hope you read every single post you removed, not only so that I can imagine your face flustering pink with rage over the kind of talent you'll never have but because I want you to truly appreciate the breadth of what you desecrated. You didn't just delete ultimately frivolous essays on Supergirl and Captain Atom and The Justice League. You deleted memories of people who have passed on, stories about my nieces and nephew and grandparents, and thoughts on the struggles of life. You had best make your peace with that, because if and when your participation in this endeavor is revealed it will not reflect well upon you.

Within the next few days I won't just have this blog rebuilt but mirrors of it hosted on other folks' blogs as well. Whether it ultimately continues here on Blogger or on another service I don't know yet, but as before I'm stubborn enough not to grant the vandals even the victory of my abandoning this platform until I can afford a more secure one. All of those who've visited my little endeavor here, I thank you from the bottom of my heart; you who continue some sorry vendetta against me aren't even worth my disgust.


8 comments:

Stefan Blitz said...

The Forces of Geek have your back.

Gillian Whitfield said...

The Forces of an almost seventeen year old Beatles geek have your back.

Arben said...

The Fercitam (it was my verification word) of Me has your back, too. At least one of your dupe blogs is ready to go at a moment's notice.
I didn't know comments were back up or I'd have been here sooner. Welcome back! Happy Easter, Happy Passover, and Screw the Brother-Clucking Grassmoles!

El Qué said...

I say again: Where's my shiv? You'd better run, brother-clucking grassmoles!!!

El Qué said...

PS: With all due respect to Gillian, as you assemble your forces, Captain Blam, do consider both propriety and child-labor laws when marshaling those that are underage.

Blam said...

I appreciate all the support, folks.

Teebore said...

Yay! Blam's back!

Stick it to 'em!

The Gentlemen of Leisure have your back.

Word veif: werid. A weird spelling of "weird".

Blam said...


Ooh... It's a crossover! 8^) With the Forces of Geek and the Gentlemen of Leisure behind me, I can't lose. Plus, Arben's a lawyer, which is good for a scare. FOG outnumbers you three considerably, Teebore, but I await the pulse-pounding convocation of Mr. Blitz and Dr. Bitz. Really, guys, you touch me in completely appropriate ways.