An Open Letter To Michael Pachter

Michael Pachter, being a white male on the internet, has gone and said something awful on the internet.

Describing the "late, not so great, Satoru Iwata", this pathetic little man has insulted a beloved visionary of our time in a desperate attempt to get himself some coverage in the media now that nobody cares at all what he says or does.

Of course, I could condemn this in the strongest terms, but what would that achieve? This is a world where proud sex predators run for President of the United States, Nigel Farage remains woefully unpunched and Katie Hopkins gets paid actual money to spread hateful filth. Writing about why bad people are bad, expressing outrage at them, just spreads their bile further and helps to maintain their personal brand.

Instead of a measured, intelligent response to Pachter, I offer this.

Michael Pachter!

You talk the talk but can you walk the walk?

You chat the smack but can you lay it?

You're a jerk. You're an asshole. You give nothing to mankind and besmirch the name of a man so much greater than you, you don't even exist unless you use his name.

Put up or shut up, Pachter.

I want YOU in a steel cage.

I am the tower of power, the master of disaster, the puncher of faces and the ruler of places.

You and me. No holds barred. Pinfall or submission. Any time, any place, I will slap you silly and leave you dizzy. I will take you to Painstown, Pain County, population: nerd. 

I'm a bold man and I'm a bald man, but I ain't a fooled man.

I know you won't take me on in any form of combat. I know, deep down, you're aware that you're a loathsome, worthless scumbag. Like all bullies, you use meanness to hide your insecurities. But I know you'll never listen to sense, or heartfelt expressions of how much your words hurt people.

You'll listen to powerful punches from my firsts, bone-crunching blows from my elbows, killing kicks from my feet and stretcher-requiring strikes from my knees.

I doubt you'll ever read this, and if you do, I doubt you'll ever face me in that steel cage.

But if you do. And if you will.  Maybe, just maybe, you'll go three minutes with me and prove that you're worthy to even speak the name Satoru Iwata. 

Despite all that, no number of suplexes will equal what you deserve. Thankfully, sufficient punishment for you has already come your way, and will continue to do so for many years to come:

And when you die, nobody will even mention you in their crap youtube series.