Shambollocks! Finally Finds Its Moriarty
If good looks was a minute/ You know that you could've been an hour- Smokey Robinson, 'The Way You Do The Things You Do'
Can you take a more villainous picture? He's the Hipster Dr. Claw, people!
First the good news, I’m back people! Yes, after an extended hiatus, I have finally come back to the people I know and love here at Shambollocks!, my true home. We’re going to take it slow at first. But tomorrow you will get a taste of an mp3 and some updated sidebar reading material.
What gets me back in the saddle is the debut of my column at colleague site PopMatters, the Rockist. You can say it renewed my self-confidence. You can say it allowed me to branch out of my wee little box here. You can say hey, everybody needs a little break, right? So what if it was four months.
My first column brought a nanosecond of web fame. I enjoyed it. I had me a little fun with hipsters, as I’m wont to do, and they once again proved they are the humorless little turds of our deepest prejudices.
Of course, with fame comes burdens. My column, fruit of my mind, bounced perilously through the web until it fell into the hands of one Mike Conklin, music writer of free New York weekly L Magazine. It appears our Mr. Conklin believed that my column was homophobic, so he devoted an entire piece to not only dragging my name, but the name of PopMatters, through the mud. Right now you either know 1) I’m not homophobic, 2) PopMatters has very good reasons not to publish that kind of trash, or 3) you’ve read the column and found nothing homophobic in the least.
I asked to receive an apology, which any professional publication would have at least granted. Was I granted one? Are you kidding? Instead, I was pilloried by another one of the chimps with which he works.
How, may you ask, does Mr. Conklin have the right to charge anyone with homophobia? Well, he owns a cat. He sports a most trendy neck beard. He lives in Brooklyn, a middle earth of sensitive, tolerant, and insightful trolls.
Actually, he has no right. Other than that gigantic entitlement chip he carries on one shoulder, balanced by the stone of self-righteousness he carries on the other. Mike Conklin is the perfect example of why professional journalists believe that the web is full of know-nothings, charlatans, and freaks. As a public service, and a good lesson for future writers, we will keep you posted on Mr. Conklin’s work.
In the meantime, feel free to visit his MySpace and express to him how you feel about his general comportment. 
O'Hare Arpt., IL
This makes you look like a petty twit. You do realize this, yes?
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First, if you start an argument with name-calling, you’re not going to get much respect.
Second, I’m only giving Mike Conklin a dose of his own medicine. If you call somebody out on the web, expect you yourself to get called out in return.
I can’t help it if he embodies nearly everything wrong with our current media culture.
That’s for his therapist and him to work out.
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