Okay - I'm gone.
The reason for leaving is this: I reported a sick suicide poem to the helpdesk and then TWO odd things happenned:
1) DA wrote back, warning me for reporting it, saying I was in breach of their etiquette policy - basically they support suicide imagery but nobody is allowed to disagree.
2) the poet and all their pals went to my gallery and reported all of them as violations in some way or another, and DA removed them instantly. Nice, eh?
What a sad state of affairs. Still, I don't need this place to host my stuff. I'm off.
(The offending poem is 'happy birthday' by ~bring-my-heart ) check it out and see if I was in the wrong.
BTW - below is the original journal that gives my reasons....
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Journal Entry: Sat Sep 10, 2005, 2:51 PM
I'm a bit angry.
No, scratch that, I'm well f--king pissed off.
My daughter had a look at DA today, and the first poem she reads is a happy little dirge about some tragic goth bird who decides to slash her wrists in her ex-boyfriend's bath as an act of revenge for being dumped.
Now, I had to explain to my kid that there are a couple of individuals out there who think it's big and clever to fantasise about suicide, and if you get dumped by your boyf/girlf, then most rational people don't go totally off the rails and do sick shit like this.
Excuse me for becoming Mary Whitehouse, but I'm sick to death of these cowardly sad tossers whining about life being so intolerable, yet don't have the cojones to actually end their own suffering. Instead they write pathetic teenage angsty, attention-seeking verses about suicide, and expect us all to sympathise.
I've been betrayed.
I've been dumped.
I've had a nervous breakdown.
I've been depressed to the lowest point a bloke can go.
But to quote Anthrax, "Life's not unfair, life's just life. Death, not suicide"
On the other hand, if you've got to that place where you REALLY can't see a point in living, then go jump off something high, or in front of a bus. Don't take twenty paracetamol, or scratch your wrists with a blunt bread knife.
Do it properly. If you can't feel thankful for the incredible privilege of life and freedom in this world, then give it up, and stop taking up the valuable oxygen you waste.
NOTE TO MY FRIENDS ON DA - This may sound a little harsh, but there's enough crap in life getting us down. I can sympathise with hurt people, sad people, poor and unfortunate people, but not the wannabe suicides. Any coward can talk about it. Any coward can do it, but the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. (Heard that somewhere before too!)
Someone responded to my comment and called me a "retared (sic) asshole"..woo hoo, I'm well aware I'm an asshole, tell me something I don't know, tosspot!
cricklewood - gone.
I had an idea, U could photograph Ur arm as it is for me with a digicam if U have one, and I could work a way of fitting a design into the space U got... or I could be trying to be too clever by half
hope Ur ok! ^_^
over and out...
--
I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also. -Walt Whitman
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