There’s an east-coast critic whose name I won’t mention, but she tweets with some regularity, like many of us, and every so often she’ll mention how she adores this or that somewhat older film. And if I’m startled by her opinion due to having always loathed the film in question, I’ll reply along the lines of “uhm, but that movie stinks! It stunk when it first opened and it still stinks now, plus it bombed at the box-office.”
Once or twice this critic has replied by saying “no offense but who asked you?” or “if you don’t agree with me about something I love please keep your rancid, negative, bordering-on-Satanic opinions to yourself because my love for certain films is sacred and shouldn’t be challenged if I express it on Twitter, so please don’t bring me down and don’t put my friends down…please just agree with me and radiate alpha vibes or keep to your own corner.”
My reply is usually something along the lines of “wait…on Twitter you want people to be well-behaved? On Twitter this or that person sharing views in a blunt fashion gets you upset? Where do you think we are, in Lytton Strachey‘s apartment in Bloomsbury?”
If you can’t stand the heat, you shouldn’t be in the kitchen in the first place.