Some people just don’t like me. I know this is hard to believe, especially when you consider the following:
1. I am a celebrity (very famous).
2. I give sixty percent of my income to “Jerry’s Kids.”
3. I hardly ever kick my dog.
Two of these things are true, and shouldn’t that be enough to ensure me a large measure of goodwill from my fellow man? After all, I harbor no ill will towards anybody (except for that motherfucker Paul Newman — he knows why).
This is why it was so surprising for me to learn that there are people out there, people I have never even met, who do not like me.
I first became aware of this after appearing on the VH1 television program, I Love the 70’s. You may have seen this show. According to the VH1 press release, it’s a “fun-filled ride through the music, movies, TV shows, products, fashions, fads, trends and major events that defined pop culture each year of the decade.” Whatever. They paid me two grand.
For people who feel the need to share their thoughts about television shows with complete strangers, VH1 maintains an internet message board. It was while perusing these boards that I first encountered several dispiriting posts under topics like, “Michael Ian Black sucks,” “Michael Ian Black — DIE!,” and perhaps most painful of all, “Michael Ian Black is not that cute.”
Needless to say, I was blown away. I mean, look at me. I’m really cute.
My initial shock soon turned to numbness, followed by denial, anger, depression, a brief moment of total euphoria, and then back to depression.
I have decided to share some of those messages here in an effort to confront the final stage in my grieving process, acceptance. Not to sound egotistical, but it is my hope that by accepting and honoring the writers’ feelings, I will not only heal myself, but will also literally heal the world.
“[Michael Ian Black is]… the most arrogant, self-absorbed, uninteresting, pretentious, cynical human being with no talent that VH1 ever hired to talk about something they have no knowledge about whatsoever…”
(The grammar might be a touch clunky, Keith, but your message rings loud and clear. I honor your feelings. Well said.)
“What does this snotnosed little **** think he knows about the ’70s”
(The asterisks are Maddmaxx14’s, not mine. I don’t know what they stood for, but I think it was probably “faggot.” Thanks for having the class not to say it, Madd.)
“how long after his lobottomy did they tape his segments, anyway?!? This guy has all the personality of a doorstop!”
(Not to quibble, but there are some really whimsical doorstops on the market. Check out avalongarden.com for the “green rabbit” and “butch” doorstops; they’ve got personality in spades. Your point, however, is taken.)
“MIB was crass enough to say that Arnold from Diff’rent Strokes should have been on Roots. Why? He didn’t say why.”
(The reason I thought Arnold should play Kunta Kinte is so he could say, “Whatchu talkin’ ’bout, Master?” which I thought would be cute. Sorry about the confusion. I should have made this clearer.)
Another from Born2Soon:
“MIB looks like he’s had botox on his forehead. His forehead never moves, even when he moves his eyebrows or smiles, which is rarely… He most likely had it done due to VANITY. That’s the usual reason.”
(It’s true. I have had some work done, specifically in the forehead region. Vanity, however, wasn’t the reason. It was because I was horribly burned in a fire.)
From Penlane 40:
“I was fast forwarding through his comments after he said Benji and his girlfriend didn’t do it doggy style… what an idiot!”
(I did indeed feel like an idiot after speaking to a number of veterinarians and learning that the only way Benji and his girlfriend could possibly have “done it” was doggy style. Mea culpa.)
There are, of course, more. Hundreds more. To those people, and to the thousands more who did not have the courage to write, I want to say this: I am really, really, really, really, really sorry. There aren’t enough “really’s” to convey how sorry I am. Further, know this: I have learned from this experience, and I have changed.
I only hope these same people will accept and support me on my next television project, Albert Schweitzer Can Suck Me, in which I use my winning sense of humor to rip the famed humanitarian a new asshole.