Jason McIntyre, Tell Me How My Ass Tastes

06.24.08 10 years ago 120 Comments

The Big Lead has long been sports bloggers’ quiet in-joke. But the LA Times’s David Wharton had to go and portray the blogosphere’s intellectual stepchild as some kind of mouthpiece for sports bloggers, and that didn’t go over too well. On Buzz Bissinger’s outburst against Will Leitch:

“The initial reaction was ‘Buzz is a lunatic,’ ” McIntyre said. “After that, people calmed down, listened to what he said and thought, ‘You know, maybe we should clean up our act a little bit.’ “

As someone with a fully functional frontal lobe, I of course disagree. As did Leitch, who wrote about the article — and McIntyre’s disconnect with reality — yesterday on Deadspin. That prompted this response on The Big Lead:

And then a flurry of emails saying, “[The Deadspin post] is like Puffy laying in the cut setting up Tupac at the studio and now it’s time to bust back!” Sorry folks, I never really played that game. This guy named Matt Ufford attempted it repeatedly, and I just elected not to engage in it.

Oooh, “this guy named Matt Ufford.” That cuts deep. The Big Lead barely knows I exist! Why, he’s far too busy fellating local columnists to know who his peers are! Golly, thanks for turning the other cheek, mister! Otherwise I would have wasted all sorts of precious seconds destroying someone with the verbal acuity of a community college dropout. Or, say, an US Weekly staffer.

Just so we’re clear: I never attempted to “engage” Jason McIntyre in anything. After months of occasional and frustrating dialog over email, I told him precisely why I don’t respect him professionally and asked that he not email me. I’ve also occasionally expressed my opinion — usually via subtle digs, once openly — that I don’t like The Big Lead. So, breaking news: I don’t like a website. It doesn’t mean I’m trying to engage said website’s author in some wasteful war of words. Besides, everything bad about me has already been said: I’m overly sensitive, I’m egomaniacal, I’m condescending, I’m pretentious, I won’t hesitate to lord my military service over people, I peddle smut – really, the list goes on. There aren’t any more original angles to take on how much of an asshole I am. Not that McIntyre would be able to take one, anyway.

But, while we’re on the subject of a hypothetical battle royale, you’ll pardon me if I yawn while I contemplate his pointed barbs. Here’s McIntyre’s sharp-tongued response to a commenter who questioned his typically twisted syntax yesterday:

Didn’t know EB Shrunk read the site. Good to know!

You know, it would be funny if it were an act. After one of McIntyre’s readers sends him this link — Lord knows he doesn’t read any blog posts that aren’t served to him over email — perhaps he can purchase his very own copy of the essential guide for anyone who cares about written communication, co-authored by the foremost American belletrist of the 20th century, E.B. White, and one of his professors, William Strunk. Strunk. With a T. You fucking clod.

Until that happens, McIntyre, keep my name out your mouth, unless it’s to say, “Thank you, Matt Ufford, for having the decency to not reveal my identity while I was collecting paychecks and wasting oxygen at US Weekly.”

Leave me to my nice little bubble of cheap jokes and frivolity, and get back to doing what you do best: counting your page views and sucking media cock.

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