Sorry, No Comment(s)

Blogging inspiration is strange sometimes. You'll get an idea for a post about something and then before you can even start to write it, the topic begins to take on a life of its own.

A couple weeks ago, as I was planning for my trip out West, someone left a particularly disturbing anonymous comment. Although some bloggers like to claim that these things don't bother them, the truth of the matter is they often do. When I started this site nearly five years ago, the idea of anyone even leaving a comment -- positive or negative -- seemed pretty far-fetched. I'd only created my blog to be able to share things with my closest friends in one fell swoop and I was pretty sure none of them would even bother to read it, much less comment on it. (Suffice to say that if Facebook had been around back then I'd have never "met" most of you, which, I must tell you, would have been a huge loss for me.) Over the years, my readers have become an integral part of my blog -- some feel like friends while others have become real life "in the flesh" friends -- and there's no question 95 percent of the comments and e-mails I get are heartfelt and frequently heartwarming. (There truly is something mutually nurturing about realizing you weren't the only boy in the world who grew up wanting to be Tracy Austin and be with Sam Elliott.) But, as is often the case, that other 5 percent -- those anonymous freaks who come out in the middle of the night -- can still weigh disproportionately on a guy's psyche.

So the week leading up to my leaving for Los Angeles, I decided to do something I thought I'd never consider doing. I changed my commenting policy to require that people be logged in -- i.e. to one of the myriad ways one can be identified online -- before they could post a comment. Period. Sure, I'd already turned the moderation function on. But that still left me to read through all of the idiotic comments too, many of which would "dare" me to post them to prove that I'm not a coward. I knew this act would likely lead to no comments at all (too much of a hassle to log in, I figured), but I just wasn't in the mood to deal with it anymore.

I then left for L.A. happy with my decision, pleased knowing that my guest-blogging friend Frank -- who received his own "hate mail" while DOING ME A FAVOR in years past (some thanks!) -- would be able to fill in for me in peace.

Scott took the news hard when he found out Comment of the Day was no longer to be

No sooner was I feeling great about my decision did I end up over at my friend Scott Prendergast's apartment in Los Feliz when he mentions how my Comment of the Day "feature" was his new favorite thing on my blog. As regular readers know, I had taken to dealing with my frustration with these anonymous cowards by turning the tables on them and posting their handiwork for all to see, complete with my "take" on their efforts. While this did possibly mask my feelings and did provide a certain level of satisfaction (my intelligent readers, such as Scott, would in turn write comments blasting the commenters and thus make me feel vindicated), somehow eliminating the whole thing seemed like an even healthier choice -- until my blogger/exhibitionist tendencies realized my cool readers were now missing out on a part of my life. Had I reacted too hastily or under blogger duress?

Then, less than a week later, I read in The New York Times that a blogger in Madison, Wis., had been courted by one of her commenters and had recently accepted his marriage proposal! While I'm hardly using my blog as a substitute for Manhunt, something about this sentence in the article gnawed at me: "Certainly a blogger thrives on commenters -- who wants to declaim to an empty e-room?"

And then before I could even process it all, my pal Jesse Archer -- actor/writer and blogger extraordinaire -- ending up penning THIS POST, in which he discusses having his appearance on "Celebrity Apprentice" being written about (and linked to) by uber-blogger Andy Towle:

Thanks Andy! I love Towleroad. It supplies all the information I want to know about, but i have to say that it's sometimes hard to read because of the reader comments. Thankfully, I have really great readers (thank you!) but over at Towleroad the readers are soooo insanely nasty! And you know they had their claws out for me yesterday. I just have one thing to say: I am not trying to represent you, or anyone. I'm just me!

He then goes on to suggest that these vicious commenting queens read "The Velvet Rage: Overcoming the Pain of Growing Up Gay in a Straight Man's World," Alan Downs' book that examines, as Jesse put it, "the reasons behind why I suddenly explode at a check-out girl, or why I sometimes cringe when I see guys even more flaming than I am. Or to know why gay men on the whole are so outrageous, why we go to the gym all the time, decorate so meticulously, dress so fashionably, sleep with so many men: We are validation-junkies!!! This book claims it's all an effort to hide and obfuscate the shame we've internalized -- not our attraction to men -- but our belief, shaped early on, that we are centrally flawed."

So I suddenly found myself at an impasse. A friend made me consider that I might be shortchanging my readers by leaving them out of a sensitive part of my life. A bride-to-be blogger made me think I might be missing out on something by interfering with my commenters. And a fellow gay blogger reminded me that these idiots anonymously lashing out at me were really just damaged goods, something I already knew but allowed my own damaged "good" to forget all too often. (By the way, Jesse. I know exactly how you feel about those Towleroad commenters -- try guest-blogging over there! -- but I actually don't think they're any "nastier" than anywhere else. There's just A LOT MORE OF THEM, which increases the likelihood of a crackpot exponentially.)

After a week away from blogging and then mulling things over on the long flight home, I returned to Chelsea on Saturday night and got right back up on the blogger chair. And what did I discover? I found out that I was right, PEOPLE DON'T SAY THE DARNEDEST THINGS when they have to sign their name to it. And my fear that requiring readers to log in would eliminate most comments couldn't have been more off-base. In fact, the comments were just as frequent, only EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM was respectful, well-written and added something to the conversation. And no, it wasn't suddenly just my "sycophants" (as one brave anonymous commenter once described my identifiable readers) posting comments. People still totally disagreed with me about my taste in movies and men and my view on politics. Yet "oddly" there hasn't been a single person who was willing to engage in the kinds of junior-high attacks that were routinely submitted when things were open-ended.

Some of you may still think what I thought when I began this journey. That a blog is a two-way street, so who am I to stop people from submitting their opinions -- especially people who dislike me. But it's taken me this long -- and, I'll admit it, a number of sleepless nights -- to realize that I didn't begin kenneth in the (212) so others could use me as a punching bag. I know I say things that aren't always kind -- but my name is clearly identified as the person saying it. (I can dish it out. But I CAN also take it -- if I know where it's coming from.)

In fact, I was once been barred from commenting on Gawker for making a crack about Cynthia Nixon's girlfriend looking like Prince Harry. But I got them to reinstate me when I pointed out that their charge of "anonymous slander" (apparently what I said was MUCH WORSE than their calling her "a big ol' dyke" in the headline) was dubious at best given the fact that my comment came "complete with my name, photo and link to my Web site."

Honestly, I'm not trying to stop anyone from bad-mouthing me. God knows I deserve it as much as the next blogger. But I'm no longer willing to provide a forum for others to bash me. (Why not start your own site if you're that consumed with hating me? THAT might even be flattering!). If you have something to say to me, you're 100 percent welcome to do so. But you're going to have to do it in a way that I know who you are. Or until my skin gets a little thicker again and I'm in the mood to bring the hilarious Comment of the Day back. Anything for Scott ...