#notmyghostbusters Is Right
This following is derived from a Facebook post of mine from July 13, 2016. I decided to clean it up and properly address the broken masses wearing black and kneeling in front of their Ray Parker Jr. prayer candles.
Dear Shattered Soul,
First of all, let me say how cool I think it is that you’re such a big Ghostbusteres fan. Like, really cool. The minute I saw #notmyghostbusters I was immediately transported back to my school cafeteria, looking at the cool kids table thinking “boy, those guys are great”.
I would then like to say that I suppose that in a way you’re right, it’s not your Ghostbusters; it’s her’s and all of the other hers out there. Let me now express my deepest regrets to you that this little girl so selfishly absconded with your beloved jumpsuited crusaders; but perhaps it’s now time for her to run around with a vacuum cleaner strapped to her back and battle specters and ghouls. Maybe she’ll even trap the limp apparition of your deceased and disgraced formative years.
This is no doubt a dark day that will forever besmirch the tomes of popular culture but I believe that given your strong and no doubt carefully considered opinion on a matter such as this, not to mention how cool you are, you’ll be able to find solace in some other dust-covered property that will remain yours and not anyone else’s ever in a million-billion years.
For now, stand tall and proud on your soapbox of grade school righteousness and extend your long, stinky middle finger to this movie and those who enjoy it, like this little girl. It’s very cool of you.
Kent M. Wilhelm
I’m well aware that the excessive snark of this piece is obnoxious but frankly so is your proton pack pity party. Your sniveling is putting Walter Peck to shame. You saying your childhood is ruined is ruining my present. Luckily both of those things are equally as insignificant.
A version of this piece appeared on Femenist Wednesday on July 27, 2016