For auld lang syne...

My latest skirmish with the American gun enthusiasts took the following surreal turn today, as a result of my confounded impudence in suggesting that the sainted Bill Whittle (what do you mean, 'who?') was "some random guy on YouTube"...

'The Irritable Architect' : "Dont' flatter yourself, Jimmy.

No one knows who YOU are, either.

No one knows what you look like, nor can they associate your name with something notable in another field (Noam Chomsky, for instance, seems to think that since he's considered THE authority on linguistics, that he can transfer his "thinking" and public image upon us all, with regards to politics).

No.

You are a nobody, and will always be, so don't, even for an instant, think of yourself as someone whom everyone should no about.

There.

Since you obviously put a lot of value into the idea of "who someone is," instead of the argument being presented, YOUR argument holds no weight either.

Get in now, moron?"

Me : "'No one knows what you look like'

Except for the photo on my blog and Twitter feed, you mean?"

'Guest' : "Right, because no one has used a fake photograph on the intertubes."

Now, I'm not entirely sure what the point of that would be, given that a) posting a photograph on Blogger is optional, b) nobody gives a monkey's what I look like anyway (especially since I'm not actually - ahem - setting myself up on a par with Noam Chomsky), and c) the photo I posted doesn't exactly make me look like Anton du Beke or any other outstanding specimen of the male gender. However, as a gesture of good faith (double ahem), here's another picture.  It just so happens that a few hours ago, I stumbled across an ancient newspaper article that I'd forgotten ever existed, containing both my name and a photo of me at the age of seven. I'm in the bottom right-hand corner. Hopefully, it should be just about obvious that it's the same person as in the sidebar (well, on second thoughts, perhaps not)...

UPDATE : And a couple more from the same batch.  I don't like quite so delighted to be there in this one...

 

And my letter to a children's magazine a couple of years earlier.  Evidently I fell, hook, line and sinker for my teacher's propaganda...