McGinn: Greetings from the most miserable town on Earth

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By Andrew McGinn, Staff Writer 4:35 PM Thursday, January 14, 2010

I don’t really like people anymore.

I like people on the Internet even less.

Back in the early parts of this century, I once hoped to see reader commenting on every single story we posted on the News-Sun Web site, thinking we could foster a forum for intelligent debate.

But that’s sorta like wishing for world peace.

How could I be so naive?

The reality is, people are cretins.

When they get to write things anonymously on a Web site, they get evil.

But not evil like an evil mastermind.

With their inability to spell and their limited knowledge of the differences between “there,” “their” and “they’re,” they’re more like an evil mastermind’s henchman.

It’s like Charlie Manson filled up their heads with crazy talk, but they’re Tex Watson — the one who’s gonna stick ya.

I know I’m a cynical jerk myself sometimes, but reading the comments on our Web site is really starting to bum me out.

People say they don’t like bad news, but when we write something about a hometown success story like John Legend, they complain about that, too.

I find myself wondering if it’s people in general, or just people here.

People in Springfield, it would seem, hate Springfield.

They hate the schools.

They hate the hospital.

They hate the government.

They hate the parks and rec department.

They hate the north-side snobs.

They hate the south-side hookers.

They hate the Mexicans.

They hate the public library.

They hate the ice-skating Mexican snobs who try to turn tricks at the public library.

It’s just a never-ending stream of hate-filled rants, some of which get so vile and racist that our Web people have to take them down or halt the commenting altogether.

Sometimes my co-workers and I just marvel at the comments.

Why do people hate it here?

I started going around to other papers’ Web sites, and while people seem to be grumpy all over, we come across as flat-out miserable.

And yet, the last time I checked, there was no force-field enveloping Springfield.

You can still leave.

All of my family is 10 hours away in Iowa, but back in Iowa, I was working a job I didn’t like.

So I went looking for a new job, a job I’d enjoy, and moved here.

I really do like it here, but it’s sort of like one of those villages in an old horror movie — the kind where the new guy in town stops by the local pub to ask directions to Castle Frankenstein, and everybody stops and just stares at him.

“You ain’t from round here, is ya?”

My favorite personal attack thus far online has been the person who angrily wished I’d stop writing like I thought I was living in New York or L.A.

“This is Ohio!” they typed.

What does that mean exactly?

I’m from a town in Iowa of 4,000, where the only grocery store in the entire county closes at 9 p.m. and doesn’t open at all on Sundays, for crying out loud.

How hip can I really think I am?

I’m irreverent, yes, but in a class-clown sort of way. No harm intended.

Besides, they say laughter is the best medicine.

But around here, we might be in need of something stronger — like from one of the drug dealers around the site of the proposed ice arena we supposedly don’t need.

Contact this reporter at (937) 328-0352 or amcginn@coxohio.com.

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