Real Names Only, Please

I like reading the news on the Internet. I like it probably more than is healthy. But what I find most interesting are the comments people make after the stories. Some of these people know more than the writers of the stories themselves and they don’t hold back on voicing their takes on things.

One of the news sites I follow everyday attracts a lot of commenters and it insists that people use their real names. No hiding behind made-up false ones. They want readers to have the courage to stand behind their convictions. I like their insistence on authenticity.

My favourite commenter is Hugh Jassole and I have to say his insights are a credit to the entire Jassole family, including Hugh’s younger brother Lar.

Then there is Eboneezer Goose, doing the Goose family proud every day. No indication he’s from Canada but he does apologize a lot to anyone who might be offended by his views.

Other writers who catch my eye are Trevor Heehaw, Plaid Pants, Billyjoe Jimbob, and the Real Snidely Whiplash.

Of course, who could ever forget the offerings of Delicious Frizzledrip, The Mammal and Pissed Old Lady. There is also Blackeyed Beaver, Sonofroyrogers, Luckiest Duck, Franka Footer, Shaydee, Cereal Killer and Stinky Pete.

But write as they might, none of these commenters can hold a candle to Hugh Jassole. He says what he means and means what he says. I hope he never quits writing. That would really disappoint Bumm Herr.

Never stop blowing that hot air, Hughie me boy!

©2023 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.