To the Assclown Who Said “Have Some Humility”

Ladies? Fuck yeah, you deserve more and BETTER.

Rachel Presser


White woman in a fancy gold dress and heels in a luxurious dark green and gold hotel room, lounging on upholstered green chair like a 1940s movie star
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There’s this contingent of commenters I simply refer to as “The Manbabies of Medium”.

They have bland, generic names and those gray no-face avatars, or a colored circle with a singular letter. They’re not here for dialogue. They’re here to shit-stir and nothing more.

Sometimes, they come for my pieces. Which is fine so long as they’re paying members and I get that meter running whether it’s a fervent fan or a troll frothing at the mouth, with his dick about to fall off because a woman wrote things on the Internet.

But lately, they’ve been coming for OTHER women writers’ pieces, which I happen to have comments on. Descending like a pack of locusts, they’re swarming all over those comments and Medium sees it fit to send me notifications of these events straight to my business inbox instead of fans and respectful debaters leaving responses. My toads can’t eat the locusts fast enough, so they keep dropping eggs.

Most of the time, I just ignore the comments and proceed to block the ever-prattling manbabies. They’re not worth the time and energy, whatever I gotta say won’t be taken in good faith so I just delete the email and go on with my life. But I’m not afraid to weaponize my Twitter following if they REALLY get up in my grill, and proceed to continually harass me or other writers.

Sound harsh? Well, we got a saying back in The Bronx. It goes, “Don’t fucking scream and cry about how you got stung after you just kicked a hornets’ nest.”

Women who are visible online can also never respond to harassment the “right” way. We’re going to be misconstrued regardless, our anger mocked and the notion of personal space (digital or otherwise) sneered upon.

I got far more divine uses for my time and energy than to respond to them. They usually say the same old boring shit anyway, and are just attention-seekers hoping they get under our skin deeper than a Clarins treatment.

But one day, a whiny manbaby’s comment actually stuck out to me.



Rachel Presser

Game dev, writer, small biz & tax consultant to indie devs. That loud socialist Frog Slut from The Bronx, now in Angel City.