Posted on April 21 at 11:29 a.m.

Johnathansmith, you must learn to allow yourself to be entertained. By now, you have probably at least begun to realize the reason you are frustrated or have failed in your own pursuits. If not, here’s a clue: you understand things too easily. You are obviously far from being able to grasp the motivations behind a piece as simple as the Puker article, and thus, from a reader’s perspective, have no real business commenting on more relevant writings. For a publication whose staff integrity you supposedly question, you seem to devote an unusual amount of energy to promoting The Indy by consuming and contributing to its content.

Instead of touting the dead bodies of your former acquaintances as soapbox ornaments, take from their collective passing the true lesson: that life is too short to be spent (for example) exposing your insecurities to the world by superimposing them on others as an armchair journalism critic. Your systematic pursuit of confrontation in these discussions works to no end, other than allowing you to get off on reading your own words while polluting the site’s index. You criticize Matt for using a widely accepted figure of speech, while finding yourself unable to spell his first or last name.

Your brand of ranting is easily accomplished by a computer program equipped with a sufficiently large dictionary. Deep down, I’m assuming, you are a human being, with the unique capacity to enjoy life. You’d be wise to focus more on this precious gift.

On Samarkand Neighborhood: Enter at Your Own Risk

Posted on April 18 at 1:06 p.m.

Not to deviate too far from the issue at hand, but the final point made by initial commenter 'jonathansmith' needs to be addressed.

As thrilled as I am to receive confirmation of what I've long suspected -- that people all over the world have the puker story bookmarked for frequent reference -- I will say Mr. Smith has chosen a poor example to demonstrate a lapse in responsibility on the part of Mr. Kettmann. Indeed, Kettmann suddenly found himself with a puker on his hands (and, more than likely, some puke as well). And yet, throughout the chaos, he managed to maintain control of the situation.

Who reassured the terrified bystanders? Who made sure the puker got home OK? Who was carefully coordinating the ensuing San Onofre Rd. de-pukification within minutes, proclaiming "We're gonna need some pants over here! … And a shirt!!" -- cell phone in one hand, puker in the other? The truth is, Kettmann demonstrated a high level of responsibility that fateful night, even in the face of endless, thick clumps of rich, golden vomit.

On Samarkand Neighborhood: Enter at Your Own Risk