So, Maus has decided that I am no longer worthy to sully his journal with my superstitious words.
I am devastated, naturally, and shall begin plans for what kind of razor to use to cut my wrists. Really.
I am cast forth from his friends list and not permitted to post in reply to anything he says, or so I assume - I was blocked from replying to his latest attempted poison pen letter, where he chided me for using 'superstition' to deal with my ongoing grief over the death of my wife, although giving a straight answer to a simple question was just 'not worth bothering with.'
This was accompanied by a bitter little gem from his partner, who is apparently "glad that he won't ever have to deal with me again."
And thanks to the lock, there's no danger that I'll lessen their gratification over having the last word. There. Unless they read this, but frankly, if they do, go ahead and stay happy, guys. I wish you well.
So, it's actually a good thing. I spent a lot of time and energy in what I believed was a friendship with this guy. I even went so far as to suggest that Maus could, if he needed a place, stay with Penny and me while looking into music here in Oregon, but the circumstances never made it necessary.
The main disagreement has always been one of religion. Over time, I realized that his pathological hatred of the Catholic church spilled over into any religious belief. Because of this, and because it took too much emotional energy to deal with his rancor, even when the object of it was well worthy of scorn, I took him off my friends list, so that I could read without being surprised by a hateful outburst. I tried to say at the time that I wasn't cutting him off as a friend, but that the mechanism of Livejournal misnames the 'watch' function. I'm not sure he understood that.
And since he and his current fellow have been together, they've gotten deep into the cultish adoration of Ayn Rand and her so-called "objectivist" philosophy. As one of the tenets of that cult is the utter rejection of any kind of religious faith as 'superstition', it was inevitable that we would disagree, but I mistook him for someone who has the ability to disagree without rancor, and really that was my mistake.
So, what will I lose by this?
A friend? No, the friendship was one of convenience for him, and barely more than an internet acquaintance in reality. There's something about this medium that induces people to assume and practice a greater degree of intimacy with strangers than really would happen in a face-to-face meeting - but it's a mistake to think of that extended intimacy as friendship. Amiability, maybe. So I'm not losing a friend, but the illusion of one.
What will I learn by this?
Don't ignore the early warning signs.