Just read this*. When you sat down, switched on your computer and typed this did the thought "I am seriously messed up" pass through your skull? A bit? Slightly?
My sketch-type-video-thing obviously stuck in your craw. It must have done because you're lashing out at people not me (the clue's in the link to Damien Walter's site).
Clearly you're not the big man you purport to be. Larry Correia, I suspect, would just laugh it off. Hell, he'd probably roll with the ball entirely. So too John C. Wright.
But you? You fester and boil (much as how Requires Hate did tellingly) because you've no idea what whimsy and non-snide laughter- the healing laugh-- is and it scares you. Scares you to the point where you have to visualise yourself sexually molesting the dead body of a writer and human being who you dimly sense is a thousand times your worth.
Oh you love it when a leftie blogs something angry and vitriolic about you. You can work with that. But come the day someone doesn't take you seriously, points out your daft absurdities, you smoulder and stink. You bawl and you plot impotent mouthy revenge.
Anyone with the slightest sense (and I would credit at least some of your followers with that) reading your above comment now has the measure of you: a pompous ageing thug picking fights with a nobody like me.
Strip away the swagger and the rhetoric and that's all you really are.
Because your ego is easy to cave in. So damn easy. Because in your heart, your very core, Theodore... you are weak.
But you know that.
*(Reader: No way am I linking to that comment. No way)