Bear this official definition in mind, especially the legal definition.
When we were leaving the convention, I was told by the husband that he got no help at all. Our guests put their things together and left him to it. Sound fair? I’m sure it was, even though before we turned over the keys I embarrassingly went into the room and picked up blood-covered snot-rags our guests had left all over the floor…. with a trash can right there. I mean. It was right there.
My husband told them that they were lucky he was thorough, because trapped beneath the blankets in their rush to get out he found their video camera. They would have it right now, too, if they’d concentrated less on drama and more on the matters at hand. It got forgotten twice, as if somewhere there was a camera god revoking a blessing. No need to go into all that again, though.
Let me remind you people on this glorious Fourth of July, the anniversary of the day Americans like myself won the right to free speech, that it was I that broke contact. The only reason why I was unable to maintain the break was because of her. She contacted me. She contacted the husband. She wanted her camera. She wanted to know why we’d blocked her and broke contact. She wanted to know (honest to the gods) if it was her husband’s doing; if he said something.
I deliberately chose not to reply. When I said she was kicked to the curb and I wanted nothing more to do with her, I wasn’t lying. As a matter of fact, I don’t make it a habit to lie. See in my world the truth is very often stranger than fiction, so I don’t have a need to lie. Secondly in my world the concept of Truth is almost like a spiritual path for me. I have no desire to lie.
The husband is much firmer than I, so I left replying up to him. I was very clear, though. She may have wanted her camera, but I wasn’t going to drive two hours one way for her benefit anymore. I told the other half that if she met us halfway, which would be an hour one way for both of us, we could make an exchange. Damn fair, and a lot more generous than I was being told I should be. Her cheap little camera for my numerous amount of ballgowns worth $1000 or more. Furthermore, I told the other half, because she’s shattered any pretense of trust with me I wanted the exchange filmed and documented using our own camera. Also, as I do not even want to see her face in a crowd, I was shafting him with making the exchange while I went shopping at Hobby Lobby. Win win, I think.
Days after he messaged her back he finally gets a response. “Can’t get there.” It took her days. Days in which we were NOT pursuing her presence, not even by phone text.
It occurred to me that I could probably mail her camera, but then I probably would never see my ballgowns. I seriously don’t trust her anymore. I can even predict the excuse: no money for postage. But I guess that’s not an issue now because today the other half got some serious texts from this person with whom I want no contact.
I kept the misspellings for the sake of honesty. For the record, I will state that I pretty much predicted she’d be pleading her side of the story to her associates with me as a villain. These situations get so predictable after a while, and if you’re willing to entertain the thought that I’m the villain after the borderline abuse I endured then you’re not someone I want to work with.
There are various reactions for this. I can’t even list them in order because they kind of happened all at once. Here they are:
- Well, as I stated before, I’m hardly surprised. And… wow. That she’s so stuck on herself she honestly thinks I want to visit after I blocked her hard enough for her mamma to feel it. Just. Wow.
- Whoops! Guess we can’t do a snail mail exchange being as that would legally be considered further contact! Oh. Darn. And the fun part of this is that she can’t contact me in return. Which means… if I really want my ballgowns I must now sue. It would be tempting, but as you’ll recall from the other associated post to this mess, I’d written them off because…
- I wanted no further contact, you crazy ass bitch! I had already sacrificed my ballgowns to the cause. Breaking off contact was and is so much more important. However if she wants her camera, I get my ballgowns unharmed. Period.
- Gosh, suddenly I’m thinking we should have billed her for what it took to clean the backseat of our car.
- Ideas are not, by law, able to be copyrighted. I know this intimately as a creator that works with people on commercial projects. Lucky for her I think her zombie movie idea is thin, poorly scripted, and just plain horrible.
- She had both myself and the other half sign a nondisclosure agreement. However, the agreement stated it was on behalf of… if I remember correctly… Paramount Studios. I’m pretty sure it was Paramount. Might have been MGM, but we’re pretty sure it was Paramount. So she was, through this badly put together paperwork, pretty much misrepresenting her studio. I haven’t really shared anything about her movie itself more out of respect and personal integrity than her illegal disclosure agreement. But I’d be happy to see Paramount examine it in court if she really wants it that way.
- Furthermore she published her storyboard to Youtube. As soon as she did that, her story was considered published. As soon as something is published, it invalidates nondisclosure agreements. Which means I’m anything but bound.
- Slander would be spoken word. Libel is the written word. If you’re going to threaten someone, at least get your legal terms correct.
- For the odd record, if the makers of the 1993 movie Body Snatchers wanted to bitch I have a feeling the unmade movie could be found too similar and someone could find themselves in a nasty lawsuit… Always, always always try to be original folks. It’s good for you. Like vitamins for the brain. It’s what plants crave.
- If she’s complaining to her associates after stalking my life to read my blog and riling people up enough to threaten me with legal response for things she has initiated, wouldn’t that make her possibly guilty of … slander (by phone) and libel (by email)? Maybe? You see… I’ve not given real clues to her identity on purpose. I wonder if she thought to take the same care.
- So legal leg to stand on? So far I’ve got nearly a dozen and she’s got 0. Moving along.
I haven’t really spoken about this woman to many people, nor have I spread her name. I just want to forget she ever crawled on the face of the planet, because: positive life. And slander? Let’s revisit the law again. Slander. ““.
libel [lay-buh l]
- defamation by written or printed words, pictures, or in any form other than by spoken words or gestures
- the act or crime of publishing it
- a formal written declaration or statement, as one containing the allegations of a plaintiff or the grounds of a charge
- anything that is defamatory or that maliciously or damagingly misrepresents
Let’s tear this apart.
Defamation: the act of defaming; false or unjustified injury of the good reputation of another, as by slander or libel; calumny
In other words, to defame someone I would have to lie and act without justification. I’m pretty damn justified in breaking contact and ranting. I wouldn’t be justified if I had done anything to point people to my horrible guest. Nope. All I did was report what I’d witnessed and my outrage. Justification: check. Truth: check. Free speech: still check no matter what some government officials wish.
In order to press charges for libel (or slander for that matter) you have to prove it’s you being talked about and that it’s a lie. That’s the real kicker here. In order to do that here my horrible guest would have to prove it was her. To do that beyond a shadow of a doubt she’d have to admit I was telling the truth. She needs to do like I did and move the fuck on already.
Oh, I just realized… to read this blog even further after her demands today would be… gasp!.. further contact! So yep… about that lawsuit… methinks… it would be me countersuing…..
Listen bitch. You treated me like shit. I am justified in my anger. I protected your “good” name and told no one who you were, even when people asked. (And they did.) I trashed your stupid movie script, and I’ve pretty much been over here living my life quite happily and not even thinking about you because you’re simply not worth the effort. I don’t know what your problem was that weekend – maybe you got off your meds, maybe you have a split personality, you most certainly have a decided lack in social skills IMHO – but I simply don’t fucking care. You need to move the fuck on, because by the conditions you have set forth today any further contact will be considered harassment – and being as you genuinely made me afraid for my safety at least once that weekend I’ll be doing more than calling the police. Get fucking lost.
To end on a positive note: the video idea I cracked up is moving along just fine. We’ve got players, professional effects/makeup artist, boom/sound director, a couple of director connections, a place to play, and of course if you didn’t know the husband has been studying law so I guess you could say we’ve got a pre-law student with legal connections as well. What I’m saying is, things are moving along quite fast and well. I have plans to get high quality cameras, better than what I own right now for the filming. However, if I can’t get better cameras I’ve made some pretty good stuff “going ghetto”. It’s actually an indie thing in some circles. I’m not afraid to go there again.
It will be a short webseries – don’t worry. Y’all know I’ll disclose the fun stuff when the time comes. I think you’re gonna like it. Clue: it’s gonna have magic.