All I did was post a comment.

I have like 25k karma on reddit, total, which means I’m a failure. I have a podcast and a soundcloud, their combined listens is less than ten thousand. I have no influence or pull in the world, social or otherwise. My plants don’t even like me. Why is this happening to me?

It started with the first trailer for Bee Movie. The Jerry Seinfeld movie. I watched it in the theaters when it came out in like 2005 or whenever.

I hated it. It was so obvious that Seinfeld thought he was way funnier than he actually is (and don’t get me wrong, he’s pretty funny sometimes!) but the trailer had just so obviously come from one of those meetings with out of touch suits nodding at him and going, “Oh yeah, Jerry, fans, and water hoses for the windshield wiper fluid, that’s genius, and we’ll give your costume a really big head, they’ll think it’s hilarious, please sign here.”

I hated it, didn’t see the animated movie, and went on with my life.

Then, years and years later, I was on a thread in reddit called Why Does Disney Make So Many Live Action Remakes? and my life changed forever.

Through a series of comments involving the question why does Disney make so many live action remakes (the answer is the number 1,263,521,126.) that led to discussions of what other properties they’d remake once they’re out of their animated classics, the idea came to Pixar and computer animated movies, and inevitably the original Bee Movie trailer came up.

Someone posted the trailer. I watched it again and fucking hated it even more.

I typed the comment, “Jerry Seinfeld seems like such an insufferable cunt.” I expected no up votes except maybe one from the OP, as the comment was already buried.

I shut my laptop (it was 4 pm and I’d slept all day after calling into work) and went back to sleep.

Then, it started happening. And now I don’t know what to do.

Because I think Jerry Seinfeld is trying to kill me.

Not him, personally, but his hired cabal. He has as many of those guys as he wants. Organized crime is nothing for people as rich as Jerry Seinfeld. Once you’re on top of the capitalist heap, you can do anything you want. There are no laws.

Jeffrey Epstein getting whacked. Nothing. The Panama Papers? Nothing. Trump doing anything. Nothing. The Clintons doing anything. Nothing. But one of us peasants gets caught with the wrong amount of bud and we’re an asset for the prison industrial complex the rest of our lives. That becomes our purpose in life.

But strike gold, impress the right people, make the right money for them, then you’re set. You get paid essentially to exist. And you can indulge in whatever luxuries you choose.

I can only imagine the sort of decadence filmmaker Ari Aster has experienced in the past year. Orgies with high school girls, exotic fruits with the seeds taken out, whatever he wants.

Hell, Jerry himself dated a 17 year old openly in the mid 90s and no one batted an eye. Try dating a 17 year old in your community. I’ll bet your own mother won’t even invite you to Christmas parties anymore. And that’s if you don’t get arrested.

But I’m not successful. I’m not Jewish, not even a little bit. I’m not a woman, so I can’t just make a video where I half-seriously ask a legendary author to fuck me or make a video about my vagina and watch them go viral.

So I have no way of fighting back. I’ve never even remotely achieved anything resembling success. I have 10 grand in the bank and it took me my entire professional career to save it up. I’m not good at my job, which is why I called in this morning. I clean toilets on Saturdays. I work at a podcast studio part time but they don’t really like me, either.

I’m nothing.

I just posted a comment.

The first guy I noticed was at the tree. He wanted me to see him. He looks just like you’d imagine — sunglasses, a long coat, and a very inconspicuous automatic rifle hanging from one hand. He looked like a secret government agent with an automatic rifle.

I got a note on my front door as soon as I saw him. I didn’t notice it until the next morning when I left for work because I’m not used to notes on my front door.

“Delete the comment”, it said.

I comment on a lot of shit, people. So I didn’t know which one they meant. In fact, I thought they meant a comment I’d written earlier that day about how much I hate Bo Burnham. So I deleted that.

But a few days later I had several messages in Messenger. They all said the same thing.

“Delete the comment. You know which one.”

Problem was, I don’t know what comment they meant.

So I still did nothing. I sure as hell wasn’t going to delete my entire reddit history. I’ve been on there almost five years. Plus, that profile is part of my identity now.

I started getting suspicious when a boxed set of the entire run of Seinfeld. showed up next.

It was unpackaged, just lying there on my doormat, with one note on it.

“Watch these. You’ll see why you’re wrong. He’s a genius.”

I had no desire to watch the entirety of Seinfeld. That was baby boomer shit. It thought it must be of my neighbor, so I put it in front of my neighbors’ door and went and got ice cream.

But while I was in the drive through at Dairy Queen, it hit me.

The Jerry Seinfeld comment. By then it had been like several weeks since I posted it.

On my way back from ice cream I realized my brakes were cut and I slammed into the dumpster in my parking lot. I was unharmed, but I immediately dug into my reddit history, found the comment, and deleted it.

I haven’t been harrassed since. I feel like I should’ve at least tried to fight the system, but I’m really afraid of pain.

The first question I had was, why the hell would Seinfeld care? I never really got my answer, but my best guess would be the same answer to everything, the simplest one:

Because he could, and because he’s an insufferable cunt.

Everything is a work in progress.