People have to blow off steam somehow.
I’ve gotten some comprehensive, detailed, irate PMs letting me know exactly how wrong I am about, well, whatever.
Once it gets more than a few lines, I know it’s the equivalent of the safety valve popping and the huge PPPPPPSSSSSssssssssssssss cloud of steam blowing off.
Better than a boiler explosion.
Not really my problem, glad to see the pressure let go.
There might even be a lesson in there somewhere for me — sometimes there is a pony, to switch metaphors.
No need to respond to or even read that sort of thing past the few lines you need to recognize a venting with flame, ya know?
It’s a steampunk world. People gotta vent somehow.
I may even occasionally do this same sort of thing myself, though of course I’d see myself as entirely right and justified and doing somebody the favor of correcting their position and point of view in the world.
Um, or, if I saved my final draft til the next day, I might not send it.
Interpolate obligatory XKCD cartoons here.
Funny, it works just as effectively if I just write it all down and …. don’t press Enter.
Life’s funny. But “consider the alternative,” as Mom always used to tell me.