"…the site is far from sick or perverted because we post a FUNNY and FAKE movie trailer ABOUT A MOVIE that does not exist.
If you have problems with the site then you need to be professional enough to make a choice.
Meanwhile, I am more than happy to continue donating to charities, negotiating a deal with a syndicated news service to pick up our blog and pay our contributors, and also accept a job as a blogger for the Discovery Channel/New York Times.
If you do decide to quit over something so trivial as a fake movie trailer please let me know so I can find a replacement ASAP."
No matter how glibly stated, Mitchell’s incredibly bizarre, disturbed, and grandiose discourse leaves no doubt as to his arrogance, his egocentric perception of the world, and his place in it, as well as his confidence in his ability to manipulate others, and their perceptions of him and his behavior. But what gave him away more than anything else was his complete lack of empathy. It occurred to me that here was a successful author who had the skill to recreate the most despicable acts imaginable in such gruesome detail as to make some readers claim in their reviews that they are afraid to go to sleep at night. Yet there were parts of Mitchell’s little autobiography where expressions of empathy were appropriate- even expected- since he was attempting to convince people that there was nothing unusual about a man his age (41) proclaiming simultaneously to have both a love of gore and slasher films, and a genuinely deep concern for victims of violent crime. For example:
"My continuing love of all things horror has only increased after having experienced several tragedies of my own from being told at the age of 15 that my father would be dead in less than six months (he is still alive today – 26 years later) due to an enormous brain tumor. To say the least it always had me on edge and able to see that life could end at any moment."
"Then I counseled my first wife, Lisa, in regard to her first sexual experience, which was being gang-raped by two paint-sniffing high school dropouts. I saw what being a victim of violence and violation did to her. Then I had Lisa die unexpectedly to Sudden Arrhythmic Death Syndrome at the young age of 38 in 2002."
Let’s drop all the pretentious Latin crap, and I will put this in the simplest possible terms:
Mea Culpa, my ass…