Cyberpig Admits IPR is Dead

On IPR’s December 2017 Open Thread spammer-killer and vandalism victim Chuck Moulton asks

Is IPR officially dead?

To which the Cyberpig replies

At the moment it’s pretty dead. I’m hoping it doesn’t stay dead, but I’m not sure whether or when I am up for trying to revive it yet again if I don’t get much help in doing so.

In other words, IPR is dead, and despite the Cyberpig’s oinks, it ain’t no Lazarus.

In a futile attempt to recusitate his website, Cyberpig posted a lame January 2018 Open Thread. So far, the only people to comment are Cyberpig, his sockpuppet Gina (AKA V for Vagina) and Crapozzi.

It’s time to jump ship people.  IPR is dead, even its leader admits.  Come on over to IPR-X for the latest in third party and independent news.

To Kill A Spammer

Over at the other place, former IPR contributor Chuck Moulton expressed disgust over all the boring, esoteric discussions on philosophy (how many angels can fit on the head of a pin) that have been occurring on IPR recently, mostly involving Crapozzi.  On one nonsense thread completely irrelevant to third party and independent politics, Moulton left a philosophic comment of his own, one which was actually wildly entertaining:

. . .

One of my biggest pet peeves is spam: unsolicited bulk email. I’ve had a long history fighting spam.

. . .

When in college I had a lot of free time on my hands, so every time I was sent spam I would investigate all the domains and IP addresses involved, report it to everyone involved, find the home address and phone number of the spammer, and call him at 3 am every night harrassing him until he begged me to stop and took me off his list. This was highly effective: apparently spammers were so afraid of me that I was put on a “don’t fuck with this guy” list amd they avoided me for around 5 years.

Unfortunately the landscape has changed. First, it is a lot harder to identify spammers.

. . .

This December I was getting a spam every single day to a fake shopping site pandering knick knacks I don’t give a damn about. When I tracked down the offender and asked him to stop, he added me to a bunch more lists. Now instead of getting 1 spam a day from that guy, I literally get 5 emails an hour — all with no opt-out link.

Here is how this ties in to libertarian philosophy:

I think we all agree the government does some things that it shouldn’t. It may be moral (though not legal) to flout some laws. For example, if the government bans oral sex, a person may be justified in ignoring that law. On the flip side, perhaps the government does not do some things that it should. For example, if the government declines to do anything about murder, rape, or robbery, we might be outraged. In that case, vigilante justice may be reasonable.

. . .

Because spam is one of my pet peeves, I would be more than happy to pay someone in India $200 to go beat the shit out of a spammer. On some days I wouls be eager to have a spammer murdered. Having given the spammer every opportunity to stop, in my opinion it would not be a violation of the Non-Agression Principle to beat the shit out of or kill a spammer because such force would be respinsive and justified rather than an initiation.

From a legal point of view, I’m also fairly confident that using jury nullification no American jury would convict me of beating the shit out of or kill a spammer. I am less confident a jury in India would allow me to take care of the problem without repercussions.

Thomas L. Knapp Nails Crapozzi with Janitor Analogy

Thomas L. Knapp totally nailed Robert Capozzi AKA Crapozzi on IPR yesterday with an analogy likening the Libertarian Party presidential ticket of Gary Johnson and Bill Weld to custodial workers.  Crapozzi is a notorious IPR troll known for his long, esoteric rants in which he overuses acronyms and abbreviations.  His posts are perhaps some of the worst drivel ever written in the English language.  Famously, this year, he received a hilarious insult from enlightened commentator “natural born citizen”, who, after being told by Crappozi that believing an assertion he made required the wearing of a “tinfoil hat”, told Crappozi “you seem to have your tinfoil hat shoved up your ass.”

In yesterday’s discussion concerning the Johnson-Weld ticket, Knapp wrote to Crappozi:

You’re talking about whether the floor should be mopped or swept, hardwood or linoleum, what color and texture the floor should be.

I’m talking about whether or not janitors Gary Johnson and William Weld mopped the floor as they were hired to do, or whether they decided to do something else, maybe even something that made the floor dirtier.

Crappozi responded in his unbearable style:

As a hyper-technical matter, based on 89er rules, no. Nor did the JC and your chairman, as I understand it.

You have the choice of accepting that, or you can start a campaign of retribution against the many interlopers who’ve disappointed you and the like-minded.

Stepping outside the hyper-technical construct, most would not be as hyper-literal in complying with the rules. People drive 60 in 55 MPH zones all the time, and cops don’t bat an eyelash. People recognize that common practice sometimes diverge from the law.

To which Knapp replied:

OK, at least now we’re finally talking about the same thing.

While the janitors were taking a dump on the floor instead of mopping it as they had been hired to do, I did make an issue of it to the extent I was capable of doing so.

Now that the campaign is over, I’m not particularly interested in retribution. I’ll do what I can to help the LP not make the same mistake yet again. There may be a few people whose judgment I will not trust in the future based on their past mistakes.

If, in my view, this particular problem continues to be chronic and I lose faith that it can be corrected, I won’t be interested in retribution, either. I’ll just move on to some vehicle other than the LP.

Wow!  Talk about a burn!  Our friend Andy Jacobs sums it up nicely in a comment he wrote years ago:

Then Robert Capozzi turns into Robert Crapozzi as he sits there with a stunned look on his face and starts breathing heavy while crapping in his pants.