Amateur Scribe

(The Original)

Stop the Press! Imposter Alert!

Read it and weep folks. I’ve got competition:


Sherlock Holmes had Moriarty; Bond had Blofeld; Superted, I suppose, had Texas Pete.


But I always thought I was too even-tempered to have a nemesis. Until now.


His name is Tyler Brown, he has just started a new Blog and he has callously filched my nom de plume. Even worse, he has splurged on the fabled “” domain name which I passed up in the beginning because it would have cost me money. Big mistake.


So now there are three of us jostling for position in the increasingly crowded “Unpaid Essayist” market.  I came across the splendidly lyrical prose of my other interloper on the website “Literotica” some time ago, but the crucial difference, Tyler, is that this fellow has talent. My God, he writes like he has Playboy TV and Lady Chatterley’s Lover on a permanent loop in his brain. He must need fifteen cold showers and a wad of industrial strength Kleenex just to knock out a paragraph.  – If you have a back-catalogue that includes the likes of “Hot Tub and Hash”, young Mr Brown, then I will concede you deserve to be called whatever you like.




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Nemesis: But Holmes respected Moriarty all the more because he didn't write like a catatonic baboon

This new blog problem is serious, though. The purity of Tyler’s url puts him at the top of the pile with the search engines. My site, with its, well, amateurish (.webeden) suffix, looks like a snivelling piece of plagiarism by comparison: He’s got the domain, so surely his is the original and the best – right? Stands to reason.


And that’s the thing that brings me out in a cold sweat: People might put “Amateur Scribe” in Google and think I’m him. They will read clumsy, earnest tributes to the Nintendo Wii and our Lord Jesus Christ and think they were written by me. They will scratch their heads in bemusement as they learn of my elopement to New Jersey, my nauseatingly sentimental girlfriend called Lauren who urges me forward with encouraging, emoticon-riddled messages after every post, and my utter inability to write anything of any interest whatsoever.

I realise I may be coming across as a touch hyper-sensitive. The guy is young and painfully sincere and he is clearly blissfully unaware of my pitiful existence – he probably thinks the narcissism of Googling oneself is a sin up there with masturbation or sex before marriage - But some simple internet research before he set off on his career as a crashingly mediocre blogger would have told him that I WAS BLOODY WELL HERE FIRST! I’m pretty certain has yet to be snapped up – perhaps he could have laid claim to that instead of pissing on my parade.


I will accept a shred of responsibility for this disaster. When I set up this website and wrote my first few articles, I had earmarked the moniker “Grumpy Badger” – A nickname (affectionate, I hope) attributed to my gentle misanthropy rather than all my colleagues thinking I was a miserable bastard – But I quickly found that  had already been taken by an online games company. Fair enough, I thought – That’s clearly out – I will not fly my little satirical scribblings up your well established entrepreneurial flagpole.


Now I'm grumpy...

I thought “Amateur Scribe” had the right kind of self-deprecating flavour – not too smug but with a soupcon of wry humour (not to mention, of course, the home-made porn search connotations – “looking for sexy amateurs? Come and read about Sue Barker”) so I plumped for that. I must admit to some uncertainty as to the wisdom of my decision after cautiously canvassing opinion and drawing some blank looks, but, hey, over the last 18 months I’ve grown kind of protective.


Anyways, this nemesis business is quite good fun. Channelling all of one’s bile and hatred into the character assassination of a semi-literate, god-squadding American can be strangely fulfilling.


But I admit it’s a little bit naughty – After all, I’ve never even met the little scrote! Indeed, I’m almost certain he is a much better human being than me. Clearly he is a pious man, imparting his life experiences with humility and grace. I’m sure, were I to dig around a little, I would find young Tyler enrols in volunteer groups to help out under-privileged kids, and frequently assists old ladies with their shopping. However, my only concern is that he NICKED MY BLOODY NAME – so, to me, he is a thieving Yankee simpleton with all the creativity of a lobotomised gerbil. God bless the internet.

It would be churlish of me to pick apart his simplistic prose, but please feel free to log on yourselves and have a trawl around. I feel certain you will gain rich fulfilment from the pearls of wisdom our hero is imparting. Take this, for example:


It’s under the heading “My Life Stories”. And what a life. Michael Palin beware – this guy has seen some serious shit in his time:


Friend: So Tyler, what would you say was the defining story from your pissy little life?

Tyler Brown: Well I once played a computer game with my left hand. (Guffaws inanely) It was awesome.


OK – enough already. All competition is good competition and all that, but, in all seriousness – he must be destroyed. So I implore you all to go onto and post long, impassioned eulogies to Darwin, or the fact that, when it comes down to it, you simply prefer the PS3.

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