Do Fencers Hate Me?

Do Fencers Hate Me?

By Nick Evangelista

The computer age has given rise to many noxious entities over the years, some of the worst being cyber-bullies, pundits whose chosen concern is to condemn, and those who simply hate and have an easy venue for spreading it. I lump all these together here because they are all predators looking for victims. They invade, even ruin, lives because it gives them a sense of power.  Also, since they generally operate cloaked in the internet’s provided anonymity, it is reasonable to assume they are by and large lifelong cowards. I am well-acquainted with this type, whether they come as individuals or as groups. Once you create anything—like authoring a book, for instance—and present your work to the public, you automatically paint a metaphorical bull’s-eye on your forehead, and hand out metaphorical rocks suitable for throwing from dark places. This has been the case for me since my first book, The Encyclopedia of the Sword, was published in 1995. Of course, this is nothing new in the world. It has doubtlessly been the case forever. Assassins work best in the shadows. The sad part of my experience with self-appointed blackballers is that I wasted any time at all feeling bad about what they had to say. The good part was I got over it quickly. If you are bothered by such entities in your life, simply consider the source. These creatures of the night have no more power over you than you give them. In fact, they probably have no real power at all in anything, or they be busy doing it instead of trying to piss on you. The great Lord Byron once wrote: “Seek roses in December, ice in June…before you trust in critics.”

Here’s a story:

If you’ve ever visited a certain onlinefencingsite, you may well have encountered an article called, “Why Fencers Hate Nick Evangelista.” The title continues to pop up on internet search engines, so I know it still graces this popular watering hole for sport fencers. Whenever I see the title of the article listed, I can’t help being amused by the singularly pre-biased title. You don’t even have to read the text to know where the drift of it is going. It doesn’t ask the question, “Do Fencers Hate Nick Evangelista?” Nor does it offer a single specific group as opposition, “Why Sport Fencers Hate Nick Evangelista.” It also doesn’t suggest that the hatred expressed therein may be a less than universal opinion, “Why Some Fencers Hate Nick Evangelista.” The implication of this ad hominem diatribe, through its negative title alone, demands that if you become a fencer, you will instantly be consumed by an overpowering hate this Evangelista guy, without even knowing who he is.

I, of course, am the Evangelista guy in the question of hate. Not to be confused with the baseball player Nick Evangelista, or the Nick Evangelista who was convicted of killing his girlfriend by rolling her up in bubble wrap, or the Nick Evangelista who, I am told, owns a lovely bed and Breakfast in New Jersey, or, last but not least, not Nick Evangelista the underwear expert. Just me. I might add, for all this welling hatred being projected at me, I have never felt inclined to hide from my detractors.  I always sign my name to everything I write about fencing. No pen names or handles or anonymouses. I take pride in my work gleaned from over fifty years of fencing, and I stand by it. I explain the whys and wherefores of everything I say.  If there is any flack from my prose, I am not overly moved by it. Sometimes I even include pictures of myself, so those who hate me can see who they are hating. To be sure, I never see who they are. I don’t care who they are. But I certainly don’t hate them. Actually, I think they are kind of silly for wasting so much time grousing about me. Why don’t they just fence? Or whatever it is they do.

Sometimes, I do have to laugh at the criticism that has been lobbed at me. My all-time favorite observation on my writing from a discerning detractor reads: “I have never read one of Evangelista’s books, but I know he is wrong.” I will never be able to live down such an eloquent critique of my fencing ideas. Another message that came to me suggested: “You talk through your ass.” My reply to this, “Oh, he thinks I’m a ventriloquist.” Someone else was upset because I wear an old Santelli mask with a snap-in bib when I fence, something I do because it is comfortable, and it has served me well for thirty years. If I feel like it, I will wear it for another thirty. And yet another detractor reasoned I couldn’t be a very good teacher because I wasn’t operating in some big city.  To that, I can only say, been there, done it, but I prefer the daily pace of smaller.

I could be outraged, saddened, or discouraged by such petty negativity. Instead, I will let my book, The Art and Science of Fencing, which has been selling for twenty-six years, speak for me. It is the bestselling fencing book of all time. Which is a lot of time! I have to admit I have been aided in this achievement by Amazon.com, something which Ridolfo Capo Ferro and Domenico Angelo were conspicuously lacking during their lifetimes. Moreover, no matter what any of those who are enraged by my written words say, despite their loudest negative objections, Evangelista books continue to sell.  This may well create a paradigm clash for some. This metal dilemma is produced when reality runs into personal notions and personal notions lose. Paradigm clashes then generate what is called cognitive dissonance, which may be explained as an extreme apprehension that one’s foundational world view just might be incorrect. Maybe that’s what the haters hate the most about me. Generally, paradigm clashes are handled by individuals by ignoring or distorting the facts. I might add, I have more book titles in the offing.  More hatred, please.

Now, someone reading this might say, “But how does all this apply to me? I’m not an author, or a fencing master, or anyone special. I’m just a person, and the bullies won’t leave me alone. They just keep picking on me. What can I do? Sometimes I wish I was dead.”

My answer: Whoever you are, wherever you live, there will always be bullies. The Internet and social media make them ubiquitous. Remember, though, your life is your own business. What anyone says about you doesn’t mean a thing. Calling you ugly, stupid, or a loser doesn’t make it so. Remember, bullies are trespassing on your private property when they criticize you. So, one more time: bullies have no real power, unless you surrender yourself to them. Conversely, when you deprive them of your attention, they eventually blow away like the dead leaves of autumn. Some may keep knocking on your door to be let in longer than others. Don’t open the door. Number one on your dance card should be to find that which that makes your life shine, whatever it might be, and follow that to wherever it leads you.

One more story:

Winston Churchill, who guided England successfully through World War II—and who, at the same time, was hated by many who opposed him for his efforts—was once approached by an individual who complained how he was being attacked constantly in the media. Churchill , an old hand at fending off detractors, simply replied, “So, you have enemies. Good! That means you stand for something.”

As for me, I stand for simple things:  tradition, honor, truth, and mastery.

My vast contingent of hating haters? I have no idea what they stand for, or what has become of them. Are they still hating? Are they still fencing?

Not interested.