Veterans of Twitter Warfare

He was wrong, obviously: wrong in his interpretation of events, wrong in the conclusions he drew, wrong in the rude way he was expressing himself - the very definitions of the words he used were incorrect! Nevermind that he and I essentially agree, somebody on the Internet was wrong, and it was my job to correct his effrontery!

I sat on the edge of the tub, the shower running, steam frosting the mirrors, later for work with every character I typed (140 max, looks like I'm going to have to spread this out over a couple of tweets...), furiously stabbing at my screen, righteous in my terrible, swift anger, hands shaking. I called him out for what he was: pedantic, and knew, in my heart, that it was so, that one of us was a pedant, and that the whole Internet would know it.