Imagine spending MONTHS, maybe even YEARS of your pathetic, miserable existence religiously combing through the 4chan archives like some deranged digital archaeologist, cross-referencing images, analyzing posting patterns, and building elaborate conspiracy boards in your mom's basement just to connect anonymous posts to specific identities. Picture yourself hunched over your crusty keyboard at 3 AM, eyes bloodshot from staring at a screen for 14 hours straight, frantically analyzing every post here and building your little detective theories because you've convinced yourself you're the Batman of /sthg/ or some shit. You think you're some kind of genius exposing the "truth" when in reality you're just a terminally online schizo who's so desperate for purpose that you've made it your life's mission to "call out" people in a thread about a blue cartoon hedgehog. And for what? So you can scream "Gotcha namefag!" and plunge the entire thread into meta drama that nobody asked for and everyone hates? So you can feel superior for five seconds before everyone tells you to kill yourself? You're not protecting /sthg/ from anything, you ARE the cancer. You're the reason threads turn to shit. You've turned anonymous posting into your personal stalking grounds, posting deliberate bait and lies just to start drama. You're a loser who's so starved for purpose that you've made harassment your hobby. Namefags might be attention whores, but at least they art, discussion, whatever. You? You contribute NOTHING except pure, concentrated autism and misery. You're a cancer cell that feeds on drama and spreads toxicity wherever you metastasize. You are genuinely, unironically worse than any namefag, any tripfag, any avatarfag that has ever existed in the history of /sthg/. You are a retarded worthless waste of oxygen who should have been swallowed.