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David Poland

By David Poland

Things In Clumps

It’s funny how things happen in clumps.

Today, my Kickstarter got funded, I think I may have a decent cut of my first short film ready to submit to Sundance on Monday, and a guy who has been harboring a raging grudge against me for years finally told me what his issue really is.

(Ed Note: It also turns out that the day I wrote this and all this other stuff was happening was also the 17th anniversary of The Hot Button/Hot Blog. Woo-hoo!)

I guess I should be celebrating the first two things… and I am. But the third one is where my mind is right now.

Don Murphy has been shitting on me for years now. On the blog. Off the blog. Wherever he can. I have kept asking, online and off, what the rage is about. Variations of, “You know,” was usually the answer.

I scoured my mind. What did I do that could upset him so much? We had had a minor verbal wrestle over the cost of Transformers, but when he insisted, I publicly withdrew from claiming to know better. He had shown me a film early which I didn’t much like… but I didn’t write about it, either early or on release. I had caught him trolling, though he swore it wasn’t true, even though the troll happened to have the same IP address as his office. Whatever. Classic Don Murphy.

It had to be something else. He was claiming he would destroy me… that he spent 15 minutes every day of his life trying to do harm to me and my business… he attacked people who worked for me online… he tried to bring his acolytes to group-troll MCN for a few days until they gave up.

The one thing that stuck with me as a possibility was something off-handed and stupid I said to a filmmaker who had worked with Don. But when I offered that up as a possibility, I was told by Don that I was wrong… it wasn’t that.

But it was that.

He admitted a few months ago that, according to him, I wished his wife ill as she has been fighting cancer. I insisted that I had not. And I have not.

But today, he finally got specific and claimed that we had the following conversation. “I said let’s stop fighting, my wife has been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer and I am very upset and in bad shape. Your reply was ‘That’s what she deserves for being with you.'”

That conversation never took place.

Don has never come to me looking to bury the hatchet. I have been asking him to do so for years. (And he started being a jerk to me, turning on what was a casual professional friendship, before this moment he is now so focused on ever took place.) He has never explained to me that his wife was ill, much less diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer.

But… at an event where I was actively avoiding Don after some run of shenanigans, someone did tell me that his wife had cancer. And I did say, “That’s what you get when you hang around Don.”

A terrible thing to say. I am embarrassed that I said it. No amount of harassment by Don excuses saying something so nasty about someone he loves who has nothing to do with his bad behavior. And when I saw a look of horror in the face of the person I said it to in a very loud room, I quickly backed away from the comment. But yes, I said that. And no, I can’t make that fact go away. I can apologize for it, but I can’t make it go away.

But I did not wish cancer upon her or say that she deserved it. Just didn’t. And no amount of playing “telephone” can change that fact either.

As I say, the harassment that had provoked me to say something idiotic had started long before the comment. But from that event on, Don used it as his battering ram in his mental prosecution of me. He had his cause. I became the great oppressor of all (“Kingo”), so arrogant that I think I know everything and every thought I have had the power of a monarch’s decree.


So that is the tale. Truthfully, I am more relieved to have Don put a name on his rage towards me than to have a successful Kickstarter or to be in a good place with my first short film. Most rage comes from pain and though I can certainly piss off my share of people (or more than my share), his pain and my concern that somehow I am actually responsible for it weighs on me.

I am comfortable with my enemies. I have fewer real enemies than I can count on a hand. There are plenty of backbiters and people who make up stupid stories about me (I have AIDS… I am passing for white… I masturbated at work at EW in NY… etc) that I hear now and again and just have to laugh, because really, why would anyone care enough to make stupid shit up about me? I am not important. And I am not a big keeper of personal secrets. If I were gay, I’d be way out. If I were dying, I would not be blogging. And I have never even been in the NY offices of EW, where I allegedly worked out the bathrooms and had child porn on my imaginary computer.

But real enemies who have really tried to do real harm to me? Small group. And I am fine with having them. Kinda like it, really. I have a handle on what ideas are harbored by the three people other than Don who have actively threatened me. Two of them are just in denial about themselves. One is just a liar who doesn’t care what destruction comes of it, plain and simple. And then there is Don, who I think is genuine in his pain and anger… but thinks I said something that did not. And the distinction of language matters a lot in this case.

Of course, what I actually said might be enough to make Don hate me anyway. And I can live with that.

But after a few years of this popping up like herpes every few months, never becoming a serious problem, but always a unpleasant, embarrassing experience, I am happy to close this chapter. (Did I think Don was really going to send people to hurt me and my family while we were on vacation overseas? No. Did being threatened by e-mail ruin a portion of a day for me? Of course.)

And now, it is out. Not just between Don and I, but for anyone who cares to read about it here.

It is toxic sludge that I have to take some blame for… but which has been blown significantly out of proportion.

I don’t harbor anger towards Don. I’m not happy to be the focus of his mania, but he has done no real damage outside of wasting a lot of his time and mine. But he believes what he believes. And if he never chooses to believe me, there is not a thing I can do about it. My powerlessness frees me.

And now, on to the happier events of the day…

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9 Responses to “Things In Clumps”

  1. library says:

    This sort of drama really isn’t interesting to anyone is it? I don’t really care where you masturbate.

  2. David Poland says:

    I am perfectly happy for no one to care about this. I wrote about it because I care. My blog. That’s how it works. It will move down the page and then off the page until it is gone… except in history. But I will have made the public statement I chose to make. And so it goes…

    But thanks for the kindness and insight.

  3. Mark says:

    I hope Don Murphy’s wife is doing well now… as for your insensitivity, that is of no importance to the readers of your blog. Karma’s a bitch…

  4. LYT says:

    Nonsense, Mark. A blogger owning his mistakes is of paramount importance to his readers, especially if it explains a mystifying feud that has existed in the comments for years.

    And it explains (for the better) why DP can be forgiving to commenters who abuse their limits at times.

  5. Breedlove says:

    “This isn’t interesting to anyone” sez the guy who calls himself “library.” Ha. By all means stick to your Proust, library, but actually, yeah, it is kinda interesting for DP to explain the vicious, longtime public feud he’s been in with a major Hollywood producer.

  6. YancySkancy says:

    A library that doesn’t care where you masturbate? That’s not been my experience.

  7. christian says:

    Congrats on your KS. And this reveal really explains your unconditional love for whathisface. “We’re all assholes at heart, yes? Yes?”

  8. David Poland says:

    I don’t really get what you are trying to say, Christian. I assume it’s a dig.

    I assume you mean LexG and all I can tell you is that we have removed hundreds of his posts as soon as we see him going in some bad direction. I have banned him for long periods. And I am not here to be a censor or a lifeguard at the ego playground.

    LexG is a very talented, bright, extremely self-destructive guy. I did go out of my way, for him, not against you or anyone else, to try to help him thrive. He rejected those efforts. And that his his prerogative.

    Now he posts here a few times a month.

    Perhaps you should get over it.

  9. cadavra says:

    We all say things (intentionally and not) that we regret, sometimes immediately. Humans will never change in that regard. But at some point you have to let it go, especially if it was mere carelessness and/or the speaker has apologized. Life is too short to be consumed in this manner; as the old saying goes, save your anger for something that’s worth it.

The Hot Blog

Quote Unquotesee all »

It shows how out of it I was in trying to be in it, acknowledging that I was out of it to myself, and then thinking, “Okay, how do I stop being out of it? Well, I get some legitimate illogical narrative ideas” — some novel, you know?

So I decided on three writers that I might be able to option their material and get some producer, or myself as producer, and then get some writer to do a screenplay on it, and maybe make a movie.

And so the three projects were “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” “Naked Lunch” and a collection of Bukowski. Which, in 1975, forget it — I mean, that was nuts. Hollywood would not touch any of that, but I was looking for something commercial, and I thought that all of these things were coming.

There would be no Blade Runner if there was no Ray Bradbury. I couldn’t find Philip K. Dick. His agent didn’t even know where he was. And so I gave up.

I was walking down the street and I ran into Bradbury — he directed a play that I was going to do as an actor, so we know each other, but he yelled “hi” — and I’d forgot who he was.

So at my girlfriend Barbara Hershey’s urging — I was with her at that moment — she said, “Talk to him! That guy really wants to talk to you,” and I said “No, fuck him,” and keep walking.

But then I did, and then I realized who it was, and I thought, “Wait, he’s in that realm, maybe he knows Philip K. Dick.” I said, “You know a guy named—” “Yeah, sure — you want his phone number?”

My friend paid my rent for a year while I wrote, because it turned out we couldn’t get a writer. My friends kept on me about, well, if you can’t get a writer, then you write.”
~ Hampton Fancher

“That was the most disappointing thing to me in how this thing was played. Is that I’m on the phone with you now, after all that’s been said, and the fundamental distinction between what James is dealing with in these other cases is not actually brought to the fore. The fundamental difference is that James Franco didn’t seek to use his position to have sex with anyone. There’s not a case of that. He wasn’t using his position or status to try to solicit a sexual favor from anyone. If he had — if that were what the accusation involved — the show would not have gone on. We would have folded up shop and we would have not completed the show. Because then it would have been the same as Harvey Weinstein, or Les Moonves, or any of these cases that are fundamental to this new paradigm. Did you not notice that? Why did you not notice that? Is that not something notable to say, journalistically? Because nobody could find the voice to say it. I’m not just being rhetorical. Why is it that you and the other critics, none of you could find the voice to say, “You know, it’s not this, it’s that”? Because — let me go on and speak further to this. If you go back to the L.A. Times piece, that’s what it lacked. That’s what they were not able to deliver. The one example in the five that involved an issue of a sexual act was between James and a woman he was dating, who he was not working with. There was no professional dynamic in any capacity.

~ David Simon