A safe space means I'm restricting the free speech of others. I'm not doing that and I don't want to do that. You trolls are free to say whatever you want, but I'm not required to listen to you.
A sophism is a specious argument for displaying ingenuity in reasoning or for deceiving someone. A sophist is a person who reasons with clever but fallacious and deceptive arguments.
Basically it's the intentional use of logical fallacies and other lies and deceptions, to try to win arguments.
Odd. Pretty sure I talked more in my game vs. Wally than Strife did, but you still surrendered to me as soon as you knew you'd lost, even though I commented on finally "catching you", since you'd declined my games in the past when I'd actually invited you to them (back when you made threads claiming to be the greatest ever).
The vast majority of the time people start chatting about recognizing me, they end up talking copious amounts of shit. I've gotten good at identifying them, as you can see I didn't even respond to Strife. If I had, that would have been pages of shit talking back and forth, guaranteed.
I don't need to get lucky to beat you. I'm better than you. You're not bad, I see no reason to claim you are, but I also know that objectively I am better than you.
Higher winrate than you. Significantly higher at that 86.9% vs. 92.86.
Might seem minor, but it isn't, it extrapolates to me losing 278 games vs. the 510 you have lost. It's not like a 50 vs. 56% comparison where the lower win percentage loses a mere 14% more often; you lose 83.45% more often than I do.
I've also had superior ladder performances - elo dictates I'd be estimated to beat you in 71% of head to head games, ie. more than 2 wins per loss, and just watching your ladder games I can spot errors I don't make because I have a greater understanding of the game than you do.
Maybe someday you'll learn auto game winrates don't mean a whole lot. Comparing them in that way is meaningless and shows you know a lot less about this game than you think you do.
Look, I got beef with like a hundred children With pink suits tryna get cute You a little outta line homie, don't let the nine homie Put you out your mind homie, just rhyme homie Kick your little lies I kick my real facts