That's very interesting hate mail you get there, Mark. Personally, I don't understand what gets these people to that point. What the hell did you do to them that you didn't tell us ?
Thats easy: I call it the "Broken Toy" syndrom. It works basically like this:
*Clears throat and starts speaking just like Stephen Fry from Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy*
Person A have a toy (in this case the belief in Saint Avery)
Person B decides to break said toy (in this case show what a dickwad mentioned Saint Avery is and how much of an ilusion his "documentary" is)
Person A starts bawling and stamping his wittle feet in the ground while demanding that the "Big Mean Person A" puts the toy back together. (In this case Person B retracting the truth).
Person B, whom actually lives on planet Earth with his feet firmly anchored in this little thing we like to call "Reality", of cause denies this.
Person A, whom probably still have pimples, lives in his mothers basement and lack the proper problemsolving skills for some obscure reason, starts stamping those cute little feet even harder in the ground and refuses to see that his toy were in reality an illusion which are better of destroyed and decides to call his Big Brothe with the Tommygun. ("We the people").
Unfortunately Big Brother is busy, probably burning cross's and "Sieg Heilen" at some gathering constructed to inflate Big Brothers head even more, so Person A decides to try it himself, unfortunately unmasking himself as a person with really big reality problems as Person A doesn't expect Person B to actually have a backbone and better problemsolving skills (Here that would be contemplating what to do and wether or not to involve the Feds etc.)
Now Person A is in a bind since he doesn't have one iota of a clue about what to do while Person B can sit down with a nice cold one in complete reasurance that Person A will never gather the nescessary braincells to carry though the threats due to Persons A's brain being stuck on "Temper Tantrum" like a hamster stuck in a hamster wheel.
Just like a child in a sandbox with a broke toy keeps carrying on untill a responsible adult breaks though the repetitions of "You big Bad Meanie" by promising a new, more shining toy ( in this case: A new CT).
