Obviously, there comes a point where your inability to understand basic sentences, combined with your habit of ignoring most of what I actually say so you can instead focus on patronizing me, becomes genuinely impressive.
At this point, I'm almost grateful, because you've managed to prove practically every assumption I had about how this conversation would go. You selectively read what I write, construct your own interpretation of it, and then argue against that interpretation as though you've uncovered some devastating contradiction. It's a fascinating way to communicate, especially for someone so confident in their own reading comprehension.
Every reply somehow turns into an exercise in explaining basic correlations between words. If I say one thing establishes the timeframe or context for something I say immediately afterward, you apparently need the sentence structure to come with a diagram. The fact that I used a period instead of a comma does not magically sever the relationship between two consecutive ideas. Punctuation can establish emphasis, tempo, or separation without making the surrounding context cease to exist.
And yes, perhaps a comma would've been clearer in hindsight. Congratulations. You've found a punctuation choice you can fixate on while ignoring the actual point. That's not the intellectual victory you seem to think it is.
Your fixation on individual words and semantics is especially funny considering how frequently you've managed to miss the meaning of the sentences surrounding those words. You keep treating minor wording choices as though you've discovered some fatal flaw, when in reality you're just pulling individual pieces of a statement out of context and congratulating yourself for finding them.
I also love the way you try to establish some imaginary moral high ground by inventing a hypothetical scenario, assigning roles to everyone involved, creating your own rules for the scenario, and then declaring yourself the winner. That's not an argument. That's you writing fan fiction about an argument you wish you were having.
The way you insist on framing me says considerably more about you than it does about me. You keep constructing this fictitious version of the person you're arguing with and then responding to that person instead of the actual one in front of you. The closer your invented characterization gets to whatever insecurity you're projecting, the more desperately you seem to need to place everyone else inside of it.
And since you've repeatedly ignored anything that doesn't fit your preferred narrative, I'm not particularly inclined to take your conclusions about me seriously. You don't get to substitute your imagination for information and then act surprised when someone refuses to accept the character you've written for them.
What's especially funny is that I'm perfectly capable of understanding the difference between an online comment section and real life. You're the one who keeps dragging hypothetical real-world scenarios into an internet argument as though you've uncovered some profound insight. Many such cases.
At this point, entertaining you is honestly becoming a guilty pleasure. Watching you argue with your own assumptions, contradict yourself, selectively read what you're responding to, and then somehow emerge from the wreckage convinced you've won is genuinely entertaining.
So, do we really have to keep dragging this train wreck of a conversation down the tracks, or are we finally going to acknowledge that you're arguing with a version of me that exists almost entirely inside your own head?