Thing A and Thing B

There is nothing I hate more (in this present moment) than people who try to make other people look or feel stupid just to try make themselves feel like their existance is somehow validated (which it isn't). If I were dictator of the world, people who acted like this would be executed in some very embarrassing manner, with everyone pointing and laughing at them and making comments about how stupid they are or how silly they look or how pitifully they cry. There are two people like this on my mind today, let's just call them ThingA and ThingB. (I'd call them Thing1 and Thing2, but that would be plagerism, for one thing, and it wouldn't so amazingly correspond with the first letters of each of their first names, for the another).
ThingA is such a miseralbe, sad, sorry excuse for a Thing at all. I think ThingA is probably bipolar, but that isn't an excuse for the way it acts. If I could say anything to ThingA right now, I would say, "There's no such thing as a stupid question, just fucking bitchy know-it-alls that think they have the right answers. You can either be right, or you can have relationships, so take your fucking BKA and shove it up your very sorry, lonely, fat ass." Of course, as dictator of the world, I would not allow ThingA to respond, only to whimper as it is embarrassingly executed.
ThingB is even a bigger waste of space that ThingA is (if such a statement is Thingly possible). ThingB resembles a Tele-tubby both in physical stature and in mental status. If I could wish one punishment on ThingB, it would be that the god it professes to believe in really existed, because I'd love to see it burn in its own biblical hell for the rest of eternity for being such a fucking hypocritical lying sack of steamy dog-shit.

In her book, "A Room of One's Own" Virginia Woolf describes, more eloquently than I could ever hope to, the type of people that ThingA and ThingB are. The context of her writing is about men who try to keep women beneath them, but it is just as applicable to ThingA and ThingB. She describes them with such grace--understanding where they're coming from, but not sympathizing with their means or justifying their actions--Virginia Woolf was amazing, and I wish I could be more like her in many ways. Here's what she says,
"Possibly when the professor insisted a little too emphatically upon the inferiority of women, he was concerned not with their inferiority, but with his own superoirity. That was what he was protecting rather hot-headedly and with too much emphasis, because it was a jewel to him of the rarest price. Life for both sexes--and I looked at them, shouldering their way along the pavement--is arduous, difficult, a perpetual struggle. It calls for gigantic courage and strength. More than anything, perhaps, creatures of illusion as we are, it calls for confidence in oneself. Without self-confidence we are as babes in the cradle. And how can we generate this imponderable quality, which is yet so invaluable, most quickly? By thinking that other people are inferior to oneself. By feeling that one has some innate superiority--it may be wealth, or rank, a straight nose, or the portrait of a grandfather by Romney--for there is no end to the pathetic devices of the human imagination--over other people. Hence the enormous importance to a patriarch who has to conquer, who has to rule, of feeling that great numbers of people, half the human race indeed, are by nature inferior to himself. It must indeed be one of the chief sources of his power."