Let's have a seat together, you and I, Reuben G. Baron. It is already apparent thanks to the dearth of wisdom you possess in regards to your inability to keep your personal information away from the prying eyes of the internet, that you live in an exceedingly comfortable, little "bubble". I've no qualms whatsoever in making the assumption that you are coddled on a regular basis, regardless of the quality of any sort of "work" you invest (little) time into. Your parents seem fairly well-off, you live in an arguably pleasant neighborhood, and I'm more than certain you're surrounded by those who laud over your accomplishments with terms of endearment and well-wishes.
Reuben G. Baron, this is not how the world operates. This bubble you've enveloped yourself in is going to be critically damaging to your future if it is not properly recognized, as it has given you a sense of security where-in you feel as though the world will treat you fairly, simply because you tried. Were you any run-of-the-mill, average citizen I'd tip my hat and continue walking, but given that you have expressed an interest in delving into pursuits that are decidedly artistic, not to mention overwhelmingly cut-throat, such as (faux) journalism and cinematography, I feel morally obligated to address several issues that will undoubtedly bring these aspirations to a violent, sudden halt.
Your intention to "interview" our esteemed Commander was nothing shy of a career-ending farce. While it may pass amongst your social circles as acceptable behaviour to attempt and belittle someone with decidedly "anti-SJW" tendencies, you would be hard-pressed to have picked a less-suitable target for your vitriol. You employed no research on your interviewee beyond what a disillusioned lunatic had mentioned on Twitter, you had absolutely no plan or course of direction concerning your interview, and the worst of all: You lost control. You lost control of an interview with a man who genuinely refers to himself as the Commander of the United States Street Racers.
Reuben G. Baron, where you have attempted to garnish some sort of notoriety, or perhaps fostered sympathy points for playing the victim, you have inadvertently taken the first turn in a forked that leads to nothing but ridicule. The less restrained amongst us may see fit to berate and belittle you simply as a matter of due course, but I sincerely hope that you take what transpired here to heart, and manage to escape the comfortable, little bubble you've nestled yourself within. If you wish to succeed in these fields, simply "trying" comes nowhere close to being enough. These respective endeavours are absolutely brutal, and require nothing less than a faultless dedication to success and quality, lest you wind up as simply another "want-to-be" that was utterly crushed beneath the boot of an industry that demands faultless quality and professionalism.
The world is not a friendly place, Reuben G. Baron, and you are teetering frighteningly close to the age where well-meaning intentions will cease to be an acceptable excuse for this sort of behaviour, and startling lack of professionalism.