What's funny, and a reason to observe the Prime Directive when it comes to Bob, is that deep down he knows that every one of those "mayo ghouls" have contributed more to society than he actually has.
He's a "YouTube Star" in an era of internet glut. A fat wannabe who has less followers than a baked potato once got on Twitter. His knowledge of cinema and story building is laughable to kids in 8th grade Creative Writing.
Even the biggest meth'd out sister-fucking jail bouncing loser in the Mid-West has in real life friends that they at least hang out with and get high. Sure, all their stories start out with "So me and T-EBT-Card were high as fuck and..." but at least he's got them.
What's Bob got? "So there I was on Twitter..." or "There I was tweeting at my brother's Cancun wedding" or "There I was tweeting at SDCC..."
Big fucking deal. There's heroin junkies in Asshole Ohio with better life stories than he's got.
He's in his fucking 30's, and has lived less than men and women a decade younger than him.
And for what? To spout out the same opinions as the loud mouths in his echo chamber? To be remembered as a fat fuck who was too lazy to go to a relative's funeral? As a loser who can't deconstruct a film if you held his next hot-pocket over a garbage disposal?
He could vanish off the face of the fucking earth, have all his accomplishments wiped from history and reality, and NOTHING would change. Not one fucking thread. This thread would just be renamed with different pictures of some other sped in the alternate reality where our Bob doesn't exist and their Bob got a fucking job, got married, had 3 kids, and one time slid his car into a ditch trying to rush to the hospital when his kid broke their arm.
And that's what Bob knows, deep down.
Nothing he has done has even made a difference. Not a bit. He's made no noticable difference in people's lives beyond a YouTube video and some tweets.
His life doesn't even add up to an Ozymandius poem.
When his inevitable heart attack from diabetes complications takes him, once he's cremated and set on his family's shelf, he'll cease to exist. Nobody will maintain his videos. Eventually they'll end up 404.
He knows this. Deep down.
He doesn't scream about "Mid-West Mayo Ghouls" because he thinks he's superior.
Deep down, he knows they're better than him and it's too late for him to change that.
