When you're a short man, life is sad. The days stretch endlessly towards a great void. We wonder whence we came, and where we are headed. In other words, with no sex to distract us from more meaningful pursuits, we become philosophers.
Many of us, and this is a trap I often fall into, are desperate to put ignorant comments on blast in order to feel a sort of moral superiority. Doing so never actually makes us feel better, but rather just fills us with an anger that we secretly probably love because it reaffirms our own beliefs.