When I was a small child, a classmate called me a name I can't even recall at this time. Crying to my mother, I sobbed, heartbroken by the presumed injury. In her wisdom, she examined my head, arms and legs for bruising and, finding none, she uttered these words which will stay with me forever: "Sticks and stones may break your bones, but names can never hurt you."
She was right. The only time name calling ever caused me pain is when I let the cruel words get to me. The onlytime words hurt were when they hit too close to home, then I had to examine myself and/or my actions to determine if a change was necessary. Most of the time the names aren't even remotely true, all I can do is laugh at the lame attempts to push my buttons. And yes, I have been called a slut, there were even a few adjectives in front of that. I was attempting to get on the train in front of a very big, gruff "gentle"man. I knew what I could say, knew what I wanted to say, but let it go, and smiled. No, not out of fear. I won't devulge my training, but suffice it to say, there were enough others about that if the situation had turned ugly, I wouldn't have had to defend myself for very long. By the way, I never posture, why push the situation?
Since the whole Limbaugh-Fluke I have read a number of retorts, many journalists calling fellow writers all kinds of demeaning names. Though I suffered no personal attacks, I didn't care one way or the other. Like everyone here on OPEN Salon, I am entitled to my opinion, right or wrong in your eyes. The name calling is childish and reduces you to the level of the one so many on this site would call a scoundral (at best). If I disagree, I tune you out, but I don't call you an idiot, etc. And even if I did engage in namecalling, did you need stitches?
If the sticks and stones adage doesn't work for you, resort to the less favorable, and truly more primative: "I am rubber. You are glue. Your words bounce off of me and stick to you."