Trolling, trolling, trolling...
Hey, guess what? I have a troll, just like the big-time bloggers.
Well, not exactly. Because my troll is imaginary. But powerful. So powerful that it sends me nasty troll-ish comments about my potential posts before I've even written them. And it shoots them directly to my brain, so I can't block its IP address. How tricky is that?
It's like this: I'll think, say, "Oh, have to write something on Mermaid Girl's ballet class and my conflicting feelings about it and my fear that I might be a stage mom projecting all my own desires onto my child."
And immediately, before I've even logged on to Blogger, the troll is all over it, with a response like, "You overattentive parental twit, you are projecting your own desires onto your child; it's plain to see that you're a bourgeois tool of the heteropatriarchal anorexia-promoting ballet-industrial complex. Plus, you're boring."
Or the idle fancy crosses my mind that I might write a post on Mermaid Girl's adorable propensity for pressing a treasured toy or doll into my hands as I head off for work and insisting that I should take it! really! It will keep me company and remind me of my little daughter!
But no, hardly is the thought formed into words before the troll is typing furiously on my internal comments page: "Eeeeeww, this is making my teeth hurt! That is the most saccharine thing I've ever heard. I always knew you were just another self-absorbed mommy blogger; all you do is brag about your little darling. Gag me. Oh, and you can't write for beans."
Or I muse that maybe I should just jot down a little something about feeling sort of blah and not being able to think of anything to write -- you know, so readers don't wonder whether I've dropped off the face of the earth.
Even that is fodder for my troll. "Readers!" it scoffs. "You won't have any readers if you keep posting self-pitying, self-referential drivel like this. Don't you have a life? There are people out there with real problems! And you complain? It's an insult to readers everywhere, especially when committed with such lack of wit or style. Bah!"
Damn trolls.
Well, not exactly. Because my troll is imaginary. But powerful. So powerful that it sends me nasty troll-ish comments about my potential posts before I've even written them. And it shoots them directly to my brain, so I can't block its IP address. How tricky is that?
It's like this: I'll think, say, "Oh, have to write something on Mermaid Girl's ballet class and my conflicting feelings about it and my fear that I might be a stage mom projecting all my own desires onto my child."
And immediately, before I've even logged on to Blogger, the troll is all over it, with a response like, "You overattentive parental twit, you are projecting your own desires onto your child; it's plain to see that you're a bourgeois tool of the heteropatriarchal anorexia-promoting ballet-industrial complex. Plus, you're boring."
Or the idle fancy crosses my mind that I might write a post on Mermaid Girl's adorable propensity for pressing a treasured toy or doll into my hands as I head off for work and insisting that I should take it! really! It will keep me company and remind me of my little daughter!
But no, hardly is the thought formed into words before the troll is typing furiously on my internal comments page: "Eeeeeww, this is making my teeth hurt! That is the most saccharine thing I've ever heard. I always knew you were just another self-absorbed mommy blogger; all you do is brag about your little darling. Gag me. Oh, and you can't write for beans."
Or I muse that maybe I should just jot down a little something about feeling sort of blah and not being able to think of anything to write -- you know, so readers don't wonder whether I've dropped off the face of the earth.
Even that is fodder for my troll. "Readers!" it scoffs. "You won't have any readers if you keep posting self-pitying, self-referential drivel like this. Don't you have a life? There are people out there with real problems! And you complain? It's an insult to readers everywhere, especially when committed with such lack of wit or style. Bah!"
Damn trolls.
posted by elswhere | 10:40 PM
4 Comments:
I have an idea for what you could write!
Tell us all about Mermaid Girl's ballet and about how you and she have a special bond.
Please?
Your readers are clicking away frantically at your link every hour upon the hour, hoping against hope that you have produced another brilliant essay.
Do as the big-time bloggers do with their trolls: Give him a kick in the balls and send him packing. Hah. What do trolls know?
so hearing you. i think this is the general nature of blogging: you type so that others may read. more, you want them to read. comments beg to be left. and so a new obsession is born.
but really i think the problem is that your troll wants its own blog. it's just jealous of all the attention you get.
Oh, dear. How painful. How familiar.
--Angela
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