Saturday, March 15, 2008

East Bay Troll Deconstruction


I know you're not supposed to feed them, but sometimes I just can't help it... I love my trolls. (All signs posted in Berkeley last week)

Anonymous Said: "Who do you want to be the next president? Clinton or the Negro? You don't have an answer. Figures. All you do is bitch. Never any solutions."

Freewayblogger Said: "Dear funny little man, before I go into deconstructing your last missive, please know that I fully appreciate your efforts here even if at times I don't sound like it. I noticed that you spent some 75 minutes on my site coming up with these little gems of yours and on a Friday night that must really cut into your social life.


How long did you wait for my response after typing "Clinton or the Negro?" before getting frustrated by my silence on the matter and typing "You don't have an answer. Figures." Five minutes? Ten? I can't help picturing you in your dank little Oakland apartment, veins and features tightening as you wait and wait for an answer - hooting perhaps, or screaming - in a direct betrayal of your simian ancestry.

Let me clue you in a bit here: the way the comments thing works is you have to send the comment first, then I have to read it, and THEN you get the response. See how that works? Trust me, just understanding that one bit of systems analysis will save you a lot of frustration in the long run.


Now then, a quick deconstruction of some of the hidden gems in your rhetoric: don't know if you meant it this way, but your grand finale and denoument of "All you do is bitch. Never any solutions." is, though probably unintentionally so, a sparkling diamond of irony when you consider that, in fact, all you're doing is bitching and indeed not offerring any solutions. Brilliant, my frightened little friend, and ripe with the sort of rhetorical paradox that I've come to love about you. You understand of course that despite several attempts to break you out of your shell, you've never once been able to name a single act or even role in a larger effort that you've accomplished during your lifetime. All we've ever been able to get from you is that you live in Oakland, are afraid of dark-skinned people (which must be tough on you I'll admit)and are having trouble working through what seems to be a thinly-veiled homoerotic attraction for me, based on your otherwise inexplicable fascination with my physical looks and build. Alas my friend, it can never be... I can take heart though in the knowledge that I'm hardly your first love that's been unrequieted, (particularly if you're spending your Friday nights trolling my website and waiting for replies to comments you haven't even sent yet.)


The nature of your comments, and the seemingly inordinate amount of time you spend coming up with them shows me that you've truly missed the forest for the trees here: Semiotics lad! Simple semiotics! Placing the power of broadcasting into the hands of everyman. That's the solution, yea, the very point of this whole endeavour! So now that I've refreshed your memory, go out there and do it! Paint yourself a big old sign that says "Send the Negroes back to Africa!" or whatever it is you want to say, and carry it proudly through the streets, or post it unafraid on an overpass... Speak Out my friend, speak out! You're an American, and Greater men than ourselves have given their lives so that we may do so. Both this site and Freewayblogger.com are simply chock full of helpful hints and tidbits for novices such as yourself.

5 comments:

KayInMaine said...

Saying, "Peace on Earth", is like garlic to the trolls, huh? Personally, I like using my Captain Caveman club I keep in my back pocket to kill the trolls. Fun times!

Thanks so much for your continued activism. ;-)

Anonymous said...

You spent that much time on little old me? That's cute! I think you like me!

Anonymous said...

btw: how did you know I live in Oakland? Are you stalking me? :)

Anonymous said...

Dangit! when will you respond? I need, no, CRAVE your validation. Plus I'm running low on Cheeto's. And Mother keeps nagging me to come upstairs and massage her bunions. When, Oh When! will you respond?!

Don't make me beg. I won't beg.

Won't do it.










Okay, I give.

I'm begging. Pleeeeeeeeezz respond to meeeeeee!

Janjanboban said...

I love you Freeway blogger!
You make me proud to be an American. I've been kinda low on the pride thing...for like the last FIVE YEARS!

Thanks for fighting the good fight!