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07 June, 2009

OMG, I'm a Troll !

Yes, me. I just realised it. I jump in on people's blogs with comments that are (somewhat) off topic and (sometimes a tiny bit) rude. I even do it on blogs and to people that I like.

Maybe it's a sign of my extreme old age, or maybe just an unpleasant side to my otherwise-perfect personality. The thing is, I have a number of strongly-held opinions. (No, really.) Sometimes I read things that trigger them and, in an almost reflexive jerk of the fingers, I blurt them out.

Like the other day when a writer I admire did a post on the psychology of how to change people's minds. It was a perfectly unexceptional piece, reporting the research in a nicely balanced way. But I jumped in with a small rant on why people waste their time trying to change society when it all comes to nothing in the long run. (And then some air-head responded, saying he 'fully understood me' and making several other patronising comments which got right up my nose, to which I foolishly responded, and suddenly there was a (rather polite) flame war going on on someone else's blog!)

Then, today, I read another writer's blog and my fingers twitched into action. She had explained part of the 'world' of her new story and it involved mind transfers. These are very common in sci-fi but I have a serious problem with them (i.e. they are intrinsically impossible.) I wrote several hundred words on my obsession before I got a grip and dragged my hands off the keyboard.

That's when I knew. I am a troll. (Hvat's troll nema þat? as the Old Norse might have asked.)

Now I must strive to curb this tendency. The first thing I need to do is to ask myself, every time I comment on anything, whether I'm actually contributing to the discussion or whether I'm taking it into deeper, darker places no-one else wants to go. When the answer is the latter, then I must close the blog of the poor innocent and open this one. For this is where my obsessions properly belong. This is where people expect me to rant and rave. This is my proper place, under the bridges of the data highway, lurking here for unwary travellers.

The Gray Wave Jukebox


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