Trolling Free Republic with Rational, Reasoned Responses

19 04 2010

If you haven’t heard of or visited the Republican circle-jerk that is, you’re missing out on some of the most entertaining American lunacy you’re likely to ever see. They have it all: from threads praising Glenn Beck as a modern American Hero, to threads bashing the media for accurately portraying things that aren’t even on most people’s radar. When I say “hysteria” I mean exactly that.

Not long ago, a question occurred to me: given the deep-seated lunacy there, what sort of tact would a person have to take to effectively troll their forums? I hypothesized that normal trolling wouldn’t work, since the craziest seeds you could plant would blend in perfectly with the native flora. So, with this in mind, I created an account on the site just to test the waters.

I logged in and posted a couple of brief, rational (if obviously non-crazy) comments on a few different threads. Within the hour, I had been shouted down and banned from posting. Test one: successful.

Sadly, I didn’t think to document my endeavors. So, using a proxy, I created a second account, and that is where we are now in the course of my experiment. Thus far I have made one comment, which I will post here for posterity. To give a little background, the thread is about the man who was recently arrested for making threats against his local (Republican) representative. It should be noted that he was angry at the Democrats in general and the health care bill in particular. Within three replies, the thread turned into a rallying cry against bias in the media. The comment I posted was this:

“The call came amid reports that a number of Congressional Democrats have gotten threats or had bricks thrown through their office windows following a contentious vote on health care legislation Sunday. It was not known Monday afternoon what allegedly caused Pidrman to make the call.”

Now, don’t hold me to this or accuse me of siding with the media, but I think this is just the reporter’s subtle way of making fun of the guy who did this. It’s not actually bias in the sense that they’re trying to make us look bad; it’s more like they’re letting everyone know that this guy was angry at the Dems, and for some reason known only to him, made threats against a Republican. In short, this is their way of calling him an idiot without actually saying so.

Thus far, I have not received any direct responses to my post, but the day is yet young. Check back in later for more updates.


Oh yeah, I have a blog

3 03 2010

Huh. How about that.

Anyway, sorry to have neglected you all for so long. I’ve been busy working on stuff and…mostly just working, actually. Working from home, as a matter of fact. If you want to get into specifics, then I work, still doing technical support, except from the comfort of my own underp-ah, living room.

After catching a surprisingly large windfall from the first tax return I’ve filed in probably 5 years, I bought my first-ever brand-new PC. Nothing fancy, you know. It’s an Acer with a pretty large hard drive and enough RAM to handle my day-to-day multi-tasking activities. Also, it plays video games. And runs all my photo-editing programs and Flash games and music players…often at the same time.

I appreciate this computer, is basically what I’m saying. Windows 7 is, in tech support jargon, “teh shiz.”

Just renewed our lease for our third year in this apartment. Kelly should graduate next Winter, after year of student teaching, then it’s on to her Master’s (I threatened her with physical violence) and then her career in… Huh. I’m not sure what she’ll do. I guess it would be kind of silly for a person with a Master’s degree in Education to teach elementary school, but you never know with Kelly.

Back to the computer: I’ve been working on a lot more of my own projects lately, thanks in large part to my wicked-awesome computer. I have a bit of ye olde ADD that makes concentrating on any one thing very difficult, so being able to have Gimp and Wordpad and Armor Games all loaded into separate windows in the same workspace is beyond helpful. Right now I’m writing this post, watching The Office streaming online and playing Prince of Persia 2.

Legal status: questionable. On my birthday, I went down to my folks’ ranch to ahng out and received a very interesting letter. it was from the City of Port Lavaca, TX, the police department, and within it contained a set of three red-light-camera shots of my Caprice blasting through while speeding. The Caprice I sold over a year ago to my stepfather’s coworker.

I should probably mention here that this same car was tangentially involved in a shooting/possible murder about nine months ago. The aforementioned stepdad’s coworker originally bought the car for his college-age daughter. This daughter had a boyfriend who was into some shady extra-curriculars and somehow ended up shooting someone while out on the town in his girlfriend’s old lady car.

My old lady car.

Anyway, I can either pay the $85 and call it a day (and finally renew my driver’s license) or I can try to put the blame on the real culprit and retain my (seriously) squeaky clean driving record. So there’s that.

I’m trying to work up the nerve to discuss the Olympics, but I really can’t come up with anything other than “FUCK YOU CANADA.” We were kicking some serious on-ice ass and then… yeah. Fuck you guys, eh.

My Tribute to Brittany Murphy

21 12 2009

As some of of you may know, I’ve been writing fairly regularly for a site called Well, last night, when I heard the news about Brittany Murphy, I simply had to write up a tribute to her. Here it is, for your viewing pleasure:

A Tribute to Brittany Murphy

Man Up

9 12 2009

Shortly after the release of his movie Gran Torino, Clint Eastwood said in an interview that the young men of today comprise a generation of pussies. A generation of men who, without any sort of proper guidance, are pushovers and glad-handers and back-peddlers no better suited to calling themselves men than they are gods or rats.

This got me thinking about a lot of different things, not least of which are my relationships with my father and the grandfathers who have already passed on. That, in turn, brought to mind the all too common question of what defines a man in this enlightened age.

What makes a man? Is it the clothes he wears, or the choices he makes? Is it the relationships he forges in calm weather, or the tatters of his pride left after the storm has passed? Whatever it is, Clint Eastwood, at least, thinks we don’t have enough of it.

So here I sit, Pall Mall Red tucked firmly into the corner of my lips, squinting through blue smoke at the monitor screen that seems far too bright on this cold December morning. My right hand rests easy on the keyboard like sentries on post; the fingers of my diminished left twitch restlessly as if awaiting commands from their leader who is too far behind the line to know what the Christ he’s talking about. I rattle the keys and think of what to say next, and wonder just what exactly a man is supposed to think of himself these days.

We can’t all be war heroes like Walt Kowalski. We can’t all be strong men of few pleasures and many regrets. Some of us are ex-cons or drug addicts or thieves; others are cowards and blowhards whose spent wind could power the whole Mid-West if harnessed. I guess that puts me somewhere in the middle.

What makes a man? It’s not how he holds himself or how he relates to people. It’s not what he thinks of himself on those endless nights when he imagines all the things he could have, should have done. It’s not what he does or doesn’t do in his lifetime.

I’m a writer, it’s something I’ve done for as long as I could string sentences together. I’ve also been a machinist, a construction hand, and a drug dealer. I’ve been a carpenter, a clerk, a lover and a fighter. I’m an artist, a poet, and a liar. At various times throughout my life I’ve been a stupid hero and a smart coward.  Am I a man?

It might interest you to know that I value none of the good things I’ve done any more or less than the bad. Then again, it might not, but if that makes a difference to me, I can’t tell. What I can tell, what I know, is that everything has a value. If we all meet up in front of Christ Himself, and he weighs our deeds against each other, I’m not sure how the balance will tip for me. It’s been too long and too wide a road for me to remember all the pot holes and rest stops. But I’m sure I can account for every debt owed and kindness paid, and that’s something.

One of my uncles recently confessed to me that the family always assumed two definite outcomes for my life. I’d either end up a master criminal, or achieve greatness in some unnamed but more virtuous pursuit. Honestly, I don’t know if either of those things are accurate. I’m no master criminal and so help me I can’t think of a single purely virtuous thing I’ve done all goddamn year.

What makes a man? I guess it’s a matter of how the balance tips when you’re done playing. When the full weight of your iniquities and good deeds are brought to bear, when your chips are cashed in and you’re no longer there to claim the winnings yourself, that’s when it’s finally decided. Maybe by God, maybe by your fellow men, but rest assured it will be decided.

I am both alive AND well…also I wrote a thing

6 11 2009

Yes, it’s true: I am alive. Also, I wrote this.  Digg that shit if you dig it, you dig?*


*It should be noted that I do actually get paid to be funny. This blog doesn’t pay me shit.

A moment’s reflection

10 10 2009

There is nothing–in this world or the next–emptier than the air following the final strains of Albinoni’s Adagio In Sol Minore.

These are the things I think about

30 09 2009

I’m sitting here by myself debating which is the better version of Ave Maria. I’ve got it narrowed down to 2 contenders, neither of whom are Maria Callas. Apologies to my gay readers.

The first is the modern rendition by Christina England Hale, the one used for the Hitman movie.

The second is this rendition, in German, by Barbara Bonney.

I can’t decide and damn it it is bugging me something awful. These are the things I think about when I’m alone.