Once again, I am late in following a trend. Having totally failed to acquire a troll collection back in the 1980s, when it was trendy to bring flourescent-haired plastic monstrosities into school, I suddenly can’t seem to move for trolls. What’s more, these are my very own trolls. I didn’t even have to nag my mum for months on end – they just came straight to me. Thank you, trolls.
Of course, I don’t know what these trolls look like. They may well not even have flourescent hair (although I picture them having it, obviously). They just seem to hang around in the ether, waiting to comment on things I write in the most obnoxious way possible. As activities go, it seems pretty unrewarding, and rather pointless. I worry about my trolls. They don’t have much going on, and I’m concerned that even their trolling careers might be taking a wrong turn.
The truth is, not that many people read this blog – if you want to be an “influential” commenter, I recommend you look elsewhere. For instance, many like-minded individuals hang out on Femail and Comment is Free. Why not aim high and try to make a name for yourself there? (I wouldn’t get nervous about swimming with the big fish – the misogynist community always seems willing to add to its number.) The trolling objectives being met remain unclear, but I’m sure you’d be able to engage in lots of deeply satisfying virtual high-fiving (tip: if ever you end up being first to respond to a Comment is Free piece on sexism, don’t panic – write something like “this’ll be fun *gets popcorn*”. This makes you look smug and above the whole feminist cat-fight, and not like a total arse at all. Honestly, everyone will love you.)
If at this stage you’re looking for feedback on how you’re doing, troll-wise, well, you’re doing fine. I’ve now set my comments on to “moderate” and you’ve yourselves to thank for that (although I’ve a special shout-out for the commenter who decided to name a rape victim in one comment threat – you’ve had an extra special level of influence. Go you, you vindictive, mindless tosser!). And – this will please you – I do, briefly, get nervous when reading comments. I have a moment’s anxiety before clicking on “trash” and forgetting about it again. I thought you would like that! Does it make you feel fulfilled?
Anyhow, I realise many of you will find this post encouraging and perhaps, like cats padding in with dead mice, you’ll wish to bring me even more of your offerings. And, as a cruel god ruling over the blog that is mine, I will click “trash”, “approve” or “unapprove” as I see fit. But don’t get disheartened. I now see you as my trolls and I only wish you well. But you now need to go forth into the real, live world. As your feminist matriarch, I will nurture you, but I’m able to let you go.