Aren’t
other peoples problems brilliant.
Well,
not brilliant I suppose, because they’re problems. But –
and even if you don’t know them, because by definition a problem is
a negative thing, so it’s bad, and even I wouldn’t wish harm on
most of you – but in a way they are though. Brilliant.
Because they’re not yours, but they’re really close, so you
can see all the little whirs and clicks of the thing taking over. I
mean, it sounds wrong, in your head, but other people’s problems
are fascinating and slightly brilliant. Go on, say it.
Brilliant. It’s ok, no ones looking. Unless they
are, in which case do still, but say it quietly, like a suspenseful
whisper or something. Brilliant.
As
previous entries have no doubt implied, I’m a bit of an over
thinking sort. So all of my problems are horrible to me, even
tiny, itty bitty ones, because I must explore every diseased corner
of each potential catastrophe. Which requires determination,
patience, perseverance and reserve, and yet you can’t put self
loathing on a C.V. So, when the problems aren’t mine I can
usually solve them. In my head. I can’t control the
real life actual humans, not because I don’t think it would be
kinda fun, but because I just can’t. So I can’t stop the
problems from happening. What I can do though, is run through
tens of different, elaborate, cold, logical, statistical simulations
in my computer mind. Commodore
64,
I think. To me, as an outsider to the problem – suffering
none of the fuzzy thinking caused by actual personal attachment to
the issues – I am spot on with each solution. Of course, the
more drastic options are never spoken, and usually even the more
seemingly innocuous and obvious ones are disallowed, but often my
premonitions (or educated guesses, if you want to ruin it) hit
the mark. It’s not done in a mocking way, or without concern
– I don’t go around concerning myself with the woes of complete
strangers – it’s born of a strong interest, with the detached
wisdom of negligible liability.
Or
educated guesses.
I’m
pretty sure everybody has it at some time or other, a microscopic
trace of smug superiority when one of your example laced warnings
comes to fruition. You share the pain, naturally, because you
bloody well have to at that point, and because you do care about the
person. Well, I wouldn’t
be giving away mymeticulously
thought out plans to all and sundry anyway. Might need them
myself one day, and they’re useless pre worn. A more
sensible, mature person might try to learn through the observed error
rather than the experienced one, but I like to use the involvement in
a friends drama as an opportunity for distraction from my own and to
evoke a sense of usefulness. These sentiments are surely shared
by some, but I suspect they might use different words, in a different
order, or there is the possibility of denial. It’s perfectly
healthy at a subliminal, microscopic level, probably. In the
form of a self created high, it offers a reward for assisting another
human. “Well done you, why not feel a teensy bit better than
them now, because you knew the answer and have definitely just cured
their life”. And, you should feel good about offering advice
if you’ve invested thought and care into it. Even if it’s
rarely followed or wrong. I mean it’s not wrong, just if.
The
real problem is when you go full troll;
Just slinging about inflammatory stuff, all like, ‘yeah just do it
man’, or, ‘fuck it, doesn’t matter, don’t even think about
it’. Or, ‘You’re wrong because of whatever none specific
thing I believe in and you don’t or vice versa’. Because,
well, because you probably should be thinking about it and the
suggestion behind it needing to be discussed, points to it mattering.
That just seems obvious right there. Sadly, it is quite
easy to flip into troll mode in order to save face, or gain ground
that isn’t really there, or ignore something personally offensive,
or at it’s worst, to just really, really piss up a storm. You
know, for fun! And the first rule of Troll Club, is: do not
allow new knowledge to interfere with your point, even if said
knowledge dissolves said point like a sugar teaspoon in a mug of
boiling sulphuric acid. On the sun. Comments sections
under news articles show this to be true. Sometimes I find
myself ‘Heading Under The Bridge’ (that’s what, just now, I’ve
decided to call going a bit troll-like), and usually try to intervene
to stop me from being a prick. The times I fail I’ll never
confess to either, so it’s difficult to know.
I
suppose, if there must be a point, which once more I find myself
doubting – it is that everyone trolls. I do. You do.
We all do a
troll-like-thing-when-we’re-feeling-a-little-threatened-or-bored-or-whatever-but-probably-best-try-to-not.
To. Or something like that but catchier. It’s
more acceptable if everyone knows you’re doing it, in that
situation it’s almost their fault for getting involved, right. But
not with trickery and or deceit, there’s no need for that. So,
in conclusion, I have decided that the second rule of Troll Club be:
‘Whilst adhering to Rule One, you must also announce your
intentions to remain totally, wilfully ignorant to any information
offered during debating conflict – on, or off line – that your
opinions and beliefs are made of shallow perceptions, a widely blind
existence and lots of those butterfly clip things cos they were
really good for holding it together, and that you state that you are,
in fact, probably not worth talking to about most things. Or
that you’re being a mischievous, cantankerous sod. Directing
people to exits or explaining how to filter you from their stream is
also never a bad thing’.
Two
simple, if slightly wordy, rules to live by. Rules that would
surely sort a lot of junk, straight out of the box. If they/we
were ever to feel the need to form some sort of a club in which there
was a code of conduct that required that the sport of intentionally
irritating or upsetting someone for no good reason be practiced
openly and quietly, and with no chance of meeting halfway, I’m
pretty sure I’ve got a solution for bickering.
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