Sad Troll

Troll by Alison Day

When I was a kid I had a troll - they were ugly, plastic and came in a variety of sizes with coloured hair - mine had orange.

In Internet slang, a troll is:

A person who sows discord on the Internet by starting arguments or upsetting people, by posting inflammatory extraneous, or off-topic messages in an online community, with the deliberate intent of provoking readers into an emotional response or of otherwise disrupting normal on-topic discussion.   Verb: trolling. Source
OR: Being a prick on the Internet because you can.
Early morning, on Valentine's Day, I discovered a rather surprising and very misguided message had been left for me on my Facebook page: 'FUCKING PHOTO THIEF'. It came from a woman, of self-professed, deep faith and spirituality, living in the USA and although I won't name and shame her, because unlike her action, I'm not in the habit of stooping that low - it is, worthy of a blogpost.
These days, with the internet playing an increasingly important role in our lives, for a plethora of reasons - social contact, work and love - I feel a certain amount of decorum should be maintained. This verbal attack not only crossed a line, it was completely unfounded. 
For those of you who may not be familiar with it, my Facebook is a place where I share my personal art, design and written work. It contains links to my website, and other social media and wherever my work gets featured. My work generally carries a copyright watermark, for the simple reason that I don't want it to suddenly turn up somewhere as a t-shirt design without my permission! Also, I feature the work of other artists on my page - out of mutual interest and support, as well as things that interest me, such as ecological and environmental ideas, re-cycling, up-cycling etc. In all cases, posts and photos link back to the artisan or creator!
Unable to see the troll's point, I decided to report said post to Facebook, via their support. Unfortunately, in my haste I clicked on 'Hate speech' instead of 'Harassment/bullying' by accident, but I'm sure they were able to make an educated evaluation and sort it into its relevant pigeon hole, for processing.

Twenty-four hours later, a reply came from Facebook. They didn't see this as a breach of any of their community standards and had decided not to remove the offending post.

OK...

Honestly, I was surprised. I didn't expect them to delete it - I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself and did, but no cautionary email to the purveyor saying that this wasn't acceptable behaviour - on the Internet, off the internet or even from one adult to another?!

Oh, the devolution of it all!

I find it pitiful that someone, without bothering to find out anything about me or my work, feels the necessity to launch an unfounded, verbal attack. Initially, jealousy came to mind, but I think it is more a case of a lot of unresolved issues from a very sad troll.

P.S. Photo by ME — illustration ALSO by ME by Alison Day


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Strange is the Beast

Anyone else got the bad habit of watching TV and being online at the same time?

Guilty as charged. I do it all the time, my iPad sits pride of place, like a tame cat, on the arm of my red leather sofa. My excuse? Apart from the obvious addictive element, it has become an extension of my world. In an instant, I note down ideas, surf to interesting programme-related websites, interact on social media and monitor my emails. A multi-tasking delight, or is it?

Sometimes, however, I forget to close app windows when I am busy with something else, which shows me as online. On one such occasion, a contact from a well known social media site popped up professing to be bored. Always willing to help and have a chat - I engaged. Smart move or not, this interaction led to a conversation with a very strange mutation:

W: "Fecking bored."

A: "Really, why?"

W: "Should be working.'

W: "Can't inspire myself to."

A: "At this time - it's the witching hour?"

W: "Indeed."

A: "Why not do something totally the opposite - sometimes it helps."

W: "Like do something else beginning with w you mean?"

A: "Any letter will do. If you are writing, go count the stars for ten minutes, or something."

W: "I'd rather get naked."

A: "Well go do that then."

W: "Talking you through it?"

A: "?"

W: "The process from clothed to unclothed."

A: "Ha ha ha!"

W: "Glasses of."

W: "Off."

A: "Nothing like a bit of [edit] porn!"

W: "Socks off.

Belt off.

Jeans off.

Shirt off."

[ I suppose I could have anticipated that there would be no saving the conversation from here on. Surreal as it was - I decided to remain to see the outcome . . . ]

A: "Make a good blog post this."

W: "Pants off.

Birthday suit on . . .

it's the perfect fit.

What to do now?"

A: "Write."

W: "Not the other 'w' verb?"

A: "You're on your own there!"

W: "I'm sure you could lend a helping hand."

A: "I doubt it."

W: "Try."

A: "No-oooo!"

W: "Why not?"

A: "You need to ask?"

W: "Yep."

W: "You encouraged me to strip, so now I need some encouragement."

A: "No, I suggested you count the stars."

W: "Well go do that then."

W: "To quote."

A: "1, 2, 3 . . .

W: "What?"

A: . . . counting."

W: "You are?"

A: "4, 5, 6, 7 . . .

W: "Why not just get naked?"

A: . . . 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 . . .

W: "Right, night."

A: . . . 13, 14, 15, 16."

W: "Maybe you'll fall asleep like counting sheep."

A: "Night. Good luck with the inspiration. :) "

Of course my sister and I had a laugh at the absurdity of the exchange, when I recounted it to her the next day, in hushed tones over the phone from my kitchen. We even discussed the plausibility of this not being my contact at all, but an imposter from the Heartbleed virus clan, who had hacked into his profile.

It has become a blog post, as I said it would, because I wanted to highlight a few points that continue to niggle me. Using this interaction as an example, at what point do you draw the line and shout enough? Although I would class this discourse as mild in nature, I feel it does venture into the grey area, commonly referred to as the 'thin end of the wedge'. Some may accuse me of making a mountain out of a molehill, whereas I find it a classic case of the hazy definition that still exists when determining the boundaries of decency. Add this to the fact that society - in the 21 century - continues to sit on the fence, when it comes to objectifying women for pleasure and I think you get my point.

OK. I'm not that poe-faced that I can't take a joke - I did laugh - but in retrospect, why does it feel wrong on so many levels? Apart from my previous thoughts, is my reaction so because this social media contact is an acquaintance and one that I don't know awfully well? Was it made easier because we have never actually met? Did he for one minute consider that it might be inappropriate? How would I have felt if it had been a friend instead? And what's wrong with a normal conversation anyway?

The Internet has changed the way we interact with each other. In many ways the Web is amazing, giving us access to people, places and opportunities we might never have come across. On the flip side, however, the often faceless contact we have all come to readily accept also comes with a price tag. We have unwittingly redefined our boundaries and privacy settings too. In many cases, we have forgone face-to-face contact, reading facial expressions and anticipating actions for shallow estimations of the other. In this way it is possible to open up a right royal can of misinterpretations!

So, is a case like this acceptable or sexual harassment? I'm pretty sure it would never have happened in real time. What do you think, dear reader?

Final thought, it's never a bright idea to put things on the Internet that could come back to bite you in the derrière one day.

[ Exits *counting stars* : "1, 2, 3 . . . " ]

Alison Day Designs