you bad. It makes you wanna snark first and ask questions later, rather
than just being crummy Snarkbait.
In her poems Risqué enjoys examining the snarkery of everyday life—with its secret snarky subtexts and those strange snarky things that go bump in the night. It’s a common human experience—to be savagely and cruelly snarked in the crummy workplace, in the haughty halls of Congress, in the humid putrid gutters and back alleys of the Beltway.
“Honey, it ain’t easy being Poet Laureate these days,” said Risqué recently at the Pink Flamingo—a dark little getaway nightclub bunker a mile beneath the Library of Congress. Unlike many poets writing today, Risqué seldom writes in the first person. She has said, "I don’t use ‘I’ because the personal is too snarky and sticky for me to work with. I like the cooling properties of a Taser gun."
In her poem "Taser Gun Love" for instance, Risqué describes the feelings of a Southern senator who was so jaded and decadent that he eventually succumbed to Taser gun love— rather than the usual boring ho-hum dildo love of the past.
“Shocking isn’t it,” she said.
Risqué describes poetry as an intensely electrical experience for both the writer and the reader: "Poems are like sticking your tongue in a light socket," she said. “The voltage moves from the poet directly into the reader.”
“There’s a ZAP of energy—the most personal sort of energy. That doesn’t mean that you read a poem to get electrocuted. Rather it’s a different kind of energy—compared with a Joe Six-Pack couch-potato buzz.”
Hyrum Van Glitterfuck, president of The Poetry Foundation, said: "Halfway into a Risqué poem, one is ready for either getting snarked or rolled; typically it ends in both. Before we know it the poem robs and rolls you, and any typical deep insight that you might have been hoping for ends with the audience of the reading running for the nearest exit."
Risqué has written six books of poetry, plus a Hollywood filmscript and some TV ads. Her books are: "Dyke Acts, Dyke Deeds” (1983), "Strangely Tainted Meat" (1985), "Flamingo Cruising" (1994), "Snarky Believe It or Not!" (Grove Press, 1996), "Come Back Bette Davis" (Grove Press, 2000), and "Barracuda" (Grove Press, 2008).
“So twice five miles of fertile ground/ With walls and towers were girdled round/ And there was Porky's Garden bright with sinuous rills/ Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree/ And here were forests ancient as the hills/ Enfolding sunny spots of wankery.”
Porky opines eloquently:
“Porky’s Garden is a secret refuge in which scholars may engage in serene contemplation, reasonable discourse, and quiet fellowship. I've saved you a seat beneath the willow tree, friend.”
Continuing my online lacksidaisical labyrinthine schmoozing downward ever further into the louche depths of the lovely Snarkosphere, I delved into one of Porky’s exquistely decadent postings:
What does a ponce-say? I care not!!!
“The word "ponce" has a variety of meanings in the English-speaking cultures, and all of them are negative! In England, the term refers to an effete, decadent man, preoccupied with fashion and lacking in the wholesome vigour that is becoming to a male of the species.”
Naturally such “Blurbage” caught my ogling Eyeball right away—it was me!!!
“On the so called "Emerald-Isle" (decadent as it already is), the Irish use the term to refer to a procureror of prostitutes. And on the Isle of Man it is synonymous with vanity, buggery, and a "camp" that has naught to do with the hearty outdoorsmanship of sleeping under the stars!”
What excellent nuanced verbiage I said to myself.
“In all of the above cases, the word "ponce" is monosyllabic and intoned with a vitriol reserved for acrimonious profanity. Yet according to my PBS affiliate here in Chicago, the word is now pronounced as "pon-say." And, moreover, not only is it used upon the public airwaves supported by taxation of the electorate, but it is THE VERY NAME of the host of the daily television newsprogramme "Chicago Tonight."
“Each evening at 7pm, Phil Ponce purveys and proffers a decadent, liberal newsprogram, intended to sway leftwards the hearts and minds of the solidly-conservative Chicagoan. His agenda is, obviously, as dark and crafty as his tactics are! Just as he intends to create a normative attitude toward THE SCANDAL THAT IS HIS VERY SURNAME, so too does he intend to engender normative attitudes toward bigamy, sodomy, and hemlines that terminate above-the-knee!”
I suddenly realized that Mr. Pon-Say was my Snark Personae!!!
I’d call myself Porky Ponce!!!
Snarkette Newscaster Extraordinaire!!!
Viva Snarke-News TV!!!
I’d slip into his feckless journalistic mode— in my new Snarke blog!!!
Whenever it was time to pervert the citizenry of the Snarkosphere with my brand of snarky reportage—I’d slop it on Porky Ponce thick & juicy. Like Janet Palin—thick and moosey!!!
Already my snarky Porky Ponce mind was pondering the piquant possibilities of Snarke du jour journalism…
* The Snarkster is constantly ISO her inner Snark. Being a wordster and a domainer, TS's brain is wired to be always on the outlook for interesting words to attach to a dot-something.
In addition to Snark.me, she has also discovered some other interesting Snark domains and has registered them; as of 9/28/2008, these domains (with two exceptions) are all redirected here to Snark.me and all Snark roads will continue leading here until the Snarkster can develop each one into a separate site.
The plan: to build a significant Snark empire. Can it happen?
Electronic Snark? Internet Snark? Slap an "e" in front of every term, and you're connected in Cyberspace.
HuntingSnark.com -- Hunting Snark
Refers to Lewis Carroll's poem "The Hunting of the Snark"; Carroll, if you remember from grade school, wrote Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
i-Snark.com -- i snark
Internet Snark? Electronic Snark? Slap an "i" in front of every term, and you're connected in Cyberspace.
i-Snarky.com -- i-Snarky or i Snarky
iSnarky.com -- iSnarky or i Snarky
McSnark.com -- McSnark or M.C. Snark
A REALLY cool domain for a really cool dude. McSnark could be a dingbat detective, M.C. Snark a rap snarker. Actually, both characters would fit in nicely within the Snarkosphere (see Snarkosphere.com on this list).
Snark.mobi -- Snark
WTF is .mobi? It was available and probably for good reason. Snark (supposedly) for your cell phone. Now if the .mobi people can just figure out how to work out the cell phone platform...
Snark.tv -- Snark or Snark TV
Oh, man, this domain has so many possibilities. It's a natural for a streaming video snark site, bringing to you the very best in daily snark. "Spare the snark, spoil the networks," notes the website Television Without Pity (TWOP), which would probably be Snark.tv's main competitor.
An affectation of "Snark," for example, Olde Towne, Newe Snarke.
Well, it's only six letters, a dotcom, and Puget's new blog.
Snarket.com -- Snarket
If Snark trinkets are ever sold on Snark.me, Snarket.com will be the Snarket Market.
Snarkin.com -- Snarkin' or Snark in
A whole lot of Snarkin' goin' on, baby...
SnarkIt.com -- Snark It
Snark it, baby, and Snark my fire.
SnarkMe.com -- Snark Me
Redirects to Snark.me; if the Snarkster tells someone to "snark.me," guess what he or she will type into the browser box? Yep, you got it.
Snarkosphere.com -- Snarkosphere
Okay, so this is lame and pitiful on Google, but here's a chance to make a limping word go viral. Possible use: a Snarkosphere directory of other Snark websites.
SnarkSite.com -- Snark Site
In domain registration circles, it's considered exceedingly noob to register domain names that end in "site," but this one has a certain resonance to it. IMHO. Also a sibling to Snarksites.com...
SnarkSites.com -- Snark Sites
A Snark directory: in case Snarkosphere doesn't catch on--one never really knows what will rock the collective cultural boat--this a backup.
Snarksphere.com -- Snarksphere
See "Snarkosphere.com." If Snarkosphere ever goes viral, some dunderheads will insist on leaving that "o" out, so this is simply a defensive registration before the webmaster actually needs a defensive registration.
Snarkylicious -- Snarkylicious or Snarky Licious
Believe it or not, The Snarkster did not make this word up. It's a bit long, but it has that delightful, lip-smacking panache. Besides, the owner of the more logical Snarkalicious.com wanted an extravagant amount for it, so TS kicked in Plan B.
SnarkyMcSnark.com -- Snarky McSnark
Lame. But The Snarkster envisions Snarky McSnark as a bumbling character who inhabits--sometimes inhibiting--the Snark.me realm, spreading the Snark around.
Snarky!!! Snarky!!! Snarky!!! Snarky!!! Snarky!!! Snarky!!! Snarky!!! Snarky!!! Snarky!!! Snarky!!! Snarky!!! Snarky!!! The world is Snarky!!! The soul is Snarky!!! The skin is Snarky!!! Capitol Hill is Snarky!!! The Beltway is Snarky!!! I’m Snarky!!! McSame is Snarky!!! Palin is Snarky!!! Snarky Bush & Chaney!!! Snarky Nixon!!! Snarky Republicans!!! Snarky Democrats!!! Snarky Pricks!!! Snarky Paulson!!! Snarky Wall Street!!! Snarky Congress!!! Snarky Beltway!!! Snarky New York Times!!! Snarky FOX-News!!! My nose is Snarky!!! My tongue and cock and hand and my asshole Snarky!!! Snarky Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac!!! Snarky!!! Snarky the Congress!!! Snarky the Bailout Deal!!! Oh Snarky!!! Everything is Snarky!!! Everybody's Snarky!!! Everywhere is Snarky!!! Everyday is Snarky!!! Every Snarky minute!!! Everyman's a Snarky angel!!! My asshole is Snarky as the seraphim!!! Ginsberg the madman Snarky as you my soul are Snarky!!! Walt Whitman you’re Snarky!!! My computer is Snarky!!! This poem is Snarky!!! My voice is Snarky!!! You listeners Snarky!!! The ecstasy is Snarky!!! Snarky Kerouac Snarky Burroughs Snarky Neil Cassady!!! Snarky the unknown buggered and suffering faggots!!! Snarky the hideous human angels!!! Snarky the Holy Word!!! Snarky the pricks of Poughkeepsie!!! Snarky the old cocks of the grandfathers of Kansas!!! Snarky the groaning zithers!!! Snarky the Arkansas Apocalypse! Snarky the Holy Rollers of Alaska!!! Snarky the Baby Boomers hipsters peace and war!!! Snarky the solitudes of Empire State Building and Art Deco!!! Snarky the Couch Potatoes with their millions of Eyeballs!!!! Snarky the mysterious rivers of tears under the streets!!! Snarky the Rings of Saturn!!! Snarky the Vandals of the Void!!! Snarky Bomba the Jungle Boy!!! Snarky the slaughtered lamb of the bourgeoisie!!! Snarky Paul Newman “Hud” dead today!!!! Snarky Baghdad!!! Snarky Moscow!!! Snarky Hollywood!!! Snarky Los Angeles!!! Snarky New York!!! Snarky San Francisco!!! Snarky Peoria!!! Snarky Seattle!!! Snarky Paris!!! Snarky Rome!!! Snarky Istanbul! Snarky Hump Tulips!!! Snarky Manhattan!!! Snarky time in eternity!!! Snarky eternity in time!!! Snarky the cocks in space!!! Snarky the fourth dimension!!! Snarky the fifth dimension !!! Snarky the Angel in macho Moloch!!! Snarky the sea!!! Snarky the desert!!! Snarky the sky!!! Snarky the airport tearooms!!! Snarky cute Congressional pages!!! Snarky the hot dogs and baseball games!!! Snarky Princeton!!! Snarky Harvard Business School!!! Snarky the sad lost great American highschool Abyss!!! Snarky forgiveness!!! Mercy!!! Charity!!! Faith!!! Snarky me!!! Snarky you!!! Suffering world!!! Snarky us!!! Snarky magnanimity!!! Snarky the supernatural extrabrilliant intelligent Snarkiness of the soul!!!
"Come on, talk to God about this woman. We declare, save her from Satan," Muthee said as two attendants placed their hands on Palin's shoulders. "Make her way my God. Bring finances her way even for the campaign in the name of Jesus. ... Use her to turn this nation the other way around."
________
Speaking in tongues— Modern-day skanky prophesy, Faith healing, sweaty Smarmy laying of hands.
Snarky towns & cities— Smarmy-looking streets Whose people surely deserve Better than this...
Smarm!!! Smarm!!! Smarmy moons waxing and Wormy, pulling down the Crummy starlit marquee…
Bleak smarmy faces— Forever getting more snaky, Midnight on the Moon-dial, Oozing razors and ouzo…
Mountain pukey peaks— Skyscrapers draped in Sleek skanky art deco, Plus humble hunchbacks…
Pinhead pretty boyz— Pale precocious pouty, Schmoozing their way Thru labyrinthine alleys…
Mazes of snorkeled Smarty certitude and Deepening scummy Sacrilegious douchebags…
I dwell alone— In world of moan And my soul comes and Goes like a stagnant old tide How many scenes of departed bliss How many thoughts of entombed hopes How many hyacinthine purple-ensembles gay How many satins and jewels off to the graveyard How many hearts broken beneath Eldorado dreams How many tottering moons falling from tortured skies How many sighing and sobbing sad has-been poets How many times extinguished Puritan pansies How many moon-tints of purple and pearl How many careless curls hiding her eyes How many times Eulalie’s gone smiles How many flaking sapphires Till Eulalie my dead bride Comes back to me?
Ah tacky Golden Bowl!!! Your Spirit done Flown the Coop!!! Toll the Funeral Bells, honey!!! I’m going to do my Stygian Drag…
I’m Edgar Allan Poe, my dears— Hast thou no Shame or Sorrow? Shed you not One Tacky Tear? Do you not know my sad drear Tale? I’m America’s Dead Sweetheart!!!
Come, I’ll tell you the Story— My Funeral Swan Song so Blue. I who died so Young and Sweet, Done in by Horace Greeley and All those Jealous Queenly Snots.
Wretched queer Madame Griswold— Who hated me with all her Closetry And Faggy Pride, doing me in bad, How shall future American Littérateurs View my tacky Murder Most Foul?
The Evil Eye of Baltimore— The Baltimore Sun’s scurrilous lies The Evil Queen of The NY Tribune They murdered me silencing My Eloquent Tongue Too Early.
Sabbath Sun of the Deep South— May your Dixie Dead rot in Hell For I am Lenore, down here deep, Premature burial my poet’s reward Rotting in your lousy Baltimore Dirt…
How long in this stinking Graveyard— Have I been waiting for you my Debonair Clairvoyant Future Poet? To channel my Voice from the Past Made Angel-Flight by your Words?
This House of Mirth and Sorrow— A dingy dreary damned Mansion, My Tragic Muse speaks thru you From dreary Hell’s own Real Estate… Avant!!! Arise Snarky Poet!!!
It’s been more than a thousand years ago— In a little Roadhouse down by the Sea, That a guy like me lived whom you might know By the smart sexy name of Snarkabel Lee And I lived everyday with no other thought Than to love those Bikers down by the Sea.
I was happy and gay as Liberace, my dears— In that Roadhouse of Sin down by the Sea And my love was the love of Delilah for Samson For I was the lewd Size Queen Snarkabel Lee And all the young Truckers and winged Biker Seraphs of SM Heaven, they coveted me.
And that’s the reason so very long ago— In that Ratty Roadhouse down by the Sea My little Ass wiggled with joy and laughter For I was the Queen Bee Snarkabel Lee, My high cheekbones and haughty Tits Bore me away each & every Lost Weekend To that Elysian Emporium Love Pit down By the Sea called the lovely No Tell Motel.
Hunky biker Angels knew me so well— Better than even I knew myself dontchaknow Yes, that’s the reason Men are so nice, Down there in the Roadhouse by the Sea, They know what all dangerous men know How to chill and thrill a Queen to death.
My Love grew stronger and stronger— The young cute Bikers were so Seminal Far wiser than them though, my dears, Was I, Snarkabel Lee Drag Queen by the Sea I knew their greasy oily Death Angel ducktails And slim Hog-Riding hips better than them!
Moon beams coming down thru motel blinds— Doing them in, bulging their ogling Eyeballs, Their snarky climaxes my Rough Trade of Love, How well they knew my virgin retread Lips
Going down on their hard Harley-Dave Dicks Turning motel rooms into sexy Sepulchers of The Living Dead Hard Breathing Lizard Boyz
Trolls are everywhere— They’re down there in the subways When you least expect it watch out They pose as if they’re simply normal Yet they reveal themselves occasionally Trolls are disguised and disgusting Especially the ones in New York City Trolls are everywhere— Trolls haunt the Blogosphere They slither & slide—so snarkily Trolls are sharks—of the Snarkosphere They gobble up surfers—here & there Old tires and garbage—you name it Pilot fish & bottom fish—follow them Scummy little sycophantic slime-balls A happy little school—for sick scandal Some want attention—ugly flashers Others hurt inside—wanna get even Some bored-of playing with themselves Others never grow-up—eternal freaks Some are retired assholes—varicose-veined Others are Joe Six-Packs—wanting a thrill Some are malcontents—working for TPTB Professional Trolls—hired keyboard sluts Some patrol the Blogs—and Blab away Some Lurk and Smirk—closet-case types Others troll literary sites—snarky & cool Mostly gossiping in empty contest forums Some troll in Drag—calling themselves Lulu Others butch it up—Big Daddy dumb types Some are smart—some are just smart-ass Others are Pinheads—some Bearded Ladies. Some are Carnival Freaks—Penguin Boyz Others are Alligator Boyz—Scaly Trash Some are Creepazoids and Cockroaches Others are Sneaky Little Centipedes— All crawly legs and quivering Antennae Some are Rats—hiding in the Wainscoting Coming out to nibble on smegma dick-cheese Others are Zombie Boyz who love dead meat They live in the Sewers where there’s heat Some are Creatures from the Black Lagoon Lonely sad Lizards without girlfriends Others are always hiding under rocks But they all have one thing in common— They’re parasites of modern technology… It makes one wonder what in the world They did with themselves before the Net?
The Troll: Everywhere, Yet Nowhere ___________________________________________________________________
So what is The Internet Troll?
Simply defined, The Internet Troll is a two-legged (homo-sapiens) creature that finds internet forums and posts spam, porn, and/or general vitriol, mostly libelous statements that often include accusations of horrific crimes.
Note that TS does NOT include "controversial" information in this definition. Although controversial statements can be debated and even denounced, they are not necessarily libelous. In fact, controversy is the vital cornerstone of a true democracy and an important tool of the whistle blower.
Without using internet dictionaries and encyclopedias, The Snarkster will delineate among Troll types and explain the common characteristics of Internet Trolls. She will not name specific Trolls, preferring to focus on the general as opposed to the specific Troll.
TS will then compare her homespun definition with Wikipedia's.
If you, dear readers, have any anything to add to Trollology, let TS know, and she will add to this to the body of knowledge, which is, unfortunately, based on personal experience.
So if you are a Troll, you need not bother--and you know who you are, and through the miracle of technology, TS will know who you are.
For the sake of clarity, The Snarkster will refer to the Troll as "he," simply because women tend to act out in sneakier ways. However, TS does not entirely dismiss the possibility and even probability of vicious female Trolls and actually remembers one who, years ago, trolled at a major commercial writing forum.
The Snarkster offers three types of Internet Trolls:
Hit-and-run Troll. A guest or newbie member who posts spam and porn on internet forums. This type of Troll holds no personal grudge against the forum, admin, or members. He simply invades for profit; it matters not if the forum is about writing and poetry--like Poets.net--or whaling. He happily writes automatic scripts, which then crawl the web to find the holes and vulnerabilities of forum structures. This type of Troll is why forum web developers have created those annoying captchas or why some forums are "by admin approval only" or "by invitation only."
Newbie or "Noob" Troll. A regular member who, at some perceived slight or disagreement with admin or other members, morphs into a Troll and starts posting targeted vitriol (name calling and potential libel) toward specific members or admin. Occasionally, with patience and reasoning by admin and members, the Noob Troll can be nudged back to "regular member" status. In some more restrictive forums, this member never gets the chance and is often banned outright.
The Professional Troll. This Troll will often join a forum for the express purpose of inciting a cyber-riot among other members and disrupting the forum with libelous accusations that are totally unrelated to the topic of the forum. The Pro Troll's entire purpose seems to consist of joining forums that are at least tangentially related to his interests. In other words, The Pro Troll writer is not likely to join a NASCAR forum, unless he also happens to be interested in NASCAR racing. The Pro is obsessed with some aspect of the forum--perhaps a specific member or admin--although his specific disagreements are often puzzling and directed to everyone associated with the forum, even toward those who disagree with each other. No one is exempt from his spew.
What makes the Pro Troll so insidious is his apparent reasonableness at the beginning of his membership. In his opening posts, while he often publicly disagrees with the culture of the forum, he does not really raise red flags and may even skirt the attention of admin.
But his posts quickly escalate into inflammatory statements about other members that verge on libel, but not quite, more of the "Your-mother-wears-Army-boots" variety. At this point, in most forums, the Pro Troll and his IP are banned, either temporarily (with a warning) or permanently.
If he's allowed to remain, TS suspects that he's checking out the posting habits of admin to see when he/she is offline. Meanwhile, he gets into a tussle with another member, which may escalate into Trolldom, at least temporarily (this other member may simply be overreacting to the Troll and, given a chance, often reverts back to regular human being).
Then the Troll Pro pounces. Waiting until admin is offline, he bombs the forum with extremely libelous statements (poorly written and inarticulate), usually targeted toward one or two specific members. He focuses on members who are not anonymous and attaches their full names and cities to the accusations. He threatens to email their bosses "with proof." He often accuses these members of horrific crimes, such as molestation or even murder. He offers no proof, however, and when asked, simply skirts the question, just to say he "has proof." At this point, admin is likely to ban him and his IP permanently.
However, by this time, the damage has been done, and after banning the Troll, admin must delete the libelous statements, especially when the libeled members request deletion. (When this happens, the owner of the forum is legally obligated to remove the libelous statements or face possible litigation). Unfortunately, The Pro Troll has totally bombed the forum with these statements and finding and deleting them takes some time. Often, other members will help admin root them out.
But, exactly what is "libel"? See here for a broad-based definition of this often misused term.
Characteristics of the Pro Troll:
He's anonymous, but he doesn't take great care in hiding his true identity. When someone hints at or even reveals his true identity, however, he threatens to sue. Yet he loves "outting" other anonymous people (although he's mostly wrong).
He's probably an older male, possibly retired (or has been forced to resign from his job and could be working at a menial job not commensurate with his education and training). He's angry and bored and so uses the internet to vent. In the old days, he would have spent his days sitting by himself at the K-Mart lunch counter, grumbling to no one in particular. Meanwhile, the other retired guys hanging out there would have given him wide berth.
He carries grudges from slights experienced decades ago and misplaces his anger on people in a similar field but who have had nothing to do with his situation. It's quite likely he has brought on his own troubles but refuses to acknowledge his own complicity.
He often projects his own weaknesses and perversions onto others; for example, when he accuses someone of molestation, well, watch out for your children.
His vitriol posts are often inarticulate, ignoring the basic rules of grammar and spelling, yet his more "reasonable" posts are more carefully crafted. In all his posts, he swears a lot. His favorite: leveling the "f" bomb all over (Yawn...).
He's an angry, yet pitiful, person who has no friends and is alienated from much of his family. If he has a wife or significant other, she may have been (or still is) a victim of his anger. It's more likely that he's divorced and lives alone.
He's a serial Troll; once he has been banned from one forum, he simply goes to the next and starts the cycle all over.
Irony: he may be a fairly stable member of one forum because it offers him a place to go where he won't feel so lonely. Still, even there, he could go Pro Troll at any moment.
Except for the perennial smirk and sneer on his face, he probably looks very ordinary--not at all like the photo above ;=).
An Internet troll, or simply troll in Internet slang, is someone who posts controversial and irrelevant or off-topic messages in an online community, such as an online discussion forum or chat room, with the intention of provoking other users into an emotional response or to generally disrupt normal on-topic discussion.
The Snarkster has one question: Why bother creating and maintaining a forum if introducing controversy is considered "trolling"?
The Wikipedia article continues,
Application of the term troll is highly subjective. Some readers may characterize a post as trolling, while others may regard the same post as a legitimate contribution to the discussion, even if controversial. The term is often used to discredit an opposing position, or its proponent, by argument fallacy ad hominem.
Often, calling someone a troll makes assumptions about a writer's motives. Regardless of the circumstances, controversial posts may attract a particularly strong response from those unfamiliar with the robust dialogue found in some online, rather than physical, communities. Experienced participants in online forums know that the most effective way to discourage a troll is usually to ignore him or her, because responding tends to encourage trolls to continue disruptive posts — hence the often-seen warning: "Please do not feed the trolls."
Frequently, someone who has been labelled a troll by a group may seek to redeem their reputation by discrediting their opponents, for example by claiming that other members of the group are closed-minded, conspirators, or trolls themselves.
The Snarkster's definition is probably a bit more focused toward the outrageous than Wikipedia's, which suggests a more broad definition for a plethora of "unpleasant" online behaviors.
It seems that every forum offers its unique culture and tolerance levels; at Poets.net, we value freedom of expression and controversial viewpoints. Still, the type of Internet Troll as defined by TS does not invite intellectual discussion but simply disrupts and libels (for no good reason) and so must be banned.
The Professional Troll is more interested in ruining a person's reputation than in engaging in lively online discussions.
By the way, for all Pro Trolls, here's a place for you:
...If you're here with fresh hate in your heart because you just got banned and want to lash out at the assholes who exploded the ban bomb on you or if you're just sick of the ludicrous drama surrounding most online forums and want a place to crash where no one gives a fuck what you do, go register (it's free!) to join the largest assemblage of trolls, flamers, asshats and douche bags on the planet.
To a very specific Pro Troll:
Man, if you can't find a home at They Banned Me, then you are truly hopeless, fuckwad (one of their favorite words--you'll love their level of articulation).
“The dinginess, the crudity of the average sector of womanhood…past sallow-faced girls in preposterous hats, flat- chested women struggling with paper bundles.” —Edith Wharton, The House of Mirth
I knew it was me—I was “Lily Bart.”
I knew it from the minute I opened your Novel.
I might as well have been cloned by the first page.
I’ve had my beads read—but then never by an Expert.
A professional Snarkenfreude Sister like you, my dear.
“largely unanticipated delight in the suffering of another which is cognized as trivial and/or appropriate.” —Theodor Adorno
Snarkenfreude was definitely your style…
Just like the Urban Dictionary defines it: “Derived from snark (a word that comes from the combination of snide and remark) and schadenfreude. Snarkenfreude means not only do you enjoy someone else's suffering or mishaps but you quip—usually within the sufferer's earshot—snide comments at their expense.
"But Mr. Vice-President," asked the reporter, unable to dampen his snarkenfreude, "doesn't a pace maker require the presence of an actual heart?"
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=snarkenfreude How snarkaliciously you caught my attention in Grand Central Station—with that poor snide snarkling Selden the Snarkdook. Talk about a snarkabratory Snarkdook creep—slithering thru the Novel so full of sanctimonious unrequited love until the very End when it’s much too late.
Not as bad as Madame Peniston though—the ultimate snarklepuss Douchebag in the whole cast of characters in The House of Mirth. Talk about snarkity Snarkhole—she be one haughty Witch. She reminded me of several Broomstick Snarkbags I’ve known in the Past.
We all have our own personal Madame Peniston’s to deal with—mine was Miss Smirk in the First Grade. She knew I was gay the minute she met me—and it was all downhill after that. Funny how some people know who you are and what your are better than you do. Especially when you’re young and gay—but don’t know it yet.
Miss Smirk let me know every day I was gay—it was just awful. It was like being Dorothy shivering every day in that cold depressing tawdry dingy classroom with my Ruby Slippers—held captive by evil snarky Margaret Hamilton the Wicked Witch of the West. And I do mean wicked…
How wicked? I’d come home crying tears—having wet my pants I was so scared. Each day was a snarky Nightmare—who needed to go see Dracula and Frankenstein movies? Fuck, I was living them everyday.
“Oh it’s sibling rivalry,” the nutty fruitcake Doctor said—“he’ll get over it.” But I didn’t—I got a peptic ulcer from all the Snarkery—I almost bled to death one night. I ended up in a hospital—dropping out of school and never going back. I hated the snarky evil Witch—just as much as she hated young Fags. It was my first experience with such Evil Snarkopathological Snarkanism—and it wasn’t my last.
So, dearest Edith, that’s why your Novel is so simpatico with me—I identify with Lily Bart. I have my whole life—I just didn’t know it. Lily’s snarky Journey thru House of Mirth—how should I say it?
It gave the dreary limbo and dinginess of my Lily Bart boyhood some meaning now after all these years. And as I thumb thru the chapters—each character it seems as if I’ve met at one time or another.
“Many things in the world have not been named; and many things, even if they have been named, have never been described.” —Susan Sontag, “Notes On "Camp"
The Age of Snarkery?
If Edith Wharton or Henry James were alive today—but then of course they aren’t.
But if their Snark sensibility were alive today—what kind of Novel would they write for this latest most decadent Gilded Age we’re living in?
Decadence is nothing new—Houses of Mirth rise and fall.
Ages of Innocence are nothing new—they come and go.
The Age of Snarkery—can the Novel form still do it?
The Blogosphere—the Snarkosphere.
So much has changed since James and Wharton.
And yet does their Snarkette sensibility still survive?
Is there still time for Snarkfest festivities and gaiety?
Or are we all Snarkbait—hors-d’oeuvres for the Snarkpit?
To snark a sensibility in words, especially one that is alive and powerful—one must be transgressive and fragmentary.
This form of snarkalicious notes, rather than an essay (with its claim to a linear, consecutive argument), seems more appropriate for discussing Snarkery and Literary Criticism.
It's embarrassing to be solemn and treatise-like about Snarkery.
One runs the risk of opening oneself up to being “snark bait,” i.e., being vulnerable to Snarkette criticism.
And there’s nothing worse than that…
The Snarkosphere will undoubtedly move beyond Snarkology 101—into more rarified literary realms like Snark Lit Crit and Stark Poetics.
Snarkblogs and Snarkpit Film Crit also show promise of great Snarkfest possibilities.
But what about now—this delicate time of snarkenfreude?
Snarkery is a sensibility—unmistakably postmodern, a variant of Camp but much more cynical.
Snarkery is one of the hardest things to talk about; but there are special reasons why Snarkery, in particular, has never been discussed much until lately.
Snarkery is like Gossip—it’s a natural mode of dishing people, usually behind their back.
Indeed the essence of Snarkery is its love of Gossip: Dirt, Dishing, Reading Beads, Innuendo, Trashing, etc. make up a spectrum sensibility within The Snarkosphere.
The Snarkosphere broke into American print during the Gilded Age—with such snarky exposés as Upton Sinclair’s Jungle and Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth.
Snarking Chicago cattle-yards is one thing—but surely to snark a decadent Gilded Age in all its exquisite Innocence, surely, that’s a completely different proposition?
Edith Wharton doesn’t seem to write and publish for self-edification—or to show off her modernist sensibility.
Wharton seems strongly drawn to Snarkery, and yet almost as strongly offended by it at the same time.
That’s why Snarkery is difficult to talk about.
For no one who wholeheartedly shares in a given sensibility can analyze it.
They can only, whatever their intention, snark it indirectly.
Novels are ways of snarking things—just like people do.
Each generation is Gilded—each generation lives in a Gilded Age.
But some Ages are more Snarky than others and that Age is now.
But then every Age is now, hmmm?
Each age is an Emperor in New Clothes—but don’t tell.
Don’t ask and don’t tell—whatever you do.
A snarky Ministry of Fear—silences of all.
Except for a few snarky Novelists like Wharton and James.
What would these two snide snarky snarklepuss snarklett snarkling snarkmooglie snarkolepsy authors say today?
“Don’t ask don’t tell?”
Of course, everyone knows this is impossible.
To discuss Snarkery—is to not discuss it.
Not directly anyway—but rather thru Fiction.
Snarkmeister writers like Wharton and James sketch the snarky contours of a decadent age and recount the snarky history of its rise and fall—indirectly thru tableaux vivant.
Tableaux vivant is a story within a story.
Like Gide’s The Counterfeiters—a snarky Journal embedded in a snarky Novel.
Such snarky mise-en-abyme slight-of-hands distance one story from the other—it saves time, money, energy and avoids the usual revulsion associated with “pressing the flesh” of those we despise, especially ourselves.
Snarkmeister authors like Wharton (House of Mirth), Shakespeare (Hamlet), West (The Day of the Locusts), Genet (Thief’s Journal), Gide (The Counterfeiters), Greene (The Ministry of Fear)—they all have used this snarky technique quite successfully down thru time.
Then, of course, there’s snarky killjoy Brecht who uses the technique to constantly and rudely jar the Audience with mise-en-abyme as a rude “distancing-effect”—such a tacky thing to do.
But then isn’t that what all Snarkette authoresses do?
They insert the dystopian dagger—twist it with a smile?
They lull the readers/audience into a lullaby swoon that merges two storylines seamlessly?
The two storylines being—you and me?
Snarkery is tableaux vivant—a story within a story.
It’s a mode of aestheticism—one way of seeing the world as an aesthetic phenomenon. (Yawn…)
Snark isn’t a spectrum—it’s more like a smorgasbord.
Hors-d’oeuvres may start with snark light (tackiness) and then progress thru a vast menu of gourmet delights: smarminess, ugliness, vulgarity, greed, shamelessness, coquettery, blackmail, dishing, bead-reading, etc..
Is there a Snark vision? A school or canon or genre or systemization for Snarkery?
Hardly, my dears. We’re flying by the seat of our pants.
We snark for ourselves—and strangers. (a la Stein)
The Troll (see right side panel) takes on a minor role, albeit an important one, in this gripping saga of gratuitous violence as the dynamic Republican duo makes our country safe for Democracy.
Viewer discretion advised. May challenge one's deeply held Republican tenets. *
“CONSPICUOUS!!!!” gasped Mr. Peniston. —Edith Wharton, The House of Mirth
“Snarkery”—what is it?
According to Edith Wharton, it’s scandal.
The Gilded Age dreaded scandal worse than disease.
Nothing could be worse—than gossip and idle talk about TPTB who dreaded the possibility that tacky snarkery was getting to close to the truth.
Snarkery is discussing the Forbidden Fruit and who’s nibbling it lately.
Snarkery is what the inherited mercantile fortunes are doing with their real estate, their millions and their fading Gilded Age has-been dreams of Empire.
Snarkery is more than just gossip and rumors; it’s more than just an ornamental preoccupation about the haves by the have-nots.
Snark rules—now just like it always has.
Snarkery is the lie that tells the truth, the gossip that reveals the crudities and vulgarities of American society.
Snarkery is the empty vessel into which each generation pours new decadence.
Snarkery is the glue that holds the House of Cards together.
Snarkery is what keeps minds and mouths shut—until a boy in the crowd naively shouts out the unspeakable: “The King has no clothes!!! He’s buck-naked!!!”
Snarkery is the lack of Olympian detachment portrayed by TPTB who crush any “whistleblower” who dares deviate from the “vintage” silence.
Snarkery is the mask that each Age of Innocence wears—only to have it stripped away when the clock strikes midnight and the coach turns into a pumpkin.
Snarkery is the lack of belief in old vintage wines—too rare to be savored by the younger generation.
Snarkery studies the system—that nurtures the Fall of The Age of Innocence, swallowing up whole classes and spitting them out.
Snarkery is a snapshot—with Gerty Farish in a “horrid little place” with “no maid” and “queer” things to eat.
Snarkery is the style—that Gerty adapts with louche tableaux vivant sideshows, to survive the cut-throat realities of the gilded world, a way to milk the upper classes with titillating risqué scenes from antiquity and contemporary art like Reynold’s “Mrs. Lloyd.”
Snarkery is the motif in all of Wharton’s novels—from The House of Mirth to her final unfinished novel, The Gay Buccaneers.
Snarkery is the literary interface between Old New York v. New New York, i.e. the usual nouveau riches invaders…
Snarkery is the struggle between patriarchal control of all wealth by men v. the powerful wives who got them there.
Snarkery is the partial apprehension of American society prized by certain writers, journalists and old print media—usurped by the Blogosphere.
Snarkery is the act of being a cosmopolitan, perceptive connoisseur—and throwing pearls before swine.
Snarkery has no value in itself—and actually has a curious inertia that often is self-defeating.
Snarkery is decadent—always finding itself declining just as fast or faster than TDPTB (The Decadent People That Be).
Snarkery is a school for scandal—specializing in blackmail for aspiring malcontent writers and failed social climbers.
Snarkery is the art of The Purloined Letter—and how it is to be used, abused, lost or found.
Snarkery exists—on the social “out-skirts” of TPTB, whether rising or falling.
Snarkery gets the attention of the privileged class—since they’re the ones that have the most to lose.
Snarkery is currency—continuously fluctuating with the value of those on the way up, those at the top and those on the way down.
Snarkery is Monte Carlo—where old money and new money brush shoulders knowingly.
Snarkery is the Riviera—where American yachts once mingled and Euro-aristocrats who knew the best restaurants.
Snarking is ambivalent—confident in confidences and compromising them as soon as possible.
Snarkery is like gardening—preparing the ground, sowing the seeds and slaving away to harvest the gossip.
Snarkery is flighty—because, at heart, it despises the things it knows.
Snarkery is a bridge game in Sunset Boulevard (1950).
Snarkery is Norma Desmond—descending the staircase after shooting William Holden, her snarky scriptwriter.
Snarkery is—Waldo Lydecker in the bathtub snarking away.
Snarkery is—Margo Channing tightening up her seatbelt.
Snarkery is—Hope Emerson sizing up the “new fish.”
Snarkery is the dialog—in Edith Wharton’s short story ”After Holbein” about Anson Warley “a relic from the old regime” and Evelina Jasper, an aging and senile “hostess,” during a last banquet conversation between the two old mummies.
Snarkery loves—to reveal ambitious soul-climbing hack and stupid conniving conspirators.
Snarkery loves—to spice up dull and plain marriages.
Snarkery loves it—when a man sends his son to woo his old mistress—getting some snarky vicarious satisfaction.
Snarkery loves—the gaieties and vanities of Newport, Manhattan, LA, SF and the Beltway if only to snark it.
Snarkery loves—to juxtapose grandeur, idleness and frivolity because the idle-rich are more pictorial and interesting than a society “hard at work.”
Snarkery loves—large summer homes, oil wells, private jets, offshore banking, flower-bordered terraces, tennis courts, casinos, Las Vegas. Also back alleys, gutters and sewers.
Snarkery—despises millionaires and billionaires but like anybody it can be bribed.
Snarkery—after it’s all said and done: have a nice day.
Snarkery—reports on war, greed, ignorance, stupidity and vulgarity: what else is new?
Snarkery—prefers individual choice and growth: what’s that?
Snarkery—gets nostalgic for long drives at night on the autobahn in a big black Mercedes.
Snarkery—gets nostalgic for the Beltway: the Island of the Lotus Eaters.
Snarkery—is being afraid of the perils of prolixity.
Snarkery—is wearying the intelligentsia already bored to death.
Snarkery—knows that snarkery is only transitory.
Snarkery—is tacky memoir itself lying thru its teeth.
Snarkery—is Henry James at The Mont trying to forget what happened at the Jolly Corner.
Snarkery—is forgetting slowly all the elaborated literary divagations and disquisitions on the art of fiction by all the previous Snarkette queens.
Snarkery—is Wharton visiting Stein in Paris.
Snarkery—is being able to translate The Golden Bowl into The Porcelain Pissoir.
Snarkery—is evoking the Faubourg Sant-Germain without Proust’s queenly flaming faggot foppery.
Snarkery—is resisting correct seating order knowing it’s important but failing to comprehend how critical an issue it could be.
Snarkery—is being flummoxed by the facts for a little bit.
Snarkery—is having an alternate to Plant 9 From Outer Space.
Snarkery—is using a ghost story to tell a living story.
Snarkery—is authorship: something between the black arts and interviewing Elvis Presley at the local 7-Eleven.
Snarkery—is writing: for the snark of it.
Snarkery remains—as long as people are snarky.
Snarkery is baroque—richly ornamental and extravagant.
Snarkery is twisty—like Bernini’s columns.
Snarkery loves—the “Grotesque Renaissance.”
Snarkery—is a sign of deplorable political and moral decline.
Snarkery—is style de parade: dishing studied decorum and manners in favor of personal Snarkology.
Snarkery—is a snarky breeze sweeping thru the window from the local sewage disposal plant.
Snarkery—is usually about personal insults and demeaning derogatory dishes, although tack lofty dystopian pronunciamentos worm their way into the Snarkosphere occasionally.
Snarkery—is sympathetic to those who hate architectural exuberance; so much for Barberini Palace, Fountains of Triton, Trevi Fountain and the Bridge of Sant Angelo.
Snarkery is—teatro d’acqua or water theater; words spurt and flow like spouting Atlas fountains, down thru sculptured balustrades, grottos with Boss Cupids, maybe a snarky boy doing a snarky baroque novel.
Snarkery is bravura—usually just the opposite tho.
Snarkery is baroque travel writing—discursive, irregular, irrational; also spontaneous, improvisational, cynical.
Snark is a site dedicated to humor and otherwise snarky content. This site is not affiliated with any of the other major humor sites on the internet but is simply a renegade with its own issues. * The purpose of this website...well, there is no real purpose other than for the webmaster to snark and rant about the state of the world, which, frankly, doesn't (at the moment) look too promising--might as well get some digs in before we all blow ourselves up and away. * While Snark tolerates comments (which are subject to prior approval), The Snarkster reserves the right to reject spam, unwanted advertising, copyright-infringing comments, hate speech, ethnic/racial intimidation, harassing/stalking posts, and libelous content. * This site is copyright 2008, by, well, The Snarkster who is a real Joker. Other works posted and embedded here are copyright by their respective authors or are in the public domain. *
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