CW FISHER
Blogstalking is a relatively new phenomenon characterized by the appearance of an unrelenting series of unwanted comments at the end of an article, remarks that are typically insulting and confrontational. A good blogstalker can have six arguments cooking at the same time, but an excellent blogstalker can virtually shut down a site by simply goading everybody into a fight fight fight fight.
Blogstalking should not be confused with its older cousin "cyberstalking," which grew out of chat rooms and soon became a favorite tool of the FBI, whose productivity took a nosedive the moment they discovered their laptops and couldn't stop playing with them. FBI agents, who tend to be men and women of action, became 13 year old girls and boys on the internet, liked it, stuck around.
"Blogging," which was changed from "web logging" when somebody realized: no trees, is the act of publishing one's thoughts for the purpose of confirming one's existence while hiding one's true identity. The "blogosphere" is by nature a clean, well-lighted place where bloggers, who are writers, read each other and comment. The best place on earth for activity such as this, as far as I know, is Blogcritics.org, where even the stalkers are good writers.
Most blogstalkers are disgruntled bloggers lugging an old grudge, fighting their inner demons on a world stage the size of the monitor, and some might even be drinking a smidge and get smudgy.
Until now, there was no known way to deal with a blogstalker. Negotiation fails. Engagement of any sort is risky. Flesh rips easy in the sphere and revenge is quick as our wits which are quicker than most we might add--en garde!
A war of words, clash of syllables, xylophonic weapons drawn, engagement thence decided, arrows slung, striped with "shan't" and "whilst." How nice if these exchanges were only the soporific musings of a few self-involved, self-publishing, self-imolating blogstalkers--but these aren't the blogstalkers — these are the blogstalker's unwitting shills, the bloggers who react and write back indignant and reasoned replies that take them the better part of the afternoon to revise and rewrite, only to have the blogstalker right there when they post with a hook to the nose in language so insulting that if something regrettable isn't said it'll never be said at all.
Article comments
1 - Eric Olsen
Excellent post, classic line: "publishing one's thoughts for the purpose of confirming one's existence while hiding one's true identity."
2 - Eric Olsen
So anyway, Mr. Allegory, sometimes the sound of one gland flapping is the sweetest of all.
The greatest and worst thing about the Internet is that you can't hit anyone.
Instigation is certainly an art. I find I am often stuck in the reasoned response role because form time to time I do want to be taken seriously and that is best assured by hewing to the high road, but I also rather enjoy flipping roles and stabbing deeply with intent to eviscerate, but I usually feel bad about it later.
3 - CW Fisher
I know, man, I know. I feel your pain, no need to explain. It's hard to walk away until you realize, oh, you mean actually walk away? Like, have a cup of coffee and come back? Yeah... that's what it takes sometimes. That any blogging. Nothing gets me out of the comment section faster.
4 - Dirtgrain
What about blog groupies? My friend told me to start a blog because the chicks would flock to me. I'm still waiting. Does anybody out there actually have a blog groupie? If so, what was the magic ingredient in the blog?
One man's blog stalker is another man's freedom fighter. A tricky thing about sites like Blogcritics is that bloggers often start something and then disappear without finishing it. They leave everyone discombobulated and up in arms as the author vanishes and starts a new, unrelated thread. Some don't let them get away with it. Many times I have seen one thread jump the tracks and grind into another thread, merging, crashing or doing something in between. The blogger can't escape the judgement of the bloodthirsty critic. Sometimes it is a stalker farting on the Blogcritics community--other times it is a freedom fighter striving to set us free.
Telling the difference between the two is not so easy. The annoying persistence of a stalker is the same annoying persistence of an Aung San Suu Kyi or a Martin Luther King, Jr. or a Dr. Jack Kevorkian. Let your nose and instincts be the guide. If you smell Limburger fog, then it's a stalker--blood, sweat and tears, then it's a freedom fighter--mothballs, then it's Jack, and you better hope you paid your dues. Alias or not, your words can't hide or get away on Blogcritics.org.
I can relate to the frustration, Fisher King. Too many times already, I have labored to write detailed responses to simple challenges. Disappointment has often followed in several ways: either I remember that I had more important things to do (go to the bathroom, grade papers, feed the dog, etc.), I realize that I spent three hours writing one paragraph (all the while thinking, "Hot diggity dog this is going to be a sweet one"), or I post the comment only to get the equivalent of "I know you are but what am I" as a reply.
So far the good times outweigh the bad ("Will we get to see tomorrow?/Tomorrow is our today/It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday"--man that song gets stuck in the head). My brain gets a good workout in the course of even the most futile arguments--I could have been watching reruns of Friends, after all. As my braincells deteriorate into old age, I vow to make the most of every single one of them. "My mind is going. I can feel it." To hell with Friends. Bring on the stalkers.
5 - CW Fisher
Good one. You just keep talking, dirtgrain. I'm going to bed. Oh, and would you hit that light before you nod off? Thanks. Oh, and, sorry. No smoking, 'kay. All right. you got everything you need then? Toothbrush? No? Oh, that's too bad. No, you can't use mine. Because. Do it the cowboy way. Everybody knows the cowboy way. Take your t-shirt, bunge it up, put it on your teeth, press real hard, rubba-rubba. Works better than toothpaste when you got no toothpaste or water. By the way, you're ever stranded and all you have to eat is toothpaste, don't eat it, because you're going to regret it later, man.
6 - CW Fisher
Oh, and as far as blog groupies go, I haven't found them yet. A woman named Debbie spoke to me once but that doesn't mean anything. Debbies are usually young and perky, but surely Debbies get old too. I know Shirlies do. Anyway what's wrong with old women? Nothing. I know a lot of younger men like them. I myself have no use for them not they for me. I'm hoping to run into a young woman who can love me for what I am: a complete phony.
7 - Shark
re: blogging, flogging, stalking, balking, walking, etc.
I have one reason I do what I do:
I see dead people.
8 - Shark
FisherKing,
I see a blog as basically a dark, almost empy back alley in the global village. Some who stand on this idle street corner are poets; they come to howl at stars, regardless of who is listening. They do it because they have to, because it tilts the universe every so slightly from the ape toward the angel.
Others arrive with digital spray paint; they slash graffiti on the walls, sometimes with brevity and wit, sometimes with obsenities and threats. Most of the time, they're just advertising their land holdings for some ethereal gang that only exists in their heads -- or drawing an imaginary boundary on their territory like a hyena pissing on a corpse.
Every global village needs a global idiot, who walks a thin line between clown and shaman -- between the town crier and the slobbering moron; the clown allows us to laugh and feel superior; the shaman is a bridge between unseen worlds. The town crier spreads news far and wide, wakes us up when something's wrong, assuages us when something's right. The slobbering moron, on the other hand, has nothing to say: he breaks windows, scares the children, is a pyromaniac, and is there to be stoned by the general public.
Sometimes it's hard to tell them apart, and paradoxically -- most of the time, there is no difference. We each contain all.
But no matter which role one plays or perceives, the one who laughs, who makes jokes, who uses humor: they are -- at the heart of it all -- the most serious.
Beware of those with a sense of humor.
9 - Eric Olsen
Beware of the one who humors users.
10 - CW Fisher
Put that on your book flap, Sharkie. Nice writin! Cut and paste it into a post. That is some serious good writin. "Every global village needs a global idiot..." Doo! You pop!
11 - lisa
CW you sound like a complete funny phony and I do love you, just keep me laughing.
12 - Dirtgrain
Wowee, wow, wow, wow! It works.
13 - Paul James
C.W. you are a whiny little bitch! If you can't stand the heat, stay off the computer. You are so far off base with this load of crap that I'm calling you out for running outside the base line.
Oh, what's the matter you big baby? Can't take it? What are you hitting yourself for? Do you think that just because your carefully crafted homespun yawners are always dead wrong that it is someone else's fault? And I haven't been dringkin at all. Welll I mite hane been drining a littl, but....oh OK, I see your point. Trapped. I was framed I tell ya...
Smug little blogging bastards....Fisher King...who does he think he is, Robin Williams....coming dear...