How To Slay a Troll

How to Slay a Troll

1. Race is the Matter - Suffice to say: The far-right has ursurped the word "racist" and neutralized it by turning it back on the accuser. Classic "blame the victim" strategy. So, split hairs. Readily admit to being a "human racist," label them "white racist," and use the label even if the subject changes. Black and white are not bad words. Use them. A black racist is an oxymoron in the minds of most people. Even those who say it, are hard-pressed to believe it. A white racist, however, is historically and universally recognized.

2. "Place" Them - They are all "arm-chair quarterbacks." People in political office don't go on these sites. Their staffers may, but most trolls are underpaid, overworked, disgruntled "Joe Blowhards." Demand their credentials and question those credentials. Their egotism is outsized. Most often, they will divulge some credential or another. No matter what they are, they cannot claim "I ran for and was elected president" or "I am Ben Benanke." Attack. As a side note, you need not offer nor proffer yours. They have to rate with the "big boys," not you. Your credentials are: "A troll's worst nightmare."

3. "Freud" Them - Put them on the metaphorical couch. Question men's childhood and their relationship with their "mama." Question men's choice of career (not president) and/or their masculinity (trolling is a form of exerting power). Question women's humanity and intuition (or lack thereof). Make fanciful suppositions. Be  kindly patronizing to women and condescendingly derissive of men. After the first flat-out lie, sharply question the credibility of either sex.

4. Aim, Lock, Fire - Diversion, deflection and false-equivalency are trolls' favorite tactics. Note their inconsistency in logic, but do not visit the topic other than to question their raising of the topic. Do not waste time opening or reading their attachments. Note the difference between propaganda, fact and opinion. Then put them back on the couch, perhaps even musing about their motivation for trying to bring up the topic. If they change the subject, change it back. Again and again as needed. A note about false-equivalency: It, too, is a diversion. Call them out, but do not spend much time on it.


6. Question the Question - Do not answer their questions directly. At most, answer the question behind the question and, then, in a question, ie "Why are you so interested in ..." Cherry-pick their words and put your own spin on the word you choose. Then, question the psychology of their use of the word. 

6. Call Names - They do, you do. Period. Do it a lot. Talk trash with derissive humor and with authority. Nickname them and refer to them by that name forthwith. Be creative and have fun with it. Coin some phrases about their ineptitude. Laugh at them. A lot. But, do not resort to profanity or bathroom humor. In the court of public opinion, smart beats dirty every time. Also, it is not necessary to get the last word; just the best shot.

7. Use Your Words - The average American has a 6th-grade reading level. Many college graduates can not put a sentence together correctly. Neither can the average troll. Throwing "big" words at them is, in part, to remind them of this fact, and part diversionary. Some might actually go look it up. Trolls use memes because they, generally, are neither creative nor leaders. They are pawns; treat them as such. Note: Overlook spelling errors. Correcting errors is a distraction and smacks of elitism. Also, do not use a word you cannot define and make sure to spellcheck the words you can. No one is perfect.

8. Use Caps Liberally - YELLING at them offends their "superior" sensibilities. Moreover, it makes text stand out on the page for people who merely scan long chains of posts.

9. Know Your Audience - Remember, although verbally dueling a troll, the target audience is really the "court of public opinion." Specifically, it is the undecided voter. Do not offend them. But, from time to time, do address them directly, ie "Notice how (...) is quick to call names, yet gets offended when he is called a name?" or "See how she evaded the question?" Make your point with your audience.

10. Preach not Teach - Facts matter. Context does not. A fact is a fact. Do not waste time posting background unless it is for the benefit of your target audience. Trolls are neither interested nor swayed by facts. If trolls ask for your "proof," demand theirs. Never acquiesce.

Finally, truth is a mighty weapon. Use it liberally and, more importantly, with blunt force. Do not mince words. Call a liar a liar and an imbecile and imbecile, loudly and often. Be specific about what part of their statement is being ridiculed and be brutally, candidly honest in your assessment of both women and men. Get very personal about their minds, but ignore their bodies.

Foremost, enjoy!

The Trine

1…2…3 … … 10

I held my breath and counted again

From 10

Then

All the way back to one

And it was done

Naomi was dead

Thank God

She’d drawn her last breath

And I

Drew in a big sigh

And I

Let it go … real slow

In a gentle stream of mellow

Memories of Naomi

Naomi was the mother of an acquaintance

She had cancer and needed some assistance

Getting to and from medical appointments

With laundry and daily nourishment

I was chilling with a friend in New York

I’m retired and not looking for work

But something about Naomi’s plight

Touched my heart

And I knew it would be right

To take part

In the life and death fight

She was in

Somehow knowing

It was a battle she wouldn’t win

Somehow knowing

It was for this reason

I had gone to New York

For a season

Naomi was a big ole woman

Two or three of me

And by the time

I came to her side

She

Was already weakly

She moved slowly and leaned heavily

On me

Butt she

Stood proud with her cane

So the casual observer

Could not see her pain

Butt there was nothing casual

About the agony

That crossed her face

When it was just Naomi

And me

And

I’ll never forget her fleeting

Look of silent grieving when

The doctor said there was no need in

Scheduling another meeting

For more radiation

Since it wasn’t working

There was no justification

For me to be dragging

“Poor Naomi” out in

The bitter cold

New York snow

No more could be done

It was time to go

Home

All the way

Home

When the doctors give up

There’s nothing to do

Butt prepare for the end

And hope it comes soon

Soon, soon

Soon come, Death

Let Naomi draw her last breath!

Butt Naomi’s soon was not soon enough

She prayed and prayed to the heavens above

To relieve her of her misery

To set her free

To let her go

Home

To her Lord and Savior

Or the great unknown

In the end

In pain full-blown

She didn’t know

She was blaspheming God

Through her tears of woe

Or she didn’t care anymore

To ponder

Anymore

If there really was a realm beyond the

One

She found herself in

In pain

Pain so severe

It was hardly touched

By the straight morphine

I measured and pumped

Straight into her veins

A pain

So brutal that

Were she a beloved pet

She’d be put down

By the local vet

Butt in a twist of fate profane

It was somehow deemed inhumane

For anyone to do anything

In her life to shorten it

Despite Naomi’s hurting it

Was no help from Kevorkian

It was no more hope in sight

In fact, all she had left

As she sat day and night

At 90-degree angle right

Cause it hurt way too much to

Even lie

Down

Was a will to die

Right now!

And when I went to my bed at night

Baby monitor by my side

Naomi’s mantra was my lullaby –

“I wanna die, I wanna die

I wanna die, I wanna die!”

Butt it was on the day Naomi drew her last breath in

That I got  my own glimpse of God’s great planning:

Naomi’s daughter and I were standing

At the foot of Naomi’s bed

Just talking

Quietly about nothing

Everything had been said

When Naomi drew a great

Breath in

And held it in

Maybe six or seven

Counts

Then with a whooshing sound

She let it all out

Then …

Nothing

For about 27

Heartbeats I counted then

To my surprise I shouted

“Aw, Hell no!” and

Naomi opened her eyes and

Breathed again

Out – In – Out – In

Naomi’s daughter couldn’t bear any more

She ran up to her room and closed the door

And as Naomi continued breathing

I stopped to wonder how I was feeling

Cause I had stopped Naomi from leaving

Her misery and

Something welled up inside me

And let me know it was right

To call Naomi back into this life

Somehow my spirit recognized

In that miniscule instant in time

It was for that very reason

God had put me in the middle of Bed-Stuy

It was a “calling”

For me to be there to deny

Hell for Naomi

See:

Sister Naomi’s faith had wavered

As the ravenous stomach cancer ate her

And the constant pain maimed and raped her

Of her senses

Leaving her defenseless

And Faith-bare

Ranting at her Creator

Who was taking his sweet old time

Taking her out of this life time

Naomi’s faith “all” butt lost

She’d invited Death at any cost

But through me – God

Would not be – Robbed

Of His victory

For reasons unseen to me

In fulfillment of a plan I did not conceive

There I stood in the breach

To speak

A Word of God against

An unholy host

When that beaten-down woman of God

Needed it most

Soon come

Yes come

Soon come, Death!

Let Naomi draw her last breath

Butt Hell?

No!

No Hell for Naomi!

I don’t know what came over me

Butt I know I do believe

“All things work together for the good

Of those who love the Lord

And

Are called according to His purpose”

This is a two-part promise

I know this

And God calls on His faithful for assistance

And I am His

And we speak spiritual things into existence

We will this

In a place where the Spirit

Meets you and I

The Trine

So says the word of my tradition

And so it was with this conviction

I went to my rooms to finish my mission

I laid on my bed and closed my eyes

Baby monitor by my side

And counted Naomi’s ragged sighs

In – Out – In – Out …

For two whole hours

I lay there and counted

On the Saints of Heaven

To come marching in

In God’s time

In Good time

And as I lie there in my bed

Quietly counting in my head

Up to 10 and back again

Silently waiting for the end

I contemplated what it is

About how we live

That makes our lives worth living:

Is it to personify Christ’s giving

Of Himself and His life in sacrifice

Under God’s watchful eyes?

It is said that the servant

Who washes the feet

Or changes the diaper

And folds the sheets

Is greater in God’s eyes

Than the mightiest of kings

And as I lay counting

I realized

My being has meaning

And I’m storing

Up treasures for my self in serving

God through Naomi and my fellow man

Building a treasure more precious than

Millions stacked in bags

And I was glad that

I had chased that

New York dream that

Allowed God’s grace to be

Worked through Naomi

And me

And me?

I had the honor of pronouncing Naomi dead

And I gave the official time for the certificate

Butt between you and me

I added a minute

Just to make sure

God was finished

With Naomi and me

And to commemorate

That space

In time

When Naomi, God and I

Formed a Trine

In an agreement of Faith to conquer Hell

As it is said:

Hell itself

Can not overcome

When two or three in faith

Are joined as One

And it should be no great mystery

Even though she no longer breathes

Naomi still lives inside of me

In my memory

And way of being

My way of seeing

Life

And dealing with strife

And hardships and glory

Luxuries and worry

Loving and hating

My dealing with you and me

And my God

It’s odd

Butt as I plod through life’s many tests

I heed lessons learned in each experience

And I smile daily in remembrance

Of the power God showered

In Naomi’s hour of Death

And I know until I find my final rest

I’ll forever inhale

Naomi’s last breath