Rachael Eyre's Blog - Posts Tagged "trolls"
Anti Social Media
I can vividly recall the first time I used the Internet. I was fifteen, a stranger to any form of tech and finishing my Computer Studies class. (Yes, that's what they used to call it. How retro!)
We take it for granted now, but for a novice it was an almost occult undertaking. The whooshy swooshy sound of dial up, as though you were communicating with aliens, then what seemed a smorgasbord of sites popping up. It was like witchcraft.
Me and my friend Debbie decided to go into a chat room with fake names. I forget her alias but mine was Tasmin. After a chorus of "Hi"s from my new virtual friends, this guy butted into the conversation.
"Age?"
I was young, with no sense of self preservation, and my Stranger Danger sirens were going off. It struck me that asking a girl three seconds into meeting her how old she was was an extremely skeezy thing to do. "Mind your own business," I typed.
God, how his messages deteriorated! After concluding I "must be a nut" (for spurning his advances?), he went on to say "Tasmin stinks of shit" and other things too obscene to repeat here. I've never been in a chat room since.
Despite that inauspicious beginning, I soon fell in love with the Net. It was the perfect climate for a socially awkward teen, allowing me to meet likeminded people and start groups celebrating my interests. Chat Room Guy must've been a one off. Everybody I'd met since was lovely.
Unfortunately numerous altercations have proved that no, my secret detractor is not alone. I've been stalked off one fan group, verbally attacked on my old blog (the blogosphere is like strolling into a lion's den drizzled in barbecue sauce) and been set on by trolls of various stripes. I've been called an "insufferable rug muncher", told to give up on the day job/sex change and advised to kill myself as no one would miss me, being a "dog ugly dyke with no friends." Or delightful chaps saying that all lesbians needed was a good shag, and they were just the men for the job.
Why do people do this? Who knows? Perhaps they believe the anonymity of the Net makes them untouchable. Perhaps their lives really are so sad and empty they draw up hit lists. As supervillains don wacky costumes and commit crimes, trolls take to social media and create their own brand of havoc.
The most frustrating thing is you're supposed to be the bigger person and ignore their behaviour. Should you make the beginner's mistake of answering back, it's like you turned a hose pipe on a mogwai. More will seethe up out of whatever swamp they come from, bringing their bad karma and worse attitude.
The final straw was last week on Twitter. I'd enjoyed a tempestuous relationship with the site - a heady courtship followed by despondency and boredom. It was becoming a chore. Then - fatal move - I commented on the Everyday Sexism hashtag.
The topic was street harassment. I shared that once I'd been groped while a cop stood by and did nothing. Although disgusted by my attacker, I was even more shocked by the officer's complete indifference. Who ignores a crime taking place right under their nose?
This opened the floodgates for vile, chauvinistic remarks. "You'd lose an arm if you groped your arse, Rachael, so hush your gums and quit lying, luv,"
"Stop barging into people with your tank arse" - mindless abuse from total strangers. What had I done to deserve such hate?
I reported the tweets but doubt any action will be taken. Twitter is a business; rather than risk losing the twenty something Neanderthals who liked or shared those tweets, they'd rather the one unhappy camper was so intimidated they went elsewhere - which I have done.
I love the Internet. I go online to kill time, make friends and market my books. But until there are dramatic changes in the way social media is governed, I'm keeping my distance.
We take it for granted now, but for a novice it was an almost occult undertaking. The whooshy swooshy sound of dial up, as though you were communicating with aliens, then what seemed a smorgasbord of sites popping up. It was like witchcraft.
Me and my friend Debbie decided to go into a chat room with fake names. I forget her alias but mine was Tasmin. After a chorus of "Hi"s from my new virtual friends, this guy butted into the conversation.
"Age?"
I was young, with no sense of self preservation, and my Stranger Danger sirens were going off. It struck me that asking a girl three seconds into meeting her how old she was was an extremely skeezy thing to do. "Mind your own business," I typed.
God, how his messages deteriorated! After concluding I "must be a nut" (for spurning his advances?), he went on to say "Tasmin stinks of shit" and other things too obscene to repeat here. I've never been in a chat room since.
Despite that inauspicious beginning, I soon fell in love with the Net. It was the perfect climate for a socially awkward teen, allowing me to meet likeminded people and start groups celebrating my interests. Chat Room Guy must've been a one off. Everybody I'd met since was lovely.
Unfortunately numerous altercations have proved that no, my secret detractor is not alone. I've been stalked off one fan group, verbally attacked on my old blog (the blogosphere is like strolling into a lion's den drizzled in barbecue sauce) and been set on by trolls of various stripes. I've been called an "insufferable rug muncher", told to give up on the day job/sex change and advised to kill myself as no one would miss me, being a "dog ugly dyke with no friends." Or delightful chaps saying that all lesbians needed was a good shag, and they were just the men for the job.
Why do people do this? Who knows? Perhaps they believe the anonymity of the Net makes them untouchable. Perhaps their lives really are so sad and empty they draw up hit lists. As supervillains don wacky costumes and commit crimes, trolls take to social media and create their own brand of havoc.
The most frustrating thing is you're supposed to be the bigger person and ignore their behaviour. Should you make the beginner's mistake of answering back, it's like you turned a hose pipe on a mogwai. More will seethe up out of whatever swamp they come from, bringing their bad karma and worse attitude.
The final straw was last week on Twitter. I'd enjoyed a tempestuous relationship with the site - a heady courtship followed by despondency and boredom. It was becoming a chore. Then - fatal move - I commented on the Everyday Sexism hashtag.
The topic was street harassment. I shared that once I'd been groped while a cop stood by and did nothing. Although disgusted by my attacker, I was even more shocked by the officer's complete indifference. Who ignores a crime taking place right under their nose?
This opened the floodgates for vile, chauvinistic remarks. "You'd lose an arm if you groped your arse, Rachael, so hush your gums and quit lying, luv,"
"Stop barging into people with your tank arse" - mindless abuse from total strangers. What had I done to deserve such hate?
I reported the tweets but doubt any action will be taken. Twitter is a business; rather than risk losing the twenty something Neanderthals who liked or shared those tweets, they'd rather the one unhappy camper was so intimidated they went elsewhere - which I have done.
I love the Internet. I go online to kill time, make friends and market my books. But until there are dramatic changes in the way social media is governed, I'm keeping my distance.
