My Two Cents On the Value of A Troll

When I started blogging almost three years ago, I had no idea what an Internet troll was. I remember the first time I stumbled on the magical existence of said creature and looked on with a bit of shock and awe. 

I was very young (in spirit if not in body) and naive back in the day. I also believed unicorns and fairy dust could be found on the net if you knew where to look.

Three years later, I'm slightly older but infinitely wiser. I know that trolls exist everywhere and the only place unicorns and fairy dust exist on the net is over on Danny's site. (But that's because he regularly shoots rainbows out his arse. He's special like that.)

The truth is we are all cavorting in a big cyber playground and eventually; someone is going to throw some sand. It's inevitable. Trolls aren't mystical, magical creatures; they're just snotty-nosed over grown children who haven't been taught how to play nice with others.

I've always let trollish comments stand on my site. To be honest, most of the time they amuse me. Better yet, I like to sit back and let my readers feed on them. It's like tossing chum into shark infested waters. 

As I often tell my kids, if you mess with the bull, you're gonna get the horn.

Besides, I have always felt that part of the charm of blogging is the interaction and feeling of community which commenting fosters. Even if the comments are slightly ignorant. 

But after yesterday, I've reevaluated my policy on Internet trolls. Call me crazy, but if you accuse me of something which is completely false and then stick around to poke at the beehive with a big stick, I'm not thinking you want to be part of the loving redneck community I have busted my arse building over the last three years.

I've decided I will now delete as the mood strikes. 

Don't be angry dear troll. I promise I will save your comment, paste it lovingly into a scrapbook and then read it and re-read it until the words are faded and the paper well worn. Because your words really mean that much to me.

Our love will just remain hidden from the prying eyes of the internet.

But it is just not cool to take a swing at me on a post about my dead kid. I mean, I'm a REDNECK and I have better manners than that. Ironically, over at Cynical Dad's place, he's freaking ROASTING me. Hop on over there and let 'er rip. That's what a roast is for. Not to mention, the talented writers he's got lined up will show your trollish self how to tear me a new arsehole with style.

Sheesh. Do I have to tell you everything? 

Disagree with me all you want, dear Internets. I embrace a challenge and dissenting opinions. (Ask my husband, he'll tell ya. Snicker.) Not to mention, my readers enjoy the chum-my nature of a good disagreement. As long as you are respectful, I have no issue with your opinion, no matter how wrong you are, and I'll likely leave the comment up for everyone's amusement.

But if you mess with me the day after my dead kid's birthday, or on a post about my beloved boy, I may have to stick my horn up your trollish butt.

After which, I'll be pasting your comment into my book of love to forever fondle. 

Just so you know.

***Also, I'm getting my butt wiped over at the Weblog Awards and my ego is taking a pounding. It's tough being the only non-partisan blog in the entire category up against all those political blowhards. That ought to make some trolls happy. You know you can vote everyday until the 12th, right? And when I lose with style I promise I'll throw a big pity party on my blog for everyone who wasn't nominated or lost and we'll take comfort in our collective misery. 

That said, if I win, I'm totally streaking the streets of the Internet buck naked while shouting, "In yer face all you Canadian political bloggers. A mommy blogger beat ya. Boo-ya!" 

Cuz I'm classy like that.***