The Do-Gooder

I sometimes contribute to a message board – I’m not going to say which one as I want to remain largely anonymous on there.

Usually it is a fun experience where contributors discuss various things, debate others and most of the time engage in good-hearted banter. I am a nice guy so I try not to upset people and if I inadvertently do I always offer an olive branch to rectify the situation, which at worst is just due to a difference of opinion with no malice involved whatsoever.

Of course the odd keyboard warrior pops up now and then and insults anybody who disagrees with him and there have been times when such a persistent troll has been banned by the administrators of the board – quite rightly in my opinion. Generally most of us are civil with each other.

However, a troll turned his attention to me over something I really should avoid – politics.

I admit that I need to rein myself in sometimes and usually I manage to do so. In this case, though, I was accused of being a do-gooder. This intrigued me and I pushed back at the troll to find out more about this, in his eyes, derogatory term.

Here’s the (urban) definition of a do-gooder:

An earnest but often naïve person (typically educated and white) who wants reform through philanthropic or egalitarian means. e.g. wealth redistribution, social justice, welfare, third world immigration, adoption of "disadvantaged" children (usually non-white and from abroad), affirmative action and spending other peoples' money for good causes.

The truth is that I probably fit some parts of that description because ultimately I am a nice guy who wants to help the disadvantaged. The troll didn’t like this, stressing that if I were in any position of power then the country would fall apart and become his living hell, simply because I believe that privileged people should help those less well off.

I asked him what he considered himself to be, suggesting that perhaps if he were the antithesis of a do-gooder (which he seemed to be given that he thought my views were completely abhorrent) then that would make him a do-badder.

When I looked it up, the term do-badder does (kind of) exist being defined as:

A person who does bad things.

The troll didn’t like this and disagreed in the strongest terms. I further suggested that a do-gooder really “does good things” and therefore if you don’t like me for that reason then you must be a person who does bad things.

This lead to a a heated exchange (heated on his part) where his descriptions of me included words that I had not encountered before – like snowflake, which is:

A person who has an inflated sense of their own uniqueness and has an unwarranted sense of entitlement; or a person who is easily offended and unable to deal with opposing opinions.

I actually have quite a thick skin and can take insults but I also quite like a good debate and am not easily upset. When I pointed out that the troll was more easily offended by my views and that indeed he was more of a snowflake than I was, the insults flowed. I was called a know-it-all, arrogant, holier-than-thou and various other words that violated the cursing filter and are largely unrepeatable for a humble blog like this..

Ultimately I am a nice guy who cares for people and in a sense I guess I am a bit of a do-gooder although I am not naïve at all. The troll seemed to be the opposite.

Interestingly, when I looked up the official antonym of do-gooder, it turned out to be narcissist – not necessarily the malignant kind (which you can read about here).

And then it kind of made sense and, much to my surprise, I found myself feeling a little bit sorry for the troll – despite his views.

Needless to say, I realised that no matter how much I discussed the topic further, I would not convince him that perhaps I could be right. After all, that would be a personal attack on him and that is totally against the law in the world of narcissism.

Later, he claimed that my silence had meant that he had won the argument despite the fact that other contributors disagreed with him, causing him to turn his nastiness towards them.

Even more interestingly, he was banned shortly after that for crossing the line.

Ultimately I believe that people can have a difference of opinion and discuss things amicably without having to resort to insults. I am genuinely interested in other opinions because it gives me an insight into the bigger picture.

Also, I know that I am not always right – and sometimes spectacularly wrong. I have had my mind changed on several occasions and do not bear a grudge against people who do this.

Maybe I am a do-gooder after all and, if that’s true, I don’t actually regard that as an insult.

If anybody wants to discuss this or other topics then I am absolutely fine with that – even if you are a malignant narcissist or a pseudo-intellectual.

Bring on the trolls!

No Offense

Hot on the heels of my last post about offending people I know by mentioning their exploits or my thoughts of their exploits on this blog, I’d like to cast a slightly wider net and consider offending people I don’t actually know.

I often wonder whether there are people out there who stumble on my blog, read it and are so offended by it that they are too apoplectic to even write a comment telling me how my seemingly innocent post has offended them.

I’m not talking about your everyday troll, the warrior king of the keyboard, who thinks I am a dickhead and tells me such; I’m talking about people who are genuinely upset by the balderdash that pours forth from my keyboard.

Recently this has been another cause for concern. There are a lot of subjects I want to air my opinions about but have stepped back from the brink because those subjects are controversial and may cause distress to over-sensitive souls.

I have touched on subjects like religion but held back because I have known that some readers will genuinely dislike what I write – not that my opinions are extreme – they’re not. But I have had debates with religious people who have stormed off in disgust because I have questioned their belief system.

There is a line and I have never dared to approach it, let alone march up to it and stomp over without a care for the casualties of my words.

Once again, it’s “Nice Guy Syndrome”.

There are some subjects I am passionate about, such as music, and I will quite happily pour scorn on musical genres I hate, the general state of the music industry and the dumbing down of the masses with insipid pointless commercial crap that is making arseholes like Simon Cowell incredibly rich at the expense of a person with a great voice who will fall by the way side and never be heard of again.

I have even written about things I think are rubbish, like Shakespeare, opera and reality television. Yet these supposedly controversial posts have been relatively mild and offer a carrot to anybody who is willing to engage me in a debate about them.

The truth is I can’t imagine anybody getting upset because I have dragged the name of opera through the mud; at worst most people will laugh and consider me to be a blinkered buffoon unwilling to expand my horizons.

I don’t care. I have a thick skin and am happy for people to think that.

Yet if I were to turn to politics, say, and express my views in a similar way to some Americans do on their blogs, I fear that I might genuinely make an enemy or two out there; likewise with religion.

I have skirted around both subjects in the past but fallen way short of expressing my true feelings about the state of politics in Britain and other countries. The closest I’ve come really is a post about Margaret Thatcher, a woman who is seen as a hero by certain parts of the community but who I actually despised.

Again that post was relatively mild and my feelings were masked behind light-hearted observations and stolen jokes.

I have read posts in America where the author has written some truly horrific things about their politicians, particularly Barack Obama. One time, I was so stunned by what I read that I left an innocuous comment and ended up on the receiving end of a troll-like attack.

I am not sure whether if, say, I wrote a post praising the work of somebody such as Obama, whether my comment box would be full of comments from pissed off readers accusing me of being a communist.

It’s the threat of such comments that keeps me back from the line I have drawn.

Mrs PM has suggested that I air my views more and discuss controversial topics in order to attract attention to my blog.

I’m not sure whether that is a price I am willing to pay. I want people to read my posts and have a smile on their face at the end of it instead of a look of pure ferocity that makes them want to vent their fury in an enormous vitriolic comment.

Anger turns people into keyboard warriors and I don’t like keyboard warriors.

Hence I have backed off.

Nevertheless, I am in a dilemma because I really do want to court controversy. I want to express myself but I don’t want to offend people or turn mild mannered readers into raging trolls.

Despite all of this, part of me wants to say:

“So you’re offended, are you? So bloody what? Just because you are offended by my views doesn’t actually mean you are right and I am wrong. Just get over it!”

However, once again, “Nice guy syndrome” kicks in again and I find myself resisting the desire to push forward and challenge people about why the things I am saying are so offensive. For some people, the phrase “I’m offended” seems to put them on the moral high ground and they look down on you as if you are some sort of snivelling demon intent on upsetting everybody.

For example, if a man was outraged because I used the word “PHHARRK!” in front of him, I would laugh and say:

 “For God’s sake get a grip, man! Everybody swears! Get over it.”

He might then chastise me for using the Lord’s name in vain.

And do you see what these people are doing to me? I use the word “PHHARRK!” in my blog instead of the real word – simply because it might be offensive to somebody.

How about you dear reader? 

Do you like the thought of being controversial? 

Are you willing to court controversy and offend people, even innocently?

Do you care if you offend people?

It is yet another blogging dilemma that is haunting me.

I will stay on the safe side of the line for now and keep people happy – with the exception of Simon Cowell lovers and those who think the X Factor is the future of music of course.

Those people are fair game in my opinion.

And perhaps I might just stop saying “PHHARK!” instead of “FUCK!”

BUGGER! That’s the first time I’ve used the “PHHARK!” word in my blog.

SHIT! Now I’ve said “BUGGER!” as well.

And “SHIT!”

I’m doomed.

No offense.

Please carry on reading - and please don't become a troll.

The Keyboard Warrior (Part Two) - The Soul Of The Troll

A few years ago I wrote a post about Keyboard Warriors, also known as Trolls (you can read it here).

These are people who hide behind their keyboards in total anonymity and post vile and vindictive comments, posts etc. under an assumed name, and cause anger, pain and sometimes worse. They range from being anonymously insulting to being utterly malicious cyber bullies.

A couple of days ago I received a comment on a post I wrote three years ago about my thoughts on William Shakespeare (you can read it here). Basically I said that he was rubbish (or at least rubbish in a contemporary way), in what I thought would be an amusing little article with a witty title – and it provoked a Keyboard Warrior, albeit a relatively mild one, to respond.

My desire for the post, like just about all of the posts I write, was to provoke a little debate, with a little light-hearted humour, giving me a chance to reminisce a little about English classes as school and poke fun at a British establishment. I added a little self-deprecation, as I usually do, in order to make reading the post a fun experience.

I was – and still am – quite proud of that particular post. I received a fair few comments, some of which agreed whole-heartedly with my views, and others that disagreed with valid reasons.

It was a bit of fun and I think most people who read it enjoyed the fun too. The post was even mentioned in a Shakespeare blog (something that made me quite pleased with myself).

And then I received another comment from a Keyboard Warrior called “Edward”. Here it is:

I found this drivel by accident. I'm just amazed that there are people out there like you, very many people in fact, who wear their ignorance and foolishness so proudly. I thought I was reading the ramblings of some over-opinionated teenager until I saw what an old fart you were. 

Now I have a thick skin and my first reaction was to laugh out loud. As Edward quite rightly points out – I really am an old fart – which is why I can laugh about it and take his jibes on the chin. Had Edward actually left me a link to his blog or a profile where I could mail him, I would have done that and offered to enter a debate on the pros and cons of the Bard.

Sadly, like all Keyboard Warriors, poor Edward has chosen to hide behind, what I assume, is a pseudonym. There was no debate, no intelligent responses to my points – nothing more than, effectively:

“You are a dickhead”.

And it is this kind of blind thinking that makes a Keyboard Warrior a menace. While I am thick skinned enough to shrug off such abuse, there are a lot of people who take such insults and anonymous negativity to heart.

Trolls cannot debate; they simply have to say nasty things.

Compared to some trolls out there, Edward is an extremely mild form; he didn’t swear yet he chose to call me ignorant, foolish and over-opinionated as well as an old fart – mild by comparison to some troll output I have read.

As somebody who loves the debate, I always find that when the person I am arguing with resorts to petty insults, then I have simply won the argument because they cannot respond.

Believe me, dear reader, I have had some lively debates over the years and been on the receiving end of extremely heavy defeats.  Unlike your average troll, however, I brush myself down and admit defeat.

There is nothing wrong with admitting that you are wrong.

Most debates and discussions I have end up with both parties agreeing to disagree and metaphorically shaking hands across cyberspace as we part amicably having had a fabulous and sometimes lively discussion.

I pride myself in having the ability to be able to be open about things too. I have changed my opinions on many things because of a well-argued and logical point of view. In my experience a large percentage of people are like that.

Of course I can be stubborn – but at least I can and do admit it.

To be honest, the only times I have fallen victim to trolls is when I have commented on other peoples’ blog posts or dived into a debate on a message board. People who stumble across my blog rarely engage in troll-like comment writing.

On one particular message board, I have seen a troll actually threaten another poster with violence, from behind the cover of a pseudonym of course. Thankfully, the other members of that particular community reacted and rallied round the victim, before the board moderators banned the perpetrator.

Sadly, on other social media, trolls can run riot.

My stance is the same as it has ever been; if a troll attacks me I will respond but without resorting to low tactics if I can help it. However, it does annoy me.

Bullying is something that I have dealt with physically in the past; I despise bullies and in one particular episode from my childhood, the red mist descended forcing me to lash out at the perpetrator without fear of the consequences.

It worked and I never suffered again. I have made a pact with myself that I will not succumb to bullying of any kind and I will do my best to bring the bully down as hard and as fast as I can.

There are people out there who simply can’t do that and, worse, it is even more difficult if the bully is a troll who can hide behind anonymity, sitting there behind his keyboard pouring scorn on the world without fear of reprisal because, he thinks, he can get away with it.

I do pity some trolls though, because I have a theory that they have, in the past, been victims of bullying themselves and consider their behaviour to be acceptable. This breed of troll has been a victim in the past and has decided that he will become the very thing he despised because he thinks it will make him a better person.

It’s a kind of warped view on survival of the fittest. Behind the anonymity of the keyboard, the troll can be the alpha male he wants to be without fear of being conquered by others.

I pity those guys and hope that they see the error of their ways. The best way to respond to a bully is to fight back – not bully others.

Anyway, you’re probably curious about how I responded to Edward. Here’s what I said:

Hi "Edward",

It's very nice of you to comment; in particular it is very nice of you NOT to actually attempt to debate with me about the merits of Shakespeare. I am certain that Shakespeare himself would be impressed by your heroic defence of his work.

Except it's not really a defence is it? Clearly you can't put forward a cogent argument as to why I am wrong; you can't give me examples of why I should care one jot about the bard's work, like the other, more reasonable commentators on this post.

But hey - all I do is write drivel, eh?

If you dare, please try commenting again, this time with an email address or something, rather than under the anonymous name "Edward" and with less of a hint of the Keyboard Warrior.

I am willing to listen to people who can debate - but not people who blindly insult without actually thinking about what they are saying.

:-)

Cheers

PM

I even added my usual smiley.

One last thing, Edward – if you stumble across THIS piece of drivel and feel I am picking on you, then please feel free to engage in a discussion:

(a) Why Shakespeare ISN’T rubbish.
(b) Why you are not a Troll.

Let’s have a debate about it.

Anonymity can be used for many things – but using it to become a troll is something I struggle to forgive.

And Another Thing ...

I’m in the mood for a rant. Will you indulge me?

Too bad – I’m going to rant anyway. Let’s see where this goes. I’ll start with the Olympics.

You know how brilliantly Great Britain are doing at the Olympics? That’s something I am not going to target with my plastic wrath. Instead, I have BBC TV sports presenters in my sight.

Having endured about a week of listening to them on TV and radio, I am fed up of the constant gushing about the gold winning athletes. Please, please just offer congratulations instead of inventing superlatives and turning these athletes into deities.

I am happy that Bradley Wiggins won the road race; I am absolutely delighted that Jess Ennis beat the odds to triumph; I am over the moon that Andy Murray actually beat a legend; I couldn’t be happier for Ben Ainslie, Greg Rutherford, Victoria Pendleton or any of the other magnificent athletes.

But please stop going on about them as if they could fly to the moon and back.

And while we’re on, stop overusing the word journey.

X Factor started it.

"What a tough journey One Direction had to get here.”

These guys are BBC presenters and they prattle on about “journeys”. I know it’s difficult to talk about other things but please, for the sake of my sanity please try!

And why is X Factor still on TV? I am dreading the return of possibly the worst show ever to be conceived; a show that makes me want to destroy my television set. I could turn over but it is seriously difficult to find quality television sometimes.

I have Sky TV and I love watching sport and movies but, as Bruce Springsteen said, there are “57 Channels and nothin’ on.”

In fact it’s more like 357 channels. And that is particularly true in summer.

You may be wondering why I would want to watch TV in the summer when the weather is supposed to be  beautiful and we should all be outside basking in the heat and sunshine.

I can here you cry:

“Stop moaning at the TV, you plastic imbecile and get out there in the sunshine.”

Well, dear reader, I would – if it wasn’t pissing down outside.

July and August have been more like November and December this year.  We have had the wettest July on record and that is added to earlier months this year when it was also the wettest on record. The Jet Stream has been hovering south of the UK and bringing with it so much dreadful bloody weather that I want to put the whole thing into Room 101 together with Piers Morgan.

Constant, relentless rain has dampened my spirits to the point where I feel like running out to the middle of our street and kneeling down in the deluge with my arms skywards, pleading to whatever God is willing to listen to me:

"WHY WON’T YOU STOP RAINING?"

We had plans to take a week off work and travel to Scotland next week – but we daren’t. So instead we are spending more money – to fly south to Spain and spend a lot more money than I would have done.

Don’t get me wrong; a holiday to Spain will be most welcome, particularly Marbella, a place I haven’t been to before. The problem is that we have picked a particularly expensive part of Spain and Mrs PM has already tried to put me on a No Carbs till Marbs diet.

Don’t laugh – this is a genuine diet, inspired by yet another dumb TV show called The Only Way is Essex, full of a bunch of weirdos from (you've guessed it) Essex.

No way. The people of Marbella are going to have to put up with me waddling around with any excess body fat on show.

Not that I am fat. I might be a little bit overweight but my BMI is not bad for a guy of nearly 50. Nevertheless, if you happen to be in Marbella next week – don’t worry. I won’t be waddling around in clothes that make me look fat or ridiculous – unlike some holidaymakers I have seen.

There ought to be a law against wearing clothes that you shouldn’t.

I’m nearly 50 and I know where I’m flabby. I would never wear clothing that made me look like a total arse, under the illusion that I was the reincarnation of a muscular Greek Adonis. I would look like an absolute buffoon and probably make the Spanish throw up over their paella.

If you ever see me wandering around wearing clothes that make people ill, you have my permission to slap me.

I just wish I could do the same to some of the people who consider themselves to be athletic and absolutely attractive to the opposite sex, wearing clothes that accentuate everything that is disgusting about them.

I don’t do it (and believe me I look disgusting); why should THEY be allowed to get away with it?

If only I had the courage of my convictions. If only I had the courage to say to the 60 year old business man with a beer gut that is so huge that people scream when he turns around:

“Put a T shirt on – or should I say a tent! I don’t want to see your flabby, hairy beer belly and neither do all of these good people. And for God’s sake do NOT wear speedos.”

You see, dear reader, I am a silent ranter – one who rants to the cats, work colleagues who are entertained and my poor beleaguered and beloved Mrs PM – and nobody else.

Oh – apart from you, dear reader.

You see, I am a coward and I have to hide behind an alias here on the internet. Don’t get me wrong; I am not a troll. I would never openly insult a person, alias or no alias. I would never post a nasty comment on a blog post – even if I violently disagreed with the contents of that post.

I like to debate and allow discussions to germinate into an enjoyable experience for both parties – even if I think the other party is a clueless imbecile.

Debate is good; discussion is good. It opens up a whole new world of possibilities and, if done properly, can be an enjoyable learning experience.

So why, Mr Troll (and you know you’re out there reading this), do you insist on hurling abuse at poor innocent bloggers? Keyboard warriors wind me up so much that I have been tempted to track the buggers down.

Still, there’s no point getting upset with people who don’t know how to have a discussion about disagreements, people who just want to post vindictive nastiness under a pseudonym, in the hope that nobody will be able to track them down.

I think I’d better stop now before I get carried away.

Thanks for listening, dear reader – or should I say, thanks for reading.

Getting rid of stress by having a good rant is very therapeutic and, although I don’t genuinely get that upset over things, it eases any pressure that life has to throw at me. It is a necessary part of my existence.

I’ll finish off on a positive note.

Well done Team GB. I hate the name but 18 gold medals and counting is a majestic achievement.

Well done to each and every one of you. And well done to all athletes who have won medals for every other nation too.

I will not gush!

I WILL NOT GUSH!

And I definitely WILL NOT WEAR SPEEDOS!