The Trollocaust and Feminazi Twitter Drama Explained in Context
Twitter is this unique social space that brings vastly different (and sometimes insular) Internet cultures together, and when this happens, the culture clash creates crazy Internet drama like yesterday’s “trollocaust,” dubbed so by the trolls, hackers and Anonymous-affiliates who felt they were under attack by “feminazis” hellbent on muffling their freedom of expression. Neither group has any business with the other, but here they are, operating on the same platform and pissing each other off. Maybe it’s time they went their separate ways. They don’t understand each other anyway. One’s harassment is another member’s way of showing love.
On Monday, dark web counter culture folk who follow rules and etiquette birthed from places like 4chan, Something Awful and Usenet found themselves at the mercy of older women who did not grow up with the Internet and viewed their obnoxious 4chan ways as if they were a foreign language. More than 45 accounts of people associated with Anonymous and activists were suspended as a result of this clash. The feminists lost only one, the twitter account for a blocking app used by feminists and atheists. The suspensions began after four women reported harassment, sadly still a common occurrence across most of the Internet, to Twitter.
If a woman (or a man) was being harassed, including with death and rape threats, on 4chan or a place operating under similar rules, the way to get the abuse to stop would be to come up with a witty retort preferably from the weird Internet society handbook of inside jokes and circle-jerkery. This witty retort can also be an offensive remark meant to disgust and upset the abuser, like making light of the Holocaust, questioning the abusers sexual orientation, gender, religion, whatever will upset the abuser to admit defeat. Besting the abuser in argument intellectually works as well, but a weak comeback can and will result in more abuse. One does not make controversial or unpopular statements in a 4chan-like place without the power of their convictions, and the last thing one wants to do is to lose their cool, get mad and contact the moderators or Internet police. Saying you will do so is taken as a sign you want and or need more harassment. New users in these web communities are generally hazed with abuse to ensure they can handle the madness that is the community, and are expected to speak in this coded way if they want to stay a part of the community. This code includes racist, misogynistic, antisemitic, homophobic and over the top offensive language and jokes despite many in the community being black, homosexual, feminist and Jewish.
Twitter is different. Twitter is not 4chan or the deep web, and will never be 4chan and the deep web– Twitter even has rules and tools in place to prevent it from being so, like the block button that eliminates the need for the person being harassed to best the harasser in any sort of argumentative exchange. A woman, especially an older woman, is not on Twitter to get into a face-off of “who is more offensive” or to find out who has a more logically sound argument, nor does she have time for such juvenile games. She uses Twitter for a completely different reason than the young male that frequents 4chan. To her, the slur “feminazi” is offensive, misogynistic and reminiscent of Rush Limbaugh, and a term she does not use ironically or in an attempt to “take it back” like younger feminists on the micro-blogging network. She does not get that she is being tested, because no one gave her the memo. Death threats and words like “trollocaust” are offensive to the woman, nay, most users on Twitter of both genders, because they don’t know they’re supposed to be offended by the term. They did not get this memo either. People on Twitter are not on the platform to condition themselves to bombastic and offensive statements or take a crash course in how to withstand cyber-bullying. Many of them are genuinely incapable of handling offensive language on a screen and when they see it, they will report it whether or not they understand the context. In the rules dictated in the Twitter space, it is not normal to receive death and rape threats, and people who make such threats are reported to the authorities or in this case, the Twitter police. The Twitter police actually do their jobs in Twitterland, and if they find someone violating their rules, they will suspend said user. These are the rules of Twitter, and by Twitter’s own inclusive nature, are very different from 4chan-like etiquette. 4chan’s 10 year old codex is rebellious, alienating, cultish and strange while Twitter’s is more akin to civil and mainstream society by design. Twitter is its own web place and can do what they want.
Which brings us to the “trollocaust:” the 4chan game cannot be played on Twitter because not everyone knows the rules. Even if all users do know these crazy Internet society rules, they may not want want to play by them, and it is unfair to subject them to the game because outside of the 4chan context the game appears quite rude with players mostly bigots. The game only works if everyone knows they are playing, and since not everyone is playing, everyone loses.
So what’s a troll, Anonymous affiliate or follower of deep web etiquette and humor to do? Go elsewhere, maybe even back to 4chan and Something Awful. Anywhere but Twitter, because Twitter doesn’t want you, and you just lost the game. No one likes a loser.
Or, you know, make your accounts private and communicate however you see fit with your peers.
“I want to both have sex with her AND strangle her to death. But in which order…?”
The response? A few joking replies and little else. Not a single person objects or scolds the users. No one even clicks the “dislike” button on menace8012’s comment.
The incident is evident of a larger trend on YouTube, where sexist attitudes towards women run unchecked. It’s not just the trolls or haters in the comments section of videos; YouTubers have cyberbullied women based off their appearance since the site’s inception.
Menace8012’s comment, and the community’s response (or lack thereof), may seem extreme to the casual YouTube community safarian, but it also perfectly portrays why so few women have found success on YouTube. Many women on YouTube try to avoid this negative sexist environment by cloistering themselves in the beauty section of YouTube, but that does little to combat the anti-women sentiments running rampant throughout the rest of the site.
Like rape apologist ideology, YouTubers who silently upvote, or in this case “like,” menace8012’s comment are implying iJustine deserves the threats and derogatory comments she gets, daily, because of the way she looks and dresses. Sometimes in her videos, the blonde, blue-eyed and pretty iJustine wears a tank top and lip gloss, and that little bit of sexuality occasionally sends both genders into a sexist frenzy. Read the rest of this entry »
I convinced VICE to publish a gossip column/industry & conference review as a poem yesterday. So yeah, I am serious about this.
Why poetry? Because when it comes to story-telling, it is the most efficient form. Least input, brain fills in the rest. Imagination hacking, if you will. I love making the reader unpack things, toying with words.
A resurgence of mass public interest in poetry coincides with Twitter’s 140 character limit, I have to mention this. There is a certain beauty in brevity when you consider the infinite space on the web… and data caps. (Vine too, if we want to go multimedia with this)
Poetry even looks like programming!
Given the following as precedent, poetry going mainstream is not far fetched: You have Weird Twitter poets, the alt lit crowd, teens writing poetry on Tumblr (more accepted than when I was doing it on deadjournal as a preppy goth, too). Dan Sinker’s expletive-filled Twitter parody of Rahm Emanuel (however unfunny) still got turned into a book deal. Twitter account Shit Girls Say becomes a live web series. And then you have Patricia Lockwood writing an incredibly well-received poem on a personal experience, titled “Rape Joke” on The Awl. Read the rest of this entry »
My favorite time to take selfies is when I am drunk and alone in the bathroom. I tend to take the majority of them while inebriated, actually, and online evidence proves even middle-aged women do the inebriated selfie in the bathroom too.
Yes, even the Boston Marathon Bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, when he wasn’t sober, whipped out his cellphone and took selfies. And one of these non-sober self-portraits (speculatively) is on the cover of Rolling Stone right now and making a name for itself as the most controversial selfie on our planet.
Media critics are calling Rolling Stone everything short of evil for using his selfie photo as cover art, never mind that Instagrammed self-portraiture is becoming a legitimate form of art and feminist self-expression. This universality is exactly why the self-portrait of the young and handsome (and murderous, don’t you forget) Tsarnaev as cover art choice is outrageous. How dare we relate to a killer! How dare a magazine make us feel this way! If I were the art director over at the Rolling Stone right now, I would be creaming my pants: this is the type of feedback creative types have wet dreams about.
Tsarnaev’s selfie effectively normalizes him, and as the three-day long controversy has shown, we just cannot deal with that. We would rather depart reality and delude ourselves into thinking national-headline-making killers are ugly and have nothing in common with us than see them engaging in everyday behavior. If we could somehow magically teleport to a place where we all believed Tsarnaev didn’t know how to operate a phone, we would.
In fact, to portray Tsarnaev as ordinary is dangerous, they imply, because in order to feel better about the bombings we need to see the differences, not the similarities, between ourselves and the cruel killer. It sounds absurd, but this is more or less what the critics are saying. The New York Times thinks this kind of madness is a result of the heatwave. Possibly. I think it might be a combination of Tsarnaev’s image making fresh the horror of the bombings, much like that just-healing summer scrape you accidentally pick at only to have it start oozing.
The selfies we share on the web are supposed to be the best reflection of ourselves. This skewed mirror is precisely why the Boston Globe in a Thursday post echoing the collective rage calls the use of the selfie “ill-advised” and “irresponsible.” While many of us cannot fathom Tsarnaev’s terrorist intentions, we can all relate to photographing ourselves and dare-I-say-it, creating a typically blemish-free personal brand online. The self-portrait via cellphone is a “language we all understand,” but …we don’t want to understand a bomber. Please don’t make us understand one.
This now infamous selfie, originally displayed on Tsarnaev’s twitter profile, was the “mask” he chose to portray to the world and glorifying it by featuring it on a rock-and-roll magazine is akin to “collaborat[ing] with Tsarnaev in the creation of his own celebrity,” continued the Boston Globe.
Need I remind everyone, Tsarnaev was already a “celebrity” before his Rolling Stone cover, having graced the front pages of newspapers the world over with some even featuring that same image. Rolling Stone is not responsible for this mass media interest, the spread of the photo, or for Tsarnaev’s fanbase of young girls cooing over the soft locks in his approachable selfies. To suggest Rolling Stone is appealing to Tsarnaev’s misguided female fans by choosing this already-widely circulated photo when this same criticism was not levied against the New York Times, is logic I’d only be able to process if my head was in the sand.
CVS banning the sale of the magazine in its shops (and now Walgreens too), and folks celebrating this decision, is akin to saying “monsters must be clearly portrayed as monsters, or else.” Who wants to live in that black-and-white society, presumably filled with bad art? Not me. (Not to imply Tsarnaev’s selfie as cover photo of a magazine is good art — it is in fact the opposite for a variety of reasons and not just because of the bad captions.)
The disconnect between the villain within and the exterior shell of Tsarnaev as a potential sweetheart through his selfies is precisely why the self-portrait should be used for feature-length pieces about his descent into terrorism. But don’t just take my word for it.
Cover Think points out Rolling Stone’s cover is “doing nothing more than reflecting back to us the vanity of a young man’s narcissism, complete with his Armani Exchange T-shirt.” The Washington Post writes “the photo in question jibes with the impression of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev that has emerged from countless interviews with friends and schoolmates” before calling the cover art choice “an accurate and journalistically responsible portrayal of this young man.”
To not use the photo as cover art because it humanizes, then, reveals a willful ignorance on the modern human condition. It is not only “irresponsible,” but bad journalism too. Art that elicits strong emotions is powerful, but banning it only increases its strength.
We can’t will away Tsarnaev’s cellphone, his looks or his seemingly normalness, just like how we can’t will back the lives and limbs his actions stole. And maybe that’s okay, because sometimes we need to see the similarities between ourselves and the villain in order to help us understand the differences. Cellphone selfie and all.
As for the cellphone selfie as legit art form, well, this controversy took care of that.
This is a guide for people who are more interested in the cultural and societal implications of technology from a non-technical background. (I’d recommend attending all the “future of TV/media” talks as a beginners guide to video distribution and social media use.)
Thursday, June 27th:
The US First Robotics Challenge, from 12pm – 4pm.
“US First’s mission is to inspire young people to be science and technology leaders, by engaging them in exciting mentor-based programs that build science, engineering and technology skills, that inspire innovation, and that foster well-rounded life capabilities including self-confidence, communication, and leadership.”
“The debate around how we should view the concept of intellectual property and copyright in the digital age has continued since the launch of Napster in the ’90′s until today. Why is file-sharing still so limited and how has it affected the world at large?”
Friday, June 28th:
Funny or Die‘s “When Humor is Serious Business,” from 11:00am – 11:30am, featuring Funny or Die CEO Dick Glover. (I have an inkling what Glover will discuss, but being as I have never heard him speak, he might surprise me.)
“Funny or Die is now synonymous with Internet humor…What makes their business model so successful? How do they acquire high quality content with a low budget? What does the future of Funny or Die—and Internet entertainment in general—look like?”
Digital Art; From Easels to Pixels, 12:00pm – 12:30pm
“Art infilitrates everyday life, and every surface, object, or open space is fair game for medium. See how artists are incorporating technology into their work, whether as a means to an end or as the finished product itself. These people are innovating on what it means to be a traditional artist and the burgeoning interest in creating art meant to be consumed in digital form.”
The very ambitiously titled “How the Second City Can Become the First in Fashion,” 5:00pm – 6:00pm
“Take the tech from the West and the high-end fashion from the East and meet somewhere in the middle. Where do you end up? Chicago, of course. Combining the best of both coasts, a slew of Chicago startups are leading the pack in terms of the merging of high-tech and high-fashion.”
Saturday, June 29
In the wake of Hasting’s mysterious death and the conspiracy theories suggesting his car was hacked I feel compelled to attend “Driverless Cars: Speeding to the Future,” 12:30pm – 1:00pm
“While flying cars are still just a figment of our collective imagination, self-driving vehicles—such as the Google Car—are on the imminent horizon. Not only does this technology have the potential to prevent millions of injuries and save countless lives, it also has the power to disrupt the flow of trillions of dollars in industry revenue. Nearly everyone will be affected: suppliers, automakers, service-and-repair shops, insurers, energy companies, hospitals, and car rental companies, to name a few. Undoubtedly, there will be huge implications for all transportation and logistics—the backbone of every company’s supply and distribution chains.”
Entrepreneurship in Eastern Europe, 1:30pm – 2:00pm
“Eastern Europe’s tech scene is small but growing. Find out what Google is doing to facilitate the growth of the tech sector in Poland and beyond, what ideas are brewing in that corner of the world, and how they plan to impact the future.”
“Is the Internet Destroying the Middle Class?,” 2:00pm – 2:30pm
Alternative title: Why working from home for years as a depressed person injured by a car while riding their bike is a really fucking bad idea! (also, always do your physical therapy!)
Other alternative title ideas: Please look out your windows when opening car doors, and in general as a car driver, please be kind to cyclists. I know you guys and gals currently have a war going on for the road with the bicyclists, but it’s not worth killing, paralyzing, or injuring a person permanently over.
It’s been a little over a month since I’ve updated this blog, and so many things have happened in that time – including me smoking weed with Snoop Lion (and then lighting my hair on fire and vomiting in a diner bathroom because marijuana and alcohol don’t mix duh-I-should-know-better) - that I am having a hard time keeping up. The most important bit of news though, is of course the title of this personal blog post.
I’ve actually been struggling to get any major work done since my emergency doctor’s visit last Wednesday. All I want to do is dance around my apartment, have sex or masturbate, or sleep because damn am I sore and tired now that I can walk and balance properly. The last thing I want to do is sit still and type away on a laptop. I’ve been typing my life away, glued to my Internet machine, for a few years now and it has caused me a world of physical and mental pain. I mean that in the most literal way possible – my sedentary, hermit lifestyle made my injury and depression worse.
See, the last issue left over from my biking accident – which included a concussion, cracked rib, and puncture wound in my chest above my right breast – originally manifested as a mild back pain. When I woke up on the concrete now almost four years ago due to a searing pain in my torso, I looked down at my legs and thought I was paralyzed: my legs looked odd and tangled up in my bike frame. Emergency xrays found nothing broken or wrong with my back, but something still ached as they stitched up the hole in my chest while I was on morphine.
I go back to the ER three months later complaining of what feels like a sunburn directly under my skin around my back, ass, and leg, but the nurse doesn’t think I have a slipped disk. The sunburn under my skin sensation mysteriously disappears during the visit, and feeling foolish (and broke) I sneak out of the hospital without paying.
A hike in Yosemite nine months later leaves my right knee horrible and throbbing and limiting my vacation activities on the very first day. While running for the bus drunk one warm day a few months later, my right leg gives out unexpectedly and I skid across the cement, obtaining large scabs on both elbows, forearms, knees and wrists. The next day I tell people at a bar I saved a kid from being hit by a car when people ask about the (rather gross and leaking) bandages, and the story gets me free drinks.
More than a year passes and I start complaining to a resident doctor from the original hospital about my leg feeling off, even being a different size and shape – particularly the muscle on my right thigh – but he finds nothing via x-ray of my back nor nothing wrong with my leg. He doesn’t actually touch it though, and I am unsatisfied with the entire experience.
Doctors at another hospital decide to also x-ray my back but they too find nothing, except what they call a healthy spine. They do send me to physical therapy for my back and while there, the therapist notes muscle atrophy all over my body but particularly the right leg, a really stiff right hip, and bad posture from sitting all day. Since I am there for my back though, the problem isn’t addressed except in scribbles in his notebook.
By now I have joined a startup web publication that has me working from home. My beat has me covering the Internet including the time-consuming YouTube and hackers that only come out to play late at night. I stop regularly spending time outside and hanging with friends, instead living on my couch sitting Indian style or with my foot tucked under my butt… all ways I have been sitting since I was a little girl, and ways unbeknownst to me, would make my pain worse. I stop moving almost entirely, still too afraid to ride my bike, and I start putting on weight. The electric shocks on my right side that sometimes make my muscles twitch also start interfering with what little sleep I get, too.
Two years post accident and the trip to the liquor store – the only time I am leaving my apartment daily – starts to hurt. My right leg tingles, feels weak, sometimes burns, and I have to actively pay attention to how I put my right foot down – I really just want to drag it. I also start accidentally swerving into people on the sidewalk. When this happens at a bar, I pretend to be drunk and apologize profusely.
I am now the heaviest I have ever been in my life, and I am ashamed of my body that once used to do ballet but is now inexplicably failing and off-balance. My mate of now-8 years unconsciously starts fat-shaming me.
To make matters worse, sex becomes painful to the point where I can’t come properly any more. When I do, it is a dull, almost numb ache or the exact opposite- it is so sharp I start tearing uncontrollably. It definitely feels different, but given all the problems already on my plate I ignore it. I blame it on mental illness.
Lack of human interaction and cabin fever make me even more miserable and the depression mixed with paranoia I am absorbing like a sponge from my late-night hacker sources lead to a period of intense mania that lasts for months. My mate emails an old therapist, worried I have schizophrenia or manic depression as I have started raving about my right leg being a different size (among other symptoms) and alcohol, weed, and standard over the counter painkillers are no longer keeping me comfortably numb. I have fleeting thoughts of suicide I sweat away in hour-long baths. (If I didn’t have a writing career, a supply of weed and Team Fortress 2, I think I would have offed myself for sure. )
June arrives and I finally get health insurance (for a month), and the chiropractor I go to tells me my hip is out of alignment and that my right leg is longer than the left. I feel vindicated – I may be a little crazy, but at least I am right about this! She snaps and stretches me back into place and I visit her a couple times and become good at walking for a few months. She recommends I do yoga and ballet at home, and when I do, become fully aware of how weak and unstable my right leg is.
The pain returns tenfold by August, however, given lack of funds for chiropractic visits they promptly end. The difficulty level of walking to the store to buy alcohol increases exponentially, with my right ass cheek hurting at a beyond distracting level of 8ish on the pain scale. “My ass is falling off,” I start saying with alarming frequency. No one knows what I mean.
At one point I think I have kidney stones, as it feels like tiny rocks are moving through organic tubes in my hip, crotch and back area. Giant bee stings regularly radiate down my right leg and into my toes, no longer content to live in my hip, thigh and back. I can no longer talk and walk at the same time because if I tried, I would trip. Walking requires that much of my concentration. I fantasize about getting a cane and making it fashionably cool outside the steampunk crowd.
Less than six months later, I eventually save up to go to a new doctor – a female doctor- and she feels my right thigh and notes the swelling by my crotch. She gives me vicodin for what she is determines is severe arthritis in my hip. I refuse to take the vicodin because I hate the way it makes me feel; namely, I can’t write or work while on it as a nauseous zombie.
While visiting a Jain temple in India this February, I slip on the marble and fall on my right side. Somehow the fall lessens the pain enough that by the end of the month we climb Chembra Peak to the lake.
Promptly upon returning to the States, I start fretting again because my pain has become unmanageable once I settle back into the sitting-all-day-for-work that is my lifestyle. I try stretching, sitting, standing, walking, – none of it alleviates the pain. I take a really long bike ride which seems to work, but 2 days later I am roaring with pain, ready to go to the ER (but don’t because it is expensive). The female doctor prescribes me Prednisone as now she thinks I might have nerve damage; I have begun to properly describe the pain that shifts around my right side. Prednisone is a much needed blessing and I am practically pain free for the week I am on it. She also wants to do a gynecological exam since I told her of my sexual dysfunction, but I don’t have the money so don’t schedule.
Which brings me into last week, into Dr. Heddles care, where he determined my sciatic nerve was not sliding properly along the muscle and bone in my hip. It was getting stuck and rubbing on things it shouldn’t and when it did, emitted signals that basically froze my muscles including my right ass. Instead of working, the muscle just hung there, which was why I kept thinking it would fall off if I walked more than a block. Using ART on the soft tissue, he opened up my hip and almost immediately relieved pressure on my sciatic nerve.
Less than 48 hours after Heddles unstiffened my hip by a little bit, and I find myself watching porn and having orgasm after orgasm from 1 – 4am. My pussy feels almost as it did five years ago. I can’t believe how much I missed it.
I am not out of the clear yet – the pain is still there in my hip and ass, but at a manageable 3 – 6 level. I’ll visit Dr. Heddles a few more times in the coming months sans insurance- but I am determined to do so as I like being able to walk, bike, and feel things in my crotch. I am not paying my student loans currently in order to afford it, but right now my attitude towards those loan companies (which until recently were collecting double my rent) is they can simply suck it.
Long-term goal is to pay for an EMG, but until then, I am making sure I move once every hour. To correct my sitting posture, I keep my shoes on while at home, and when sitting at my desk have a stool between my legs to keep me from crossing them.
Short-term goal? Finally learn how to moonwalk.
Looking back on the years of pain, I see staring back at me an insecure, fearful, lost and irritable woman. Look ahead to the future I can’t really tell what I will look like, but do know there will be a ton of walking, biking, maybe running, but definitely some sweet sweet dancing.
Week of the 15 – 19: where I try to function in the worst news week ever and am snubbed for some reason (probably because of my parts)Posted: April 22, 2013
The past week was an incredibly rough news week. I don’t know why I need to write that. Everyone in the US knows what I am talking about.
I knew I had become hypersensitive to the news by Thursday morning and while it’s true bad things happen all over the world every single day, the Boston Marathon bombing set the tone for the rest of the week as one of fear and sadness. I cried over many headlines and news tidbits on every day of the week until Friday, when I decided to read a tenth of the news I usually do. I was hiding under a rock, unwilling to read anything about anything, especially if it had something to do with the Boston marathon bombing.
Add to that me trying to juggle three freelance gigs for the first time. I didn’t do a particularly good job of it, but I’ve been worse during other national tragedies. Stupid super empathy, you’re good for nothing but bouts of anger and tears in times like these. Well, enough about my weird brain chemistry, here’s a recap of this week and a preview of the upcoming one:
On Monday, my Guardian piece about Anonymous and it’s mainstream shift/ now established expertise at PR was published, and it did well throughout the day (and week). I say that based off comments and retweets. I was really surprised no one in the UK or US picked out the best part of it though: that the President of United States fears Anonymous. That great factoid is courtesy of Gabriella Coleman. The Globe and Mail picked up the article though, and so did the Raw Story, which was cool.
Monday also saw me chatting with Jaime Cochran about weev and his legacy, over whiskey on the rocks. I am trying to write a good personal profile on weev for VICE, explaining the man behind the bad boy myth, perhaps even evoke some sympathy for him. I have been talking to various friends for a couple weeks now, and I have my own experiences with him over these last few years, but it wasn’t until tonight (Sunday) that I got the interview with a source I’d been looking for. I think I can finally finish that piece tomorrow, which is great, because maybe Motherboard is annoyed with me now. But they need to pay me – the student loan people have begun to hound me with phone calls again. (Because I am a simple person that loves alliteration, I made Motherboard’s primary day Monday.) Read the rest of this entry »
There is one notable narrative in The Mckenzie Ivey Web Show (which had only 16 episodes): the loss of her Russian hamster JubJub.
Appearing in “MY HAMSTER PIMP 333″ on September 4, 2010 , Jubjub is promptly lost on September 19. kenzieivey once again chair dances to Souja Boy’s “Pretty Boy Swag” in “jubjub where are you,” as if to lure the hamster out.
And then almost like an afterthought, the 10ish-year-old girl uploads another video with the same title, this time explaining her predicament.
Jubjub is not to be found, however. kenzieivey lets the people of YouTube know, in “the hamsters gone,” uploaded on October 17th. Jubjub has been missing for more than a month.
kenzieivey lost interest in The Mckenzie Ivey Web Show shortly thereafter, and joined an elite list of tween YouTubers I wouldn’t mind having as my younger sibling.