The War-song of HAXZOR the troll

The right-wing blogs are sweeter,
But the left-wing blogs are fatter
And so we deemed it meeter
To go and troll the latter.

We picked an angry topic
To maximize the drama:
Disputing, all myopic,
The birthplace of Obama

Earnestly we started
As though we really meant it
So that the tender-hearted
Our right to ask defended.

The fiercer questioned harder
Suspecting our intention.
Our leader played the martyr
Which led to his suspension.

We knew the mod was reading
And so we changed our focus,
To trollery proceeding
While all the posters smote us.

We filled the thread with swearing
And flooded it with stockings.
We taunted them past bearing,
Decried each other’s blockings.

At last the thread was locked down
So laughing, we retreated
Another website knocked down;
Another group defeated.

Returning to our own site
We mocked them for believing
The web is here to make light
What’s darkened by our griefing.

Originally posted on Making Light

The small site on

I will click through and go now, and go to
And a small blog build there, with simple comment thread;
A tag cloud will I have there, a button for the stumbler-on
And set out thoughts too long unsaid.

And I shall speak the truth there, for truth comes growing slow,
Growing from the first “hello world” post to Technorati ranks;
There all I say is heartfelt, and all my virtues show,
And threads are full of “Well said’s” and “Thanks”.

I will arise and go now, for always as I read
I see my own posts crowding the windows on my screen
While tabbing through my browser, or in my Twitter feed,
I see my face in the glossy sheen.

Originally posted on Making Light

This ae site

(Part of a poetry slam with Chris Clarke)

This ae site, this ae site,
So long as screen-light glowes,
Joke and jest and fire-fight,
The web preserve thy prose.

When thou from hence art AFK
To Ever September make thy way

If ever thou gavest a newbie grace
Here in comfort take thy place

If taunting newbies was thy thing
Lang may thou with griefing sting

From Ever September click away
To Blogosphere make thou thy way

If ever a stranger thou savéd from flame
Here will others for thou do the same.

If only thy friends were safe with thee
4chan is thy destiny.

From Blogosphere then click away
To Social Media make thy way.

If ever with links thou gavest credit
Thy posts and name be top on Reddit.

If links and credit thou oft left aside
Thy authorship be alway denied.

This ae site, this ae site,
So long as screen-light glowes,
Joke and jest and fire-fight,
The web preserve thy prose.

Originally posted on Google+, copied to Making Light.


(Part of a poetry slam with Chris Clarke)

Raging and raging in the lengthening thread
The mood will not heed the moderator;
Rules sprout loopholes; the FAQ cannot answer;
Mere trollery is loosed upon the site,
The lambent prose is loosed, and everywhere
The assumption of good faith is crumbled;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some resolution is at hand;
Surely Going Viral is at hand.
Going Viral! Hardly are those words onscreen
When a vast image out of Fandom Wank
Troubles my stream: somewhere in the wilds of the net
A community with zeitgeist and common purpose,
A cause right and pitiless as the sun,
Is searching for a forum, while all their LJs
Trail threads of the approving, supportive THIS’s.
The tweets move on again; but now I know
That 287 TLDs of peaceful sites
Were vexed to nightmare by a raging thread
And what rough horde, its cause come round at last
Slouches toward my website to be borne?

Originally posted on Google+, copied to Making Light.

You are old, Mr Clarke

(Part of a poetry slam with Chris Clarke)

“You are old, Mr Clarke,” the woman said, stunned,
“And your music has gone out of style;
Yet your circles are full and your comments +1’d
Have you been on the net a long while?”

“In my youth,” Mr. Clarke replied to the lass,
“Our flamewars used genuine fires.
I still carve my zeroes; my ones are hand-cast.
They barely fit through the wires.”

“You are old,” said the girl, “you once used AOL
As shorthand to mean ‘you are clueless’.
I’ve no doubt at all you were once on the WELL —
Are you awestruck by all the newness?”

“In my youth,” said the blogger, pausing his post,
“Discussions on Usenet were clever.
And here we are still, and I don’t mean to boast,
But I’m just as witty as ever.”

“You are old, said the girl again, “antedating
Both Napster and Wikipedia.
Are you really a part of the world we’re creating
With sharing and social media?”

“In my youth” said the writer, “we shared without fail:
The carbon would blacken our cc’s.
We guessed from their style which posters were male,
But often we doubted their species.”

“You are old,” said the girl, “I can scarcely believe
The time you have been wasting in chatter.
What famines and poverties did you relieve
What injustices did you shatter?”

“I have answered three questions, and that is enough,”
Said Chris; “Tell me how if you’re friendless
You expect you can change all of that crucial stuff?
The potential of wank is just endless.”

Originally posted on Google+, copied to Making Light.