Internet culture/unculture: So, trolling. How does someone do it?

Trolling is that magical art of satan on the internet that lets you fuck with other people over the internet. But, people react differentially to different things. Some people hate racism, some hate just bitching and moaning, others hate some of the other trolls mentioned a while ago. So, how do you bother someone that bad with words? Some people just can't be trolled. Others, like those self diagnosed with autism are incredibly easy to troll. It's just a matter of striking on some hot issue that they have. Like the ''autistic'' people (or people with actual autism for that matter, it's like fishing with dynamite.) or people who play minecraft and are really devoted. Say things that normal people would shrug off to autistic people and then post videos of better games on Minecraft's forums. Don't seem to anti board subject though, just seem to like something better. Start squabbles with unpopular members and then blame them. Start controversial topics, and then stick to one side, but blame others. This is pass the blame game. Just shove it off.

Internet Culture/Unculture:Internet slang dictionary for those people who don't normally use the internet but found this stupid thing.

So, for those people who got a link to here from my facebook page (I'm getting as many readers as I can, because higher numbers= larger ego.), you probably don't know much about the internet (I used italics, things be gettin serious bro). So, I mention a lot of blatantly stupid and cult like phrases and stupid jokes literally NO ONE ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH will ever get because they are just that. Stupid. So, some terms I'm going to be using when I talk about the internet.

Meme- Stuff that gets really popular, like the Bed intruder song, bring amberlamps, and some other things like all your base. I have a website with all of this stuff that I might link to (not that anyone will actually READ this, but I feel like I should).

When I type like an idiot- When I misspell things or type with numbers, it's because I'm imitating someone who doesn't know how to ( the shift key. Use it In MoDeRaTiOn.). Other times I'm genuinely misspelling something because I can't use a good web browser like google chrome or, firefox if I have to.

Troll- Some one who tries to irritate other people over the internet. People in online communities use this as an insult if someone is either disagreeing or being retarded or ignorant. I'll mention this a lot because I would really like to find out what bothers people over the tubes versus what would bother them in real life.

Telephone tough guy- Someone who acts tough over the phone or something.

Other stuff- I'll explain as I go along.

Updating is a hassle for everything

A lot of the times people will pester an artist, programmer, or content creator of a different trade to  post more news updates. This is kind of a dumb thing to say, because it takes a lot of time to write a big update for stuff, or a small one like right now. I feel I have to fill up at least five lines in this blogger text box, and that's like, a lot of words. Or space anyway. I feel the claim seems a little inconsiderate, if you take into account that the fan is asking probably has a blog that is dying of neglect (gee, wonder why that was so specific?).

Internet/ unculture- how an troll works

So, if you haven't read the latest article, you can tell I am a crappy troll. But, this is one type of trolling. No, wait, two. Mentally unstable, and discriminatory. These are two of a bunch of types. I'm going to name a few that I know of, and describe them. I put way to much time into this, and should stop.
 Categories

Mentally unstable-
You know, those guys who like to post crazy stuff and be trans-humanist or have exactly zeron control on their emotions. These ones are also more likely to be puppets, because you don't have to be crazy to act like it. Emos who cry and post suicide threats online, anyone who posts at  three in the morning their time and says stuff about doing drugs, or has some belief system that can hit everyone's nerves is usually a mentally unstable troll. Likes to do a lot of drugs, and tell EVERYBODY about what they do offline and link to weird (read: scary) stuff. Often overlaps with troubled past guy.

teh f0u1 /\/\0u71-1-
They can't type, or are using I.E. eight to call you a homo. Pathetic, usually never gets banned if only due to lack of activity after the first day. Likes to use homosexuality as an insult, and says you have no life without any provocation. The most common type, and usually spams too. They are usually not very smart in real life, or really sensitive and feel like this will get to other people.

Dark and troubled past-
Makes up or has a sob story about how they were psychologically/physically/metaphorically messed up as a kid/adult/fry cook and then continues posting and brings their issues into it. On medication? Most likely! Self diagnosed Autism? You bet! This one usually makes a big story thread for you to show condolences (probably call them out) in. These ones are usually sock puppets or completely fake, but they are actually funny sometimes. When they freak out that is.

Moar of these later, I just want to get this post published.

Magechill's mind- Camp shame.

Alright, I've had this idea for about a month now. It came from my team meetings for some science fair and we kept talking about some obesity problems (standing at five four,I weigh around ninety eight pounds, so I can make fat jokes.) and meth addicts and super farm defense (exploding corn and tazer turrets). Then I kept thinking about fat people, and all of those fat sixth graders taking up half the hallway. And then I thought about fat camps, and, being a dwarf fortress player, creating a hell recognized by everyone. It'd be called camp shame. All of the fat kids would start by having anything over  one hundred calories that they brought with them thrown to the wolverines. After that, they would have their clothes delivered- striped jumpsuits. They would have to lay a brick for every pound they were overweight times four. So say they were twenty pounds overweight, they'd lay eighty bricks.That would be the cabins. If some of them still bricks to lay, they'd start working on the track. After the track was finished (if they didn't brick it, they'd dig it out the grass in the track. The rest would running and taking breaks to feed the wolverines, the one good thing in the camp. They'd be eating army meals and stuff too, and experiencing drill sergeant liposuction, which is a vacuum, a steak knife and ketamine tranquilizers. You get the idea, right?
NOTE: I do not mean anything out of this, but it was from a while ago with a bad idea by me, three other people and the teacher that made us do a group project.

This is being like, reused. Isn't that liberally disturbing?

So, this an old blog, bein re-used. I've matured a lot in these past say, 9 months. A lot things have happened, mainly me realizing I'm an internet troll, and a really bad one. My personality has developed, I found Dwarf Fortress (the best thing to happen, it actually happened before the last blog post, and I found it less than a week before the mega release), started reading MSPA, and a whole bunch of other online media. I developed my political views (whichever party is a means to make healthcare and all that stuff work better, cut out stupid unimportant costs and certain social welfares), and joined bay12, and all that nice stuff. Since then I got a year older, a few hours smarter, and got into better, less crappy media using my laptop to get it (my internet connection where my desktop is located is very, very bad, so I usually latch off of a buddies). So, I guess this is going to be about internet culture and whatever happens in my life then? I could make it work. And ignore all the old posts. I'm leaving those there because I have archive issues, but they are not important at all.

Republicans are Masochistic

You know bloody well what I mean.

Lasars are the only way to go my friend

Someone is coming to my house.End of story, for now.And I'm wondering how many hornets Cruz has amassed over the spring break.The ants are getting worse...I'm waiting for my dad to call the exterminator and finish them off. (I'm done with long winded posts who ever reads this, this is about as bad as it'll get though.)

The statue got me high.

Using my Brennan Broker(Copy righted and trademarked, don't get any ideas you filthy mud wallowers) I am getting a game without being at the store.Instead I'm typing this! Aren't you glad?I'm also replacing a duck that died without the Brennan Brokers figuring out that it was dead.Yes, I know this was on quite a few shows, but it works.Trust me.But you don't now do you?You're all waiting for the moment I crack, go insane, and start putting car batteries in the local pool.

Bitches I came back!

So a montage of things that I did in the past two months: I was rejected. And again. I started Yay for Failure up again, this time we're doing fake student council dances to mess with people's heads. I got a laptop to kick one thousand times more ass than I can on this beautiful desktop I'm typing on right now. I distanced myself from my mother more (if polar opposites could be further away).Got Dwarf Fortress (don't ask, trust me).And I restarted this blog.There was some other stuff, but it was boring.

Finished chapter 4 (Holy hell this is hard!)

Chapter 4
We Fall out (start of extended edition, scrapping school project feel)

As it turns out, the missiles didn’t kill us. We were trapped, sleeping in the building, which had taken no damage due to the lock down stasis and the activation of the fall out status for the master building. And, had we been outside, it would not have mattered. After so many years of environmental abuse, the human race had evolved to be radiation proof. At least, the people who worked. We were exposed to so much radiation, it would’ve killed the planet one hundred years earlier. But, through the poor working conditions and mass exposure of earlier generations, we were virtually radiation proof. In fact, it had become a source to eat away building toxins in our bodies. We had come to need the very thing that should have destroyed us. We had done nothing, as this was one of many clone silos, so to speak. We had destroyed factories, and released a number of things that had been held by the government. We had also altered the landscape; again. We had made it more of a desert than metropolis. One thing to thank C for, taking away one of the millions of reasons to hate him.

After mulling the situation over and deciding things were no better than worse, aside from the fact that we had decimated the continental population (Which wasn’t exactly overcrowded to begin with), I decided to wake up Derrick. I shook his shoulder and he mumbled something. Probably best to get to him later. I gave Selma a light tap on the shoulder and she stretched.

“What happened? I knew he’d pull something like this, we should’ve killed him when we had the chance!” Selma screamed, balling her fists.

“What’s going on? Why were we asleep? I thought I turned the security stuff off…” Derrick mumbled groggily, rubbing his eyes.

Selma’s screaming had woken up most of the soldiers, and Derrick.

“I’m guessing Roy has taken the rest of the troop somewhere else. I can’t believe I trusted that writhering maggot. Let’s try to find him. Hopefully I can put my hands around C’s neck while we try to find them. ”I said, grinding my teeth in anger.

I walked up the stairs, and was greeted by an empty hallway, littered with corpses of bluecoats and broken gun turrets. I followed the chaos, troops, Selma, and Derrick, right behind me, until we came to Roy.

“I hate that stupid fucking little arrogant joker. I should’ve killed when I had the chance. This isn’t the way things were supposed to be. He just decided to bomb everything. When I catch that sniveling little  dumbass, I’m going to kill him and hang his body for everyone to tear apart.” Roy yelled in anger, all direct towards C.
“We better get out of this building, said Derrick, piling a couple of mortars at the base of the wall. He walked back a few feet and fired a shot into them. They exploded, blowing a make shift exit in the wall.

“Better get going. I have no idea what’s out there.” Selma warned.

“I’m going to find that idiot. I hope I see you again.” Roy announced.

“Pleasure working with ya.” Derrick  said as he waved without turning around.

“Bye. Try to find us if you kill him.” I yelled, hoping that I would find him first.

“So Greg, where are we going?” Selma asked.

Sorry. I truly am.

I haven't been on blogger in a week, and it seems the post writing layout has changed. And I'm pleased to inform you that I have made no progress on Hostile Takedown. I still have some ripping to do to the master copy, located on my flash drive, and then up date both/ all three backups. So, yes. Here's where I will post the end of we fallout, chapter four, if you read it. So, until I post the story, I'm awaiting for suggestions for banners.(REAL suggestions, not vague ones.)

New look of things.

I'm going to give this place some banners, but I need an idea of what to make. Any ideas will be considered. I'm going to have a left and right, and possibly a top one. Feel free to add some ideas.

I wroted an storie.

Hostile Takedown

By [Name magically ripped out]

Prologue

Date 2015, December 16th: Wal-mart officially buys the republic of China, renaming it in its image.

Date: 2017, July 8th: The U.S. is bought out by Wal-mart due to inability to pay the trade deficit.

Date: 2017, November 31st: All of the new laws take effect, everyone in the countries that were the United States and China, now Walistan, are drafted into the army and sent overseas in a quick attempt to invade Canada.

Date: 2021, October 22nd: Walistan officially takes over Canada through military submission, begins to claim other countries.

Date 2045: Wal-mart claims Russia, the last remaining “free” country; the world is now a subsidiary of Wal-mart.

What do these dates and events mean? They are what shaped the future, tore the world apart and then pieced it back together, ever so fragile and weak, barely holding on, death better then the meager, miserable clinging to survival that passes for life. The world is in shambles, the global conglomerate has stayed in power for over 200 years, destroying, polluting, and rotting away the Earth, forcing it’s “Citizens”, those who aren’t the result of a biological experiment to create better prison guards, into slave labor, creating products for everyone to buy, though there isn’t enough money in circulation to buy a bottle of water. No, it’s all locked away in the bank of Walistan, held by the government.

My first memory was when I was five years old and I was laying on my bed, in a concrete shack built by the government to house people who worked in my district, eating some limp carrots and staring at the ceiling thinking about my life. I had thought it would be the same as long as I lived, manufacturing goods for no one to buy but the owners of Wal-Mart (Clones of the original, taught that the world was theirs to use and all the goods, water, and other things were theirs), making the same things, then I met C. Didn’t know his name and didn’t know what he was doing. I realize now that he was fixing a shipment of goods to explode upon drop off, but it seemed innocent at the time. I asked him what he was doing, since it was during break, and we are not allowed to work, guarded by “Bluecoats” (Genetically augmented people, twice the size and strength of a normal human with some odd problems, called blue coats from the clothing they wear), which didn’t really matter, since all the guards were withering on the floor like worms clutching their ears in pain. And there he was affixing a bomb to a box full of shoes. He was tall, looked about fourteen years old and was wearing a black trench coat that looked like it was overloaded with objects, most likely for something like he was doing, and black steel toed boots. I asked what he was doing and he cringed and turned around almost hitting me in the face.

“If you say anything about this to anyone, I’m going to strangle you.” He said angrily.

“In fact, I should probably take you with me so you can’t tell. Going with me is a lot better than staying here anyway.

I followed him outside. That was the last day I conventionally worked.

Chapter 1

Planning all the while

Fast forwarding 11 years, I learned a lot about C. I learned what he did to the bluecoats, and all it involved was a speaker or a sound pulse gun and they dove to the floor from the frequency it was set on. I also learned that he had a strange affection to almonds and would carry bags full of them with him. It turns out the smell of almonds sets off bluecoats and pumps enough adrenaline through their heart to kill sixteen people in the course of three minutes. I also learned he had been doing what he did for years, and all he wanted was to “destroy the company at any cost”. But he has a sense of humor about these things. He had joined a revolution force, which had very little power before him, but he rallied the soldiers and general, Roy, and made plans to assassinate the clones of the creators of Wal-mart, effectively locking up the A.I.s used to run everything. The creators commanded the A.I.s and were programmed to only listen to them.

We were in a shanty normally occupied by workers, but we had convinced them to leave. By convinced I mean held at gunpoint. Some even joined the rebellion.

“So the plan is clear?”

“Uhuh. I go in shoot stuff, neutralize and or kill some bluecoats, and clear the way for you to claim part of the revolution glory. Then I…. Do what I need to do. Heh.”Said C, with a weird look on his face.

“Hmm, as if you could execute the plan yourself. “Said Roy in a slightly aggravated tone, walking in to the shanty we had selected.

Roy had raved in anger many times about how C handled things, and refused to let him take credit for anything, though C did more than Roy and his battalion. Every time there was a heated argument between C and Roy I’d end up playing rock paper scissors with Vick, Roy’s second in command to who would talk them down.

“Roy, don’t be like that. It only creates animosity between our revolution, and we don’t need C, Greg, or anyone in the specialist unit leaving. They’re the lynch pin for this one.” Said Vick, hoping to calm Roy down.

“Yeah, I hardly trust any of those nut jobs, let alone a certain overconfident joker who goes agro the minute someone suggests a strategy.” Roy yelled at C, who just smiled.

“I can see you’re in a great mood.” Muttered C.

“Yeah, so back to, uh, executing the plan. Roy, I’m going to assume the troops are ready for invasion.”

“Yes, though most are objecting to be used as cannon fodder and barrier breakers.”

“They aren’t, their breaking doors and shooting the bluecoats that go after C while he’s busy destroying the power and goods.”

“So I’m going to assume we are ready to go?”

“Assume makes an ass out of you and me.”

“Alright, let’s go.” I said in a loud voice.”

Chapter 2

Calm Before the Storm

We were all outside the gates of the global conglomerate building. The air was tense. The smog was thick around it, so everyone was coughing. I couldn’t see the sun due to the smog and atmosphere, but it was still well over 70 degrees. The troops were all standing behind me, along with Roy, C, Derrick, and Selma. Derrick and Selma were the other two in the special unit. Derrick could never stand still without fidgeting, looking around like a caged animal for some way out, even when he was outside. Selma was probably the most focused person I’ve ever met. In the few firefights I’ve been in with her she always hits her mark. Derrick, on the other hand, abuses explosives, like magnesium and gas mortars. He’s heavily reliant on rapid fire weapons and electrical things.

“Today we take back what is ours. After this there will be no more Walistan, there will be no more corporate conglomerate. There will just be this planet. No more will we have to work for a government like this, tinkering away for unknown oppressors. We will take it back. Take it all back.” Roy took a few breaths.

“The plan is clear, correct? “I shouted, to get the attention of all the soldiers.

“Yes sir.” Thundered the chorus of soldiers.

I shot the locks of the gate with my rifle. C Grabbed his pistols, making sure they were loaded. Derrick grabbed a mortar and checked the barrel clip on his M-16. Selma smiled and pushed the door open. Things were a go.

Chapter 3

And so it begins

As we walked through the front gates, things went bad. We set off the turrets, not bothering to let Derrick hack it. Everyone hit the dirt, screaming and spraying lead. C dove ahead of everyone and started crawling towards the door. He shot off the two main turrets while Derrick launched mortar shells at the six others by hand. C smashed the door in and strolled in like the arrogant jackass he was, shooting bluecoats while barely paying attention.

What the hell is he doing? I thought, unaware of his true intentions.

“Hey, Greg, what’s C doing? The plan was to let the soldiers lead the vanguard while we took our separate ways.” Asked Derrick, totally confused.

“Whatever C does is what he does. All I care about is stopping this mad regime.” Said Selma.

“Yeah, let’s just go. It’ll be better without him anyway. You know how crazy he gets on a mission. Still have a scar from the first mission I went on with him.” Said Derrick, walking forward.

I walked forward with him and we entered the building and into a massive fire fight. Soldiers were everywhere, destroying bluecoats with high caliber weapons to the head; Roy was screaming and throwing grenades, and I noticed the ventilation shaft had the bolts shot off and the cover was jammed into a computer screen for controlling the turrets. There was only one person who would do it. It was C.

“Roy, get all the troops to a lower floor! Selma, Derrick, follow me! C has gone insane!” I screamed and dove through the door and the down the stairs at the right corner.

Derrick and Selma follow suit while Roy killed off the last few bluecoats and ordered the troops down stairs. I knew what C was doing, it was only a matter of time until he was finished.

“T minus six and counting” Blared the intercom.

C had killed the leaders and activated the fallout sequence. When all the troops made it down we all huddled down and closed our eyes. It was the end of the world as we knew it.

I heard the first missile go of and passed out from the pain in my ears.

Chapter 4

We Fall out (start of extended edition, scrapping school project feel)

As it turns out, the missiles didn’t kill us. We were trapped, sleeping in the building, which had taken no damage due to the lock down stasis and the activation of the fall out status for the master building. And, had we been outside, it would not have mattered. After so many years of environmental abuse, the human race had evolved to be radiation proof. At least, the people who worked. We were exposed to so much radiation, it would’ve killed the planet one hundred years earlier. But, through the poor working conditions and mass exposure of earlier generations, we were virtually radiation proof. In fact, it had become a source to eat away building toxins in our bodies. We had come to need the very thing that should have destroyed us. Oh the irony. (To be continued and for those of you on blogger, tell me if you like this or not.)

I'm Alive.

Title.

So.... what nao?

(All spelling errors like the one in the title are on purpose, just as a joke) It has snowed, and enough to keep me out of school for a four day weekend. Yay! I've been bored lately, messing around with my sketch pad, conveying messages for all to see. This entry is short, only because I have nothing to blog about, except that I'm enjoying rekilling the old man boss in Echoes of Time.

The slender man.

This is the tale of a man. A normal man I would like to say, but sadly, no. This man may look like one, but I assure you, he is not. No, this man may never be seen by some. Consider yourselves lucky. At first he looks like an ordinary man, probably human. But as you get closer, you can notice something. His suit, which looks regal and beautiful from far away, has loads of holes in it and several blood stains. His face, which you could not see from far away, assuming it was the sun in your eyes, has no features. He is tall and slender, and you can faintly see what look like big, black, thin and sinewy tentacles coming from his back.You cannot run from this slender man, as he selected you, and only you to capture. After the capture you will enter the world of night. Oh the terrors, the terrors, simply evil,vile, malicious, are the only thing you will know, with the others, eaten by the slender man. You think you can run? Though this may looks like he is cemented to the spot, cursed eternally to a piece of ground, I assure you, he can run quite fast, using those tentacles to the full extent of reach. The church cannot save you, nothing can, because your trying to run from the one and only slender man.

What's the frequency Blogger?

So...I went to school today. New kid from Texas, home of close mindedness. He's GANGSTA! too. From San Antonio. He thinks math I learned in fourth grade is hard. We played dodge ball in gym today and this kid aims for me everytime, and miss at point blank range. 12 times. XD, right? And when I talk to 'im he says your face in a really snobby way. And, not surprisingly, he's pretty quick to stereotype. And can't finish a sentence without an F-bomb. But this seems an over sized paragraph for this subject. And, uh, grades are due. So, yeah. Good, maybe?

The Epoch's must have, must download.

This a list of music and programs/computer stuff you need to have. Let's start with music.

1.They Might Be Giants, Flood (album).

I went to see this in concert and I almost passed out laughing. And it was great music.They actually drastically changed the songs in concert so they sounded different, making sure you had to have been there.

2. Violent, Femmes Greatest hits (album).

Punk/Folk blend, only better than Gogle Bordello. Because these guys don't need to advertise on morning edition. 80s band, and an ass load of swearing. Buy from Slackers or a sane music store, not Wal-Mart.

3.Pixies, Doolittle (album).

Bread and butter of hard core grunge/punk. Almost metal. IF you like grunge or punk you'll love this.

4.Nirvana,(any album).

Great grunge band, more of punk if you ask me. Grab anything.

The albums are not exclusive, so get any album by these bands. Or Modest Mouse or REM.

The software/ games list will come later.

Here I am, at one a.m., downloading roms.

This is an update of what I'm doing. I got Bahamut Lagoon and Live A Live, both for SNES, one of which never hit the U.S. . If the companies don't want it to be bought in the U.S., fine, I can ROM just as well. Suck it, Famicom. And I went to see Avatar. The sentence sum up: Humans come to planet. TREE IS ANGRY! Humans get ded. Hot Damn, what a plotline. And I've been trapped in my house for the last few hour due to the bitter cold. It sucks.