The Internet As Habitat

Suck
Suck

NARCISSOIDS

they drink your whine
surreptitious
needy
arseholes
faking
sliming
controlling
squeezing
spitting pips
you’re all sucked up
weighed by vacuum
balance of power
on their side
found wanting
your surfeit of trust
shallowed you
bathed you
trophied you
away they slither
remorseless
remoras
all bravado
and bag of tricks

February 2015

FACEBOOK IS DOWN

Oh noeeees, millions of peeps collectively frown,
what will they do while Facebook is down!
No cute cats or kids or political scrums
how empty the lives of deprived Facebook bums!
Was it those cunning lizards sent by Icke
To confound us all with reptilian tricks?
Or chemtrails seeping slyly into the server
To poison us with conspiratorial fervour,
Bah, ’twas just a blip, a crack in the stack
Sneer and cheer, tweeps, for Facebook is back!

February 2015

HORIZONTAL IS GOOD

Who can breathe?
the poseurs squeeze hard
blame others’egos
project personal ambition
their insecurities
dreams of conquest
multitasking
insights
dreary phds
publications
publishers
glorious leftist careers
push competition aside
top down squash and mash
the revolution as steamroller
party over people
principles for bullying
because some dead man said so
who’d vote for these freaks
who call one ‘liberal’
at whisper of dissent?
vicariously policing
what’s left of the left
they don’t see the wank in their own eyes
who can breathe beneath such fuckery
full communism?
full of themselves
not my communism
who in their left mind would want it?
who can breathe?

February 2015

Diva Parachuting

parasites feast on underbelly
of fevered daily news cycle
self-dissections in smelly
articles whiny and spiteful
try hard toffs from dullard spires
slink to fourth and fifth estates
scribbling vanity in slimy mire
farming twitter with their mates
waspish handmaids of plutolatry
shrouded by capitalist carapace
bear bitter fruit from tortured tree
white stockings hold the winning ace
paratexting regurgitated paratext
pile-on, pile-on, bullies, who’s next

Jinjirrie, May 2013

Chill Out Culture

The All Purpose Guide on How to Handle Criticism™ has been developed for when you’ve written very silly/racist/bigoted/mean things on social media and someone has the outrageous temerity to query you on them.

1.0 Scream “You gatekeepers!” and metaphorically roll eyes at sycophants.
1.5 Important update to improve book sales of defended icon: “You OBVIOUSLY haven’t read the book!”

2.0 Complain bitterly about being censored and silenced.
2.1 Whine piteously about how the critic is being “divisive”.
2.2 Quick security fix: “You’re singling out [Insert object of emotive bias] for criticism!”
2.3 Special multi-purpose combined update – “You have no sense of humor!” “it’s just a joke!!” “It’s only words on a screen.” “Get off your computer and do something important!”

3.0 Wail about “bullying” and launch into a satisfying tirade of ad hominem. They started it.

4.0 Moan about “call out culture” and call the patronising sods out back in a never-ending loop where “discourse” disappears up its own meta-orifice.

Coming soon …

5.0 …… Intellectual honesty?

This program is evolving open source software with a Creative Commons licence, so feel free to develop your own version – if you forget to credit the above version history, expect an interloper, who will test you on your proficiency with the program.

Callout Culture

Hi ho the diddlio
A-trolling I shall go,
First thing in the morning,
while i’m still a-yawning,
sizzling up some tender meat
racist ranters smell so sweet.

Oh white saviour –
the burden of empire
faithfully carried
on the backs of the willing,
Oh white saviour –
with rightness of whiteness
imperial bait and switch
rules still over the outflung colonies
with their vanguard ingrates.

Jinjirrie, December 2013.

Related Links

B-grade politics and reaction
CastleVainia: On a divisive consensus in favour of hating identity politics

If You Don’t Laugh, You’d Have to Cry – Let Me Off This Doomed Planet

NB, NSA, please read my poetry.

Bureaucratic Blues

I smell the fear on your vinyl briefcase
as across the table like Captain Cook
you pity the poor natives.
Your backdoor agenda and verbal pyrotechnology’s
a front for the urgency to move onto lunch,
the bottom line, where you will be free
of the irritation of our disagreement.

Snake on a ladder, you have all the answers
before the questions are put, and if I resist
and say ‘what about this?’ I’ll be hived off.
You want your lunch and I have a hunch
you’ll have your way no matter what I say,
top down, bottoms up.

I’m not here for a handout, just some of our taxes back.
You have your priorities sent down the line
(I’ll scratch your back if you stab mine),
keeping the upper hand for the mortgage’s sake,
your PS perks and old boy lurks building
a superstructure of barbies and kids on Sunday
with the Director and the man on the next rung,
top down, bottoms up,
drinking and laughing about idealists
who’d like to step over your head.

I wonder if you hear us at all,
while unseen in the community
quiet synergy turns the wheels eventually,
bottoms up.

Jinjirrie 1993