It is no longer necessary to tie yourself to a tree wearing a ghillie suit to be a professional sniper. Nor do you need to search out book depositories, grassy knolls, or water towers. You need not carry heavy firearms either – no more carefully swabbing barrels or weighing ammunition. You can shoot ’em dead from the comfort of your computer room.
We’re not talking about computer games as such – none of that video business like with an arcade game. This is actual assassination carried out on actual people. And the good thing is you won’t be punished for it, even if you are found culpable. You see, you shoot ’em in their reputation, not their rib cage.
The best practitioners of this skill have specific targets to deal with. Ex-husbands and ex-wives are the primary targets …as well as the primary shooters. They have either a long-standing grudge and animosity or a short-term goal in view; blackening the character of their former partner.
It can be done blatantly, with names, addresses, dates, and high-res pictures…but that does risk the lawyers battening upon it as defamation. More often it is done with memes, hints, and innuendo. As long as the sniper can hint to the observers know who the target is they count on formerly-mutual friends to convey the messages back. The disconnects that exist on the social media may prevent the target from seeing the shots as they come and go, but someone can always send a screen copy to do the same thing.
The unfortunate part of this is the collateral damage – the people on social media who have to see the written fire fight and pretend to ignore it. Or are lured to pour sympathy or scorn on one or other of the parties. In most cases people have enough traumas in their own lives without having to watch an artillery duel on their computer.
The Facebook Hoax No. 135 has just surfaced again. You know, the one that tells you that you need to copy and paste something that looks like a legal document to prevent Facebook doing something. In this case it has been rigged to make you afraid that all your postings from the past -including pictures – will become the property of Facebook and that they can sell them off with no mercy.
Don’t be sad if you fell for it…people do fall for these sorts of thing. They come so close to our fears of either missing out or being targeted for lawsuit that we instinctively panic. The hoax – and hoax it is – then circulates further when the frightened individual cuts, pastes, posts, or does whatever other ritual the thing suggests. It is a good thing that the hoaxes do not involve hot soldering irons and ears or the emergency rooms would be full in a day.
Mind you, Weller would probably approve…and that’s where the BGA steps in. Note: the BGA frequently steps in it.
What we propose is that the maker of any product enter into a contract with us. ( pentacle, candles, dagger, etc. ) to promote their product. Whatever it is we analyse it and devise a way to tie it into the primitive portion of the reader’s brain. Then we craft a suitable meme or notice and start it out with our team of influenzers*. They insert it into their Facebook pages and direct it to the most gullible of their friends. From there it is transmitted for free throughout the world, frightening people into buying and using the selected product.
It is not so much an advertising campaign as a form of social media terror. People will go faster if driven than lured and the faster they will go to the store with their wallet open, the better for the client. And remember that the BGA is ethical in this – we do not take a cut of the profits. Our fees are substantial, but one-time. In this we hold a higher moral position than the mafia.
* So named because we spread internet hoaxes like a debilitating virus. You’re soaking in one now.
But I won’t realise I’m doing it.
Just follow my posts on Facebook that ” share ” other messages. I will post them thinking I am telling you a great deal about the state of the world. In reality I’ll be telling you a great deal about the state of me.
I may not actually be a great deal…or even in a great state. But I will have provided either enticement or warning by re-posting whatever has come lately to my attention. You can agree with me, in which case you enter into the Blessed Lands Of Joy…or you can disagree with me, in which case I get to damn and blast you. To be honest, I prefer the latter to the former as it gives me more opportunity to vent my spleen. You can build up a lot of pressure in a spleen these days and any opportunity to release it is welcome.
Of course, things may change. I may become happier. I might find love, or at least sex. I might find $ 20 in an old coat pocket. I might lose 10 kilos and fit into my jeans. In the event of any of these, I will start to share happier memes and I expect you to like them just as much as you did the nasty ones.
Otherwise there will be trouble. I many not know where you live, but I do know where you socially post.
No, Dear, you’re not. Not any more. Not for a long time. Not since you found Facebook.
I fully admit that I did think of you as a sex object – and treasured the sight, sound, and smell of you upon that basis. I longed to add feel to the list… but that was before I was presented with your posts on the electronic screen – in between the phishing memes and the advertisements for perfumed stump pullers. Once I could contemplate your thoughts and explore the workings of your mind, I changed my regard for you.
Now I do not look upon you you as a sex object. I regard you as a floating object.
You float between whichever political pressure group has most traction at the time. Between who has grabbed the national television coverage for the last five minutes and who will grab it for the next. Your thoughts are precious – as much for their virtue as for their rarity. And I long for the day when you will feel successful and triumphant – and will feel no more need to complain.
Like nirvana, armageddon, or the end of the works on the Mitchell Freeway, I never really expect to see this state of affairs blossom. But I need something to pray for.
As a child in Canada I got used to the houses we lived in having a clothes drier. Not all of them did, but you could see why it was a pretty essential part of life if you didn’t have a basement with a furnace in it – you can’t hang wet laundry out on a Hills Hoist at -4º.
I loved the driers that were in the kitchens because I could play in there and get blasted by the warm air coming through the system. As the rest of the house might be heated by a furnace that sucked all the moisture out of the air, the laundry vapour was actually soothing.
These days we use the house clothes drier to supplement what can mostly be done on the line out back. Western Australia has more good drying days than not and I always figure I’m getting good value for no money by taking advantage of them. I wish I could say the same for that other staple of modern life: Facebook.
I appreciate the fact that sometimes people need to vent on Facebook. You open the page and there is a full rant about someone’s emotional grievances – whether you read it or not, at least the posting of it might have done them some good. But it gets a bit fraught when people are doing personal laundry 24/7 and running the loads through every day. You can only take so much warm, wet air with vague odours before you become tired of it. Then you find yourself switching off or switching over. You start granting the laundry worker repeated 30-day vacations. And sometimes you just stop taking the service.
After all, you have your own wrinkles to iron out without having to scrub someone else’s life as well.
The Guild is feeling like Spring! And we’re feeling like it early!
Okay, we normally spring on the unwary, but this is different. The Backstabbers Guild of Australia has been doing some Spring Cleaning ( even though it is winter in Australia) and we realised that we have an excess – a surplus, if you will – actually gobs of, heaps of, information about people. We propose to make this available to anyone who wants to target a group of suckers.
The information has come to us through our affiliation with Facebook. We have been sending out a series of physhing posts disguised as quizzes and harmless games and the response has been gratifying. People will tell you the most intimate details of their lives as long as they think you will reward them with praise. Or even interest.
We’ve got three divisions of goods for sale; political biases, sexual proclivities, and financial gullibility. You can purchase profiles of Australian citizens who would normally shrink with shame or at least bristle up defensively. And you can be sure that the sensitive data is 101% authentic – the poor boobs have advertised it themselves. No more paying for market surveys or private snoopers. These marks have marked themselves.
And they’ve done so under the sternest warnings from the police, the federal government, and the Guild itself. They just cannot help themselves – like bogans when a doughnut shop opens. Or lemmings when a cliff looms. Over they go.
The price for information on the public can be very economical. A few cents apiece if you buy in bulk. You may not be able to get into their bank accounts with the results of a ” Which flower are you? ” meme but you’ll know that they are susceptible to fatuous enquiry and with a little careful stalking you’ll eventually be able to ask ” Which account has the most money in it? ” and it won’t seem intrusive.
Trust us with this…
Meme purveyors to the internet. No subject sacred – no jibe too mean. Try us for all the things you’re too slow to think up in person.
Here at Cheapshot & Co, we monitor the social media traffic hour by hour. Whenever an opportunity to mock a country’s political leader or head of state presents itself you can dial our exclusive private service and we will sell you your opinion wrapped in sarcasm or irony. We are totally non-political and non-partisan – we’ll agree to jazz up and jiz up any mean thoughts you may have.
If you are incapable of thought, subscribe to our premium service and let us make you kewl, kutting-edge, and klever. The KKK package would suit you admirably.
Note: With every discount troll package we include a free mockery of Donald Trump. If you’re European and not currently on a ventilator you qualify for the Sawdust Sausage Discount.
Don’t delay. Note: After November we may be offering a Laugh At Biden doorbuster sale. Check back then.
Since I started promoting the Karen And Sharon Institute of Opinion my readership numbers are climbing.
720 prospective new clients every day. Mind you, remember the word ” prospective “. Not all of them will ultimately subscribe to internet social platforms, let alone my own. I must accept some failure rate with sombre resignation.
Still, with a new client every minute – as Mr. Barnum wisely said – I can be sure that whenever I wish to make the local population eat soap, refuse medicine, or break statues I have only to blare it out on Facebook. If necessary I can edit the responses of the readers so that my own point of view is paramount, or I can let their posts stand to mock them later. It is a matter of having the time available and/or dealing with a case of indigestion.
I pays to be careful what soap you swallow…
I don’t actually, but don’t let me stop you.
Go for it. You do whatever you feel is right, or virtuous, or kewl. I won’t say you nay, or yay for that matter…because what I say doesn’t matter. You might be in a different situation – perhaps you are an American voter or an influential journalist or the Leader of the House of Representatives. If so, I will stand back and let you make your own mistakes. I meant decisions…did I say mistakes? I meant decisions.
For the rest of the world, it might be a more honest response to ignore the orchestrated hate exhibited for Mr. Trump and concentrate upon our own actions, nations, and leaders. We have far more power to raise or lower our guard, standards, or local political careers than we do those of Washington, Moscow, or Peking. That we do not says more about us than all our memes and protestations on Facebook say about the targets of our bile.
Look, take a break. Detest someone else for a while and give your Organ Of Hate a rest. Excoriate some African or South American robber-dictator. There are more than enough of them to give you a Miss Maud’s choice. You can do a hate du jour if you wish, complaining about a different regime each day for a month. You’ll end up sounding ever so much more cosmopolitan and kewl than just banging away on Donald. And you may make undying friendships amongst the migrants.
Or undying enemies. Your choice.
It’s the new password for social media posting. You make sure that your jeering reference to Donald Trump or Scott Morrison contains the word ” ikewl2 ” and your Facebook or Twitter friends know that you’re cutting edge sophisticated and on-trend.
The need to be accepted is always with us – from the kindergarten class to the nursing home, we want to be part of the group – and if possible one of the cool kids in the lunchroom. We want people to want to sit with us, as much for the opportunity to see as to be seen. Unfortunately, too often we fail in this. Lunchrooms are big places and there can only be one cool table.
Now the internet has provided us with more space – and more tables. We can be the autocrats of whatever special-interest group we care to create. Forums exist for every possible subject., and the nature of these is such that one can be as critical and nasty as one likes with no fear of being ousted…as long as one is critical of someone else outside the group. It is precisely an electronic version of the cool table.
I sit on one, by virtue of a stock of photographs that I can trail through the Facebook page with funny captions. In another I am the head of the Backstabbers Guild Of Australia and encourage appalling behaviour. But I still need the key to general social acceptance in the room – hence ” ikewl2 “.
It s a universal magic word – please feel free to use it yourself when you wish to oyster-knife a conversation. No need for facts or sensible behaviour. Just share some hacker’s meme, append ” ikewl2 ” and sit right down at the table.
You’ll be amazed at what’s for lunch…