ACT 1: SCENE III. A Starbucks near Brooklyn.
Sound of a modem connecting. Enter three Moderators.
Where hast thou been, sister?
Sister, where thou?
A right-wing nut had posts from NRO,
And spamm’d, and spamm’d, and spamm’d:—
‘Stop it,’ quoth I:
‘Amendment, First!’ the astroturfer cries.
His IP’s to McClatchy gone, with three diff’rent screen names:
But with my Mac I’ll thither wend,
And, faster than the troll can send,
I’ll ban, I’ll ban, and I’ll ban.
I’ll give thee Chai.
And I another.
I shall nail the mother-lover.
I can recognize his style,
Though false IPNs beguile,
Seeing him’s not hard.
His sockpuppets shall be washed;
Snarky postings shall be squashed
Though response from him be loony:
Threaten me with a cartooney.
Weary night-time posting’s lame;
He’ll attempt then me to flame:
Though his bark’s worse than his bite,
I’ll not put up with his shite.
Look what I have.
Show me, show me.
Here I have a netkook’s vowels,
Pluck’d from out his latest howls.
Windows chime within
A post, a post!
Macbeth is toast.
The weird sysops, we command,
Posters of the sea and land,
Thus do go about, about:
Filter snot, and filter bot,
Filter ads for chicks who’re hot.
Peace! the board’s caught up.
See also: Time Notices Comments July 25, 2008 Time magazine has noticed that comment threads exist.