Help

[catherine]

My dear fellow forumers,

I'm posting this here albeit the wrong place, but I intend to seek opinion
on Mr Daniel Harmisson who is frequently posting the strangest things
in the "Poetry by the forum members"- thread. He is writing pages over pages on Leonard and then on whoever comments to that. Have any of you
visited there lately and, if so, can you tell me what you think he's supposed to be? For the idea doesn't leave me that this Daniel Harmisson
is a machine OR SOME CLEVERLY CONSTRUCTED COMPUTER PROGRAMME.


Catherine

[tom.d.stiller]

My dear fellow forumers,

I'm posting this here albeit the wrong place, but I intend to seek opinion
on Mr Daniel Harmisson who is frequently posting the strangest things
in the "Poetry by the forum members"- thread. He is writing pages over pages on Leonard and then on whoever comments to that. Have any of you
visited there lately and, if so, can you tell me what you think he's supposed to be? For the idea doesn't leave me that this Daniel Harmisson
is a machine OR SOME CLEVERLY CONSTRUCTED COMPUTER PROGRAMME.


Catherine

Hi Catherine,

I believe that he's an emanation of one of the MPD's minds. Some people seem to think it quite funny to do destructive things like that: posting under different names, battling with themselves, irritating those who seriously try to post consistently, undermining the belief in other posters' integrity.

But this, of course, is just my opinion. Others may have a different outlook on things. I only know that some already find the Poetry Section haunted by ghastly spirits too much, and are as good as decided not to go there anymore. I'd consider this very regrettable.

The only solution presently seems not to feed the trolls, and to ignore them.

Cheers
tom

[catherine]

MPD?

[tom.d.stiller]

MPD?

MPD = multiple personality disease

[lizzytysh]

MPD = Multiple Personality Disorder, but I think it's even been remained to Dissociative Personality Disorder, but not sure if that's the correct term, either.

Catherine ~ I quit reading his posts after the first couple. I can see why you'd suspect it to be electronically generated. So much waste of space. I've been amazed that people have continued to respond.

~ Lizzy

[tom.d.stiller]

MPD = Multiple Personality Disorder

You're right, Elizabeth. Normally it's "disorder". But in this case it seems to be a disease, and an infectious one to boot...

Cheers
tom

[ceetoo]

Catherine the great...

It appears that the painterly pertherly freuderly harmissonily timewasterly critic has mistaken you for me. For that I offer my apology although I certainly could not have anticipated such an effect that my cut and pasted blah blahs would have brought.

[lizzytysh]

Ahhh, okay, Tom. You're right . Should've known you knew .

~ Elizabeth

[tomsakic]

I never go to Poetry By The Members section... as many other forumers as I heard... Just let it go...

[Tchocolatl]

The answer that comes to me when I see people entangled (and I were entangled in "my times") in these games, is "Could people can just STOP feeding the troll?"

Or if trolls are necessary to bring oxygen in a too well organized, therefor suffocating wold?

I'm not wise enough to answer this myself.

Only I see that they always bring movement with them : people that want to control everything begin to be more and more on the control, people who are often confused by others behavior are more and more confused, or both those "types" are findind new way to solve what is annoying them. Creative poeple are showing more creativity etc. etc. etc.

As for me, I just don't read it 'cause I really find them boring to death, as for all the other games the ego is playing, including "winning".

[Paula]

The Billy Goats Gruff
Once upon a time there were three billy goats called Gruff. In the winter they lived in a barn in the valleyspring came they , but when the longed to travel up to the mountains to eat the lush sweet grass.
On their way to the mountains the three Billy Goats Gruff had to cross a rushing river. But there was only one bridge across it, made of wooden planks. And underneath the bridge there lived a terrible, ugly, one-eyed troll.

Nobody was allowed to cross the bridge without the troll’s permission - and nobody ever got permission. He always ate them up.

The smallest Billy Goat Gruff was first to reach the bridge. Trippity-trop, trippity-trop went his little hooves as he trotted over the wooden planks. Ting-tang, ting-tang went the little bell round his neck.

"Who’s that trotting over my bridge?" growled the troll from under the planks.

"Billy Goat Gruff," squeaked the smallest goat in his little voice. "I’m only going up to the mountain to eat the sweet spring grass."

"Oh no, you’re not!" said the troll. "I’m going to eat you for breakfast!"

"Oh no, please Mr Troll," pleaded the goat. "I’m only the smallest Billy Goat Gruff. I’m much too tiny for you to eat, and I wouldn’t taste very good. Why don’t you wait for my brother, the second Billy Goat Gruff? He’s much bigger than me and would be much more tasty."

The troll did not want to waste his time on a little goat if there was a bigger and better one to eat. "All right, you can cross my bridge," he grunted. "Go and get fatter on the mountain and I’ll eat you on your way back!"

So the smallest Billy Goat Gruff skipped across to the other side.

The troll did not have to wait long for the second Billy Goat Gruff. Clip-clop, clip-clop went his hooves as he clattered over the wooden planks. Ding-dong, ding-dong went the bell around his neck.

"Who’s that clattering across my bridge?" screamed the troll, suddenly appearing from under the planks.

"Billy Goat Gruff," said the second goat in his middle-sized voice. "I’m going up to the mountain to eat the lovely spring grass."

"Oh no you’re not!" said the troll. "I’m going to eat you for breakfast."

"Oh, no, please," said the second goat. "I may be bigger than the first Billy Goat Gruff, but I’m much smaller than my brother, the third Billy Goat Gruff. Why don’t you wait for him? He would be much more of a meal than me."

The troll was getting very hungry, but he did not want to waste his appetite on a middle-sized goat if there was an even bigger one to come. "All right, you can cross my bridge," he rumbled. "Go and get fatter on the mountain and I’ll eat you on your way back!"

So the middle-sized Billy Goat Gruff scampered across to the other side.

The troll did not have to wait long for the third Billy Goat Gruff. Tromp-tramp, tromp-tramp went his hooves as he stomped across the wooden planks. Bong-bang, bong-bang went the big bell round his neck.

"Who’s that stomping over my bridge?" roared the troll, resting his chin on his hands.

"Billy Goat Gruff," said the third goat in a deep voice. "I’m going up to the mountain to eat the lush spring grass."

"Oh no you’re not," said the troll as he clambered up on to the bridge. "I’m going to eat you for breakfast!"

"That’s what you think," said the biggest Billy Goat Gruff. Then he lowered his horns, galloped along the bridge and butted the ugly troll. Up, up, up went the troll into the air... then down, down, down into the rushing river below. He disappeared below the swirling waters, and was drowned.

"So much for his breakfast," thought the biggest Billy Goat Gruff. "Now what about mine!" And he walked in triumph over the bridge to join his two brothers on the mountain pastures. From then on anyone could cross the bridge whenever they liked - thanks to the three Billy Goats Gruff.


And the moral of the story is........ (I don't really know) but don't feed the trolls

[lizzytysh]

~ Loved your last line, Paula .

[Tchocolatl]

Or maybe, feed them until they get so fat and sick.

Or maybe, feed them, feed them, they would feel sleepy and go have a rest, and give the rest of us a rest.

Or feed them just enough not to make them fat and sick.

Hum... Difficult to say...

[catherine]

I get your point.