“Trolls” by Mort Laitner
It arrived on October 8th, 2016. I’m not sure if it was on Twitter or Facebook or in an email. The note implored me to stop writing about “He-Whose-Name-Shall-Never-Be-Spoken.”
Dear Mort,
Please stop writing about the election. I am super saturated with this presidential campaign and cannot take it any longer. Even though your stories are cutting and witty, my brain cannot handle another word. We all know that Hillary has it all wrapped up!
Signed,
A fan begging you to stop.
I read the note twice; it had had its desired effect. I would take a break from writing about the man. I was also a bit super saturated. I needed a sojourn.
On November 10th, I decided to take another look at the note. My eyes glazed over the email address of this supposed fan. When I realized his email came from RUSSIA.
I had been trolled. Not by those cute, colorful long-haired dolls but by the nefarious Russian masterminds. They hacked into the server hidden beneath my skull. I was one easy son-of-a-gun to manipulate.
I had seen these Russian hackers on 60 Minutes. They laughed at Americans. “Do you how easy it is to use social media to take advantage of Democrats,”
I thought they were joking.
Why wasn’t the FBI protecting the integrity of the net?—especially my content? What could be more important than protecting Americans from Russians trying to influence and destroy our democracy.
Thousands of these hackers sat in their Moscow apartments dressed in pajamas and trolled the internet in an attempt to send out misinformation about our election.
These hackers must have read by biting tale about those infamous KBG agents Boris and Natasha trying to destroy our election. They must have used their cunning brains to send out emails to all kinds of writers who were attacking their man— under orders from Putin himself.
With their trail of manipulative emails, they convinced the talking heads, the pollsters and even Hillary’s staff that she had it all wrapped up.
So Hillary made fewer campaign stops. Stopped her negativity rants. Became so positive it hurt. She acted as if she had it in the bag and refused to scare the B’jesus out of the electorate.
On November 8, Boris and Natasha had won.
On November 10th, I put on my best Scottish, James Bond accent and raised my clenched fist in the air, “Well played Mr. Russian Troll but four years from now I will not fall for your deplorable tricks.”
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