Troll tax ahoy! Troll tax on the information highway.

Troll tax ahoy! Troll tax on the information highway.

I’m hoping the government introduces a troll tax on the information highway.

Dude, the troll industry is in danger,' said Subbu. 'We need to revive it.'

'The toll industry?' I asked.

'Troll,' said Subbu. 'With an r, like rip up, rage etc. It's way bigger than the toll business. Trolls now impact governments, laws, judgments, history, culture, literature etc. They're the next big thing. Everyone is ##$$ scared of them. Literally.'

'So what's the problem?' I asked.

'There's no opposition,' said Subbu. 'No one knows how to handle trolls. Whenever the wimpy, sensitive poet, writer types open their mouths, trolls are all over them like a rash. A whiny 'society-is-crumbling' line from the wimpy gang begets the classic troll response '##$$ you and your family'. Unable to handle such honest, aggressive brand of literature, wimpy thinkers and artists have retreated into early retirement. There is a huge silence. If we don't revive them, this wonderful startup industry will die.'


'Because trolls need opposition yaar,' said Subbu. 'Otherwise who will they troll? In a vibrant democracy everyone should voice their opinion and get trolled - like real men. If wimps indulge in namby-pamby silent, non-cooperation, anti-national stuff, our nation will look bad won't it? To start a healthy debate, we need to urgently rehabilitate the wimpy gang in refugee camps...I mean, rehab camps.'

'How will you do that?' I asked.

'First, we have to help the wimps get over the fear that some random chaps want to ##$$ them and their families,' said Subbu. 'We'll explain to them that trolls are like the Australian cricket team – sledgers. They play hard, abuse us and our families but it's nothing personal. Once wimps understand that trolls mean no harm, they start murmuring and grumbling again.'

'You think so?' I asked.

'Yes,' said Subbu. 'Next we acquaint the wimps with the sensitive, troubled soul of a troll. Trolls say stuff, but they don't mean them. They're underground artists venting about a wimpy world. It's just that trolls prefer talking about real action like sex, violence and not abstract stuff like love, peace, inclusion. When viewed from that perspective, wimps realise that it's not abuse that trolls are piling on them, but raw poetry. They understand that when trolls say they will ##$$ them, it is just an award-winning expression.'

'Are there awards for trolls too?' I asked.

'Why not?' said Subbu. 'All art needs to be recognized. Top trolls deserve awards and positions too - previously monopolised by wimps – in literature, poetry, lyrics, film. Anyway, in our final course, we train the wimps, strengthen their spine, and teach them to troll back.'

'Wow! How? I asked.

'Simple,' said Subbu. 'Since wimps are rule bound, we teach them to break rules. We teach them the new language - bad language –to express themselves without guilt, grammar or ownership. We issue these repressed souls a license to be irresponsible. In time they transform into honest, straight talking trolls who talk from their gut instead of mumbling, sulking and beating around the bush. The result –a no holds barred troll war that's a great diversion…I mean …great for the nation and the economy.'

'You're sure there's a market for this course?' I asked.

'Dude, this is the future,' said Subbu. 'Look around - most leaders and heads of institutions are trolls. Wimps are dead – one way or another. Every ##$$ will line up for our course. Survival of the fittest.'

'Where'll you get money to run your camps?' I asked.

'It's in national interest,' said Subbu. 'I'm hoping the government introduces a troll tax on the information highway.'

'Like @#$% they should,' I said.

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