This site gets a larger than fair share of dissenting comments. I admit I seek them out, on occasion, but were it not for the reliably acid-tongued retorts from dear friends, you’d be wading through inspirational hell, and who wants to read that? Snide repartée is infinitely more entertaining than constructive commentary, especially when destructive commentary is called for. This blog — and MemeFirst — came about primarily to replace barroom banter with those friends no longer living within drunk driving distance. One thing we learned, early on, is that all-round general agreement is the enemy of good conversation.

And yet, the uninitiated tend to think these foils represent personal fallings-out; my parents send me worried emails every time Felix and I engage in a snit. It is true that banter is an acquired taste; and it takes a while to learn. The beginning banterer must avoid turning into a cured Leonard Zelig, lest he end up in fisticuffs with psychiatrists over the weather. Some cultures seem predisposed towards banter. It helps, for example, if you are British, or have been in close quarters with them over prolonged periods of time. As for Swedes, on the other hand, getting a mean word out of them requires resorting to the threat of physical violence.

Or so we now know. The Swedish blogosphere used to be a suppportive, back-patting exercise, where you spoke well of a post or not at all. This civil state of affairs was thrown into disarray a month ago when Azzman, at Wookiepunch, started being rude about Swedish bloggers. He called the Swedish blogosphere a bunch of muppets [Swedish]. He thought some bloggers’ posts were utter crap. For good measure, he suggested the muppets be put out of their misery and shotThe problem with wookiepunches — and Harrison Ford must know this from the way in which his gun proved useful in a duel with a sword-wielding baddie in Raiders of the Lost Ark — is that they are no match for lightsabers. An armless wookie is a sorry sight indeed. And unable to scratch itself. And probably smells even worse than usual..

The response, at first, was to decry this ghastly glorification of violence. “I’ve seen too many people die,” one blogger replied earnestly. But Azzman would not be deterred, so it was decided to ignore him: “You do not exist. You are an illusion.” The problem with that tactic was that Azzman’s self-ascribed aim — to become as unpopular as possible — was backfiring gloriously; everybody kept right on reading him for the next much anticipated put-down.

Now a month later, the shock has worn off, Azzman has been incorporated into the mainstream, but, if I may say so, there are fewer “cheese sandwich for lunch” posts in Swedish, wearing bulls’ eyes. Snark has arrived in Sweden, and Sweden is a better place for it.

Meanwhile, over in New York, mother Eurotrash is leading her ugly ducklings down ever-longer comment strings packed with snideness and wit. She seems to have blasted her way through the hundred-mark per post, and she coaches her charges well, though with varying degrees of success. Today, for example, between comments #50 and #150, we get Tourette’s Symphony in F—-Major. Commenting as outsider art. Who’d have thought?

So what is the point of this post? Simply this: In the great Tomatina war that is blogging, nobody should expect to emerge with their pride intact. The sooner everybody realizes this, the better, for humbled bloggers make for better bloggers. Or at least more shameless ones, which is the same thing in my book.