Island Guardian

Netaganda, Little Red Riding Hood, And the Comedian in the Basement

"Living is easy with your eyes closed," said the Beatles in Strawberry Fields Forever.

The Beatles are great. The Beatles are wise. I abase myself at their feet. But frankly, sometimes, it is safer to listen to Sam The Sham and the Pharaohs, who sang about the parable of Little Red Riding Hood. Remember the ending of the original tale?

The wolf, seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the bedclothes, "Put the cake and the little pot of butter upon the stool, and come get into bed with me."

Little Red Riding Hood took off her clothes and got into bed. She was greatly amazed to see how her grandmother looked in her nightclothes, and said to her, "Grandmother, what big arms you have!"

"All the better to hug you with, my dear."
"Grandmother, what big legs you have!"
"All the better to run with, my child."
"Grandmother, what big ears you have!"
"All the better to hear with, my child."
"Grandmother, what big eyes you have!"
"All the better to see with, my child."
"Grandmother, what big teeth you have got!"
"All the better to eat you up with."

And, saying these words, this wicked wolf fell upon Little Red Riding Hood, and ate her all up.

The wolf is waiting out there, for all of us. Trying to get in. Of course, the wolf is easy to avoid, if only you know you're looking at a wolf.

"I'm gonna keep my sheep suit on,
Until I'm sure that you've been shown,
I can be trusted, walking alone with you,"

sang Sam The Sham. So the key is to figure out who the wolves are, even when they're wearing sheep suits.

Which brings me to the topic for the column: what I call "netaganda" – internet propaganda, which masquerade as letters or stories so friendly or funny or superficially warm and fuzzy or concerning that friends forward them to you. And then you forward them on to other friends. But these netaganda stories have a darker purpose: they are wolves in sheep suits. They are out to con you, to fool you, to lie to you, to twist your thinking so that you change the way you act – or believe – for reasons based on a false premise or false facts.

Netaganda is a potent weapon that can be used with equal power for either economic or political purposes. For example, it is, I believe, wielded by the Republican Party as a very effective way of influencing public opinion under the false guise of humor. (The Democrats aren't any more innocent; they just haven't figured this one out yet.) But it isn't just political netaganda that one sees. There are also many varieties of economic netaganda.

Netaganda has a lot in common with The Definition Game (the subject of my last column). In both examples, you are asked to believe a lie. But with Netganda, the lie is sugar coated – the lie is put into a context that is amusing, sweet, or in some other context appealing to our feel-good impulses, so that we tend not to notice the lies built into it.

Here is an example of political netaganda, in an e-mail I received this past winter.

Subject: Difference in Democrats, Republicans and Southerners

How do you tell the difference between Democrats, Republicans and Southerners? Pose the following question:

You're walking down a deserted street with your wife and two small children. Suddenly, a dangerous looking man with a huge knife comes around the corner, locks eyes with you, screams obscenities, raises the knife, and charges.

You are carrying a Glock .40, and you are an expert shot. You have mere seconds before he reaches you and your family.

What do you do?

Democrats Answer:

Well, that's not enough information to answer the question! Does the man look poor or oppressed? Have I ever done anything to him that would inspire him to attack? Could we run away? What does my wife think? What about the kids? Could I possibly swing the gun like a club and knock the knife out of his hand? What does the law say about this situation?

Does the Glock have an appropriate safety built into it? Why am I carrying a loaded gun anyway, and what kind of message does this send to society and to my children?

Is it possible he'd be happy with just killing me? Does he definitely want to kill me, or would he be content just to wound me? If I were to grab his knees and hold on, could my family get away while he was stabbing me? Should I call 9-1-1? Why is this street so deserted? We need to raise taxes, have a paint and weed day and make this a happier, healthier street that would discourage such behavior. This is all so confusing! I need to debate this with some friends for a few days and try to come to a consensus.

Republican Answer: BANG!

Southerner's Answer: BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, click. (Sounds of reloading.)

Wife:: "Sweetheart, he looks like he's still moving, what do You kids think?"

Son: "Mom's right Dad, I saw it, too."

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG,BANG,BANG,BANG, click.

Daughter: "Nice group, Daddy! Were those the Winchester Silver Tips?"

So you receive this netaganda e-mail – or any netaganda e-mail, for that matter. What do you do? Of course, it wildly misrepresents what a Democrat would do when confronted with a man with a knife: most of us, regardless of political party, would blow the attacker away. And it also misrepresents the Democratic positions on a slew of different issues, all with a mind to making Democrats look like weenies, Republicans like the right kind of folks, and Southern Republicans as those with the right stuff.

The e-mail is full of lies, but the e-mail isn't about the truth; it is about trying to establish and perpetuate a false stereotype so that you'll tend to vote Republican next time around. Most people are amused and forward it to their friends. Those who recognize they are being conned mostly just delete it and move on with their life. A few sit at their computer and stew. That's my type.

So here is what I did then, and what I also propose to you – not just for political netaganda, but for any type: fight back. But there's a problem – fight back as though you've taken it seriously, and your friends will conclude you can't take a joke. It is a sort of Catch 22, which is the evil beauty of netaganda – don't respond, and the senders win. Respond and look like a humorless jerk, and the senders still win. So the best answer is to fight back, but with humor.

Here was my response to the person who sent that e-mail to me (a very good friend with a twinkle in his eye who happens sadly to be very misguided in his political beliefs, just as he thinks I am sadly misguided in mine):

"Wrong!" I said, as to the Democrat's Response: And then I sent out the real Democrats response, and the real Republican response, as follows:

The Real Democrat's Response.

"Stop or I'll shoot!"

[If he doesn't stop]: Bang! Bang! Bang!

The Republican Response:

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The Republican Response if the guy with the knife is wearing a Rolex and has manicured nails:

Hold on there, sir! I see the reason for your angst. What you need is a tax cut. Let me just talk to my Senator. [He takes his pet Senator out of his pocket.] Senator, baby, this poor man needs a tax cut! [Strangely, the diminutive Senator looks a lot like a parrot.]

"Tax cut tax cut!" echoes the Senator, and dives back into the pocket of the Republican and begins working away.

The Senator soon pops out of the Republican's pocket: "It's done," he announces. "Here is your tax cut!"

The wild-eyed man takes the tax cut, thanks the Republican, throws the Republican's wife over his shoulder and carries her off behind the palm tree.

So his daughter takes the Glock .40, and shoots the wild-eyed guy. "Bang! Bang! Bang!"

"Geez, Sweetie, why did you shoot that unfortunate rich guy," the Republican asked.

"Just because he's rich, Daddy, doesn't give him the right to screw anyone he wants to." The Republican looks at her, perplexed by this radical and offensive thought.

"And anyway," she adds, reaching into the dead man's pocket and pulling out the tax cut, "this tax cut comes out of my pocket because when I grow up I'm going to have to pay for it, and I can't afford that." She then tears up the tax cut, takes the Senator out of her father's pocket and says "No more tax cuts. And we need to repeal that tax cut for the rich, so I don't have to pay back that huge federal deficit when I grow up." The Senator's eyes bulge in shock and he keels over, dead.

The End

Here is an example of economic netaganda, which we received on the same day from two different friends. In each case, we were one of many on their e-mail distribution lists:

"Recently," the e-mail related "my friend's neighbor had to have their 5-year old German Shepherd dog put down due to liver failure." A paragraph later, comes the claim that a cleaning product (I have intentionally not included the name) caused the death, by including "antifreeze as one of the ingredients." The e-mail claimed that the dog – and the housekeepers two cats – all died from walking on floors that had been cleaned with this cleaning product, and then licking their own paws.

Sounds bleak, right. I mean, who in their right mind would buy that product after reading that letter? Except that it was a hoax, as was confirmed by aspca.org, bighoaxes.com, virushoax.com, and urbanlegends.about.com.

These e-mails that state untrue facts don't start themselves. They are started by those who have some sort of personal interest. Maybe a financial interest – they were started by a competitor? Maybe a different interest – they were started by a disgruntled former employee?

Why is netaganda so effective? Because with very few exceptions, you can't argue anyone out of their position. When was the last time you were at a dinner party (where the hostess allowed you to get away with a political discussion) at which anyone convinced anyone of anything fundamental? It almost never happens in rational discourse. Instead, to convince someone to do something as fundamental as changing their party allegiance – or changing the brand of cleaning product they buy – you have to go after their fundamental assumptions, without them even knowing that their fundamental assumptions are under attack.

Netaganda is typically funny, heart-warming, or heart-breaking. But mostly, funny. You enjoy reading it. And you forward it to your friends so that they will enjoy reading it. But therein lies the paradox: netaganda typically supports a conservative agenda. How many true conservatives do you know that are funny? I don't mean funny in an ironic and sardonic way like William F. Buckley, but truly funny. I mean, seriously? Some of you reading this column are conservatives. You are nice people, and I am lucky to count many of you as my friends. But ask yourself honestly: "how funny am I" (By which I mean, how funny are you, not me.) Sorry, but you aren't that funny. You've got to admit it: liberals make better comedians.

So here is my theory: somewhere deep in the bowels of the White House, in a level of the basement so deep that there isn't even a grate to let in a shaft of sunlight, is a dungeon. And locked in that dungeon is a liberal comedian. ("President Bush, President Bush," he cries out, "why am I walking around in circles." "Shut up," the President says, "or I'll have your other foot nailed to the floor.")

So the comedian is forced, day after long and painful day, to turn out netaganda stories under threat of being forced to watch Ronald Reagan re-runs. He needs your help. Write the White House today. Demand the end to torture of innocent comedians! Demand the release of the comedian in the basement!

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Netaganda, Little Red Riding Hood, And the Comedian in the Basement