Bark bark bark bark

Angry and hyper

I read a few paragraphs of a piece recently in that super argumentative and sort of hyper voice some people use in their writing. You know the one where you read it and you picture like a great big finger appearing out of the sky and floating towards you to wag and wag. And there are always a million angry caveats to everything they say and it is just like what is the point of this. Why are you so angry? Why have you not moderated the tone of this at all?

When I read it I always think of one of those tiny dogs you see. The ones with silky hair and tiny eyes in an ugly little face. Sometimes those dogs have a human’s hairstyle. Have you ever noticed that? They have like a little side ponytail or pigtails and they scurry around on a long lead in the shopping centre barking their horrible bark. Bark bark bark bark bark. And the owner is always whispering: Shush, shush. It’s ok. It’s ok.

But the owner knew exactly what kind of dog they were buying, I always think. The owner knew this is how it would bark. And it probably barked this morning when its hair was being put into pigtails and then at night, when the owner is going to bed, there it probably goes again. Bark bark bark bark bark. And the noise is so unpleasant and so needlessly ferocious. So that is what I call that hyper angry tone in my head when I see it: Bark bark bark bark.