I don’t do it to make people feel bad about themselves. I don’t do it to be mean. I never just randomly trash talk or troll, I only like a debate when both sides are active. I’m not sure if I fit the description of a keyboard warrior but I do reply to everyone that disagrees with a comment I write. I’m definitely more aggressive and outspoken online than I would be in real life. Fite me! That euphoric feeling when debating gets so intense, all other things pale in comparison. I sometimes miss how it was back when people weren’t glued to their screens and those who participated in chat rooms were really into the topic they were about. Now everyone is there. People are as tiresome online as they are in real life. Maybe even more so. Everyone wants their ego stroked. Truth isn’t popular because it requires self-reflection (and work). I’m not online all the time. Good points don’t put food on the table. Man, I hate to think about all the people who get away with being wrong in the comment sections while I’m cooking for the kids.

I have a full-time job. 9-5. I’m serious all day and carry heavy-duty responsibilities. I guess trolling is a way to let loose. Anyways. I do not only troll. There are things I can’t share with people face-to-face, so writing in longform has been comforting and helpful. I write when I’m off work, or when I can’t sleep at night. 5-9. Whenever I speak to my ‘real life’ friends I always ask for consent before venting. I begin the conversation with something like hi, I am really upset/sad, can I talk to you about it? Problem is that, although I’m ok with a no, not now, they feel obligated to listen, whether they are emotionally prepared or not. I’ve sometimes been accused of trauma dumping but where’s the line between trauma dumping and just talking about your life? I know that I’m a lot. I tend to speak about anything, positive or negative. For someone like me, forums are just easier to vent in. No one is forced to read the whole thing, so I never have to worry about being somewhat lengthy.

Troll or truth-seeker, what is more important, being heard or being right? What makes some people participate in extensive social discussions and air their views on multiple themes and topics? What makes others abstain? Today’s impromptu speeches are given from cellars rather than soapboxes. The ‘platform’ is no longer (just) a raised wooden crate on the street corner. We don’t need to make ourselves visible to make ourselves heard. In a time where voice is often separated from body, what are the potentials and what are the pitfalls? What happens when the words run wild?

9-5, 5-9 explores excessive online culture and presence as well as ‘real-world’ trolling and disruption. It is an investigation of tags and interventions, places and non-places, liminal spaces, anonymity and usernames, the untamed land of my-two-cents. It’s a look at the volume of voices and crowds, whether occupying the streets or filling our feeds. We manifest ourselves in physical spheres or let our mind travel in blue light while our body feels left in the stone age. Active participant or passive passersby, you promise yourself an early night but end up scrolling till dawn.

9-5, 5-9 is the opening exhibition at Room Room curated by inter.pblc / Kristian Kirk and Johanne Jacobsen. The show presents nine local and international artists all connected to Art Hub Copenhagen. The participating artists include Beth Collar (b. 1984), Heine Kjærgaard Klausen (b. 1978), Javier Alvarez Sagredo (b. 1994), Jules Fischer (b. 1988), Justin F. Kennedy (b. 1983), Maja Malou Lyse (b. 1993), Masar Sohail (b. 1982), Sara Sjölin (b. 1991) and Simon Dybbroe Møller (b. 1976).

While working in various different media spanning sculpture, video, performance, photography, sound and installation, all artists share a common interest in how today’s society is formed by social structures and how generations are shaped by digital culture. Through diverse and pluralistic artistic practices the exhibited works deal with anarchistic energies roaming huge monopolies. With humour and gravity the exhibition examines unclear structures in our visual culture, where communication and chaos stand central to the experience of being in touch with the world of our time.