Last year, I became disenchanted, or perhaps I should say more disenchanted with our political system. Looking around me, I found thousands of people willing to bitch and none willing to do anything about it, and I made a pact with myself that I would no longer give myself free rein to complain unless I also followed through on a plan to change things. I ran for office, and in the year it took to fill out petitions, to design signs and placards and write speeches and attend meetings, in the year of raising money and taking abuse, and worrying about my family, and feeling defeated, I felt like I put a check mark next to the box that said "do something".
And now, I have to once again put my figurative money where my mouth is, because my complaints and grievances are drowning out my reason and my motivation.
I joined Facebook about twelve or so years ago. Once a Myspace fan, it took me a bit to get used to the new platform, and I missed being able to add my own kick to my page- intrusively loud background music and HTML graphics to graffiti across the life I portrayed on the page. But Facebook fulfilled the same goals- watching the children of my far away friends grow up, keeping tabs on my local community, finding a plumber/stylist/housecleaner with one sentence. I grew complacent with the nonsense it included, and up until now, told myself that I was too smart to be sucked into propaganda or misinformation. I, at one time, may have said the same about phone tapping. I am not doing anything wrong, so what does it matter?
Several years ago, I read a book whose name escapes me (one of the many dangers of being an avid reader), about a boy who became a Hitler Youth. The book begins with two young brothers living in abject poverty with their parents, until the older is recruited to the Nazi party. At the time, the Nazis were not yet known to be what we later knew them to be. They, like most armies, were seen as a way of making things better for the underserved. Adolf Hitler made promises, grand sweeping proclamations for his vision of the future. He recruited up to 60% of Germany's teenage boys as Hilter youth, young men who were united in a vision for religious and political beliefs. Many of these boys were from poorer families, and they felt that joining an army was a way to provide for their parents and siblings. In the book, the joy the younger brother felt at being a part of something larger than himself is talked about at length, and there is a pride in his older brother for joining the Nazi party. But as the years go on, the smell from the bodies burning begins to drift into the villages, and even the people who had at one time revered Hitler came to realize the true happenings in their country. We know from our history books that this didn't happen overnight. It began slowly, with a charismatic leader who made promises, who systematically began to dismantle other political parties, convincing his followers that anyone with any beliefs that strayed from his were to be suspect and disbelieved or destroyed. He began to limit the press to the papers who would paint him in a favorable light, and with a keen eye for propaganda, managed to become an authoritarian, a dictator, and the rest, as we say, is history.
If you are wondering where I am going with this, I promise that I am trying to keep a long story short. If you have stuck with me this far, I appreciate your patience and apologize that I keep my font small.
My brilliant husband, who has spent the better part of two decades doing continuous learning for his job, a man who was trained in cyber hacking just to be able to spot it, a man who has not once but twice received top secret government clearance, has warned me time and again to avoid social media. He has regaled our children at the dinner table with the laundry list of egregious sins Mark Zuckerberg et al have committed. The sale of our private information and the inability to thwart the attempts at election hacking. And while my children have been smart enough to heed his warnings, his wife had not. Until now.
In one month's time, I have received a message from a stranger telling me I am a disgusting human being for being against the scab photographers who are still working despite we legitimate workers following executive orders. I saw a high school friend post that she didn't want to hear any bitching from working moms about it being hard because they should have used birth control. A client posted a meme with a wildly slanderous conspiracy theory. Several people told me to move out of the country because I don't like the president. I saw a brutal depiction of what someone wanted done to our governor. I read post after post written by "doctors" who, despite being proven to not be doctors, were reposted hundreds of times, with misinformation about this pandemic. I saw misinformation about science, misinformation about politics, misinformation about media, misinformation about vaccines, misinformation about unemployment, and So. Little. Fact. Checking.
In a time when we could look to our neighboring countries and recognize this common plight, the deaths that have now surpassed Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the famine and fear and chaos we are all sharing, we have instead chosen to let our hate grow exponentially. Family members are ending their relationships, friendships are fraying, madmen are storming cities and threatening law enforcement and medical personnel. And a simple way we could lessen the impact of all of this is to limit the misinformation and propaganda that is filling our newsfeeds every day. Yes, one could argue the first amendment. The same way they argue the second. But many people who insist they know these amendments inside and out are actually misconstruing much of what was written. Freedom of Speech is, in fact, permissible if and only if the following are curtailed:
defamation
fraud
child pornography
fighting words
threats
the incitement of imminent lawless action
We know that foreign entities, namely those who have motivation to disrupt our political process, have and will continue to do so. We know that seeds of doubt are planted, especially with those who are more intellectually vulnerable. We know that there are multiple organizations who are purchasing ad space on social media to incite riotous activity and to produce bots whose main intention is to act as propagandists.
And this, my friend, is where my original thought has led us. I cannot change Facebook. I cannot alleviate the hate or douse the fire of propagation. But I can refuse to be a party to it.
My inner voice has been saying for over a year that I have to shit to get off the pot, and it is time.
I do not expect a Jerry Maguire moment, where everyone valiantly stands to join me. But while I will walk alone, I will be walking with a healing psyche and she is good company.
My business will suffer, although after this pandemic, I am not sure what will be left to salvage. I will lose touch with many people I enjoy, and also many people whose loss will feel like a relief. I will have neither the joy of seeing pictures of growing children or the disappointment at seeing the racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, or wealth condescension posts from people I thought I knew. For the time being, I will keep my Instagram profile, despite instagram being owned by Facebook, but I will be severely limiting the scope of my following.
But most importantly, the last two months have been among the best of my life. I have rediscovered a purpose within myself that had faded without me even noticing. I have smoothed cracks in relationships with my children, and fallen in love with new recipes. I have found new ways to enjoy my husband, and new ways to drive him batty. I have taken long walks and wondered if the birds I am seeing are a new species, or if I have always just been too busy to notice them. I have recognized how few of my friends are actually good for me, and how important the ones are who remain. I have been inspired by heroism, even in its simplest form. And perhaps most importantly, I have realized how true the cliche is- life is short. Too goddamn short to waste on shitty people, shitty meals, shitty plans and shitty social media. Too goddamn short.
And now, I have to once again put my figurative money where my mouth is, because my complaints and grievances are drowning out my reason and my motivation.
I joined Facebook about twelve or so years ago. Once a Myspace fan, it took me a bit to get used to the new platform, and I missed being able to add my own kick to my page- intrusively loud background music and HTML graphics to graffiti across the life I portrayed on the page. But Facebook fulfilled the same goals- watching the children of my far away friends grow up, keeping tabs on my local community, finding a plumber/stylist/housecleaner with one sentence. I grew complacent with the nonsense it included, and up until now, told myself that I was too smart to be sucked into propaganda or misinformation. I, at one time, may have said the same about phone tapping. I am not doing anything wrong, so what does it matter?
Several years ago, I read a book whose name escapes me (one of the many dangers of being an avid reader), about a boy who became a Hitler Youth. The book begins with two young brothers living in abject poverty with their parents, until the older is recruited to the Nazi party. At the time, the Nazis were not yet known to be what we later knew them to be. They, like most armies, were seen as a way of making things better for the underserved. Adolf Hitler made promises, grand sweeping proclamations for his vision of the future. He recruited up to 60% of Germany's teenage boys as Hilter youth, young men who were united in a vision for religious and political beliefs. Many of these boys were from poorer families, and they felt that joining an army was a way to provide for their parents and siblings. In the book, the joy the younger brother felt at being a part of something larger than himself is talked about at length, and there is a pride in his older brother for joining the Nazi party. But as the years go on, the smell from the bodies burning begins to drift into the villages, and even the people who had at one time revered Hitler came to realize the true happenings in their country. We know from our history books that this didn't happen overnight. It began slowly, with a charismatic leader who made promises, who systematically began to dismantle other political parties, convincing his followers that anyone with any beliefs that strayed from his were to be suspect and disbelieved or destroyed. He began to limit the press to the papers who would paint him in a favorable light, and with a keen eye for propaganda, managed to become an authoritarian, a dictator, and the rest, as we say, is history.
If you are wondering where I am going with this, I promise that I am trying to keep a long story short. If you have stuck with me this far, I appreciate your patience and apologize that I keep my font small.
My brilliant husband, who has spent the better part of two decades doing continuous learning for his job, a man who was trained in cyber hacking just to be able to spot it, a man who has not once but twice received top secret government clearance, has warned me time and again to avoid social media. He has regaled our children at the dinner table with the laundry list of egregious sins Mark Zuckerberg et al have committed. The sale of our private information and the inability to thwart the attempts at election hacking. And while my children have been smart enough to heed his warnings, his wife had not. Until now.
In one month's time, I have received a message from a stranger telling me I am a disgusting human being for being against the scab photographers who are still working despite we legitimate workers following executive orders. I saw a high school friend post that she didn't want to hear any bitching from working moms about it being hard because they should have used birth control. A client posted a meme with a wildly slanderous conspiracy theory. Several people told me to move out of the country because I don't like the president. I saw a brutal depiction of what someone wanted done to our governor. I read post after post written by "doctors" who, despite being proven to not be doctors, were reposted hundreds of times, with misinformation about this pandemic. I saw misinformation about science, misinformation about politics, misinformation about media, misinformation about vaccines, misinformation about unemployment, and So. Little. Fact. Checking.
In a time when we could look to our neighboring countries and recognize this common plight, the deaths that have now surpassed Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the famine and fear and chaos we are all sharing, we have instead chosen to let our hate grow exponentially. Family members are ending their relationships, friendships are fraying, madmen are storming cities and threatening law enforcement and medical personnel. And a simple way we could lessen the impact of all of this is to limit the misinformation and propaganda that is filling our newsfeeds every day. Yes, one could argue the first amendment. The same way they argue the second. But many people who insist they know these amendments inside and out are actually misconstruing much of what was written. Freedom of Speech is, in fact, permissible if and only if the following are curtailed:
defamation
fraud
child pornography
fighting words
threats
the incitement of imminent lawless action
We know that foreign entities, namely those who have motivation to disrupt our political process, have and will continue to do so. We know that seeds of doubt are planted, especially with those who are more intellectually vulnerable. We know that there are multiple organizations who are purchasing ad space on social media to incite riotous activity and to produce bots whose main intention is to act as propagandists.
And this, my friend, is where my original thought has led us. I cannot change Facebook. I cannot alleviate the hate or douse the fire of propagation. But I can refuse to be a party to it.
My inner voice has been saying for over a year that I have to shit to get off the pot, and it is time.
I do not expect a Jerry Maguire moment, where everyone valiantly stands to join me. But while I will walk alone, I will be walking with a healing psyche and she is good company.
My business will suffer, although after this pandemic, I am not sure what will be left to salvage. I will lose touch with many people I enjoy, and also many people whose loss will feel like a relief. I will have neither the joy of seeing pictures of growing children or the disappointment at seeing the racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, or wealth condescension posts from people I thought I knew. For the time being, I will keep my Instagram profile, despite instagram being owned by Facebook, but I will be severely limiting the scope of my following.
But most importantly, the last two months have been among the best of my life. I have rediscovered a purpose within myself that had faded without me even noticing. I have smoothed cracks in relationships with my children, and fallen in love with new recipes. I have found new ways to enjoy my husband, and new ways to drive him batty. I have taken long walks and wondered if the birds I am seeing are a new species, or if I have always just been too busy to notice them. I have recognized how few of my friends are actually good for me, and how important the ones are who remain. I have been inspired by heroism, even in its simplest form. And perhaps most importantly, I have realized how true the cliche is- life is short. Too goddamn short to waste on shitty people, shitty meals, shitty plans and shitty social media. Too goddamn short.
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