Taking a break from Facebook
Bored with the pandemic, my neighbors are going all out for Halloween. One yard is covered with skeletons— pushing their way out of the ground, walking skeleton dogs, driving a carriage pulled by a skeleton horse. In other yards, there are ghosts dancing around trees, and witches gathered around kettles.
It’s pretty scary, especially when you’re out for a walk at dusk. But the scariest thing about Halloween this election year is Facebook. It terrifies me every day.
Beloved relatives and old friends are saying false and ghastly things, making it hard to recognize people I thought I knew.
One kindhearted young lady posted something long and weird about how the coin shortage, stimulus checks and pandemic public safety measures are part of a conspiracy to steal our freedom and turn us into communists.
These weren’t her own words—she had copied them from somewhere, and was getting “likes” from people I know to be otherwise sentient beings.
Another relative posted a meme with a picture of a pretty baby that claimed that Kamala Harris was fine with killing infants after their birth.
I get on Facebook to look at vacation pictures and see how people’s tomato crops are doing, then leave it hyperventilating, fists clenched, heart pounding. If I don’t respond to these outrageous posts, I feel bad, but if I do respond, I feel worse because I’m fighting with family.
The scariness is not just coming from the right. Liberal friends also post misleading memes. Many bewail every goofy thing Trump says and then proclaim, “If you support him, you’re a moron and can unfriend me now!” Which isn’t a great way to win over hearts and minds. One acquaintance said she had “unfriended” 45 people during this election season. Ouch.
I joined Facebook with reluctance 15 years ago, because the newspaper that employed me said it would be good for promoting stories. I was afraid it would kill letter writing and Christmas cards, and make parties duller because the anecdotes and photos had already been shared online. I also feared it would hurt newspapers, by making everyone a publisher.
While all this has proved to be true, Facebook has its merits. I enjoy catching up with college friends who were never good letter writers. I like seeing kids grow and talking about books and movies.
It’s ironic that this medium, which started as a dating site intended to bring people together, has become such a big source of misinformation and a means to pull us apart.
There’s the option of quitting Facebook, which is appealing, but then I’d miss all the baby pictures and marriage and death announcements.
Instead, I’m going to take a Facebook break, at least until after the election. Maybe even longer. If you have a baby, send me a snapshot in a Christmas card.
Outside, you can get a breath of fresh air, look at the moon and take a walk. And maybe you find somebody to talk to, in real life.