The Neurosis of Editing Facebook Posts

The Neurosis of Editing Facebook Posts

If people only knew. Responses left un-typed, opinions left unvoiced. Responses that would burn the skin of a camel, no lie. My generously-sized almost-four-hundred-friends list would dwindle down to maybe…ten?

Well, thank goodness for that. I don’t know where I would be without the valuable gift of social etiquette. I also don’t know where I would be without the multitude of loyal friends I have on Facebook.

So many times I’ve typed out essay-length lawyer-quality rebuttals to moronic memes or patronising posts. On a brave day, I might even click ‘post’. A heavily edited version, that is. Society would be turned upside down if I actually voiced/typed my unfiltered ideas about really important stuff like where people should pee. The world is officially insane. No going back now. Aren’t you so proud, all you champions of diversity? You have definitely made the world a better place (cough, cough, choke, splutter).

I look forward to twenty years from now when I can say a big fat I TOLD YOU SO to all the naive-empathisers-of-things-they-don’t-understand. When all the humans who identify with liking children, or the humans who decide to live as a dalmation, or the humans who decide to marry their horse come out of their hiding places, ready to embrace an all-accepting world. Ah, what a wonderful idyllic place it will be then. It will be full of love, and peace, and harmony, and finally, FINALLY, everyone will be equal to love whoever they please.

LOVE IS LOVE, after all.

To whoever created that slogan: you are a moron. You might want to revise that statement when infants/animals/your teenage daughter become the object of someone’s distorted love. Love isn’t love. Love can be obsession, infatuation, stalking, and the much-more-innocent love of things like sunshine and chocolate.

After all, everyone has a moral ‘no-no’. That’s the problem with people. They’re complex, emotional, affected by personal experience, weighed down by the past, the present, the future. Hence, everyone’s moral ‘no-no’ is different. What I find immoral you find OK. What you find immoral Mr. Pervert down the road does on a daily basis. What even he finds immoral Mr. Child Pervert living in a different country is experimenting with but not quite sure about as he hasn’t quite deceived his mind fully yet. Let’s not even talk about Mr. Baby Pervert.

Us humans are experts at being polite and full of ridiculous ideas. We make our beliefs the centre of our universe. Unfortunately, the proportion of naive-empathisers to logical-thinkers in recent times is growing rapidly. More and more, logical-thinkers are being drowned out by naive-empathisers, as it is those who know the least that often speak the loudest. 

And this is why I do two things when it comes to naive-empathisers on Facebook. Two things that are basically determined by my mood and outlook at any given time.

The first:

Surely if I bombard this person with facts and logical reasoning in a cowardly-heavily-edited-reply-to-be-polite they will see sense.

Note to self: This first method has been tried and tested and the subjects have not been affected by facts and logical reasoning because they are more heavily swayed by emotional hysteria and personal experience.

The second:

This is an even more cowardly response to Facebook social/cultural/political pollution than the first. It involves various mouth-zipping, tongue-biting steps:

Step One

Don’t say a word.

Step Two

Click back obsessively every half-hour to read replies and find out if everyone else in the world is insane.

Step Three

Slap forehead and sigh when I see that the post has one hundred likes and fifty comments applauding the opinion. The one person who bravely/futilely disputes it has been bombarded a-la schoolyard playground by insults/taunts/responses that are seldom, if ever, supported by facts.

Step Four

Click unfollow on the person to make sure that I’m not tempted to write something when in a ranty mood.

Step Five

Spend some time with my husband, my dogs, or vent to my mother on the phone in order to temporarily restore my faith in humanity. 

I have found that the second method is working out nicely for me. The next time someone cites Snopes as an infallible source may be my undoing, however.

Let’s not go there…​​