I posted something about the current political / legal situation on social media yesterday and triggered a flood of responses.

I have a rule about posts on my Facebook page.  Everyone must maintain respect towards other posters or I delete their comments.  I delete comments which agree with me or disagree with me — makes no difference.  If the person leaving the comment attacks another person who has commented in the thread, I delete their comment.  I do not make exceptions.  I do not want anyone personally attacking one of my friends or acquaintances via my Social Media accounts.

The human capacity for nastiness never ceases to amaze me.  This tendency knows no boundaries.  I hear persons of all social bents, all political leanings, all ethnicities, all religions, leveling personal insults at one another both face-to-face and in the virtual realm.  I know that I’ve done that in the past but I’ve abandoned that tendency with a vengeance in the last three years.  A public figure can be blasted though I would prefer no name-calling.  But at least they volunteered for notoriety, fame, or infamy.  The rest of us just want to voice our opinions.

I’ve compiled a list of words that I particularly ban on my Facebook timeline when thrown against the average Jane or Joe.  That list includes:  Moron; moronic; stupid; the “R” word (I can’t even type it); any profanity; and any word that casts another in a negative light based on their ethnicity, heritage, gender, gender identity, religion, or physical condition.  I have no problem with disagreement or debate.  I do not condone name-calling and do not tolerate it.

I’m not complaining.  I just set that rule.  It’s a line drawn in concrete.  The world needs balance, which requires at least two points of view.  I accept that.  I reject the notion that we have license to castigate people whose views differ from ours.

Okay, I suppose I can see the possibility of natural limits to my restriction.  Child molesters, known abusers, rapists, murderers — I guess if you called someone from one of those categories a nasty name, I’d be tempted to let it go.  But even so:  Why?  Why not just recite the facts?  We can draw conclusions from facts without contemptuous rhetoric.

Another arduous political season descends on us.  The last such season left deep rifts between me and people whom I really love, but whose political views differ from mine.  I shrank away from debate then and I’ll dodge debate now, though  I do not disguise my views.  I’m a liberal Democrat.  I believe in government assistance.  I’ve been accused of being a Socialist. I didn’t mind the label, though the bitterness of the accusation wounded me.  I will never be Conservative.  But I have friends and relatives who are Conservative and I will fiercely protect them from personal attack.  We need love; we need harmony; we need to find common ground and fix the world together.

That view might not be popular and this entry might cause some who follow my blog to wrinkle their brows.  You might ask: Where is the homesy-folksy story about living a joyful life?  But these emotions rise within me today and bubble over.

I accept that others disagree with my views.  I accept that others will try to change the minds of people with polar-opposite positions.  Just don’t name-call or I will call you out, even if I concur with your political or social views.   I have seen enough sadness in a house divided.

Music pounds loudly in the background at the little restaurant where I’m hiding between court appearances, Succotash.  I watched a family struggle to come together despite their differences this morning.  This afternoon, they will need to present a united front in court, or hard choices will present themselves.  These problems transcend the question of liberal or Conservative, Republican or Democrat. Drug use and homelessness of two parents threaten the lives of their children, and that, to pararaphrase Isaac Beshevis Singer, poses the potential for catastrophe.

It’s the sixteenth day of the twenty-sixth month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.