A call for light in dark times

I dread clicking into my Twitter feed. I secretly hope the snide, clever, cutting remark from some lightly informed blowhard hiding behind some gutless pseudonym won’t be there.

I always swipe away disappointed. Between this and news reporters eagerly giving away their hard work to dark souls who salivate at the chance to spin 280 characters of news into some gif or quip bent on bullying others.

It’s not just the comments, either. It’s the number of people who “heart” the swipes, that people are finding joy in piling onto the verbal destruction of another.

Political attacks aren’t new. Social media didn’t invite them. Twitter and Facebook, to an extent, only empowers people to constantly pop off on a public bulletin board under a cloak of anonymity. Unless you pledge to commit a crime, you can say whatever you want without repercussions.

If you’re crafty enough with your words, you get followers. The more followers you get, the more people who agree with your message, the more empowering it is.

Is the information 100% accurate? That’s a secondary concern. If it’s one at all.

COVID has made it worse. We’re isolated. We don’t talk to others. We’re supposed to stay 6 feet away. We’re fleeing to our iPhones to share our inner most thoughts.

We’re finding out that someone else on this planet secretly thinks the way you do, no matter how unsettling it might be. Those who don’t? Who cares. Unfriend them. Block them. “Ratio them.” Because you have your clan. You and your posse are correct. Others are wrong and they need to know that.

Don’t just tell them. Be a disruptor. Rock the boat. Protest it. Shout it. Take it to them! Go to their doorstep! Fight! FIGHT HARDER! MAKE THEM BEND TO YOUR WILL!

That’s right. Win. Prove you are right. Your view on things must win. Win at all costs. Embarrass the “others.” They are the opposition. Threaten them. Threaten their family. But be smart about it. Use fake names. Protect yourself from the cops. The cops don’t get it. The people don’t get it. You and your posse do.

Oh, my God, what is happening to us?

Secretary of State Jocelyn Benson can’t read a bedtime story to her kid. State Canvasser Norm Shinkle can’t prepare for a meeting? State representatives — Republicans and Democrats — need State Police protection after numerous death threats? High-powered rifles being paraded around the state Senate gallery? Betsy DeVos and Lansing Mayor Andy Schor’s front lawns are home turf for bullhorn-carrying, bucket bangers well after sundown?

A homegrown militia was shooting guns in the woods — at the very least — with a fantasy that they would kidnap the governor … at a minimum.

This is our new normal. It must end. Before someone is killed. Seriously. It must end.

Calling out the “other side” for over-the-top tactics is easy. Looking the other way when “your side” engages in intimidation and bullying is cowardly.

These days, I’m not seeing a lot of courage. Political courage in unsettling times is not striking fear into the hearts of others. It’s not keeping the base motivated until the next election. It’s not fueling rage, hate and misunderstanding with a “heart” or a retweet.

It’s not calling out people with your version of “the facts,” as if political nuisances of facts haven’t been a standard since time immemorial.

Courage is putting yourself in political risk. It’s turning down the temperature of “your people.” It’s helping inform the underinformed without being condescending or belittling or snide or petty. It’s showing some compassion for their hurt.

Why do people feel the way they do? What is causing the pain? Is there anything you can do? Anything you can say? Or can you listen to another member of the human race vent.

Like you’re doing right now. Thank you.

Being kind is courageous.

Being kind won’t get you 13,900 Twitter followers, but maybe it will make the day of one a little lighter.

We’re all hurting. We all are.

(Kyle Melinn of the Capitol news service MIRS is at melinnky@gmail.com.)