I am troubled. Deeply troubled. On an almost-daily basis, I engage in self-destructive behavior. I know it’s not healthy for me. It doesn’t satisfy me, but still I can’t help myself. I’m powerless to control this insatiable demon.
I don’t know if there’s a support group for people with my addiction. So, this may be the closest I come.
My name is Dan. I am a Yahoomasochist.
Far too frequently, I defy every informed instinct I possess, and wade into the comments section of a frontpage story on Yahoo. Or, I’ll follow a not-so-helpful link from a friend into the deeper recesses of the internet, a place entirely void of any shred of humanity. The Deplorables website, for instance. I routinely check in on the Facebook updates of a former colleague who can only be described by the clinical term, batshit crazy.
I can’t say why I do it. Am I hopeful that this time, the assembled commentariat will surprise me with a lively and intelligent discussion? Or am I just looking for carnage, the accident on the opposite side of the interstate that I simply can’t avoid staring down.
In either case, the voyage only leaves me feeling angry, ill, or merely hopeless. It’s tempting to respond, as a few brave souls occasionally do, but their words of wisdom, logic or simple sanity are swept away by the tidal wave of horrific spelling, random capitalization and faulty logic. Oh, and the racism, sexism and all the other delightful isms.
Many of these commenters can only be described as professionally stupid. There’s simply no way one could reach that level of ignorance without actively working at it. This is not just obliviousness to fact and reason, but being introduced to the concepts and voluntarily and forcefully opting out.
But if they’re stupid, what does that make me? I’ve got to trudge up three flights of stairs (no elevator service here), just to reach breathtakingly moronic.
Commenting is now open.