Why Do I even Bother To Argue With My Grandfather on Facebook

When he posts some dumb “meme” from whatever right wing pages he follows, why do I even bother to comment and try to point out to him what’s wrong with it.

He’s not going to change his mind. He’s certainly not going to change mine. So, what’s the point. No one else is going to come across those comments and get their mind changed. I’m just yelling into the ether at someone who made their mind up in the 60’s.

I certainly don’t do it to feel better. If I just rolled my eyes at the post and grumbled under my breath, I’d probably forget about it by dinner time. But, instead, I comment. I think, I’ll change his mind, show him the error of his ways, some how forgetting all the times that it didn’t work that way in the past. Then he replies, then I reply again, and so on and so forth. There is no celebratory “i did it” afterwards. I don’t get a trophy. I just become more anxious then I already am. I become more annoyed then I already am. Sure, I get a text from my Uncle saying “It was a god effort.” But is that what I’m doing it for?

Now that I think about it. Why does anyone argue with anyone in the comments of Facebook? Who is that for? Has anything good ever come from the comment section of a political Facebook post? Has anything good ever come from Facebook?

That’s the solution isn’t it? Just stop using Facebook? All it’s really good for is to know which relatives and people I kind of knew in High School are secretly, or sometimes proudly, racist. I don’t need that negativity.

Anyway, this is just the word vomit I’m feeling after my most recent frustrating Facebook argument.

God. I hate Facebook.

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