No one has ever won any argument on Facebook
You call me a phobe I call you a fil in the most civilised way. We argue. Facts no longer matter, so it doesn’t matter if they are true or fictional. We call the people who set out to verify the truth of the facts censors. Words no longer mean what they were created to mean. What is a patriot, what is a peacemaker? We outsmart each other. We both call on God to come down and settle the accounts, in your opinion I’m to be held to account, in mine – you are. We shoot each other with words. We blow ourselves up with insults. We are haters who have a different opinion on the issue of killers. Hate is an old word, it does not express this new kind of passion to push others into a rat hole. Hatebook… , this is a keyboard error, but I won’t fix it. We call this war hybrid, something like a fake war. However, the tense nerves, the sudden raised blood pressure, the lost time, the blackness in the soul, the division, the broken friendships – all these are very real things. And you ask yourself just like Alice in the Looking Glass: “What will become of me? They’re dreadfully fond of beheading people here; the great wonder is, that there’s anyone left alive.”
