Farmers Weekly Review

By Nick Reiher

There’s a lot of hate out there. And by “out there,” I mean practically everywhere, but mostly on social media.

About everything.

Sports. I follow a couple of “fan” pages for my favorite sports teams. Even on the relatively mundane posts, comments follow that show anything but being a fan.

Ketchup on hotdogs is mostly a fun teasing on Facebook. But Pizza? Holy crap.

“Thin crust. Don’t call it ‘tavern style.’” “Deep dish? What, are you a tourist?” “Squares; not triangles!”

Too thick, too burnt, not cooked enough. It’s the best. It’s the worst. “You made that? Looks good. … Nice try. WTF?”

Pizza.

Back in the day, like a decade or so ago, Facebook was pitched to me as a way to connect with family and friends. Maybe make new friends. I thought it would be nice to have social media visibility for Farmers Weekly since we didn’t have fwrnews.com then.

We got one in August of 2016. Right before that fun election. Since I had to have a personal Facebook page to be an administrator on the Farmers Weekly page, I was inundated with all sorts of memes as I added “friends,” ultimately, many whom I never had met and still have not.

A lot of them have been good friends. We share good tidings, ribald jokes when appropriate, virtual hugs often, recipes and family pictures with fur babies.

I also have lost some, as I assume I have been lost others, unable to agree, mostly on political issues. I’m sure I have been blocked or lost to some, as well, especially in the beginning of all this when I was bent on correcting every false statement that came my way.

You see, that’s what I’ve tried to do as a journalist for the past 45 years. Check statements and verify. But even when I had verified information that contradicted memes, some were not swayed. I was derided, as were people who tried the same thing.

When I found by checking that I was incorrect or posted a false meme, I pulled it and apologized. That’s what reputable journalists should do. Verify, correct if necessary, apologize and never do the same thing again.

But Facebook, and I hear of other social media platforms I’m not on, has gotten to be a platform too often for fighting. For derision. For negativity. For division.

There is warning. You can see the emojis even before the comments to know what you’re in for.

But sometimes, those laughing emojis – ones that really should look like an ass braying — don’t capture the vile comments to follow.

A couple times, I’ve commented, “This is a fan page? It seems more like one for (fill in the main rival).”

Once in a while I think, hope really, the comments are coming from our rivals in another country.

Former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi fell recently and had hip replacement overseas. The comments on the Facebook page of a Chicago news station were horrible.

Of course, when I attempted to point out those comments were reflective of the country we have become, I was derided for defending a person who was so horrible. I was being political.

“Did you like her inside trading?” one said.

I don’t really like her. Nor do I like Mitch McConnell. But that doesn’t mean I feel good they were hurt. I didn’t take any pleasure at the assassination attempt on Donald Trump. I was horrified this is what our country has become.

I just don’t buy into hate anymore. That doesn’t mean I might not try to reason with someone on Facebook. Although I should know by now that ship has sailed, sunk, been restored and decommissioned.

I’m not Gandhi. I just realized the only one getting hurt by my hate was me. Chances are, the people, and definitely the thing, I was hating, didn’t know (or would likely care) about my feelings.

I also realized my hate was buying into a divisiveness that is threatening to destroy this country. It certainly has destroyed relationships with family and friends.

This year, I will continue to try to stay away from the hate, and, when I think appropriate, call out people – especially those elected to serve us – for acting that way.

We don’t have to love each other, but we sure should try to respect one another.

That way, maybe we can get back to being a nation that’s indivisible.

Here’s to a respectful 2025.

Nick Reiher is editor of Farmers Weekly Review.