In recent years, I’ve seen a period I call “The Rise Of The Nasties.” Anger, rage and cruelty have become an ingrained and growing part of our political and cultural and computer life – look at much of the Internet, our national political system, or all of cable news, each in their own way breeders of polarization, anger and nastiness.

Theologians tell us – Christianity in particular – that we don’t have to be either cynical, that is, nasty, in our dealings with the world, or stoic, turning away from the nasties. It is okay to dislike them and, whenever possible, torture or imprison them, take away their pets.

A former political writer, it is difficult for me to pay attention to political news any longer, there is no dialogue to speak of, the discourse there has become unrelentingly nasty, cynical and destructive. Even our political leaders are nasties. I have no desire to listen to the whining and ranting of the left and the right, and I gave up the poisonous cable news channels years ago, I never watch any of them.

I’ve been writing online for more than 30 years, it is a rare day I do not encounter nasty messages or messengers, although the great majority are quite nice. And here’s the thing, a decidedly non-spiritual confession: I hate nasty people, I viscerally and intensely dislike them. They pollute the very air we breathe, they poison real discourage and communication, they hide between computer screens and keyboards to make their tiny souls larger and more powerful.

I think I have found a good and fun and healthy way to deal with them.

There are many things to like and dislike on social media, one of my true joys in life is to ban the nasties on my Facebook page or other social media when they pop their ugly (they all have warts and sores on their heads) heads up there. It is fun in a strange sort of way, it reminds me swatting mosquitoes.  It used to happen a lot, it doesn’t happen much anymore.  I think there is something to this positive energy stuff, you get back what you put out.

The nasties taught me a great deal, they taught me to understand and see the anger inside of me, once I saw it clearly, I knew I didn’t want to have it inside of me, like a poisonous boil. Mostly, it has diminished or gone away. I think it is true that everything is a gift, if you learn to see it that way.

I make it a point not to go on Facebook more than once a day or so, it is just not how I wish to spend my time, nor do I have a lot of time to spend there. I’d rather be writing something or taking a photo or hanging out with Maria or the dogs.

I am bombarded by private messages I can’t read and personal messages I don’t care to read, stories of grief over dogs and cats, philosophical disagreements over my blog posts, joke videos that are rarely funny, links to raging political sites. Obsessive posting online is a disease, it obliterates boundaries, promotes stress and also is a great boon to the nasties, who can be nasty easily and from a safe distance. They need other nasties in order to live, they feed on nastiness. People who argue with nasty people will find their heads full of loud and chaotic noises soon enough.

When I see a nasty message, I get a sweet pleasure out of banning the poster.  It feels good, I am ridding the world of a kind of pestilence. I don’t argue or complain or warn, I just click on that “ban” button and they go away. What a miraculous thing that is. I grew up around nasty people, I saw the Internet nearly devoured by them, our democracy soiled by them, free speech stunted by them, and there is no question that social media is their playground, their natural home.

Each click of the “ban” button is sweet, a victory for civility and decency.

Social media promotes connection, but it also the great playground of the rude and idle.  The other day I wrote that I wasn’t going to wear a tie to my daughter’s wedding (she is fine with it) and was, of course, instantly assaulted with messages accusing me of selfishness and lack of love and empathy for her. I do not ever answer messages from people offering me advice or telling me what to do, (each time you ignore messages like that you become stronger and clearer in your own life, try it.)

But it doesn’t really matter. Most of the messages were obnoxious, but not really nasty. One was, a gentleman railing at me for not understanding how precious a wedding is to the woman (he didn’t mention the man) in it.  “What the hell is wrong with you?,” he thundered. I did not ask him why he thought I didn’t know that, having been married twice myself. But I didn’t, his tone was snarky, so I just banned him, and it was pleasurable, like smoking a cigarette used to be before I learned it was so dangerous.

I will simply never understand what gives people the idea that they have the right to tell other people what to do because they are on Facebook.  I am so glad poor Henry David Thoreau didn’t have Facebook when he went to Walden Pond, he would have been horrified at all of the warnings and alarms about food and animals and weather and thrown himself into the frozen pond the first day and drowned himself.  I’ve decided to go the opposite route, each nasty message will make me stronger.

I’ve gotten scores of messages this week pleading with me to put booties on Red and the donkeys, although only a couple were actually nasty, the others are perhaps unwelcome but understandable and tolerable.

One woman said I was cold and uncaring not to put space heaters in the barn, I can’t wait to pass that on to the other farmers I know.  I did not ban her, she meant well. Nasty people are a category unto themselves, banning should not be random or excessive or it will lose meaning.

But I can’t say enough about banning nasty people. A balm to the soul.  Nastiness, like anger, is a vibe, a kind of perverted connection. Look what has happened to our political system, the best-meaning people have no choice but to get nasty or be eaten alive. It won’t happen to me. I’m with the Christian theologists, if you respond to nasty people with nastiness, you will simply become one of them, it will eat you up. But you can respond, you don’t have to pretend not to notice.

I wish I could ban nasty people in real time and real life. Every time a politician said something nasty instead of honest or thoughtful, I would hit the “ban” button and send him or her off to Purgatory. Same with the digital nasties, one day there will be a kind of digital phaser button, you can just hit it and vaporize them. Think what a nicer place the earth will be.

I am pleased to learn that my dislike of the nasties will not interfere with my spiritual life, I just read this morning that the Dalai Lama has a wicked temper, he  says he has no patience for nasties and dissemblers. I feel much hope.