Life Is Better When You Don’t Read the Comments…
I need to tattoo this somewhere on my body. Maybe across my forearm like a reminder from a dystopian YA novel: DON’T READ THE COMMENTS.
Because every time—every time—I read something online and think, “Wow, that was thoughtful,” I make the fatal mistake of scrolling down. And without fail, I find myself staring into the digital equivalent of a septic tank left open during a heatwave.
There’s one legal blog I genuinely enjoy. Smart writing. Interesting cases. Actual insight. And yet, like a raccoon pawing through a dumpster, I inevitably wander into the comment section hoping—truly hoping—to witness intelligent discussion.
Instead, the very first comment is always some version of:
“Well, what do you expect from an idiot like OP?”
Fantastic. The opening serve is ad hominem at 110 mph. No analysis, no engagement, just immediate character assassination. Not even creative character assassination. Just the drive-thru value menu variety.
Then come the whatabouters, scurrying in right on schedule.
“Sure, this case is about municipal regulations, BUT WHAT ABOUT THAT THING THAT HAPPENED IN 1992 IN ALBUQUERQUE???”
Followed by the Trump Injectors, who have a magical ability to connect absolutely anything to the former president. The post could be about contract interpretation, or medieval property law, or a recipe for lemon bars, and someone will still show up like:
“Well, in the age of Trump…”
No. No, sir. We are not discussing the age of anything. We are discussing—checks notes—lemon bars.
And it’s not just legal blogs. Oh no. Wander into any comment section, anywhere, on any topic, and the pattern is identical. You could be reading a harmless nostalgia piece about the 80s sitcom ALF. Just people reminiscing about a wisecracking alien puppet who wanted to eat cats.
And still someone finds a way to post:
“Sure, ALF was a good show, but in the age of Trump you’d be arrested for making it now.”
What? How? Who is arresting whom, for what? Why is Trump lurking behind every pop-culture corner like a jump-scare in a haunted house?
Comment sections are almost always cesspools. And the worst part is: even the good ones rot. Every decent corner of the internet eventually becomes a swamp. It starts out fine—maybe a few polite disagreements, a reference or two to actual facts—and then one day you look down and realize you’re knee-deep in toxicity with a stranger named “ConstitutionalPatriot99” screaming at “WokeSnowflake420” about something entirely unrelated to the original post.
And I always tell myself: Don’t scroll down. Don’t do it. Just enjoy the article and walk away like a normal human being.
But do I listen?
Of course not.
I scroll.
I read.
I regret.
Then I vow never to do it again.
Until the very next day, when I once again convince myself that this time the comment section will be different. This time it will be full of reasoned arguments and thoughtful replies and maybe even a citation to an actual case.
But no. It’s the same hellscape, just wearing a different avatar.
One day I’ll learn.
Or maybe I’ll just get that tattoo.
Life is better when you don’t read the comments.