What do you have to spew?

The temptation is always there. I’ve managed without them for hours, days. I tremble when I ignore them, yet I tremble even more when I succumb to them.

I’m not talking about weed, booze or cocaine.

I’m talking about comment sections.

It doesn’t take a thorough online search to bump into one of these beautiful representations of American society at work. In comment sections you can find some of the stupidest, most repugnant filth imaginable.

And I’ve seen 4Chan, too, and the comment sections on reputable news sites can be just as vile and obscene (minus the manga boobs, of course).

When it comes to these hubs of discussion, I take after my main man Obi-Wan Kenobi: “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious.”

I sincerely believe there is a symbolic reason that comment sections are located at the very bottom of the page. And yes, it’s similar to the reason that a septic field is positioned at the lowest point on the property.

Hearken back to the glory days of the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street: public demonstrations were often tense. Emotions and feelings ran high. People got angry and told us what was on their minds, gosh darn it.

Take away that face-to-face interaction that so often limits the full-blown expression of our nastiness, and you’ve got comment sections.

You can virtually say anything you want, virtually. You can watch in excitement as tens of readers like your post decrying Barack Obama as a Kenyan Muslim Jew Socialist Drone Bigfoot.

You can “+1” the post of a fellow philosopher proclaiming Sarah Palin’s keen geographical observation skills.

And with the power of social media integration, we all know exactly with whom we’re talking. Just look at their profile pictures.

Like that super-sized lady. Her argument must be wrong because she’s fat. And that black guy? Let’s sprinkle in a snide remark about race. Redhead? Stupid ginger.

What’s most remarkable is how often the discussion’s topic doesn’t actually relate to the article or content in question. You could watch a video of a chipmunk being run over by a moped and “BatmanMan52” will be discussing trickle-down economics.

Whenever I find myself tangled in the web of  arguments, my head starts to hurt. Yet as frustrating as many of the comments can be, woven between the repugnancy are some that I find completely reasonable.

And trust me, I’m the guy who can’t write a column without mentioning poop, diarrhea or septic tanks. I am fully acquainted with what is reasonable.

To continue my tradition, I’d like to compare finding that one reasonable comment to finding that one toilet in the bathroom that still has a scented urinal cake. A wave of freshness hits you in the midst of your foray into a disgusting, yet necessary activity.

Discussion and debate can be a nasty, painful ordeal. But that fact alone doesn’t scorn our whole democracy.

It just makes the flush that much more satisfying.

­— chagiff@indiana.edu