I had a post scheduled for today entitled “Why You Should Never Debate Leftists.” It was full of truly great zingers: statistical proof that leftists are unhappier than conservatives, hand-picked quotes from my enemies in which they talked about their antipsychotic abuse and suicide attempts, as well as some truly priceless lines. I guarantee that the bulk of you would have read it, enjoyed it, then spread it all over Twitter and Facebook, pushing up my hit counters and helping me sell more books.
You won’t be reading the post, because I just deleted it. Why?
From an objective standpoint, it was crap. Maybe not total crap—like I said, there were some good lines in there—but it was below my usual level of quality. I cranked it out as an “evergreen” piece that I could post during weeks I was feeling uninspired and still needed to produce articles for the blog. While I don’t expect everything I write to be supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, I realized that writing filler pieces like that would dilute the quality of my brand. While I have written in Confessions of an Online Hustler that “nobody expects you to hit a home run every time you step up to bat,” they aren’t expecting you to just sit like a lump and watch the balls whizz by either.
But I also deleted the post because it’s a pointless topic.
What exactly does another assembly line article on the psychopathology of the left contribute to the world? There are concepts and ideas in this vein that need to be explored, but the thing about these insights is that they’re rare. There’s not enough of them to justify multiple posts per week or even per month about the topic. And it’s not like this information is going to enhance anyone’s lives in any particular way. Most everyone who reads this kind of crap does it as a momentary distraction, a way of entertaining themselves, no different than drooling in front of the boob tube or getting seizures from the latest cookie-cutter shooter video game.
Excessively writing/reading about politics or feminism or current events is the intellectual equivalent of slicing your dick with a penknife while you jerk off. It’s nothing more than immersing yourself in a reality that makes you unhappy solely for a dopamine burst of “Ha ha, those people we disagree with sure are DUMB!” Even if you’re right, constantly having to re-affirm that you’re right is a wasteful and unhealthy activity.
Let’s get real: there’s no reason to constantly write (or read) missives on a particular ideology. When you first start out learning about a new skill or worldview (game, neoreaction etc.), you’re naturally going to want to consume all the information you can get. This is normal. But after a while, repeatedly scouring the same sites for rehashed takes on the exact same subjects doesn’t serve any purpose. Either you learn the material and move on, or you’re not smart enough to learn the material and you’re hopeless.
In both cases, you’re wasting your time.
Furthermore, sticking around in the same stagnant ideological pool warps you mentally. The water becomes dirty with feces and piss. The normal people slowly edge away, leaving behind the weirdos, who further retreat into their weirdness. Losing perspective on the world, the remaining swimmers become schizoid, developing increasingly elaborate excuses for why the world has rejected them and why they’re right about everything.
Let’s take neoreaction/the Dark Enlightenment as an example. Philosophically, I’m on board with neoreaction (well, the majority of it anyway). But what’s the point of repeatedly going to neoreactionary blogs, having neoreactionary debates, getting the neoreactionary take on every issue? It’s not like it’s some burgeoning field of science, with a new discovery coming out every week. Once you’ve digested, say, What is Neoreaction? as well as a couple of other blogs, you’ve basically learned all there is to know. The rest is just masturbation.
The same goes for any online community: the manosphere, feminism, Orthosphere, all of it. Once you’ve internalized a certain amount of info, anything more is just a waste of valuable time, like re-reading the same book over and over. Ideologically-focused online communities are glorified LARPing sessions for people who don’t have the social skills to hang out with actual D&D nerds. They bestow moronic titles on each other and fondle each others’ fleshy bits in lieu of doing anything real with their lives.
Then they scrub the blood and semen stains off their laptops so they can do it all over again.
Mike from Danger & Play told me a great bit of wisdom years ago: if what you’re writing about isn’t changing, it means YOU aren’t changing. I have no interest in playing or hearing the same three songs for the rest of my life. Does this mean I’ve changed my opinions? No. Does it mean I won’t ever write about these subjects ever again? No. It just means I don’t feel the need to restate them continuously just to tickle the loins of a bunch of people I don’t know in real life.
Online communities are useful for two purposes: learning and making connections with like-minded guys in the real world. And I don’t mean some stupid political scheme that will bring the wrath of the feds upon you; I mean just hanging out and having fun. Once you know all you need to know, it’s time to move on.
Read Next: Practicing Online Hygiene