The Lighter Side of the Black Pill
Politics is retarded. Only powerful crystals can save us. The attempt at persuasion of people is mostly pointless. You can articulate your position expertly, easily refuting the same flimsy arguments and pathetic clichés you’ve heard a thousand times. Meanwhile, transracial pop star Ariana Grande tweets nothing but “goo goo gaga” baby talk all day long and has 59 million loyal followers. Perhaps you believe that by mastering the language of “goo goo gaga” baby talk, you can enlist and mobilize 60 million empty vessels toward the project of securing your fleeting geopolitical ends. Wouldn’t it be just as fruitful to purchase a packet of sea monkeys and appoint yourself their supreme overlord? Before you start thinking about how you’re going to “save” Western civilization with your based dwarven fash army, have a look around. Half your office is probably already filled with Indian programmers who’ve never even seen an episode of 90210. Most people can’t even handle the level of civilization required to adhere to the assigned parking spaces map in a typical suburban apartment complex. Whatever remains of the prospect of any meaningful nationalism (in the US at least) has already been ruined by mathematically challenged, short sighted, Neo-Quaylist, “family values” tradfag retreads like….well I won’t name any names because there’s no point. They’ll never get it. In fact, if by some miracle these wacktivists are successful in reclaiming or “saving” anything, the resulting society will likely be a place equally or less desirable to live in than what would exist otherwise. In other words, they’re offering at best a zero sum outcome, like Tic Tac Toe. There is no viable electoral pathway toward overcoming the legislative and judicial obstacles standing in the way of restoring or even maintaining a nation-state that would exist in any recognizable form other than name only. Why throw your support behind politicians and “thought” leaders that don’t have your back and don’t even share your goals. Why make common cause with people who aren’t on remotely the same page as each other and who may not even understand what your core beliefs are? Why aspire to become some Mr Potato-Head barbarian when you can immortalize yourself in the world of Melrose Place fanfiction?
Above all else, whenever you start lapsing into romantic idealizations of humanity, it’s important to remember that people are pests. To quote Uncle Charlie in Shadow of a Doubt:
You go through your ordinary little day and at night you sleep your untroubled, ordinary little sleep filled with peaceful, stupid dreams. And I brought you nightmares! Or did I, or was it a silly inexpert little lie. You live in a dream. You’re a sleepwalker, blind. How do you know what the world is like? Do you know the world is a foul sty? Do you know if you rip the fronts off houses you’d find swine? The world’s a hell. What does it matter what happens in it? Wake up, Charlie! Use your wits. Learn something.
The only way forward is to check out and ascend into the ether, carving out a portably permeative, floating couch cushion fort existence somewhere over the heads of the tot bots …and through the place which can only be reached by those with the capacity to detect its presence.