The genuine article

I can’t read on the internet anymore. The Manosphere. Arts and letters daily. Comments sections anywhere.

Arts and letters daily is highfalutin and dull. I fall asleep reading the excerpts on the front page. The contrived cleverness is a tranquilizer. The varnish of scholarship stings my eyes.

I imagine the male writers of those articles crossing their legs, wrapping silk scarves around their spindly necks and nursing a hot chocolate as they embark on a quivering, puckering exploration into the nature of the self, memory or the semiotics of cod pieces. An obsession with history can also be a form of amnesia.  

One thing is also another thing. Always a form of something else. Who would have thought. Not you, you simpleton. You’ve spent your whole mentally mundane life thinking a thing is the thing it is and not a form of another thing, you bare footed, tin shack dwelling yahoo.

Things are also the opposite of themselves. But only in specific circumstances, part of the time, when certain features are present. Maybe. For our deepest, most delicate thinkers, the only conclusions are ambiguously inconclusive. Read 2500 instantly forgettable, finely strained word wisps on the unreliable function of memory. Wander through a 5000 word fog on boredom which also reflexively examines how boring it is.

We’ve talked about boredom, but have we talked about being bored while reading articles on boredom?  These articles are MC Eschar paintings of a penis masturbating itself.

The setup is the same. We’ve beaten a topic into a putrid pulp. We’ve stripped the corpse clean and taken off into the desert, hooting and yelping. But our author has found one last thing in the abandoned carrion to examine.

Over the last fifty years, we’ve said all we can say about the cultural significance of footwear. And where a decent person would stop and become a welder, our writer blasts on ahead with a few thousand more words. What our shoes say about us. What our shoelaces say about us. Everything is always talking to the professional, useless talkers. It’s not enough for people to babbly continuously. Every inanimate object has something to say as well.

The writer will then make reference to Thoreau, W.H. Auden, Orwell and Jane Austin. They will shoehorn Orwell into any article on politics. Because every article on politics is an article on totalitarianism, and you can’t mention totalitarianism without discussing Orwell. Or Hannah Arendt.

More articles by adjunct reserve lecturers at two year tech schools in the virgin islands about totalitarian footwear featuring lengthy quotes from Orwell and Arendt. Every day another set of articles. Some of them will be about how knowledge is also a form of ignorance. Reading is a form of illiteracy.

Let’s make more noise about the value of silence. There’s so much information, how do we decide what’s important. There are so many articles about information overload, how do we choose among them. Time is short and death beckons; how do we select the hardest hitting, most informative, most entertaining pieces about things which are also other things?

I’ve read many articles on how many articles are circulating, but what I need help with is choosing the right article on choosing the best articles about the excess of articles.

The manosphere is an oldmanosphere. Creaking and groaning about misandry and circumcision as it offers tips on fucking and deserting young, impressionable women. They bluster about traditional values in one breath and then blather about shit that didn’t happen at an imagined orgy with 18 year olds in the next. Autistic alpha males discuss hypergamy as they rock uncontrollably in their computer chairs. Hypergamy is the word they use when they want to feel smart about calling women whores.

Then there are the men going their own way. MTGOW. There’s no such thing as men going their own way. The only way men may go on their own is to the grave, into eternal darkness and genetic annihilation. But until then they pretend they’ve escaped from the man mauling prison of western society into the jungles of southeast asia or some other third world hellhole where they can buy preteen girls for pennies.

There’s also the ass stomping, iron bending, isolated executive branch of the sphere, with its avalanche of articles on optimizing, maximizing, making more money, diversifying revenue streams, niche sites, consulting gigs and fitness and fashion advice.

It’s where you’ll read about the 10 things you need to do that worked for the person who wrote the article but will be useless for you. Where you can buy ebooks on writing profitable ebooks. It’s not a pyramid scheme, it’s revolutionary advice from an uncompromising artist. Get aimlessly pumped and motivated and fired up four billion times before you realize your life isn’t special and your identity as a wealthy internet ceo will never materialize.

The odds are that you’ll get married, work a job and have a boss. You’ll make more money for someone else than you make for yourself. You’ll struggle and feel stressed at times but also you’ll have a family to love and protect. Every commercial on tv is about how stupid and incompetent you are but turn off the tv, raise your children and provide for your family. Worrying about how tv represents you is for blacks and women.

You’re not an international, self employed playboy. It’s okay. It doesn’t make you a failure, a sheep, a lemming, or part of a braying herd. Quit letting anti-social internet goons bully you into thinking your average life is inadequate. Wanting a wife and children is normal and healthy. There’s nothing wrong with working a socially necessary, unglamorous job. Find meaning and fulfillment in your family, community and religion.

What do I know, I’m nearly illiterate. When I tell people I write, they ask what I write about and I don’t know what to tell them. Then they ask what I like to read and I don’t have an answer for that either.

I’m a musician who doesn’t listen to music and a writer who doesn’t read. I lift weights but I hate fitness. I smoke weed but I hate potheads and pot culture.

People ask what I do with my free time and I evade the question like a well oiled politician.

Author: The Empty Subject

Born curmudgeon

5 thoughts on “The genuine article”

  1. The internet is 99% metal masturbation, but we all knew this. I should read the great books, but I’m too lazy, tired, or perhaps just too stupid.

    Why does the blogosphere persist? I can’t have a conversation of substance with most of the people I meet in real life. The conversation always devolves into discussion of sports or pop culture. I have no objection to either of those topics, but I usually have little to say.

    The blogospere is more of a virtual social club than an intellectual endeavor. Enjoy it for what is is.

    1. You’re right about the sphere being more of a club than anything else. I get it. I can’t talk to most people I know about politics, culture, race or sexuality. I’d lose my low status service job if I ever joked with anyone there the way I joke on here. I’m glad there are places where like minded people can gather and share their unacceptable opinions.

      I have great books sitting around. My attention span isn’t what it used to be. Although I did just start reading a great book on the history of English speaking people in the 20th century. I might write about it.

  2. The manosphere is full of contradictions but the general awareness that you would have after reading Rollo is all you need. The rest is what is called the narcissism of minor differences endemic to fundamentalist religions and sectarian divisions in extreme political movements.

    Thats why I like your more personable style. Also no one has a monopoly on truth. All you can to is call it how you see it. You’ve also believed different ideas at different times and that gives insight. Even if you really dislike people, if you have ever thought like them it humanizes them and gives you great perspective.

    1. Glad you like the style. And to be fair, which I rarely am, I did learn a lot from the manosphere. But it gets tiring and repetitive, which is an old complaint of mine.

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