Having a two-tier attitude towards life can save lives. You’re walking late at night – what’s that you see? A large gathering of black youths in hoodies. Should you walk up and greet them, then ask what their grandmother’s best jollof rice recipe is? No. Don’t do that. That’s the behaviour of mugs. I’ve never cruised around New Cross on a match day and seen a marauding group of stella-swigging white boys, chanting “we’re Millwall, no-one likes us” and felt the urge to applaud the diversity, run over, join in with their cultural song and smile inside because I’m such a good, non-judgemental person. That’s also for mugs.

Exercising a clear mental filter based on stereotypes is what keeps us from the grave. You don’t put your hands in fire, you don’t antagonise a lion, and you don’t stick your tongue in a hot toaster.

There is always one rule for thee and another for ye. The Police know this, and, when done correctly, it works out just fine. It also works out just fine for those of us who choose not to be offended and pissed off by it, but exploit it. If you’re on the neurodivergent spectrum, it’s a bloody beautiful, bountiful gift. Those who lean into the autistic end of this spectrum get special cards – with a little instructions booklet – to carry around. When Police approach them for a random stop, they hand over this card and the Police have to read it.

“Do you understand why we have stopped you?”

“No!”

“Oh right, on you go then.”

That’s almost literally how it works.

That may piss you right off, but for me, that’s part of the game. We have to make certain allowances for certain people, otherwise we’re constantly fighting needless, losing battles (and life’s hard enough). Your racist gran, your sexist cousin, your neighbour with Tourette’s, disabled drivers who can park bloody anywhere they please because they’re armed with a Blue Badge.

If Police see a group of hooded youths in the ends, searching them is usually a good idea based on the law of averages. It makes sense. Some gangs are usually up to no good; this is why being selective can stop Police from wasting their time searching a gang of Girl Guides hanging around town (That’s a top tip for your drug running empire, by the way). What doesn’t work is when it doesn’t make sense.

When Police see one group of hooded Lithuanians and one group of hooded Tamils, why would they only choose to search the Lithuanians unless they had a reputation for criminality and violence? Two-tier policing is what Angela from Grimsby will be bashing into her smart phone keypad. Angela is most likely a moron, but she’s right. Most young men are up to some sort of criminality and violence, this is Britain for fuck sake. Do you think all the mothers of young black boys who’ve been stabbed and shot over the decades give a shit about targeting their precious little darlings on the streets for a quick stop and search?

Two-tiers can work when done right, but they’re so often done wrong.

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One time I was listening to rantings of a young man who had been told to remove his hood whilst inside a shopping centre by security. He made a point to the security, “what if I was wearing a burka?” This is a valid point to a degree, aside from the fact he was in the group of 14-23 year-old males (the most likely to be naughty demographic in Britain). This gets lost on people. What also gets lost is that covering your face in a shop is also a strong red flag for criminality.

Allowing Muslim women to wear face coverings is a silly idea; unless your actively encouraging security guards and police to grab their crotch to make sure, you don’t really know who the fuck is under there. And, as mentioned before, exploiting the system is the gift we must use in our daily gratitude practice. There is nothing stopping anyone from exploiting the burka and niqab exemption. Hell, I use to work in a call centre as a young man where you were forbidden from using your mobile phone during working hours, except Muslim girls in full covering – they could get away with it because of their religiously-exempt disguise. These cultural and religious exemptions are – quite frankly my dear – silly. This is why Sikh men can walk around your neighbourhoods and high streets with actual-fucking-swords.

The Sikhs have always been a success story of integration in multicultural Britain. They rarely cause news-worthy problems, and they’re generally lovely. But they do legally carry swords. I always thought two-tier-type policing was for Muslims as they had such a reputation for being overly sensitive. It made sense. You don’t want to be picking on people – and allowing other groups to antagonise a group of humans – who have tendencies to behead people, blow up children, and shoot up crowds over amusing limericks, toilet graffiti, and memes found in builder’s WhatsApp group chats. But I was wrong about that.

Exemptions and two-tier policies are bloody everywhere, and it pisses people off. One group can cover their face, one group can have separate hospital wards to others, one group can carry murder weapons. I often feel I shouldn’t have to explain the problem with one particular group being allowed to carry a sword when all other groups can receive mandatory multiple-year sentences for the same practice – but apparently I do.

The general unwashed public must have had all critical thinking kicked and punched out of their bodies by the crumbing education system. They may say it’s about intent, but who knows or can prove intent half the time? I carried weapons due to fear. Some carry weapons to commit crime. Some just think it goes with their outfit. Do I feel safe seeing some who is clearly a Sikh carrying a sword as opposed to old Dave from Wetherspoons? I don’t like police being allowed guns that are illegal for us to even own. If you say “but that’s the police and…” Shut up. You too suffer from the crippling affliction of lack of thinking.

When the one rule of them and another for us is done due to reasons that don’t make sense, everything tears apart, and your average citizen refuses to even question it.

“Incest is disgusting, except for Pakistani Muslims because it’s their culture.”

“Telling women how to dress is coercive abuse, and should be a crime, except for that lot from the hot country because it’s part of their culture.”

And on it goes. Apparently as long as your culture demands it, it’s ok. Or is it? Do Filipino immigrants have kids at 12 like they do back home? Do you think the Ayoreo people of Paraguay would be allowed to practice their ancient tradition of infanticide if they relocated to Basildon? Would Indonesian Toraja people be allowed to dig up their dead relatives every three years and give them a makeover? If kissing your cousin gets you banged up, bang everyone up. If coercive abuse is telling your wife what to wear, bang them up. If carrying a knife or sword without a valid reason gets you 4 years in the slammer, bang them up. Just because your religion or culture says it’s a valid reason doesn’t fly in most countries, their people won’t put up with it and their governments agree. And that’s part of our problem.

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The UK is so incredibly liberal when it comes to foreign cultures and yet so incredibly socially conservative when it comes to their own – and we’re also condescending tossers.

“It’s fine for a savage from a nutter country to kiss their underage cousin as they don’t know any better, we best let them do as they wish, poor things.”

My conspiracy brain says this is by design to keep us divided and never united to overthrow the idiots in charge. My other brain – the one that doesn’t think I should throw the Alexa device in the river – thinks our lawmakers are incompetent, low-quality batty-bandits with zero backbone. Both brains are correct to a degree, but it doesn’t matter why: something just needs to be done.

Right now the middle classes – the ones who historically lead the charge for violent uprisings – have had enough of this crap. They shouldn’t care about intentions when intentions are silly. They will vote for Farage. He will win. They will then see he’s too wishy-washy. Then the streets will burn and a figure who makes Tommy Robinson look like Gary Linekar will emerge, and then we’re really fucked – two-tier policing will evolve into something even nastier.

The hardline is popular in other countries: ‘respect our culture and abide by our rules or fuck off’ is perfectly acceptable in many countries I have lived in and visited – they look at us like we’re the nutters.

I like that we’re welcoming, but not that we’ve turned into incredibly naïve mugs. That’s not the wave.

If I had my way, we’d become honest anarchists. We would admit that hard segregation is a good idea: there have been areas you just shouldn’t go to for hundreds of years in this nation, so just build a big wall around them and quit the embarrassing denial. It’s not nice, but it makes sense. If you want cousin kissing to be left alone because one community is well into it, then let them do it away from those who find it icky. You do you, I’ll do me. But don’t go around thinking one rule them and another for us creates a harmonious society when one side doesn’t get it or it doesn’t make sense.

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I didn’t bother looking into it on the usual socials – I’ve bloody had enough. I can predict their rhetoric and confirm my predictions without even bothering to find evidence; this is our current reality. Instead of being humbled and astounded by taking in how small our world really is, putting things into perspective, and letting go of our petty squabbles and worries, we are adamant to live in a state dictated by perpetual brain sludge. This is why I don’t join any group, and this is why I am sad; I could do with being part of some clan that has one, united higher purpose.

Having spent almost two decades in the dirt of hard drugs, criminality and whoring, I found peace with the divine mysticism of the universe, a place I inhabit alone. I’ve tried to get down with ideologies and religions to find some common cause that could help bring balance and discipline into my world, but I’ve always found they – one way or another – funnel you into abject lunacy.

In my childhood I was into spiritualism and witchcraft and paganism. When I decided to stop drug dealing and try out being a working man, I found myself so disgusted by the life and how I was treated by the spunk-guzzlers in charge that I turned to communism. Silly idea. It only took one night spent high as hell thinking it through to realise how silly it was and why it just can’t work. As I dug into understanding the communist mindset, it became clear: they’re just a cult of player haters – the world’s most popular loser squad. They hated innovators, artists, and, as always, Jews. They murdered their way to gaining, and maintaining, power. They also starved people to death and executed people who wore glasses because, you know, the chess club kids were a threat to all hard-working, working men. I binned that off.

Later in life, as I navigated away from my life of grime, I saw some of my fellow grimers turning to Christianity. Some found it in jail (how stereotypical do you want to be?), and many others found it through Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous. Good for them.

As an ever-curious soul, I dug deep into the benefits of being devoutly religious, and it was like looking at the best self-help coaching business model of all time. Longer life spans, better rates of fighting disease, lower rates of mental health problems, less drug abuse, lower divorce rates, and higher states of happiness. The list goes on and on. Fantastic.

I would speak to those former grimers about their new religion and way of life. It would be inspiring until I found my head pounding with pain from the relentless beatings of preaching it received. They were all obsessed with me giving myself to god and that all other gods, religions and ideas were straight-up lies and nonsense. I just ain’t down with that, cupcake. These lot weren’t your average Sunday-church-going lot, with their hymns and bake sales; they were hardline Christian nutters in the ilk of Nick Griffin; eventually all conversations about the problems of the world would lead to our old pork-dodging pals, the Jews. I didn’t fancy joining a funnel into antisemitic hatred.

I thought about Islam for 6 minutes and then remembered I didn’t want to become a ginger man with a weird accent and blow up little girls at a shit concert – sorry, how tasteless and divisive. But in all seriousness, I’ve often found that Islam funnels you into the dark side more so than Christianity does. Yes, they didn’t have a Hitler or a Mao, but they have plenty of wannabe contenders, so no thanks.

Now I have travelled and lived all over this spinning village in space; I have observed and immersed myself in many different cultural and religious ways. I’ve adopted Eastern philosophy whilst ignoring the retarded parts. I’ve got down with Latin America’s mixture of indigenous wonder and Catholicism without becoming a lunatic. But what I have found is peace and motivation in what I can only describe as the spiritual, clean-living and enlightened community – sort of.

It’s hard to define the correct label for this way of life. I do hate labelling, but it can help people understand what something is, so that’s how it goes. It’s about the universal laws (power of the universe), paganism, clean eating, meditation, rituals, mindfulness, raising vibrations, yoga, tai chi, and taking hallucinogens for self-help reasons rather than getting off your tits and giggling like a madman in your local boozer.

Unlike other clans, it’s filled with all sorts of different people. Woke (I hate the term, but it’s a word that just won’t go away), red-pilled, content creators, digital nomads, traders, hippies, sex tourists, reformed drug addicts and even the worst of the worst: teachers. If you’re familiar with places like Koh Pha Ngan or Tulum or Bali, then you’ll know who I’m talking about: cringey motherfuckers, but I like the shit they’re into – to an extent, which is the problem and why I don’t hang out with them.

I love meditation and being all enlightened. I love full moons and cacao rituals. I love wondering in nature. I love vibrating to the universe and spreading joy. I’d be quite down with a group meditation but not a free-dance day party of expressive movement whilst a soap-dodger blows his didgeridoo. But this world, this wonderful way of life that’s given me so much, is full of shitheads who funnel you into nonsense just like all the others.

You have those who talk about letting go of ego yet spend their time competing with others, trying to win the game of “Who’s the most enlightened?” and expecting you to play. You have wokies who, even if they aren’t communists, spout off communist clap-trap and demand that you should too. You have performative arse-slammers who are only interested in showing a life on TikTok so they can sell you their 4-step social media funnel system course so you too can live by the beach and lick a toad’s backside in order to meet the god of your preference. And you have the red-pilled types. I like them. They hate governments and overlord-corporations. Everyone should hate and mistrust their government far more than they already do, but they’ve gone full retard. Even though they will tell you that organised religion is false and that the true god is within you and rejected all organised religions and said that no government should be trusted, they have still bought into the bullshit manufactured by these religions and governments they hate.

I noticed this from a post by someone whom I admire for how they have turned their world around, which made me realise how alone I am. They too were a grimer, snorting, shotting, fighting and fucking their way through life. They even did prison time and rehab and avoided becoming a hardline Christian nutter. Fantastic. But this post was their full-retard moment: the divine truth that the earth is flat. In this long post they had outlined the lie of organised religion and how God isn’t found in organised religion – fair – but went on to expose the biggest scam on earth: the round earth lie. Though organised religion isn’t 100% behind the flat earth theory, it does come from their book and hardline Christians; therefore, buying into this idea is just another hardline Christian conspiracy theory and old wives’ tale. And who is behind the flat earth lie? Probably the Jews, because it’s 2026 and that’s the default for all who have seen the light. Fuck this bollocks.

I want people to find something that guides them better in life. I don’t want people being stuck in the grime, but there doesn’t seem to be anywhere to turn without someone trying to groom you into their warped vision of the world and sell you some shit.

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Why am I lonely? Because I can’t talk to anybody anymore. Nobody has any sense. It seems that everybody lost their fucking minds a long time ago, mostly during the Kung-Flu season.

But it’s not just that; I’ve had a recent epiphany.

There’s this idea that as you get older the world seems to get more stupid, more crazy. You get tired of things. It’s true, but I don’t think it’s because the world, and the snotty simpletons that mostly inhabit it, are getting stupider and crazier, because some of us consistently pursue knowledge to grow, yet some people hit a certain peak and stop growing altogether. For those of us who keep growing, keep developing, keep being sceptical, and keep learning, we become baffled and sad by the loop of behaviour exhibited by the majority of our species.

I saw the social media video footage of that skiing chalet nightclub in the Swiss Alps that set on fire and killed around 40-plus people. Before seeing this video I was moved by the tragedy; however, after seeing it, I feel nothing. When you have watched the video footage, which was taken by one of the patrons that night, you will notice that as the ceiling engulfs in flames, all of the patrons are either just videoing or watching it, and nobody is performing the basic survival manoeuvre of getting the fuck out of there. What does that say about us as a species? Well, some have commented that all these years of evolution have been pushed to the side for our addiction to social media clout and everything else that comes along with that. Yes, I agree with that observation. Yes, you can say we got stupider. But have we actually gotten stupider? I’ve been unable to answer this question, and I’m so sad.

If we have become a stupider species, what is the point in history where our intelligence peaked? I can’t see it! Because the more I listen to people, and the more I learn about history, the more I realise that everyone’s got the same stupid regurgitated idea that people have had for hundreds, and sometimes thousands, of years.

Our species are incapable of not repeating the same bullshit over and over again and repeating the same mistakes over and over again; when exactly was this peak of intelligence? Was there a special week in history when we stopped being flat-out eejits and became oh-so enlightened? I fucking doubt it, Sherlock!

I look back to the 19th century, when the Industrial Revolution reached its peak. During this time we went from below 10% literacy rates to over 90% literacy rates within a hundred years. Mix that up with the rapid innovations of printing press technology, and we are able to consume more information in one day than we had done in a lifetime before that. Roll on to today, where we get so much information bombarded at us—whether it’s true, half true, completely false or slightly false. It makes sense to believe that our access to information that was fuelled by the industrial revolution would have made us much more intelligent because of how much more information we have been able to access. But I don’t think it’s made us any more intelligent; I think it’s only made us crazier rather than cleverer. If we were getting smarter, we’d reject silly old ideas because we’d spend time thinking, and gathering, and observing, and coming to better conclusions. But most don’t. Most spend their time regurgitating bonkers and debunked ideas that have been around for decades or centuries or millennia: climate change, flat earth, the Illuminati.

Just look at the other latest international news incident: the audacious seizure of Nicholas Maduro—Donald Trump does love to begin his new year with a proper bang! Within minutes on various social platforms, the obvious conclusion by the most obvious people in the most obvious way, because everything is so obvious and predictable, is that this is because of the Jews. But of course it is. The Jews have now replaced the previous culprit of climate change. Are you scoffing at that idea? Don’t be so rash—you know that some lunatic would blame climate change for Maduro’s current predicament somehow, and it’d be convincing enough for enough eejits to take to the streets and demand we destroy all oil refineries.

It doesn’t help that Maduro, and his lunatic predecessor Chavez, have often babbled on about the same Jewish conspiracies in the past, so their unenlightened champions would draw that conclusion. But everyone else? That’s just where people are at right now—the ancient blame game for those who don’t like taking any responsibility for their own miserable mistakes. The Jewish bogeyman is as old as it gets, and all the wannabe conspiracy heads all follow the same road, and that road always leads to Rome, where everything is closed on a Friday night. It feels new and daring for many people, but it’s really out-of-date. But we’ve not made any progress from having access to information; we’re all stuck spouting the same shite they did in one hundred and two hundred and three hundred and… you get it. So when was it we peaked? We didn’t. We, as I mentioned earlier, just mutated.

And this is what depresses me. I can’t have a conversation with anybody anymore because they just say exactly the same things. In fact, I know what they’re going to say before they’ve even opened their mouth. Maybe I’m in the wrong profession. Maybe I should pursue a career in being a psychic.

Not being able to have a sensible, unpredictable conversation is ruining everything. We’ve reached the point now where just any conversation about any international event, such as the most recent one, just goes in one or two predictable directions. None of these conspiracy theories or ideas are new. It’s just all the idiots think they’re new because they’ve all got access to too much stuff. And that’s the only thing I can take away from a whole year, just 5 days in!

I think we fooled ourselves into believing we’re more advanced. More people have access to bigger words, and therefore suddenly we’re an intelligent species. I don’t think we are. And it depresses me.

It depresses me because I travel a lot. I know that the guy who’s in charge of weighing all the luggage and making sure that it doesn’t go above the correct weight to keep us safe from flying watches Candace Owens and considers her to be a very enlightened human being. Yeah, I know the pilot, the man that flies the plane, has been watching a lot of TikTok videos and thinks there are 92 genders and that a man can have a baby, and he never questions that. I know that the stewardess, who’s heating up the food that I’m going to get served, which should be served at the correct temperature in order for me to not get a bit sick, believes General Pinochet was taken out under the orders of the Jewish cabal. I know that the person who’s going to be sat next to me and has to share this long-haul flight with me is reposting social media reports on Amazon having secret compartments at their warehouses that hold children to be used for adrenochrome extraction. I know this.

The only thing I can say in summary of 2025 is the same thing I’m going to say about 2026. Because I can predict the future. I’m a psychic now. It’s going to just be a load of fucking nonsense. And I’ve got to put up with these people.

I don’t even know where to go, who to talk to, or what to do anymore. And here I am, all alone.

It got the eyes rolling and got me thinking, and this gave me a simple conclusion: what the fuck is she, and other bargain-bin thinkers, prattling on about? It’s not just bags-of-spanners feminist bore-hounds like Caitlan who constantly yap about this topic; there are lukewarm takes from all over the ideological spectrum. The general consensus is Andrew Tate is a problem because there is a void for male role models and he filled it. No, there isn’t! Because last time I checked, all men weren’t dead from a massive war—that hasn’t happened for a very long time.

What they think is simple: we all need famous, celebrity role models to look up to in order to be decent people. When did this become an essential part of personal and social development exactly? Moran went on to demonstrate all the allegedly wonderful and abundant role models for women: writers, singers, actresses, and social media influencers old birds approve of. But us cock-swinging apes? We just have Andrew Tate and the Fresh n Fit numpties, apparently. Nonsense. If you make a pound-for-pound comparison of famous male and female role models, you will end up with a well-balanced spreadsheet of the equally good and shit, but hardly great.

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Take—fuck it—Moran herself. What has she inspired? This middling-aged, middle-of-the-road author and columnist who most likely prances around in her cringing floral pyjamas, singing along to The Buzzcocks whilst drinking fruit tea – is she the role model that the ladies of Gen Z and Alpha desperately need? If you read just three pages of one of her books in the toilet, you will only be inspired to jump up, run to the garden, and start a bonfire. Madonna is a pop-culture icon, but are young women supposed to look up to a granny who dry-humps electric guitars on stage and mouths off about sucking man-pipe before launching into some tirade about voting? Is Taylor Swift the role model our daughters—I don’t have one, but you get the point—should take a leaf of knowledge from? This is a woman who oozes so much corporate safety it makes a sleazy PR man from Pfizer look like a Woodstock attendee with flowers in his hair and constantly dives into bad relationships in order to get inspiration to make songs for Pilates class playlists; is she the one? Or how about Beyoncé? A woman who used the symbolism of Malcolm X to sell pickup trucks and napalm manufacturers at the Super Bowl – is she the inspiration for all little princesses? No! Hillary Clinton, the arch-priestess of corporate evil? Do I need to answer that one?

Caitlan Moran made some observations about how there isn’t a men’s section in bookshops and thought it was sad because they need it. It’s because if they did make one, some lunatic like Caitlan would most likely call for the shop to be firebombed! I know the apparent men’s march they organised one time was a bit of a troll, but still, look how they reacted to the mere idea of it. In the UK, men used to have men’s magazines, or Lads Mags, as they are known by the common people. They got rid of them because apparently it’s wrong to enjoy looking at tits and bums, unless you’re a simp, I suppose. I don’t really remember much advice that came from those magazines, but I do remember Lucy Pinder’s tits, and they were truly inspirational. To people of Caitlan’s ilk, Lads Mags were destructive for the minds of young boys, and I guess there is a slight point about objectification, but they were no way near as destructive as the magazines aimed at teenage girls, some of which Caitlan may have read as a Gen X teen herself.

I had older sisters; they read these magazines. Mizz, Just Seventeen, Bliss and Sugar. I would sneak a peek at these magazines, and my mind was blown wide open—they appeared to have the sole purpose of teaching girls how to be sluts.

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I am being a little hyperbolic, but not that much. From the pages of these teen girl rags, I learnt how to pleasure a man with hand, tongue and breasts. I learnt how to maintain good posture whilst in reverse cowgirl. I learnt how to not get pink-socked during anal sex. Looking back at the 90s and the age of satanic panic aimed at Marilyn Manson and the like, I am baffled that the moralising finger-waggers of the hardline Christian right didn’t call for these magazines to be burnt! There’s always been a double standard about men’s stuff, and there’s always been rhetoric about men not being given advice about how to conduct themselves with a lady and why they shouldn’t objectify them. So ban Lads Mags but don’t have age restrictions on Instagram girls shaking their backsides on every reel they can! Got it. Good one.

Women have fantastic role models on Instagram and beyond. Get your arse out, set up an OnlyFans, and tell yourself you're empowered. Oh, and gobble Sheikh dick for a free weekend in Dubai. This terrible advice from so-called role models for young girls has been around since I was a handsome small boy. This advice is given because men are horny creatures who are capable of incredible greatness but often get unstuck because of their penis. Women know this and have been taught to exploit this for all sorts of gains by these role models and pieces of literature, and it’s quite amusing to hear women complain about being treated like meat when they’ve marketed themselves as meat. Their shitty role models are the reason for that, not Andrew Tate.

Do you think young Black boys in council estates shoot and stab each other because of Andrew Tate? If you do, get in the bin. What’s the problem there? Do they not have suitable celebrity role models? In the 90s they didn’t have too many, but look at them now! The UK has an abundance of successful Black men doing all kinds of things. So why are these naughty little buggers still shooting and stabbing? Because Stormzy and Wiley told them to? No. They need role models in the family and the community; we all do.

We all need to stop looking to popular culture and celebrity for role models. We already have them; they are mothers and fathers. If you don’t have those, then find some in the community, and if you don’t have a good community, find one and take down the government for ruining them—a story for another time. Our culture is obsessed with celebrity idol worship, and it’s the reason why Kanye West feels empowered to spout off his nonsense at every opportunity. Fuck him and Caitlan Moran. I don’t need advice from cat ladies and mean feminists, and I don’t want advice from bald men with Mark Morrison-style transatlantic accents. You don’t need it, and neither do they, youngsters. These cat ladies didn’t have any good celebrity role models, and neither did I.

The war—because everything is a war now—over porn and sex work has been dominated by the topic of OnlyFans and its copycats and two 6-out-of-10s from England named Lilly Philips and Bonnie Blue. These broads' antics have gotten many hardline finger-waggers' knickers in a death twist. They are like the Ronaldo and Messi of ingesting man-snake, each trying to outdo each other on the scoreboard; at the rate they’re going, one of them will be banging 10,000 gipsies in 23 hours by Boxing Day 2025. How disgusting!

And it is pretty gross. I have tallied up a year’s body count before and been quite disgusted by myself. But why? Why am I disgusted? Is it what I think or what I’ve been told? If I was shut off from the online world, I would just have a smile on my face. But then again, I didn’t bang that many broads in a single day; that would be quite sloppy and icky. There is a balance to these things, you know!

What I think about Bonnie Blue and Lilly Philips is, er, hmm… I don’t really have much of an opinion, to be honest, but I’ve heard a fucking shit tonne of them! My initial thoughts are of pride because the two most talked-about porn stars on planet Earth are British, and a win is a fucking win. I don’t care or women’s football, but if they won the World Cup against Germany, I’d go on an all-week bender and finger blast 20 hookers with a crack pipe stuffed up my left nostril!

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The opinions of Bonnie Blue range from dimwit to child groomer—groomer is fast becoming the new Nazi and Fascist and quite devoid of real meaning now—and Lily Phillips is apparently damaged by childhood abuse and trauma or something. There are always opinions like this of women who choose porn and sex work as a means to an—and sometimes incredibly lucrative—end. These ideas get spewed out by hardline Christian types and blue-haired hardline leftist loons alike—they are the most unlikely bedfellows. Their worldview is simple: women don’t like sex! The loony right thinks women only want to produce baby after baby until they have enough kids to man a Chinese iPhone factory, and the loon-bag left thinks women only want to fill the void left in them by the absence of their childhood abuser or something like that. I’m so tired of these opinions that I want to donate money to both these broads out of pure spite.

It takes many types of folk to make a world, and there are many different types of women. Take the big money or prospect of big money, and there will definitely not be that many women partaking in sex work and porn, but we will be left with those who love sex, love exhibitionism and a few broken souls. That’s the world.

The way these finger waggers harp on is as if this is the end of days and nothing like this has been seen before. Bollocks! Annabel Chong set the record for getting railed by multiple dudes back in the late 90s. I believe the main issue the finger waggers have is Bonnie Blue and Lilly Philip’s—plus OnlyFans—has become way more adopted by the mainstream. Sort of. Annabel Chong’s record was widely publicised by certain newspapers, but the condemnation wasn’t as much—unlike today. The biggest reason Bonnie Blue and Lilly Phillips are so well known is because in today’s alleged marketplace of ideas, opinions of outrage are priceless. They know these finger waggers won’t be able to control themselves and jump on a hate and virtue bandwagon, thus propelling these ladies further into the centre of the limelight. They are mainstream because these doughnuts can’t help but blast their two-bit opinions about them—they have no self-restraint, which is incredibly ironic, as having self-restraint over sex is one of their core messages. If these commentators think these broads are a problem, then they need to stop talking about them—that’s how you kill the monster. But no, they won’t be doing that, because outrage pays their bills, much like ejaculating dicks pay for Lilly and Bonnie's electricity.

What finger waggers do is misunderstand how fun fun is! Sex is fun. Hookers are fun. Porn can be fun. Threesomes, tit-wanks, blowers, spanking and role-play (except that weird incest role-play, which belongs in Satan’s dumpster) are all great. I bloody love it. Before marriage and gods and all that lark, we were all just hunting, eating and fucking. Is sex with multiple people a problem? Yes, it can be, but also hardline religion can be a problem—ask the Jews, the New Yorkers, the Londoners and all the Christians in Syria. Sex has not done as much damage as hardline religion has. Sex has not done as much damage as hardline leftism has. And as a bonus point, sex with a Taylor Swift fan is nowhere near as boring as these finger waggers. There is a problem with porn, though, rather than sex work—it's the access, abundance and availability.

In Thailand there is a “city of sin” called Pattaya. If you have ever visited this place, you will understand; if you haven’t, it will be quite difficult to comprehend. Sex is on offer everywhere—and I do mean everywhere. If you wanted to stay celibate in Pattaya, you would have to lock your door and live like it was the harshest kind of Covid lockdown imaginable—like the one I endured in Vietnam. You can’t even walk to a local 7-Eleven without being offered a blow job, because almost every female and a fair few males are on the game. Teachers, estate agents, chimney sweeps, whoever you can think of, are all touting sex for cash—it’s beyond mental. One of the best things about countries like Thailand is the quality and affordability of deep tissue massage. In England this would cost you £60+ for an hour's session, whereas in Thailand £60 would get you about 6 hours! Yet in Pattaya, even in the most respectable-looking—and Google-rated—establishments, you find yourself having to push a hand away from your penis, regardless of how old the lady or even man is. The internet and social media such as Instagram have become Pattaya. Sex is everywhere and way too easy to consume. Hundreds of thousands of Instagram influencers follow the same sales funnel from Instagram to OnlyFans. And if you can’t pay for that, no problem, because there is an abundance of free pornography sites with slack age restriction protocols to choose from, and on these sites is every single imaginable “delight”. This is the real problem.

Internet porn, like Pattaya, has the local Chinese restaurant problem—too many fucking options—but unlike a local Chinese takeaway, it’s way easier to place an order. When I was a horny teenager, if you wanted mad-filthy porn, you’d have to go to a specific shop in a specific part of town to get it—and it cost a bloody fortune! But not only that, you’d have to count on either looking old enough to buy it or that the person working in there didn’t give a shit. It was a quest! I can recall entering a sex shop in Soho back in the day when I was 15. I was in search of big tits and bums, and that was it—hardcore porn has never interested me. I selected what I wanted, but the fat-bearded pudding cake of an owner tried to upsell. He told me he had some “really good stuff” in the back! I was intrigued, so I had a look. From a grubby locked cupboard he pulled out a blank VHS cassette, containing footage which couldn’t have been any longer than 20 minutes—you could tell by looking at the reels of tape back in case you are young and silly. He told me that this was from Europe and really extreme stuff—practically illegal—and it could be all mine for £30! Now adjust that for inflation! Now imagine that the extreme nature of the video probably pales in comparison with step-daddy strap-on porn you’ll find for free on Pornhub! Porn has no value, and it’s too easy, and that can warp your brain. But OnlyFans and Fansly and so on do have value, and that is part of the problem too: the simp culture. There is some weird new angle where men feel connected to these broads, which makes it exploitative for consumers. For that reason, I truly care not for the opinion of righteous finger waggers! I want someone else’s insight, insight that’s useful.

Marketing and behavioural scientists are who I want to hear from. They can provide useful knowledge about how this OnlyFans system works and how people can avoid blowing all their savings on used knickers from a half-wit living in Bolton. They know this stuff; finger waggers only know how to judge things they have no experience in—they only know how to read engagement metrics and keep on yapping. Religion, like Islam, for example, can be very useful for guidance in self-control. I know I need some self-control when it comes to wobbling female flesh! And that’s all I want from them: give me tips and insight; do not give me moral lectures so you can funnel me into your cults. Half the time all finger waggers want to do is blame the things they hate on their pre-determined list of enemies: the right, the left, the Jews, Islam, the Catholics, the atheists, whoever it is. I am not interested in your agenda, and I do not care about two broads banging loads of men.

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“Andrew Tate is a misogynist terrorist.”

Such fun times we live in! I have delved into the world of the manosphere before and said that it’s about as dangerous as a teenage girl posting eye-rolling inspirational quotes, but I’m not trying to sell a message or appease my voter base – what I believe doesn’t matter. This politician was playing the game with the tools everyone else plays the game with. The game is attention and conversion. The tools are keywords and hyperbole.

Most online discourse and news is just a splurge of SEO-friendly keywords. If you’re unfamiliar with SEO, a quick guide:

SEO is search engine optimisation. It’s a practice to get your content or website or whatever to rank on search engines and in social media platforms. There are many methods, but the key method has always been keywords. In the world of online discourse, these keywords are buzzwords, and they get overused without a single thought by every Tom, Dick and Harriet on this spinning ball of water, fire and gas. They are so overused that everyone sounds like a budget SEO copywriter from Bangladesh you’d hire off of Fiverr for £4.76 in 2017.

You see, SEO has changed. In the old days you’d just cram as many of the keywords as possible into your copy. Not to convey a clear message. Not to provide a good experience for the reader. No. It was done just to rank better and get more attention.

You probably know the keywords (buzzwords) that have been overused during the last decade, but fuck it, here’s a list of some top bangers because I love lists!

· Nazi

· Fascist

· Snowflake

· Woke

· Misogyny

· Far right

· Alt right

· Incel

· Diversity

This list alone might make this post rank higher than any post I ever wrote, and maybe that’s why I’m writing it, because I want my work to get attention as much as the next man/woman/it/they/them/thing.

These buzzwords are used by NPCs (another buzzword) and politicians without any self-awareness or critical thinking – or are they? NPCs just spout them off to get attention from the crowd they so desperately want to be accepted by, but politicians do it with the calculation of a marketing wizard—even if it seems like they have no idea what they’re talking about.

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Politicians are fed these buzzwords and spew them out again because their voter base uses them. It’s a simple echoing system. In order to sell the crap you’re selling, you need to speak in the voice of the target consumer, and they do this all the time. It doesn’t matter for piss if they know what they’re talking about or not, because they just need to grab attention. Some doughnut from some boring town hears some bloated gimp yell out a diatribe of SEO keyword soup:

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This, as they say, is not rocket science—it’s bloody easy. Sometimes on my X account I will simply write a keyword-soup post using the top 5 trending topics. There is no context, there is not coherence, but these posts get more impressions than anything poignant or entertaining I ever wrote ever has—sometimes they’ll even get likes!

That politician on BBC Question Time probably wasn’t even answering a question about Andrew Tate. He probably just said his name because it’s always a trending topic. He probably wasn’t even asked a question about misogyny or terrorism and was merely providing one of many pre-programmed responses to get a little clap from the audience—and he did. That’s the beauty of shows like BBC Question Time; you get instant feedback to show whether your keyword game is working. But the secret to a great keyword game is to combine it with the one technique that works the very best on the internet: hyperbole.

You need to get a strong emotional reaction in order to get engagement and sell your nonsense; hyperbole is great for this. You can’t sell sandwiches by telling people, “They taste alright!” No, idiot, you need to say, “This tastes so good that my balls swelled up and spat gunk out of my love tube all over my underpants!” That’s how you sell a bloody sandwich! You can’t sell a bill that essentially allows the government to monitor your every move through spying on your face through your phone camera whilst you do a toilet by telling people, “There are some terrorists in the world!” No, you bog-eyed half-wit, you tell them, “Every male between 14 and 18 is a misogynist terrorist who’ll murder your wives, mothers and daughters!”

People get very confused and all-so-very conspiratorial when politicians and media outlets push a narrative. They think it’s all a ruse! Covid is a prime example because it was touted as the new Black Death when, in reality, it was less dangerous than the effects of a Happy Meal. But, for example, the NHS can’t sell the idea they need extra funding by telling you, “We’ve got a few extra people coming in with the sniffles!” No, you silly goose, they needed to tell everyone, “Millions are dying. Four-year-olds are spewing up blood. The fittest, healthiest men and women and they/them/it/thing/what?’s are dropping dead from coughing too much!”

During that time I recall seeing what the NHS and media babbled on about—which was that it was so incredibly oh-so deadly—and comparing it to the advice on the government website: if you think you have covid-19, drink water, stay indoors, and take a nap! This did seem like a wild conspiracy where the truth was right there in your face, but actually it was just too many hyperbolic voices trying to sell something. Every fuckwit on earth jumped onto the trend to try and find an angle that worked for them, and it made the world an embarrassing mess.

The main reason we appear to be so divided is because of our overuse of hyperbole and need for attention.

Don’t like Brexit? Then say, “Brexit will conjure up Hitler’s ghost, and he’ll stalk your children in their dreams!”

Don’t like the Clintons? Then say, “Hilary drinks the blood of children with a chaser of their parents tears!”

Don’t like the new recipe for Dairy Milk chocolate? Then say, “Dairy Milk makes you spew up blood!”

Now these examples may look like flat-out lies, but there’s some truth in there, and that’s all you need. If it sounds just even mildly true, run with it. People are selling dreams and nightmares, and everyone buys them.

Andrew Tate could be considered a misogynist. He could be considered a terrorist if you are able to perform the mental gymnastics (another buzz term) to get there. Shall we try?

Terrorist as a noun or adjective is the use of unlawful violence and intimidation, especially against civilians, in the pursuit of political aims. In today’s world, words can be violence. Anyone’s words can offend and therefore be violent. I hate Red Bull, and even the mere mention of it offends me; thus, I am often the victim of violence. Andrew Tate says stuff in public spheres that people think is offensive and therefore violent. Andrew Tate often wades into political discourse. Andrew Tate can be a terrorist! It’s nonsense, it’s hyperbole, but it sells.

The average NPC type uses hyperbole to sell too. They’re selling themselves because in the internet age the need for attention is at an all-time high. This is why you get some bearded guy named Baz from Aldershot prancing around in a dress, shaking his willy at children in a park, and crying discrimination when some local men slap him round the face. “I’m a victim of discrimination!” Calm down, Baz! You got checked for being weird.

This isn’t exclusive to NPCs because we’ve all done it. The reason most people struggle to get NHS appointments and end up dead is because they didn’t utilise the power of hyperbole. You don’t have a mild stomach ache; you have daggers stabbing you from the inside out and think you just threw up an organ! Trust me, this does work.

Hyperbole, buzzwords and general sensationalism are nothing new; they’ve been around since we learnt how to get attention when we didn’t need it. Reality feels like everything is a lie and you can’t trust what anyone says, but that’s a negative attitude. Everything must be taken with a pinch of salt because everyone is selling something—once you accept that, you can be at peace and not worry. Hyperbole crashes stock prices, starts wars and gets people laid. It's how the world works. Just remember that and be at peace.

However, we must be mindful. We must not let it cloud judgement. One day there may actually be a super-killer-virus pandemic, and we’ll all ignore the warnings because we understand the game of keywords and hyperbole. This is where we enter the climax of The Boy Who Cried Wolf—we’ve been sold too much nonsense and won’t believe in it again, and that’s when it’s too late. However, we have a fail-safe mechanism that will save us from that—the NPCs of earth. They are incapable of learning anything new and especially learning from their mistakes; therefore, they will be compliant enough to make sure we all get locked down again and injected with weird poison.

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I have big, breaking-news: it’s not. The Manosphere are grooming men to become neo-1950s husbands.

The security services have been selling us this story for a long time—the far right is dangerous, and the far right is made up misogynist supremacists who are all going to stab us to death and blow us up, whilst spouting off quotes from Marcus Aurelius and yelling random SEO buzzwords phrases like “escape the matrix!”

The most fun angle of this rhetoric is the idea of incels and misogynists being terrorists, even though most people have no idea what an incel actually is. This modern bogeyman that’s supposed to replace the Islamic-bogeyman—who is also, conveniently, the bogeyman of choice for the far-right—is as hilarious as it preposterous.

You can test how hilarious and preposterous it is with the following experiment:

Go into your closest café, pub or place of chitchat and make the following statement out loud with a serious look on your face:

Andrew Tate is the 2020s equivalent of Osama bin Laden.

You will become the new village idiot. If this is a position you’ve desire for some time, then this is an ideal way to achieve it. I it’s not, prepare to tell everyone that what you did was an experiment, leave, and move on with your life.

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We must not forget that the online world—and the world manufactured by a legacy media that’s often in cahoots with spy agencies and government—is a hyperbolic fever-dream version of reality—we ought not to go around spouting off it’s wild ideas, this is how we end up looking like nutters.

If you enter the search term Manosphere into Substack itself, you will find yourself having to trawl through the hysterical and the sensational. Posts that drone on about the same nonsense as MI6 and the CIA, telling you that this is the biggest threat to mankind since Franklin D. Roosevelt’s physics experiment in the 1940s.

All these articles use the same buzz words—incel, misogyny, supremacy, patriarchy, danger. They all say the same thing written by the same people who are obsessed with the patriarchy and are intent on turning men to soft puss-oozing blobs .

These people, and the spy agencies, have no clue about the social media stars—and all their copycats—of The Manosphere; if they did, then they wouldn’t be saying such wild, hyperbole with such a straight face.

The truth about The Manosphere is they’ll spew the same, dull ideas and advice all day, every day:

• Build muscle

• Don’t watch porn

• Get married and have children

• Don’t have sex with slags

• Read the Bible

• Find a Christian virgin between the ages of 19 and 25 who can cook using exclusively paleo ingredients and wants twenty kids

• Disappear for a year and become a millionaire entrepreneur

• Don’t drink alcohol or do drugs

• Read the bible again whilst bench pressing all of your online course earnings

To summarise the goal of their alleged grooming, they basically want men to become a 1950s Conservative man, but one who owns a yacht, bulging biceps and sells online courses on how to be manly. How dangerous and radical!

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Last time I checked, 1950s men weren’t blowing up planes and kidnapping hot Israeli twenty-year olds in the name of their god—they were mostly telling teenagers that rock n roll was the music of the devil and making crude jokes about communists.

The only danger The Manosphere poses is to make young man stay a virgins forever—good luck finding a fun girl who hasn’t smashed in a few dudes in her time, lads! I personally have had the best fun with many hot slags. I love it—you got to break a few eggs to make a wife-shaped omelette, and I always thanked god after I blew my gunk out of my lust-hose.

The men in this space are no threat to humanity, unless you consider being an insufferable killjoy a threat, and, in turn, turning young men into equally insufferable killjoys. It’s very sexy to create a bogeyman movement—it gives idiots something to talk about and idiots an excuse to create laws to oppress us. This was easily sold after 9/11, because there were naughty nutters blowing up buildings and stuff.

But this movement is nothing more than inspirational Instagram quotes injected with synthetic testosterone. And that’s what many women—and men who act like women, and the idiots who cannot prevent terrorist attacks—misunderstand: men like to get hyped up; this is similar to the way girls get hyped up by meaningless quotes. You know the ones:

I, like many other men with penises, like to listen to songs by Cam’Ron and 50 Cent. They rap about very ignorant things, being mad disrespectful to their opposition, and it makes me want to shout “Fuck yeah!”

Hearing Cam’ron rap “Stallion of the year, medallions in my ear, whips on my fists, houses on my wrists, your budget on my next, your spouse on my dick!” makes me motivated and ready to smash out some cold-calls and lead-magnate emails! We are men, we are motivated by this kind of testosterone pumping rhetoric—we are not motivated by quotes that belong on a Pinterest mood board for girl-bosses and aspiring lesbians.

This is why the appeal of Andrew Tate is easy to understand. He’s like Eminem saying outrageous things most people wish they could say and it gets young men hyped. Difference is, Andrew Tate has the ability to also strike an emotional connection that Eminem could never master. I once saw a clip of Tate talking about strong truths about breakups, and it hit was quite profound and relatable. He tapped into the feeling men get when they’re dumped—they’re rock bottom, they’re unloved and their confidence is smashed into a pile of sad mush. The solution he gave was motivating and logical—work hard on yourself and become someone she will regret leaving! This is man is not to be underestimated. If you don’t like him, fine, do a better version of what he does—this man can be learned from.

There’s nothing dangerous about motivational speeches and music, unless of course you’re a bible thumping, Koran waving, killjoy. The Manosphere, and those who’re afraid of them, are no different to the hard line Christians who were terrified of Marilyn Manson fans when they put on eyeliner and said naughty words. The difference—obviously—is that MI5 and MI6 and the CIA weren’t tapping Marilyn Manson fans phone lines. The Manosphere is made up of many insufferable virtue signallers who get condemned by other virtue signallers. It’s a massive virtue signalling convention and I am glad I was never invited.

Most men don’t want to be some pussy whipped blob, because the ideal girlfriend or wife doesn’t want that, nor do they want to be a 1950s husband, because they’re not going to find many 1950s housewives. I am tired of the hysteria around it; it’s boring and dangerous for all of us who are also tired of these tiresome, invasive laws they keep coming up with to protect us from imaginary threats.

Kurt Cobain, Layne Staley, Trent Reznor, depressive drug addicts.

“I Hate Myself and I Want to Die!” they’d scream.

“Yes! I hate myself and I want to die too!” I’d cheer.

They were all class A drug addicts; they all desperately needed to escape a reality they couldn’t accept. Most of them died from an overdose or just pro-choiced themselves off the face of the earth.

It’s no wonder I became a drug-addled fuck-up who enjoyed wallowing in my misery. Sitting in the dark, headphones on, feeling elated by gloomy music. I strived to be the complicated, depressed, deep individual that a girl wanted to save and change—and those birds are the worst!

Girls who want to save and change you—they’re terrible girlfriends. I don’t know why exactly; I just know that’s what I got, and, to my shame, I got short-changed. But what should a gloomy, eternal teenager expect? A long line of keepers! Obviously not. But this is the kind of man who’s been celebrated and worshipped since I can remember—the fucked-up artistic idol is romantic and alluring, and a million and one girls have had their posters on the wall to ensure they wake up drooling. This is kind of why I remain as an anonymous persona: I don’t want to be an idol; I want my work to be appreciated. My beautiful, filthy work.

Is the celebration and propping up of the fuck-up artist a problem? Part of me thinks it is, and part of me has serious questions about why this happened. At night—after my thoughts have wandered away from bizarre threesome fantasies involving my various terrible ex-fixers (girlfriends)—I will think about why my friends and I remain childless, unmarried goofballs. Then my mind drifts into the murk of conspiracy, and before I drift into the land of nod, my brain tells me this is all by design!

Artistic industries are dominated by the power of the idol: it’s the idol that has the strongest selling power. This is why many bands are mostly synonymous with the front man. A drummer may love the drummer in a great band, but most of the rest of the regular schlubs love the frontman or lady or whatever is in between—like Brian Molko!

This type of fucked-up idol isn’t exclusive to men; there’s Courtney Love—oh, and Amy Winehouse—but also not exclusive to rock. I was a huge DMX fan, and DMX was the epitome of the troubled man. His tough upbringing—basically an impoverished orphan, like a growling thug version of Oliver Twist!—made him an incredible musical artist and entertaining persona.

To most regular folk, DMX would just be another aggressive rapper who made some floor-filling, thugged-out bangers like “Party Up In Here” and “X Gone Give it To Ya!”, but DMX was also a deep and troubled artist. This was a man who made songs about dealing with the temptation of the devil—perhaps a reference to his long-running battle with crack addiction. He performed prayers on stage, and he’d cry, then jump into a banger about shooting guns and drinking in clubs. In your face Bono! DMX was a phenomenon; he was rap's first fucked-up rock star, like Kurt and Lane, and Chris Cornell, and Scott Weiland.

In more recent times, the fuck-up rap star idol has become a much bigger selling point; even Drake has his moments. Artists like Mac Miller, Juice Wrld, Xxxtentacion, Lil Peep, and, to an extent, Future became superstars. And all of them—except Future, who’s alive, and Xxxtentacions, who got shot—are now dead because of drug abuse. Rap is the new rock, because rock is hell-a-gay now, and it has its very own 90s fuck-up idols, but hip hop is more interesting; hip hop has always embraced conspiracy more openly.

Artists from conspiracy-head Chuck D to prancing-plum Will.I.Am have openly expressed the idea of record companies conspiring against the Black community of America. They suggest record companies may promote and push the street, gangster—and all-round negative elements—lifestyle more than anything more positive in order to feed the profitable private prison system! This could also explain why the era of the rap-fuck-up rap idol has become the norm, and overdosing on Xanax and codeine is the coolest thing on earth—it’s not cool BTW, but it is fun.

Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe it’s because record companies see what resonates and makes the most money and just go with it. That’s what happened in the 90s, unless it’s all an orchestrated effort to reduce the population by turning impressionable young men into less-than-desirable potential mating partners and future fathers. I guess believing such a conspiracy is just another way to shirk personal responsibility, but you gotta wonder! These fucks—you know who you are—are always up to some dastardly shit!

But then again, hip hop does promote something rock music never promoted—the success story of the underdog—and many underdogs who become entrepreneurs. 50 Cent, Jay-Z, Master P, and the rest are incredibly successful beyond rap. They’re hustlers who came from nothing. Strong, confident, and competent men who overcome countless obstacles to reach the highest highs. They’re not as artistically sexy as Juice Wrld or DMX or whoever else is now dead, but they are people to aspire to and look up to. These are people I admire, but not who I wanted to be like. And there’s the problem I’ve always had.

There are some regular folk—something I’ve always secretly wanted to be—who go out of their way to become weird and messed up—or at least project an image of someone who is. These try-hards have always annoyed me.

“Who wants to be like me? An insecure, self-hating escape artist who’s hell-bent on destroying himself?”

But when I evaluate myself with objective depth, I realise that I too wanted to be that; I leaned into it with force and subconsciously perpetuated it. I strived to be more fucked up than the day before, instead of striving to be someone better—someone a good, balanced woman would want. What the hell is being with a good, balanced woman like? Is it good? With that said, these fixers I claim I regret being with were always my preferred physical type, so my deathbed wank bank is thoroughly stocked—so does it really matter?

Anyway…

The person I should have idolised was my father—idolised is wrong, though; emulate and aspire to be would be better. In spite of some significant flaws, my father was someone I could always turn to. I couldn’t always rely on him, but I could rely on him trying his fucking best. When he left his mortal reality, I lost a rock that was always there for me, and I’ve felt incredibly alone ever since. This could have triggered me into going back to being the troubled man who guzzles booze, smokes crack like it’s Pringle-popping contest, and fucks anything and everything that has dark hair, large breasts and bulbus behind. But it didn’t. Such progress!

Don’t get me wrong; I still dabble, but I’m a far cry from that old me; I learnt that I wanted to be someone’s rock, and, after all, I don’t have one anymore, so I need to be my own rock. On top of that, I also know how the universe works.

The energy I put out will come back to me. The rock I want will also be looking for a rock, and our two rocks will smash together into a cosmic reaction of joyous strength. It’ll also be nice to smash our private parts together with mutual joy on a regular basis too.

Writer’s note: The economy is dependent on spending money and spreading wealth… hint hint. Thanks

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Political Football!

What exactly is this issue, and why are politicians suddenly having to talk about it? In a nutshell, there have been multiple cases where groups of mostly Asian men, who’re mostly Pakistani men, the majority of whom are Muslim, have been grooming and raping teenage white girls. Many of the girls have apparently been underage (16 in the UK), and many were what I consider to be part of the most vulnerable group in society: kids in care. These gangs have been operating right across the country for decades, such as in Rotherham, Rochdale, Telford, Bristol, and Leeds.

This whole affair seemed to start when Elon Musk was tweeting (I can’t say X-ing; it’s too odd) about EDL founder and Muslim “sceptic” Tommy Robinson’s most recent arrest for libel. That arrest was centred on comments Robinson had made about a viral video from a few calendars back of a Syrian refugee boy getting attacked by white kids. Robinson was countering the narrative of the boy's victimhood by saying he was actually a naughty boy who was abusing teenage white girls at his school. It appears Elon went down the Tommy Robinson arrest rabbit hole and found out about his last arrest for contempt of court rules. This happened outside of a courthouse in Leeds where 29 defendants were on trial for sexual grooming. Their identities were hidden at the time, but Tommy decided he’d let everyone know the truth that everyone already knew: they were all, essentially, Muslim men. It seems Elon found out about one case, then found out about all the others, then about all the suppression and denial; this clearly fired Mr. Musk right up! So much so, he started going after “beloved” British politicians like Keir Starmer and Jess Phillips.

If you have the stomach and patience to go down the rabbit hole, then go ahead. Do not look to me to provide you with all the data. Do not look to me to confirm or debunk. But look to me to tell you that when you do, you will see patterns and shocking statistics, such as estimates on Asian grooming gangs targeting 20,000-80,000 young white girls. It’s quite sordid.

Will you find exaggeration? No doubt. Will you find downplaying? No doubt. Will you find flat-out denial? No doubt. Will it look like this is a huge open secret littered with cover-ups and incompetence? Oh yes. This isn’t the first time our nation has seen a cover-up of outrageous levels of sexual abuse scandals; our nation has consistent form in this arena. Just look up Operation Yew Tree and see the police’s response: we “got some things wrong.” Understatements have never been so understated.

The reactions to Elon’s mudslinging have been predictably tiresome and enraging. “It’s just political football!” many cried. Marvellous! The right wing of the UK has called for an inquiry, to which their haters have said, “Why didn’t you do something when you were in power? You’re just using this for political points.” Even the great bastion of truth, the BBC, weighed in by mostly jumping on the same train and saying, “Oi! Conservatives, why are you talking about this now and not before?” Well, BBC, why are YOU talking about this now and not before? Because apparently it takes a billionaire’s boredom to get people to discuss important things.

I have enjoyed seeing people play political football by calling out others for playing political football, all the while ignoring the crucial matter at hand: Is there a widespread child and women abuse problem that needs solving? To be fair to those labelled the left, their usual lukewarm takes have been a little more original than usual. The usual responses are the tried and tested whataboutisms that follow the lines like, “Look at this pedo rape gang; they’re all white; where’s the outrage from the far right?” This is always a cute response, and one that was heavily deployed during the summer riots in the UK, and I’m not sure why they’ve gone for the political football angle instead.

Perhaps it’s because they usually do a little Google search and find the first case that suits their narrative. Perhaps they googled the cases in Rotherham or Leeds or Telford to find a quick hot take that would debunk their political enemies, only to find way too many sordid truths about these rape gangs and their victims. This is all speculation, of course, but it does appear that the only ammunition they have right now is calling out the former government for not doing anything when they were in power. This infers that they know there’s truth to the claims and that they can only use the buzzphrase of the week, political football. Perhaps political football is the only way things get done in this once great nation of Great Britain, but if Sir Keir of Starmer says he won’t open or support an inquiry, I guarantee this is one statement he won’t backtrack on for once.

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Why The Government Won’t Call for an Inquiry.

Keir Starmer didn’t get to become the leader of the UK without understanding the laws of power. He cannot have some “wacky” foreign billionaire challenge him like that. He perhaps should’ve ignored Elon, but the rioting of last summer happened, and this is the last thing he needs—though it is peak winter and nobody is in the mood to be outside for prolonged periods of time smashing stuff!

What Keir Starmer, an experienced barrister and former head of the Criminal Prosecution Service (CPS), will know is that you don’t allow anything to mess with the polite society of Britain. The party line is simple: “Don’t mention the grooming gangs!”

You see, maintaining the polite British society has become a lot trickier since 9/11. The post-9/11 world forced a huge spotlight upon the Muslim world, which revealed many uncomfortable truths and, paradoxically, also proceeded to conceal them. The truths about extremism and vast numbers of potential Jihadi terrorists were blasted from every newspaper, TV station, and whatever else you can think of for years and years and years. The roll call of naughty Muslims doing naughty things was impressive in scale. And to make matters worse, we all started to notice that a lot of people in Muslim communities had thin skin and would get very upset over quite minor things. Plays about topics they didn’t like started riots; cartoons they found offensive caused riots and mass murders. Those that serve the state to keep the streets safe—allegedly, anyway—found they had a very sticky mess to deal with due to mass immigration and a serious lack of integration: these people get triggered a lot!

So what was the solution? Let’s try to avoid that at all costs! Unfortunately for the police, politicians, and national security agencies, they didn’t count on another side of Muslim communities to be illuminated so brightly, and that was the sex-grooming gang phenomenon, and this was, and still is, a huge stinking problem.

Before 9/11 we were in a national state of hysteria over paedophilia, a phenomenon that—according to people such as Jonathan Haidt—led to the creation of the snowflake generation we have today. Parents were whipped up into a frenzy of scary time because there were apparently millions of naughty, deviant adults out there trying to lure their kids into vans with sweets and cigarettes! For them to have that fear imbedded into their brains and then topped up with the fear of Islamic extremism was all too much, so when it comes out that those naught men who were trying to lure their kids into vans in the 90s and early 2000s are disproportionately Muslim, how do you think that sits with them? How do you think the police, the politicians, and the security services deal with that? What a hideous mess. It’s like being hungover and waking up to a huge stain on the carpet, a pile of washing up in the sink, and a novella-sized text message to your ex-girlfriend! Fuck it, I’ll just go back to sleep.

Keeping the peace also relates to another value we have as good humans, which is also a huge flaw: we don’t want to persecute groups of people. We are all actually capable of being decent humans. We all have flaws, and when someone just keeps pointing out our flaws and refusing to acknowledge our strengths, it’s just out of order. Those people need a slap. But this is a problem too.

We need self-awareness. We need to acknowledge our flaws; this is the only way we can grow. The left side of the aisle has insisted on never pointing out the flaws of minority groups—but is all too happy to do it to non-minority groups. They have done this to the extent where they now just deny everything, even when it’s right in front of them and, sometimes, actually affecting their own lives. I get that they may have strong beliefs—so strong they will do whatever is necessary to make sure certain groups of people don’t get persecuted. This is noble, but it’s also become very retarded and backfired. Every human has their flaws and strengths, and so do every culture and community. All cultures are equally beautiful and ugly.

The Harsh Truths of Different Cultural Flaws

British culture, and you could say British white culture in particular, has some deeply troubling flaws. We are the cocaine-snorting capital of the world. 80% of crime is alcohol-related. We have the highest rate of teenage pregnancy in Europe. We have too many girls with awful fake tans.

I have travelled, and still do, the world. I have heard the opinions of some “filthy foreigners” about us, and, in particular, our women—they’re all slags and sluts. I’ve heard this from Swedes, Serbians, Greeks, Aussies, and other nationalities whose silly accents I couldn’t quite decipher. When I hear this, I am enraged and want to smash their faces in with a mug of tea whilst yelling, God Save The Queen (I am still unable to say King; it’s still too weird). But is there truth to this? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe our girls are just more fun. Do you think these groomers, who are Asian, who’re mostly Pakistani, who’re mostly Muslim, feel the same way? Apparently yes. And this is definitely a major flaw within their culture. They seem to think grooming and raping young white girls is fine because they’re all slags! “Where is the feminist outrage?” I hear them cry! These are thoroughly uncomfortable truths that lurk beneath all the far-right hyperbole, far-left whataboutisms, and egg-shell treading of the centre.

Are British people a little too horny? Yes. I am, and I’m old enough to know better, and I don’t care. Sex is fun; it’s perfectly natural. What isn’t fun or natural is raping and grooming vulnerable people in our society. That’s very uncool. If white girls are so up for it, then why on earth would you need to deploy despicable tactics to have sex with them? The most alarming and uncomfortable thing is that one specific group is targeting another specific group, and this makes things very messy. But, as always, because the left and the authorities have their own rules about targeting certain groups, it’s left to the apparent far-right to do something about it.

Considering everyone has been banging on about the threat of the far right for the last decade, it’s mind-bending that they’d allow them to have so much fuel and evidence to expand their influence. This is most likely due to them being completely out of touch with the modern world. They still think they can suppress information with the aid of their old friends, the mainstream media. This is an embarrassing mistake; this is not the 20^th century. Elon Musk understands the contemporary cultural landscape. He knows the media is dying; he’s helping to finish it off with death blow after death blow.

If there is an inquiry, will it change anything? Past enquiries, such as the Leveson Inquiry, possibly did more harm than good. It’s the culture that needs to change. The die-hard proponents of the polite British society need to accept that the information superhighway is too big to suppress, and they need to make a huge turn. They can’t keep trying to stop people from being upset and be more proactive with preventing the things that cause these problems, which means tackling the problems in other cultures who now call this nation home. And what’s the best way to tackle that exactly? I shudder to think.

There has to be a new approach to this situation, but no approach is going to be smooth—this is a huge mess, and one I think will only be cleaned up by a type of person most of us don’t really want. That person has not been revealed yet, but they are certainly developing somewhere. They could be a populist or a hardline Christian or maybe even from the far right—you know who they are, the 30 weirdos who did Nazi salutes in some little shitty British town 4 years ago or something.

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I kept seeing things I can only describe as clickbait gone crazy. Most of these posts featured blatant AI-generated images accompanied by somewhat blatant AI-generated copy, and with the same theme: fake movie and TV sequels and prequels.

The Mask 2

The Sopranos Prequel

The Godfather Part IV

In fact, name a sequel that you’d love to see happen, and there will be a post about it—promising that it’s happening in order to gain impressions on the filthy landscape of Facebook. Worse still is that the comments will be dominated by what are clearly AI bots saying such breeze,

“OMG! Can’t wait!”

“This is going to be epic!”

“Wow! A sequel to my favourite childhood movie. This is too good to be true!”

Clickbait has always been about hyperbole. A celebrity would say, “That new movie was OK,” which will then get turned into, “Celebrity X says the new Batman movie is the worst thing since polio!” Things being taken out of context, exaggerated, or skewed for clicks isn’t new, but these flat-out lies seem newer.

It’s disinformation but somewhat harmless as it serves no purpose other than to gain engagement. But that engagement leads to wealth generation, which in turn is kind of fraudulent. And I would argue that those who generate this content are the kind of people that AI content generation most appeals to: cash-grabbing fuckwits riding shitty trends. That’s why it’s depressing but also promising, because these feckless, faeces-spewing foolios may just help kill off the huge threat of AI, especially towards the arts, because people will inevitably grow sick of it and sick of looking stupid every time they’re trying to pre-order tickets to a movie that doesn’t exist, and so on.

AI is nothing new and shouldn’t have caught us by surprise. We have been slaves to algorithms and predicted text and chatbots for a very long time now—it’s the ChatGPT era that has gotten us all a little giddy and scared.

The last couple of years has seen the AI buzz infiltrate vast areas of our lives and stirred debate—or, more accurately, blazing arguments, because the internet and social media age has no room for debate. We speak of fear. We speak of unlimited advancement. We speak of making money from things we have no business making money from, and it’s this latter point that I think will restore balance to the universe.

Will AI take a lot of jobs? Yes. Look at what happened to the poor horsey’s when the car and the train came along. Will AI help us make more logical decisions and advance the human race to a place we perhaps don’t deserve to be? Likely. Humans are illogical because of their emotions. A bot can help us make a wiser decision, such as spending money on stocks and shares rather than hookers and blow (AI is a boring friend).

Will AI manipulate us? Maybe. And if so, I will join the movement that chants, “Death to Skynet!” But entertainment and the arts, the stuff that really inspires and helps us have a little deserved and needed escape from the everyday nonsense of this world, is the battleground where I believe AI will lose. Not because of government intervention or resistance fighters cosplaying as Jon Connor; we’ll reject AI-generated content because of three key reasons:

1. Our brains don’t like it.

2. Trends come and go—and a lot of AI services and business models are riding this wave until it crashes against the rocks of the shore.

3. Authenticity is winning—the so-called mainstream media, and the figures who rely on it to keep relevance and power, are dying mostly because of its lack of authenticity—Trump went on popular podcasts, Harris went on TV.

NOTE: This piece I write may age into putrid milk, but I’m putting it out there anyway because I have balls of titanium. Let’s go!

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Whenever I’m pondering about AI, I always recall how new, exciting technology just seems to go away or become terribly outdated, leaving a legacy of nothing, and in today's extremely narcissistic climate, a legacy of nothing just won’t cut it for most—except whores, of course, those money-grabbing, AI content-generating whores.

Look at 3D. Look at virtual reality. Look at CGI. Hell, look at Blockchain! It all either becomes terribly dated-looking or the trend fizzles out and dies.

3D comes and goes every generation. The 50s, the 80s, and two blips in the 90s (basically the sixth Nightmare On Elm Street film, Freddy’s Dead, and the Comic Relief special revival of Dr. Who) and then in the late 2000s.

The late 2000s 3D era felt like 3D was here to stay and nothing else could compete. Avatar was bigger than Black Rock; it made more money than the Saudi Royal Family, and suddenly every movie, shit or shitter, was in 3D. They even made sequels to movies no one cared about to cash in on 3D, and then before the 2010s could get into full swing, people didn’t give a shit anymore.

Since Avatar, there has been that silly Avengers movie that made more money than the entire Rothschild dynasty, and not a three-dimensional version in sight. 3D was fun at first, but like new sex, it becomes old sex, and then you pretend you have a headache.

Virtual Reality—aka VR—is another one. It had its moment in the early 90s. I remember VR rides and experiences in the Trocadero in the West End of London, some game where you were a huge fighting robot. I remember The Lawnmower Man movie that capitalised on this buzz. Did virtual reality enter the homes, and did movies become virtual reality experiences? No. Virtual reality went away, not entirely, but the lust and love of it were gone. Then it came back in the 2010s, and people were talking about VR.

“VR? What is this, the 90s?”

“No, it’s a new thing that people are getting into!”

“No, it’s not. Piss off!”

Then I saw VR experiences on the side of the street in busy tourist areas of Thailand. I would stop for a moment to watch a girl piss herself as she was held by a Thai man whilst she thought she was free-falling out of an aeroplane. That was before covid. Now, upon my return to Thailand, I do not see them anymore. Let’s also not forget the buzz around the VR world that was the Metaverse.

During 2020 and 2021, the Metaverse was everywhere. People were buying plots of virtual land inside it for millions. Where is the Metaverse now? If you told someone to invest in the Metaverse today, they’d laugh at you and make a disrespectful remark about your mother. People don’t give a shit about buying crap in the Metaverse; they’re buying dog currency and using that dog currency to buy yachts. You can certainly buy a yacht in the Metaverse, but who the fuck is impressed by a virtual yacht? Some twat that no one invites to social events, that’s who!

Then you have the Oculus headsets and other brands—a step into a completely virtual existence. This may have been cool when everyone believed that Bat-Flu was going to kill you, but now we’re all outside and smooching and drinking and fighting and snorting again; no one wants it—not even those mask enthusiasts who want the pandemic to last forever!

There was a huge buzz around VR headsets two years ago. There were countless videos of people being weird in public with their VR headsets. But have you seen any douchenugget wearing one with your own eyes in reality? I haven’t, and I’m always outside smooching and drinking and fighting and avoiding snorting. The fad seems to have passed. The fad didn’t impress the most important people in the equation: the masses.

Look at NFTs as well. I love the concept, but the digital art game has become a joke. There is no value in it. Nobody cares if you have the very first Crypto Punk; it’s very easy to just lie. Only coders will be able to verify it, and who the hell wants to lure one of those sun-dodgers into the sack? There is a huge flex with a piece of priceless art hanging on a real wall; there is no flex with your cartoon JPEG ape and your Metaverse yacht full of AI cam-girls.

Then there’s the CGI factor—more computer-generated fake reality. The issue with CGI is that it always ages a movie, the same way as green screen effects and bad miniature model sets did. Whereas practical effects and sets age with charm and character. CGI is no longer impressive. Now Tom Cruise is impressive! Tom Cruise is doing what Buster Keaton did a hundred years ago. We are craving real shit! He sells a movie by merely hanging onto the side of an aeroplane! We’ve seen that shit before; we saw it for decades. But clearly people want to be impressed by an industry that has been so fake for too long.

I remember watching Jurassic Park and not even being able to tell what was CGI and what was animatronics, which is far from the case now because CGI is in everything. That was inspiring and impressive. Now big blockbusters with CGI and overuse of colour correction look like cartoons. The only people it impresses are children (rightly so) and people who shouldn’t raise children, and judging by the box-office numbers, there’s a worrying amount of the latter.

Go watch The Lawnmower Man and the original King Kong back to back. One is charming and impressive when you let your brain think, whereas the more modern and supposedly advanced thing is a horrid, charmless, unwatchable nightmare. And that’s what we already have with AI creativity.

At first, AI art had some fucked-up charm by how odd it looked, but as it’s rapidly improved, it’s so devoid of the flaws of the human touch that it makes you sick. It’s soulless shit and, most importantly, unimpressive. Tom Cruise hanging from an aeroplane is impressive. An AI-generated video of Harry Potter set in a trailer park isn’t impressive, and it actually makes your brain feel sick. Yes! Our beautiful brains and their rogue subconscious make the wise decision that this is bad for you and you should empty your guts via your mouth into the nearest toilet as soon as possible.

They, our brains, just seem to reject the polish and sheen that technology spews onto art, and those that don’t are just NPCs anyway and are barely more sentient than a plastic brick. AI may improve, but improvement lacks the flaws that make human art interesting. It has no personality, because, like the NPC, it is influenced by many other personalities without its own take. It’s a shit friend!

My third point about authenticity is key to this. The reason someone like Trump is able to make such an impact is the idea of authenticity. I am not saying the man is authentic, but I am well aware that people believe he is authentic because of the wild shit he says. He is always out there in public without a prepared speech or a focus group note in sight—saying whatever comes into his head, whether factual or not. That’s what most people do. It appears to lack that level of calculation that turns people off. He also made a smart move by mostly rejecting mainstream media platforms and going on a press tour that didn’t involve the press! He knows the mainstream is dying. We see the mainstream dying. We love it because they’re so bloody phoney and insincere, and the podcast has become a way more authentic medium for us to consume. It is everything that the mainstream fails at, and Trump was wise to do the rounds of the top-performing podcasts as opposed to Harris doing the usual tired standard appearances. The old media model is too fake for us now. AI is adjacent to that. Its inauthentic nature reminds us of what we have recently rejected.

People appear to yearn for something more real, and I think a revolution that rejects the speed of technology and its perfections is always just around the corner, because we like to be impressed, and we also like to shit on people. AI-generated writing is crap and will remain so because, despite it getting better, it will be same-y. We will always have people who love what they do as creatives who will attack those that just cash in without much effort. We all need to be like 50 Cent!

50 Cent relentlessly went about crushing Ja Rule, and it worked. We must, and we will, because we can’t help ourselves. Crush these soulless twerps who have no personality and just pump out meaningless content over and over again for a swift payout. They don’t impress anyone, and they can only copy what others innovate, and they can’t even add a good spin onto what they copy, because most creatives get inspired and hacks just steal, and our brains know how to separate it.

The people have rejected globalism over and over again for the last 10 years or so, despite the machine and all its money and influence trying its very best to crush dissent. The humanity in us will do the same to a lot of AI, because those that want to wield it the most are a clear enemy to what we like about being human.

Globalism is a trend. 3D is a trend. AI is a trend. Being impressed by human ability and creativity is forever.

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Mr. Musk, the rocket man who owns X, is also deeply concerned. Should anyone be deeply concerned about the UK? Possibly yes, but possibly not. It’s nothing that new; it’s only just now that people decided to give a shit for whatever reason. You see, you have to understand that the UK authorities do things for specific reasons: to maintain the establishment and the polite society it controls.

Britain is the place of euphemism. Some cultures that travel or move to Britain believe that euphemisms are sly, hidden disses, when actually it’s just that we have to be polite. We will say your house is ‘cosy’ rather than small, because why offend someone? If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything, pal! It makes sense; it’s actually logical; most people don’t want to hear the truth.

This is why when we hear a 10-year-old boy say they are actually a lady, we will just say, “Of course you are, dear!” This is a polite society where we both apologise even when just one of us is in the wrong. This is why the police, MI5, MI6, and GCHQ deal with people in the manner that they do. Keep the peace. Maintain the system. Keep society polite.

I recall the Canadian journalist and activist Lauren Southern, along with some other hot right-wing chick, being denied entry into the UK from France or some other silly European country. The border guards refused her entry by using laws passed under the Terrorism Act—another delightful gift from the post-9/11 fear and control mindset. Lauren was gobsmacked and couldn’t believe she wasn’t allowed into the UK because of terrorism laws! What terrorism had she committed or been suspected of committing? I’ll tell you what! She was inciting terrorism; that’s what the police were concerned about.

Lauren had actually already been in the UK before exiting to that silly European country and trying to return. She spent most of her time in Luton—a town considered to be one of God’s greatest mistakes. Luton is the home of Tommy Robinson, the birthplace of the English Defence League (EDL), and also home to a number of very naughty Islamic terrorists, some of whom carried out some very naughty terrorist attacks. If the British government could get away with it, they’d flatten Luton with bulldozers and rockets and relocate all the opposing groups far, far away from each other. The Chinese would! And that’s why the British government has a little boner for China. Anyway, back to Lauren and her shenanigans.

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Lauren was conducting a ’social experiment'—which was also more like a dangerous troll—in Luton. Since there had been some fracas over leaflets handed out somewhere before stating, ’Jesus is gay!’ She thought she’d hold up a mirror to society and see how it reacted to flyers saying, ‘Mohammed is gay!’ This is all well and good, I suppose, but the problem is that she did it in Luton.

Luton is a dirty mark on polite society. The police do not want lunatic brown men from Islama-land running around town with explosive backpacks and Reebok trainers. That won’t do. They don’t want to be constantly ragging on the Muslim community, telling them to stop being bloody naughty, because the Muslim community tends to get very upset by very minor things. Riots are one thing, but the severed limbs of children at pop concerts are something else entirely. The police don’t want these nutters to be gifted with any excuse to act like a nutter. Persecuting someone like Lauren was a much easier and swifter action, so they did it. Simple as that.

It’s also worth noting that you can’t be letting any Johnny or Jenny foreigner flounce around British towns and upsetting the locals. That won’t do. You need to immigrate here to be allowed to do that. Lauren should have been more clued up on how bad it is in Luton and how the police react to any groups that upset the Muslims. This isn’t because they have a soft spot for the followers of Mohammed—it’s because they don’t want them acting a fool. This is why Tommy Robinson is constantly persecuted. This is why they do everything they can to prevent Britain First from gaining any legitimacy. This is why the media always call Nigel Farage a ‘bugger.’ It’s always about this and also about making sure anyone who messes with the establishment and their idea of a polite society gets clapped. And there’s a rich and long history of this.

Look at the Kray Twins. If you don’t know—maybe you have seen the Tom Hardy film Legend?—the Krays are Britain's most famous gangsters, but by far not our most successful or dangerous ones. The Krays got on the wrong side of the establishment because they were celebrities who were also folk heroes. They mixed with celebrities, they mixed with politicians (and Ronnie Kray even had sex with one apparently), and they were even on TV! It’s not the crimes they committed that mattered; it was their image and influence. They lead a life their way.

In Reggie Kray’s autobiography, he often spoke of his, his brother’s, and other gangsters’s ‘diversity.’ This diversity isn’t the modern kind where you have a think tank that looks like the United Colours of Benetton but has a shared robot brain. This was a diversity of culture, a totally different way of life compared to the average Briton. This was not playing by the rules of polite society. The Krays stood for something, and people liked it, and the establishment couldn’t be having that.

The Krays were in prison for far longer than their given sentences. If you know anything of UK prison sentences, you will know that a life sentence is 25 years, and most are out in 15. I know two people who’ve both killed a man. One was manslaughter, and he was out in two years. One was first-degree murder; he was out in less than 15. You can see many cases of killers serving these kinds of terms over the previous decades leading back to before the Krays glory days. The fact was this: they wanted them inside.

The Krays were already writing books and having films made, and the late 80s and early 90s gave birth to the age of the celebrity gangster, a thing that the Krays pioneered. They couldn’t have that. Both Krays were only released when they were incredibly old and ill. They rotted in prison because they were a threat to the idea of the polite society.

A hot talking point of late has been 'two-tier policing’ in the UK—the idea that there is one rule for one group of people and another for the other. This is fairly true, but because there is some logic to the madness, and the logic is dictated by what’s the easiest way to maintain the polite society.

There is a chain of events that lead up to the two-tier policing trending topic, and the perception of these events has gotten many people a little confused.

First there was the riot in the Harehills area of Leeds on the 18th of July. This was sparked off by social services removing four children from a local Romany family. The area is a diverse mix, with not just Romany people but, like many big Yorkshire towns and cities, also many Southwest Asians. Because Romani people are dark-skinned, many useless tools online assumed this was Muslims being naughty again. Some Asian men, along with Romani, were caught on camera burning stuff and one man trying to blow up a bus! It was lawless, dystopian-looking chaos. Not good for a polite society. But the usual reactions from the tools on the left and right were typically boring and unoriginal. The right getting the details wrong and the left defending the indefensible. How lovely.

Then, shortly after, there was the incident at Manchester Airport on the 23^rd of July where we all saw videos of police stomping on Muslim men. Then we got to see the full footage and realised that one of these Muslim men had smacked a female police officer. That just won’t do in a polite society! As usual in the modern age of clipped video, we only got to see what someone wanted us to see at first, and by the time the full footage had been released, the story someone wanted to be the truth was the only truth. This whole fiasco made many different groups of people a little pissed off for different reasons.

Following this, the term two-tier policing started doing the rounds, and by the 29th of July, three small children were fatally stabbed by a nutter from Wales in the northern hole of Southport. That’s the headline that is true, not the headlines we got from the opposing culture war armies. In a little over a week, a bunch of stuff happened that got everyone very upset and even more upset about the government’s response to these different events. The riots that followed the attack in Southport were nationwide and pretty destructive. We hadn’t had a nationwide riot of this nature since the summer of 2011, after the shooting of local East End naughty boy Mark Duggan (seriously, he was proper naughty; his godfather was one of the Noonan’s, a notorious crime family from Manchester; just think about that for a minute or two).

The reaction from the newly elected NPC bot dripped in flesh that is known to outsiders as Sir Kier Starmer (not a rejected Game of Thrones character, by the way) was concerning. He locked up so many rioters that he actually had to empty the jails to fit them all in! Think about that. That’s like something that happens in a silly country like Honduras, not a polite country that produced Shakespeare and Joan Collins.

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Regardless of whether there was a disproportionate number of arrests and lengths of sentencing for those involved in Manchester Airport, Harehills, and the Southport riots, it’s the messaging from the government and their media stooges and the useful idiots of the internet that matters. As far as we were told, those involved in the riots that were a reaction to the murder of little girls were scum and would feel the full force of the law. The reactions to men smacking women and bad parenting were treated with kid gloves. This was a clear two-tier approach. But that’s because most of the people who got arrested over the Southport-related rioting were not Islamic nutters; they were going after anyone who may be Islamic. Those of the Islamic faith don’t react too kindly to silly cartoons, let alone drunk men trying to burn down the hotel they’re sleeping in. They made an example of those who would ignite a fire that would lead to worse things in polite society. Also, they were challenging the decisions of the establishment, which was to let in millions of migrants with impunity. Don’t be naughty, Gary; we know what’s best!

Another small point that is overlooked is that these incidents happened during the height of summer, and Britain always has rioting and lunacy when it gets too hot. It’s Britain for goodness sake, not Dubai or central Vietnam. We’re not built for this heat. We lose our minds as soon as there is a mere hint of sunny weather. This is a climate issue! Which nicely leads to the other side of the response about two-tier policing—the sentences dished out to climate-cult fanatics.

Some of those climate change protesters who represented Just Stop Oil, Extinction Rebellion, and whatever the others decided to label themselves were given incredibly lengthy sentences for obstructing traffic and defacing art. Roger Hallam, for example, was sentenced to 5 years—in July, what a month that was!—for his role in obstructing the M25 motorway, the motorway immortalised in the Chris Rhea song Road to Hell. Whereas Thomas Birley, the painter and decorator who decided he’d burn down a hotel housing migrants for a giggle, was sentenced to 9 years in jail. Only an extra four years for a crime that potentially could lead to a far more serious offence.

The usual left-wing bots and blobs thoroughly enjoyed trolling the right-wingers for talking about two-tier policing when pointing out the sentences given to climate protestors—which is silly, because surely they should have acknowledged the existence of two-tier policing and joined forces with the right and brought down the government, and we’d all live happily ever after (what a bunch of useless twerps they are!). But all of them failed to see why the climate protestors were given such harsh sentencing.

Like upsetting Muslims who have a habit of blowing themselves up at teeny-bopper concerts, you can’t go around disrupting the polite society. Our society needs to function, and the M25 is cause for much annoyance and disruption to our polite society. We can’t have busy working people getting held up even more and getting angry and punching little drips with ‘stop the genocide of Mother Earth’ written in faeces across their bare chests. No, that just won’t do. You’re making people upset and holding up the transit of goods. The establishment wants to make it clear that some jumped-up pansy with a useless degree from a bog-town university of no merit glueing their face to a dual carriageway isn’t going to mess with our police society. People have bills and shit!

If you really paid attention, you would understand why certain people get penalised and others don’t. It’s not about intent; it’s about effect. Those poor schlubs who got arrested for even mentioning they were going to join in with the rioting in 2011 on Twitter got two years in jail. This has been going on during all my existence on earth. When the BLM riots reached Britain during the madness of Covid in 2020, they weren’t given the full force of the law treatment—unlike the anti-lockdown protestors—because they didn’t really present much of a threat to the polite society. That’s right, Tarquin, your marching and statue toppling weren’t taken seriously by the establishment; you were just silly to them and unworthy of deserving punishment.

This is unlike those from the hoods of Britain who rioted in 2011 and the working-class hoods of Britain in 2024—these are naughty people who fight, stab, and shoot, and we can’t have them being naughty in public in such large numbers—that’s not good for the polite society. The snotty students and their Black Power fists are very cute, but when they start disrupting the transport system that the polite society depends on, then they’re getting bottom-fisted as much as a Ghetto Boy from Lewisham and a painter and decorator from Sheffield.

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Trump isn’t Hitler. Ok?

The reactions from the losing side—and every political losing side in America is the sorest of losers—are no longer comical and ripe for amusing freak-out compilations. No way, Nelly! They’re performative and embarrassing. They are hyperbolic, but hyperbolic isn’t a strong enough word. They are deeply fake. I don’t think these people believe any of the hype they screech while shaving their heads or smashing TVs. If they did, they’d be acting a little more seriously, like serious people do when they have been presented with serious issues.

Why so un-serious?

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David Icke has made a very illustrious career from writing and speaking about the world being controlled by Lizard Men. David Icke—if you aren’t in the know—is not a science fiction writer; he is a purveyor of truth. The Royal Family, the Rothschilds, and Netanyahu (probably) are all Lizard Men from outer space, and they love the taste of aryan blood, and they’re very naughty, and they oppress us and eat babies as well, I expect.

Does Icke believe these Lizard Men are real? Possibly not. Does it matter if he believes they are real? Yes. Yes, of course it bloody matters if David Icke doesn’t believe in the stuff he wants you to believe about dastardly Lizard Men from outer space!

So, do these politicians, celebrities, pundits, journalists, and nutters on TikTok believe that Hitler is now the former presenter of The Apprentice? I seriously doubt it, because, again, serious problems are dealt with in a serious manner.

It would be all well and good with bells strapped on and the promise of a happy ending if these messages of impending were worth listening to because we ought to keep an open mind, but there are no what-ifs or possibilities. We have already been on this rodeo. If you’ve forgotten already, Trump was already president.

And what happened then? Not a lot. He spent loads of money on the military and said some mean things to mean journalists. That’s pretty much it. No gulags. No mass incarcerations. No restrictions on freedoms. No public executions.

His detractors are trying to convince us, or perhaps, more accurately, themselves, that he will use political power to influence the law and imprison his opponents. Well, maybe he should, seeing that his opponents tried to do that five hundred thousand times in one week—that’s hyperbole, just in case a non-serious person tries to fact-check me for being funny.

Compare this to the recently elected UK government—huge detractors of Trump and the right wing—and you will see how these labels of fascism and so on are thrown in a completely wrong direction. Keir Starmer has banged up so many people for expressing their feelings online and in the streets in less than a month that he had to empty the prisons in order to fill them up again! That’s what happens in wacky third-world dictatorships, not in the land of Dickens and Downton Abbey!

Are these people just not serious people and merely silly people? That’s a strong conclusion. Or maybe they’re just bored or are so flipped by their social media algorithms that they no longer have any personal agency—they just exist and do things that they have no conscious control over. This makes a lot of sense, because their actions and rhetoric make no sense. In order for things to make sense, there has to be a clear reason or goal. What is the goal? There doesn’t seem to be one anymore.

There obviously was a goal originally, but that was 8 years ago. The political establishment didn’t like Trump and were dead-set on doing whatever it took to nullify and discredit him—and it almost worked, many, many times; they came so close. Unfortunately, this tactic has backfired on them severely and gifted Trump one of the greatest political story arcs of all time. A man who has looked defeated beyond redemption time and time again has come back fighting and winning. They tried to make a fascist monster but ended up making a monster they have no game plan to defeat—an American hero!

So why keep up the pretence? I suspect because politics is mostly made up of people who have no ideas. Calling them and their supporters insane just doesn’t cut it—and is an insult to the insane. Doing the same things over and over again and expecting different results is apparently the definition of insanity, but that conclusion is too obvious. But again, am I to ignore the obvious like they do? No. But yes.

I just don’t think these people believe in anything. The political establishment obviously doesn't; they just want a career and power, and that’s about it. The people—the hairshavers and screechers—don’t believe in anything and never have; they’re just bored of a life devoid of meaning. These are people who wake up in the morning and cry because they’re not in Gaza or Israel and facing impending doom every single minute—this bothers them so. Little Abdul, who’s had his legs blown off, has a life of pain and meaning. Kirsty from Connecticut has too many choices: get a new haircut, block Dan on WhatsApp, take photos of her smoothie, or scream and cry about Donald Trump being an American hero. Choices, choices, fucking shitty choices.

All these people have is existing. They don’t believe in anything, but they need to pass the time, because sitting in silence and enjoying the great gift of life is too much effort and also something they can’t (but actually can) post on social media. There is no end goal. Shaving their heads will do what exactly? Nothing. They can’t think it will do something because then they’d mindlessly eat washing powder thinking it would give them nutrients and therefore be dead, and they’re not dead, so they know it’s pointless. They are very much like the rioters in the UK during summer: it was hot, they were angry, they smashed stuff, there was no end goal.

They may have a kind of belief that they are important, sentient beings, but they’re miserable because of it. They’d be better off reincarnated as dung beetles. Dung beetles just push balls of dung; that’s their purpose. They’re not happy nor sad; they just are. That’s a much more meaningful existence for Kirsty and her peers and a much more pleasant existence for everyone else—dung beetles aren’t bothering anybody.

Compare them with Trump’s supporters, and you will see a stark contrast—belief. Trump’s supporters, whether correct or not, are believers—real believers. They have seen him pull off near miracles to get re-elected. They have that, and that makes them happier and more balanced, regardless of whether they believe in Qanon or Lizard Men or not. That’s obvious. That’s the lesson.

These sore losers are people who believe in nothing and therefore receive nothing. They got the energy back that they put out. They need something to believe in, and then the universe will gift them, but until then, they will just have to be ignored.

I have nothing against Dan Koe; I find he makes a lot of sense and has something of value to offer—value, by the way, is a term that’s criminally overused in the writing-about-writing space—but he and his peers have created an insufferable army of tiresome little monsters.

X, like most social media sites guided by hyperactive algorithms, can completely change your reality in seconds. Your entire feed could be about cute cats, and then, suddenly, you can come across a hot lady, wearing cat ears, and stare at her for more than a second, and before you can whisper "meow, my lady,” your entire feed is dominated by hot ladies and their devilish thirst trap posts. This is what happens to the writing-about-writing community. They find people who are doing similar things and then comment on every post to add “value” and gain traction. They become stuck in an echo chamber of insufferable suffering with no guiding light to escape. This is the game created by the Dan Koe’s of the universe, and it is genius because it greatly benefits the pioneers of the writing-about-writing space, and no one else (as far as I can see, anyway).

The algorithmic trap is set because the advice is the same from all of these leaders of the space—who all know each other, and it goes something like this:

- Write X amounts of posts per day.

- Comment on 20–50 posts in your niche per day.

- DM 5-10 people per day.

- Write at least 2 threads per week.

- Always add value!

When commenting on posts, you’re encouraged to comment on a mix of big, medium, and small accounts. Now, don’t get it twisted, my little twisted lovers; this isn’t necessarily redundant, as engagement and networking does work, but there are problems with this approach:

1. This greatly benefits the leaders of the space more than it benefits the followers.

2. It creates a Ponzi scheme.

3. The value they speak of is of no value.

The first problem is obvious. X is based on impressions, and impressions give you bundles of cash. The Dan Koe’s tell you that replying to their posts will put you in front of more eyes, which is true, and gives you the chance to get reposted by big accounts. Well, not from what I’ve seen, and I’ve been observing this for a long time now. They don’t repost; what they might do is give it a like. That would be all well and good a year ago, but as likes are now hidden, it’s meaningless. I have had posts liked by big accounts, but only I see that, so what do I do? Screenshot it and post it like some kind of bog-snorkling tosser? No. I will not, and neither should anyone.

The Ponzi scheme aspect is where the bigger issues lie. Because they, the followers of the writing-about-writing space leaders, learn to become a writer and most likely sign up and pay for the leaders courses. And what do they learn? I don’t know! But I do know that the overwhelming majority of them launch a course or service that will help people become writers! Or they will perhaps offer ghostwriting services. None of them have come up with anything beyond that. The leaders will consistently bang on about writing about experiences and finding a service or business that comes from their learning, but all of these future Dodo’s just write about writing, mixed in with hustle culture and success platitudes. This creates a continuous loop of the same nonsense. Post something about the value of being a writer, have 1,000 douche nuggets reply with their take on it, and let it continue.

Some of the very worst posts in the space are about writing about writing on X itself. These nuggets of satirical inspiration are all the same but with varying degrees of obnoxiousness.

This is just a random one that popped up first. I don’t need to hunt for the very best or worst one; they’re all the bloody same. Another type that grinds my gizzards is the chatter about how much money these NPC clown-bots claim to make from the mysterious “clients.”

I don’t believe they have clients, because the idea is to become an authority figure who has social proof—this is heavily drummed into the followers of the writing-about-writing cult leaders. You just say you’re making money and hope someone will buy your services. But no one is buying because they’re all selling the same fucking service! Your algorithm is dominated by exactly the same people. This is perhaps a worse echo chamber than the yawn-some political ones—you know, the ones where everyone cries about the other side being twats. Complaining about politics on X is just as useless a pastime as selling a course about writing to other writers who are selling courses about writing. Perhaps the X money is enough to keep you going, but this defeats the point that is shouted about so often: value.

Value might as well be the new Nazi or Woke—it’s so overused it might as well be replaced with a spasticated squawk. The cult leaders will tell you: Give people value with your replies and posts. And what value do they give? Platitudes that are not much different to those dopamine-boosting inspirational quote accounts for depressed self-harming teenage girls (if you can’t handle me at my best, you won’t like me at my worst, that kind of shit) and vague pieces of advice similar to the nonsense you spout after your 4^th rail of Peruvian punching powder or during those half asleep conversations when you just want the other person to shut the hell up.

The platitudes offer little apart from vapid inspiration. The advice—which apparently should be actionable—offers nothing more than: write on X every day, avoid using adverbs, write a good hook, and keep writing because you’re a writer and writers write! What is this value you speak of?

There may be an issue with AI that cannot be blamed on Dan Koe or Dickie Bush—a man who is not a porn star. What the hell is that all about? Look through the advice videos on YouTube on how to grow on X, and you will see consistent advice that tells you to take the high-performing tweets of leaders in the niche of your choice and run into ChatGPT with certain prompts to generate your own version of those tweets. This is why people who are not actual bots appear like bots. This would answer why all the replies and posts seem the same. You cannot pin the blame on Dan Koe and Penis Hedge—now that’s writing!—because they don’t seem to push that. That blame lies on others who I will not bother to name because I’m a writer and I write—I have no time for looking up shit with all this bloody, valuable writing to do.

Am I mad at these people? No, I just want them to stop the “I’m a writer” spiel and use a term that clearly separates them from others. You don’t walk up to someone who’s like Tolstoy and say, “I’m a writer too!” when all you write are silly platitudes about how you don’t have time for friends or fun because you're a solopreneur writer who’s going to earn six figures a day or kill themselves. You need to say you’re a Social Media Writer, or an Online Content Writer, or something like that. We are not the same. I am not a man who says they are a football manager and just writes about being a football manager without ever having coached a team. My writing is from the soul—a messy soul at that, but a real one. Whoever you’re writing for, they are only there to compete with you, not gain value from you. Whereas I love to see other writers who write stuff that I want to read, not just want to reply to. 

The Jerry Springer Show and mass shootings come to mind. Absolutely bonkers things that seem obscene and way too over-the-top. You could be as hungry as one of those Ethiopian toddlers who were always on TV in the 80s and watch half an episode of Man vs. Food or Diners, Dives, and Drive-Ins and feel nauseas, never wanting to see any food, in any form, again. Watching a bloated man devour a mega-breakfast omelette with seventeen types of cheese, 12 lbs of bacon, six hot dogs, and a kilo of 38-hour-smoked brisket is just too much. America is often just too much. American politics is too much and way too silly.

British politics is boring and monotonous, and so it should be, because politics is terribly dud. It’s something that takes up too much civil discourse, promises too much, and delivers way below too little. It’s the topic of choice for the moron who didn’t get the memo they are a moron and proceeded to smoke a pipe and with a book in one hand, believing they don’t look moronic in the slightest.

American politics is a spectacle that believes itself to be a music festival comparable to the peak glory of Glastonbury Festival but is actually much closer to a pantomime in Chatham—Americans who don’t know Chatham, it’s proper shit and pantomimes are like plays for drunk simpletons who find a man in a dress to be a thing that makes giggles come out of their mouth (the correct reaction, of course).

It’s not just seeing politicians in campaign ads with bazookas and helicopters or posing in thonged swimsuits to encourage voters to vote with their dick or vagina that makes it a pantomime—it’s the constant goof vs. evil rhetoric. Which is a good thing, but doesn’t produce the good results it ought to.

Politics is a farce, and that’s why satire has greatly benefitted from it. We all know politicians are full of icky parts of cat litter, and we once laughed at them all. The ridiculous nature of American politics heightens this farce to a level that looks crass. This heightened reality is more suitable for the tone of a Paul Verhovern 80s action movie or an episode of Sunset Beach (if you don’t know that show, please change your life for the better by looking it up and watching just a little bit of it). During the last American election, there was all this spicy talk about election interference, with vote tampering and falsified ballots. Then there was that hoo-ha at the capital building—an appropriate response to election rigging in my view—and the winning side were outraged by the accusations.

The last statement is false; America didn’t need that hoo-ha in January 2021 to look silly; it’s been looking silly for a very long time because of the childish behaviour of their political parties.

The claims of election interference were nothing new; we’ve been hearing this old chestnut for decades.

Back when watching the Oscars was still a thing you’d bother doing, I remember Michael Moore’s acceptance speech for best something. He banged on about fictitious election results and so on. What was that about? Then I was filled in about how the Democrat party was accusing the Republicans of stealing the election. My-oh-my. The losing side were protesting day and night over this horrendous miscarriage of democracy. In Britain and other serious countries, we just said, “What a bunch of sore losers!”

Then we got similar events in 2016—Russia, Russia, Russia—and 2020, and there were murmurs of it in 2004, 2008, and 2012. But it’s all the other accusations that come with it that make it look ridiculous again, which ought to be a positive thing.

It wasn’t just these accusations of election fraud; it was claims of presidents being Russian sleeper-agents and not even Americans. The latter claim was most interesting because the first person to accuse Obama of not being American was Hilary Clinton—a woman on his political side! Things get even more crazy as the age of discourse gets more divided, with accusations of being Nazis, nonces, and North Korean sympathisers. And yet, seeing both sides spout nonsense accusation after nonsense accusation doesn’t awaken the general population to the fact that this is a bad pantomime and should not be taken seriously—and, therefore, politics and the myth of democracy should be rejected. No sir/madam. They play along with it like it’s only the other side that’s insane.

This refusal to acknowledge that this is just a salacious spectacle that is more in line with The Jerry Springer Show than it is something highbrow and serious like War and Peace isn’t baffling and funny; it’s actually kind of depressing. And yet, 8 years ago, a wonderful thing happened—the Donald became president. An uncouth, foul-mouthed bruiser took the heightened, silly pantomime to new heights. It was like a reboot of one of those hideous torture porn moves—Saw, Hostel, and the like—and they just said, “Sod it, let’s make an actual snuff film and have only children being murdered.” Trump magnified the ridiculousness of American, and all, politics so much that you surely could never take it seriously again. But that didn’t happen; instead, it seems they’ve taken it way too seriously. They have had the reaction that a short man with autism has to a witty joke—they leap at you and try to bite your face.

How unfortunate this has been, and how silly so many people look. I understand that Trump is uncouth. I understand that the Democrat Party has been very suppressive to the freedoms that America stands for—freedoms we British ought to admire and demand. But to not see this as a colossal clown show and choose to do something more productive with your time, like move to a tax haven and laugh at your nation burning from afar, is criminal.

This election is no different from any others. It should be enjoyed for what it is: schlocky, fun entertainment. Seeing Donald Trump stage a workday at McDonalds to just troll Kamala Harris is perfectly petty and fun. And that’s all it is, and that’s all it’s ever been—it has no depth below that. Never has, never will.

The usual nonsense was spread around:

• Xenophobia.

• It’s been over 80 years since World War 2. Get over it.

• And, of course, Brexit had something to do with it (which is apparently the same reason as to why there’s no life on Mars).

These people snivel at those who are passionate about football, but that’s because they don’t understand it, and they are also, most likely, total arseholes. 

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Don’t get it twisted though; football rivalry and hooliganism can be incredibly retarded and a choice pastime for other kinds of arseholes. Such rivalry and passion seem silly, but all humans are silly with emotions. There is no difference between a man who gets upset over Star Wars and a QPR firm member who bottles a Millwall supporter on a night bus. They all could do with better things to do.

But those who argue about what Nietzsche really meant; those who berate each other about when an unborn foetus becomes a legitimate human being; those who squabble over whether Tolstoy or Dostevsky were the greatest novelists are all having pointless, retarded debates when they could be doing something more useful. 

We are passionate because we are humans, and passion makes life worth living. It’s easy to mock the average man who loves football; the middle and elite classes have been finding reasons to shit on working people for millennia.

I say fuck ‘em and the horse they fucked. They don’t get it, and who cares what people have to say about what they don’t understand? 

Now, allow me to educate those of you who might not get it, so you won’t look silly on the Internet and at whatever horrid social function you’re forced to attend.

I will confess now. Upon heating the news that Thomas Tuchel is the New England national football team manager, I felt a little “urgh!” Not because I think he is a bad manager—and what’s my expertise on such matters anyway? No. He’s German. We just can’t be allowing a German to manage our national team, and any self-respecting German would feel the same way about an Englishman managing the German national team. 

Is it because of the war? I don’t think so. We were at war with Italy, and when Fabio Capello became England manager back in 2007, we didn’t like the idea of a foreign manager, but we were ok with having such a great manager like Capello—we didn’t have many other options.

Hell, we’ve been at war with Japan; any Japanese manager that brings home the World Cup is welcome. What about a Frenchman? Don’t be disgusting. An Argentinian? That would be ok to be fair; we’re over the Falklands; they are not.

Understand this. Brazil could not appoint an Argentinian, nor vice versa, because they are the two South American great national teams, as well as neighbours. It’s just not the done thing.

The fact remains that England and Germany have a rivalry that may have started with two colossal world wars, but it built up in football via its own accord. And that’s what the people don’t get.

Many club football rivalries are based on factors outside of football. West Ham and Millwall’s hatred of each other stems back to the glory days of the East End dockers rivalry. The same dock worker rivalry forged the hatred between Portsmouth and Southampton. One of the fiercest rivalries between Wolverhampton Wanderers and West Bromwich Albion stems from the fact the fact that they were rival factory-town neighbours during the peak of the Industrial Revolution. North of the border sees religious rivalry and hatred manifest in football, with Rangers and Celtic in Glasgow. But some rivalry just develops.

Man Utd and Liverpool’s fight to become the most dominant club in England and Europe. Chelsea and Liverpool developed a rivalry after many encounters in the Champions League. Crystal Palace supporters hate Man Utd, not because of a Manchester vs. London divide but because Crystal Palace have only reached the FA Cup final twice and lost both times to Man Utd.

England’s greatest achievement came in Wembley Stadium back in 1966—against the Germans. The following tournament in 1970 saw Germany get their revenge by knocking out the English champions in the quarterfinals. Then roll onto 1990, a tournament I remember well from childhood. We had our second-best run in a World Cup, and we were defeated by the Germans in the semi-final—on bloody penalties. 6 years later, in the European Championships, hosted in England, we saw a very good England team get knocked out in the semi-finals again, by Germany, again, on penalties. We managed to get our own back against Germany at Euro 2000 by beating them 1-0, and though we went out in the first round, Germany finished bottom of our group. That was good enough!

Then, in the year 2000, the last competitive match was held at the old Wembley Stadium. We lost 1-0 to Germany, and the manager, Kevin Keegan, resigned. That defeat just couldn’t be justified. Keegan knew it. He didn’t cry about it because he is a football man, and he understood the shame he had brought. Disgusting shame!

When Sven Goran Erickson took over as England’s first ever foreign manager, there were moans, there were doubts, there was anger. We knew he was great but wasn’t English. Yet, despite his somewhat disappointing tenure as England manager, and one that managed the so-called Golden Generation that was supposed to be destined for ultimate glory, we still love him (RIP). That’s because he gifted us one of our greatest victories and most satisfying acts of revenge: the second leg match of the World Cup qualifiers against Germany in Germany. It was England 5, Germany 0! It was so glorious that the BBC had the wisdom to repeat the match merely 5 hours later. Whatever was supposed to be on instead was shoved aside like dirty laundry on hangover day. Hezbollah could drop a ten-tonne dirty bomb on Tel Aviv, and the BBC wouldn’t have batted an eyelid. Back then, the BBC understood the people, and the people wanted to live this experience again! And we fucking did. Drunk, coked up, singing songs of filth. Nobody went to work the next day, and nobody gave a shit. There have been encounters since; they beat us 4-1 in the 2010 World Cup, and we beat them 2-0 in Euro 2020.

This is called football rivalry, and it’s something non-football people understand, and I care not for why they don’t. Stick to crying about Harry Potter and why fat birds are running the modelling industry, you flaccid cretins.

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People need to make stuff about themselves, and this symptom is more heightened in this modern age of online-driven narcissism. Go to a funeral—I dare you—and spend time observing how many people are just a little bit too upset. Too upset because the spotlight is all on the dead body and the nearest and dearest, and this simply won’t do. They need to be the shining star of this misery-fest. They need sympathy. They need a pat on the back for being oh-so brave.

I have come to have such an open mind that a case like Diddy’s—and Weinstein and Cosby and even Epstein—could be completely false. Made up. A hit job. A psyopp. A case manufactured by some law enforcement higher-up who needs a high-profile case to make their name and keep their job. I keep this open mind because I have so little faith in many people who choose to leach onto successful, high-profile people and that I think most law enforcement and security agencies are full of donkey dump.

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I don’t know how many witnesses, with or without lawsuits to boot, have come forward, but there’s a lot. You’d think this was an open-and-shut case where there’s no getting out. How on earth could there be so much testimony? How can I believe this man is even remotely innocent? Well, you should. I do. Diddy inhabits a world where everyone wants a payday. He, like many music moguls before him since the record industry was birthed, has undoubtedly screwed enough artists (in a business sense, that is) to be a prime enemy. It comes with the territory—a horrid, dirty territory that is the entertainment business. Not only that, there’s simple jealousy and silly women who thought getting freaky with Puffy would be great for their careers—this could finally be their big break. Victimhood currency is at a peak, and now is the time to cash in. Not back then, and perhaps not tomorrow. 

Do I believe in his “freak” parties? Yes. He’s a rich man. Who wouldn’t have sordid parties full of prime women or men if you enjoy penis doing silly things? I intend to have a few freak parties of my own, but not sordid weirdo ones. I like my freakiness to be mildly wholesome—more Carry On movie than My Stepmommy Caught Me Sniffing Her Gooey Panties, Pornhub production. I’d have a human ky-jelly slide, ladies bouncing on space hoppers covered in whipped cream, and a groping cupboard. Nothing too mad or fancy. I have not been corrupted by online porn or power. 

There will be plenty of people who just can’t actually physically sit still and watch all this unfold—they need to be part of the action. They’ll be so excited that they’ll remind every friend, cousin, uncle, auntie, whack-job therapist, and the guy who sells them fruit once a week that they met Diddy in an elevator once, and he said, “What up, playboy!” They are part of this news cycle. This story is about them too! They also love money as much as attention. Oh my god! I’m going to be famous for 2.34 seconds and get paid! The world is mine!

We saw this kind of behaviour in the wake of the murders of 2Pac and Biggie Smalls. The amount of conspiracy theories—and the books and straight to DVD (then streaming and YouTube)—that got batted around almost eclipsed that of JFK, Jack the Ripper, and The Moon Landing combined. Bodyguards, minor artists, former police officers, sound engineers, hair stylists, dentists, and even some guy who waved at 2Pac during a concert in Baltimore in 1994 had a theory and theory product to sell. Some theories involved Puffy himself—and his guilt in that case is for another time—and accused him of some incredibly gangster-gangster behaviour! 

The point is this—most of these people are grifters, fantasists, and fantasist grifters. I wouldn’t even believe they brush their own teeth if they dragged me into a bathroom and started vigorously foaming up their mouths with brush and Colgate. 

Then there’s the racketeering and trafficking part. I understand how trafficking works in America: you can just fly a girl in from another state to pay to bang her—which she agrees to—and this is trafficking. This is no way near the kind of trafficking committed by seasoned Albanian or Mexican organised crime groups—but it reads the same. That’s a problem. 

Racketeering, too, could just be threatening someone who’s talking crazy. They might be willing to go to the press with salacious and audacious claims and try to extort you. Then you turn gangster and say, “No, I’ll bury you if you do that; here’s a tape I have of you being a proper bugger!” No, you’re an actual gangster. 

This also reminds me of a couple of things that have always bothered me—famous gangsters of the past and the current Young Thug and YSL court case. I just can’t help but whiff fish. 

I don’t buy Young Thug—one of the seminal rap artists of this generation—ran a crime group. It just doesn’t make sense. Is there less money in music now? Yes. Diddy took most of it! But Young Thug is prolific, respected, and ever popular. I would not be surprised if it was all based on rumour, speculation, and half-truths that have been weaponised by a district attorney who wants to make a name for themselves. I always think this is political. I think much of the case against the Krays was political—they were intertwined with members of the political establishment (and apparently having bottom sex with some of them to boot!). The sixties were full of political scandal in the UK, and the Krays were just too high profile and perhaps knew too much. They had to be made an example of. I’m sure Reggie and Ronnie committed murders, but the network of crime they had? Perhaps not. The Richardsons had a bigger operation—it even had international interests—but they have never been as high profile and certainly did not serve the sentences the Krays did. 

Then I think of families like the Addams Family—the crime firm from North London, not the weirdos in that TV show. Sometimes I think that all the stories of committing “25-30 murders,” running huge drug operations across Europe, and being the largest protection racket in London were all blown beyond preparation. I wouldn’t be surprised if 90% of what is said they do is absolute bollocks. Perhaps they even played up to it in order to look badder than they could ever possibly be—there is a gangster film script in that, believe me!

When opportunity knocks, people can’t help themselves. This I know to be true. Maybe I am so bloody jaded, like conspiracy nutters who stopped believing in anything after Jeffrey didn’t kill himself and a Chinaman didn’t eat a bat. Am I so cynical? Yes, but also no. I believe in the divine power of the universe, and I believe in people—not most people, but the rare good ones. I love kittens and dogs and certain species of monkey. I don’t believe in Diddy, but I also can’t believe half of it, not like a deranged Michael Jackson super fan, but like a person who has learnt too much.

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Someone said Al Qaeda wasn’t real, the FBI made it up. Then Toniblar and George told us Saddam had WMDs. We went to war again. 1 million marched in London; nothing changed.

Tony said God be with you.

I’m tired.

Then we watched documentaries like Short Change and Zeitgeist: everything was a lie.

Then they told us the war in Iraq was based on a lie—our suspicions were confirmed.

Then 7/7 happened.

Then every news story was about road side bombs and suicide killers who live amongst us—Muslims, even scarier. 

We went down rabbit holes:

the CIA did this,

MI6 did that,

the illuminati were the Masons, who were the Bilderberg group, who were the Rockefellers, who were secret Jews, who were Rothschilds, who were possible lizards. 

The Arab spring came; social media was king.

It failed,

hashtags became boomer-cringe,

ISIS came and we were even more scared.

Then refugees flooded Europe, and we were pooing our collective pants.

I’m tired.

They shot up Charlie Hebdo, people changed their bio pictures to the French flag. They shot up Paris. They drove threw crowds with a truck. They blew up a train or two. They stabbed and slashed innocents in London Bridge. SO-19 came, bang, bang, bang, dead.

They chopped off Rigby’s head. They stabbed Police. They blew up a concert full of young girls.

Shamima ran away. 

People got more suspicious: project blue beam, Mandela effect, Haarp, dancing Israelis, the earth is flat. 

I’m tired.

The law enforcement establishment said there were 30,000 known Jihadis in Britain. Then they disappeared into the void.

The far right appeared. They were incels, not cucks or simps (they were cool). Then an orange man said things about vaginas and a frog cartoon was scarier than ISIS. 

Then SEO crawl bots told us what to say to everyone about anything:

SJW,

nazi,

incel,

weird,

woke,

SJW,

snowflake,

fascist,

racist,

ally,

gender,

non-binary,

trans,

activist,

zionist,

normie,

based,

misinformation,

disinformation,

I’m tired.

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Then a Chinaman ate a bat. But he didn’t. It was pangolin. No it wasn’t. It was a lab leak. Shut up bigot. 

Don’t wear a mask. Wear a mask. Don’t hug. Stay in door.

Watch internet.

Gaslighting. Lies.

One vaccine.

No, two vaccines.

No, three vaccines.

Take vaccines forever.

We didn’t say one vaccine.

We didn’t say this, we didn’t say that. The video you saw wasn’t me, it was a far-right hallucination.

No vaccine, no job. 

Internet says it’s all lies.

TV says I should let grandma die.

Epstein didn’t kill himself. The earth is flat. Israel did covid and 9/11.

Tiger King.

300 genders.

Black Lives Matter.

Don’t protest about freedom. Do protest about a fentanyl addict. Team mask. Team no mask.

I don’t believe a single thing the media or the politicians say. I believe everything they say.

Amazon are selling children disguised as wardrobes.

Wearing a mask will stop nuclear war. 

Covid gone. Please bring back covid.

I’m tired.

Team Ukraine. Team Russia.

Team woke. Team not-woke.

Team Jesus. Team Elijah.

Team Islam. Team Mary.

Team Israel. Team Palestine.

Team satan. Team pro-life.

Team immigration. Team build a wall as high as Pluto.

Israel did 9/11.

No they didn’t.

Ok, Muslims did it.

Shush. 

I’m still scared of Muslims. You’re a bigot. Go to jail. 

I’m scared of the far right.

Yes, so you should be.

Who are they?

We don’t know. 

It’s woke.

What is? Hating Israel.

No, it’s based.

I’m not based.

Blocked. 

Who is doing all of this?

Who do I need to hate and be scared of? They’ll let you know.

I am tired.

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My knowledge of NaNoWriMo is limited, but I am well aware of their National Novel Writing Month—something I once attempted to take part in. According to their own website, they are:

a 501(c)(3) nonprofit that believes in the transformational power of creativity. We provide the structure, community, and encouragement to help people use their voices, achieve creative goals, and build new worlds—on and off the page. 

They champion the power of creativity, so I was guessing they weren’t into AI destroying the creativity landscape that they fiercely support. Well, like the time I was convinced The Spice Girls would be a one-hit wonder, I got it all wrong. They’re all for it!

Turns out it was a statement made by NaNoWriMo on the buzzword subject of 2023-2024, AI, that had gotten many writers all worked up.

The reactions to this announcement were less than “peace, love and unity”:

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Here’s my special little opinion.

One.

If you ever get into a discussion, debate, or—my favourite—row and someone uses words like ableist or classist or any other ‘ist’ or even ‘ism’ to dismiss your views and truths, just slap them (or walk away if you have sensitive hands). 

There is no discussion with these types; they aren’t interested, and you should never waste your precious time engaging in their insincere madness.

Two.

AI and writing. You need to embrace AI in order to not get left behind. AI may be a fad that we reject, like all the Metaverse and 3D movies, but corporate greed is corporate greed, and free workers are too delicious for them. 

They need holidays in Marbella and surgery for their wives, and now their kids because their kids are all confused by corporations insistence on being so inclusive they have excluded logic. 

I can understand where the classism and ableism angles come from. Not everyone is so literate. I’m not. I’m majorly dyslexic. I have used AI as a tool for grammar correction. Auto-correct for spelling is, after all, AI. But I won’t be pandered to or insulted by do-gooders who think I need a helping hand. Fuck their helping hand. Go patronise someone who enjoys it. 

AI can speed up research and is actually better than Google, because Google is not only evil; it’s also shit. Not evil shit, but shit evil; that’s just depressing. The AI research will need proofreading and verifying—never assume it’s top-notch—but time is valuable, and anything that gives it back is worthy of use.

AI can also help with moments where you’re stuck for inspiration, but I’ll dive into that in point 3. 

AI art is soulless and weird, but for many of us one-human-band creators, it has its uses. Art for our posts and writings is important, and money is tight. We ought to build more relationships with artists though and use our cross-platforming to build each other's careers—something I am going to start doing more, but I also love making digital art; it’s bloody fun.

Note: My profile picture is AI-generated, as are some of my post images. The final boss ladyboy entry image to My Friend You is pure AI—it took ages for it to give me something useable; AI art generation is like seeing the horrid experimental stages of the teleporter in Cronenberg’s remake of The Fly! 

I liked how weird and messed up my profile images looked; it fits my themes of perceptions of reality and the universe and higher powers, oh, and the general horrid subject matter of my fiction and travel blogs! I like this messed up phase of AI art; it’s unique, but it shouldn’t replace art because art is truth; it comes from the soul. I don’t care about your spiritual or non-spiritual beliefs; the soul is what makes us, us. 

Three.

Creativity is subjective, but NaNoWriMo has got it all twisted. You can be ‘creative’ with how you create ‘content,’ and AI is good for that. But we’re not talking about content; we’re talking about art, and also, even though it is just content, there are two distinct types of content. 

Content can either be valuable or just mindless. Videos of cute animals, posts about top 10 wallpapers, and social posts about Taylor Swift's fringe are nonsense anyway, so who gives a shit if a human or ChatGPT wrote it? I never cared who cooked my crack cocaine; I just smoked that shit. 

Some content of value can be AI-written, like instructions, but content of value is terrible and has been for a long time. It’s all cookie-cutter shit. Regurgitated ideas, re-done over and over and over and over. Even when it was mostly written by humans, it was still written FOR AI—because of SEO.

SEO content is dictated by the algorithm of Google and some others. SEO is decided by crawlbots. AI has been running the game for over a decade anyway. It’s too late. But, give us content with value, value from your world experience and knowledge, and that is what should win and what we all need and crave. So fuck AI generated. 

But, for writing stories, books, novellas, scripts, shorts, and poems, no. No. No. 

For an alleged champion of creativity and expression and helping people’s ‘voices’ get heard, NaNoWriMo have lost their way and shot themselves in the pussy or dick or pussy formed from a dick. They need to be very clear about how AI is used and what it’s used for. Because every arsehole south of Skegness is selling eBooks or courses on how to write eBooks with AI. It’s nothing special. It’s nothing imaginative. It’s not creativity; it’s a creative way to rinse money with zero effort. 

Our voice is our truth, and others resonate with it. To allow the option for full-on AI-generated writing is pure fuckery. Your art is your truth. There is nothing benefiting the world by generating entire stories with AI. It will make things shitter than they already are.

The arts have already become incredibly sanitised. They’ve been sanitised so much they’ve become rotten. And that rot is perpetuated by insidious megacorporations who would happily murder your grandmother for 20% yearly growth. Fuck them and the horse they fucked. 

I feel the human brain will reject completely AI-generated stuff the same way it rejects film special effects—your brain just knows, and it’s no longer impressed, just like my old boss. Fuck him and his scooter he rode off of a cliff on. 

I have dabbled with ChatGPT to write stuff; it’s super quick, but it’s also super-inhuman. I generated a blog post about how the economy works, and what I saw was the use of verbs that no human uses, such as foster and fostering. It used this so many times I thought it was taking the piss and proceeded to berate it. Top tip for the ladies: if one of your pals disappears for a few days and returns spouting words like foster and fostering, bash her brains in with a spade—she’s been Stepford Wive’d! 

And try and write about something ‘problematic.’ 

Me: ChatGPT, please give me 10 talking points about the long-lasting psychological effects of child abuse for an online article. 

ChatGPT: Here is a number for a child abuse counsellor and an affiliate link for Better Help. 

Me: Fuck you.

If you want to write a shit novel using ChatGPT for everything, go ahead, but you won’t be a writer; you’ll be a prompt engineer. And that’s fine; be a good one and make cash. But you are no writer.

Sometimes we must choose to discriminate for the greater good, and sometimes we must decide not to become part of something that discriminates against us.

I have no interest in being invited to a Chinese Catholic’s only seminar, and they have no interest in me being there. Fine. I have no interest in doing a writing community that won’t accept my AI-generated content and will berate me; I’ll go where I am welcome. So, make sure they know that they’re not writers or artists; they are content generators. 

I am not classist, I have no class; anyone can write and should—but THEY should write and not give a fuck about grammar nazis or literary snobs. 

I am dyslexic, and I only discriminate against those without a disability; I’m just so edgy like that. If you can’t write, then learn how to or do something else with your time. Why write if you have nothing to say or haven’t experienced anything? What’s the point? Money? Props? Respect? 

Be a fucking drug dealer, shoot someone, lose your family, then write about it.

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I allocate these groups into the folder:

Useful Speculation That Needs Investigation.

There is one group of Covid enthusiasts, however, that has nothing useful to offer. There is one group that cannot tolerate any questions. There is one group that is devoid of humour, self-awareness, and everyday sanity:

The Covid Mask Enthusiasts. 

Let’s spare ourselves the mask debate and, like our hideous overlords keep shitting out their mouths, follow the science — masks are a comfort blanket and don’t do much. Mask-loving countries where it’s as common as wearing skin found out when they couldn’t even pat the curve on the head, let alone flatten it. But the Covid Mask Enthusiasts (aka CME) are fanatical about masks. 

I have recently had the ugly joy of having my Twitter feed invaded by these very special little guys and their transparent-secret window licking. They can’t post about anything except that they wear a mask and so should you, and Covid is still here and its going to kill everyone. I have yet to see any post saying the pandemic isn’t over who doesn’t also love wearing a mask.

There are all types of accounts, and many are dedicated to solely spreading the message of masking and the pandemic being well and truly alive. There are also accounts that appear to businesses but also solely spread the message of masking and the pandemic being well and truly alive! I even discovered an account claiming to be a satirist, and their sole focus was satirising people who aren’t worried about covid and don’t wear masks—I thought it was a very meta satire until they blocked me. They were doing satire, but unintentionally. 

I have often reposted or replied to their inane streams of consciousness, and 9.987656 times out of 10 I am instantly blocked. No rebuttal. No attack. All fear. Blocking is the same comfort blanket as the mask. 

Who are they and what is their problem — seems obvious, I know! I travel constantly, and since the time I think the pandemic officially ended, early 2023, I have seen about 5 people wearing masks in 8 countries. The sheer volume of CMEs on Twitter the last few weeks can only point to one sensible conclusion: they stay in doors, mostly alone; 100% masked.

Their problem?

It’s not Covid.

There has been a theme to — including this one — my last three newsletters. We often hear of rates of anxiety and depression skyrocketing in the West. We often hear about angry and scared groups of people losing their plop over all kinds of things — murdered children, monkey pox, the climate. All of these people have been injected with crippling fear, and this fear fuels hatred and paranoia, so no wonder they are a little depressed and anxious. The powerful in our society, the legacy media, tech corporations, and governments, have either been turning groups insane—working classes—or manufacturing insane groups—the Covid Mask Enthusiasts. They have done this with relentless fear narratives, and they won’t stop, and they won’t be held accountable because we will destroy each other instead of uniting and devouring our oppressors!

The CMEs are very similar to NPCs, as they are useless, useful idiots. They have been so effectively brainwashed with fear that we now have a pandemic of agoraphobia and anthropophobia. These poor piglets are too far gone, and the rest of us have to spend our time dealing with their insanity while nothing gets done. They want the pandemic to last forever because at least then they can feel like a sane person in an insane situation. 

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They responded. It was defensive. They couldn’t answer questions. They projected and responded, “Why are you attacking me?” What kind of birthed soul-bearer believes questions are attacks? 

Ah! Check the bio. All the boxes have been checked. I knew exactly what this person believed in, supported, and hated before I even clicked on their profile. And there it all was for the eye to yawn at: multiple flags in handle (Ukraine, Palestine, LGBTQ%$£&); declarations of pronouns; posts about wearing masks and how everyone should wear one until they exited the afterlife and entered the next realm that many don’t even know about. 

How was I — a mere armchair thug — able to know so much? Marketing persona genius? Tarot-card-reading, crystal-ball enthusiast? No. The online party is full of NPC guests. I have been learning the patterns of behaviour of NPCs since before they were gifted a name. 

It was 2015 when I developed these crucial skills, and mostly on Facebook. There was a migrant crisis, and ISIS was still number 1 trending. Many Brits were scared of men, of mostly fighting age (the SEO buzz-term of the year), who were flooding the UK borders. I noticed that most of these Brits had the same interests and profiles. A started to curate a flawless checklist:

• - loves football and banter

• - loves dogs

• - Union Jack or St. Georges flag in profile or banner

• - a love for dogs and disdain for dog abusers

• - would happily set fire to men with vans and sweets

• - would often share patriotic meme posts with “share if you agree” as the CTA.

• - many would be shaven-headed and live in dump towns.

After a while, it became too easy. I could suss a person out in 0.89 seconds. It impressed my friends — they thought I was a social media genius. All these people were cliches and stereotypes. But as time has stampeded on, I have discovered even more types, and I’m more bored and uninspired as each year increases in volume. 

Most people have become so predictable that humanity and the authorities that love to bang us up in Belmarsh for writing amusing haikus about gay shawarma chefs have a predicament: how can humans tell nefarious bots from NPC? 

Most people have become so close to bots. I have delirious fantasies in the bath about NPCs taking strolls during storms and getting struck by lightning and turning into real, sentient personas just like Johnny 5. But I think I have the answer to separating bots from NPCs. 

It’s fear. Bots don’t have any fear.

How do you decipher fear? The men who posted non-stop about migrant fighting men from brown countries were clearly scared, like most everyday men, by the spectre of the Islamic bogeyman. This bogeyman had been pushed and fine tuned for over a decade. Isis was the impressively terrifying and superior sequel to the lame joke of an original: Al Qaeda. 

You want to try something difficult and challenging? Try consuming any news during 2014, 2015, 2016, and 2017 about Isis — which was 96% of all news, including the weather and football — and not shit your pants so much you tried to buy an RPG from Silk Road. These men, who have gotten older and influenced their babies, were terrified. Their fears were also confirmed often enough to validate their paranoia. Pop concerts were bombed, Friday nights turned into slasher films, and train journeys were incinerated. 

They were all NPCs, but they weren’t bots. The driving force was fear. The left-leaning version of the NPC is also scared but ignominiously terrified of things that are three hundred thousand inches from the level of fear induced by Isis. They wear masks. 

Mask wearing is like flags in bio and other tiresome virtue signals and could be dismissed as such, or you could say all of these behaviours are signs of fear. Virtue signalling is primarily driven by the fear of rejection from the group. Not saying “all refugees are welcome here” will have you lynched. Not calling scared carpenters gammon will have you donkey-punched at dawn. But I think masks are a more genuine sign of fear, just like the men-of-fighting-age. 

Just like Isis in their prime years, Covid was king of fear news cycles — and it was more terrifying but less so at the same time. Isis didn’t force the government to put you all on a naughty list and banished you into your hovel. Between 2020 and early 2023, Covid reigned. You may have forgotten that, as have many, but some will never let it lie — the leftwing NPC. 

It’s child’s play to dismiss masks. You may say it was a way for the government to exert control over the people. Possible. But I think it was just a simple stroke of genius. The West had been losing the plot very early during covid; the hoarding of toilet paper was the only idea they had to combat the virus. The government’s had lost the plot too, and in the end they saw that this wasn’t going away and that the economy was going down the dirt bowl. They’d shot themselves in the dick. They and the media had scared the pants off humans, and they weren’t doing enough stuff to make sure the economy functioned. They’d already sold the premise that the only road to salvation was the vaccine, but the vaccine was way out of sight. So they just decided to tell everyone that, actually, they’d gotten the whole mask thing wrong and everyone should wear one, even whilst sleeping alone in an isolation chamber. They knew what people needed was a comfort blanket to get them back into supermarkets and buying shit. Masks are like gin — it doesn’t actually solve your problems, but it does wash the pain away. 

I think the NPCs of the left love masks because it’s the only thing that makes them feel safe. It makes no logical sense, but logic doesn’t drive the behaviour of the masses. If it did, then Taylor Swift would work at an ice cream kiosk and nobody would vote. The masses wanted to be told there was a solution, and they were given one. As a man who lived in Asia during this time, it was quite fascinating watching the UK become a lover of masks. I had always thought the Asians mostly did it for two reasons — comfort and a sign of solidarity — and wondered if this practice, along with covid itself, might bring the fractured sides of the aisle together. No. It obviously just became a tool of division. Whiteys wearing masks! How funny that is.

The problem for the mask-loving NPCs is that masks are the only comfort they have. The vaccine, whether they admit it or not, was a colossal failure and was delivered with audacious lies. The NPCs don’t believe in it. They’ll still queue up for their 28^th booster, but it’s just mindless routine at this point. They have retreated mentally. The mask is the only thing they have to reduce their social anxiety — bots don’t have crippling social anxiety. 

The NPC may have a glimmer of humanity hidden deep behind their sunken eyes, but don’t get it twisted: you can have an equally engaging conversation with a bot. The NPC has no objective. They don’t create. They don’t start anything (bots actually do!), and they don’t finish anything. They just exist to maintain and stay in a cycle of usefulness for those who need them to make bank — big bank. 

The main difference between a bot and a NPC is that bots influence NPCs, but NPCs don’t influence bots.