It is probably the greatest irony ever: We fought a seventy-year battle against a totalitarian system that prohibited free speech, and having won it, we adopted the very system we defeated and imposed it on ourselves. The easiest way of shutting down free speech is by using the R-word. Call someone a racist and all doors close, and needless to say no smug progressive, no arch feminist, no super-woke riffraff has failed to use it at the slightest disagreement. It’s the easiest way to impose one’s opinion since the advent of the Colt 45.
Actually we live in an age where people want to cancel other people out, to disappear them. No one ever feared Torquemada or Savonarola as much as they fear the Twitter mob today.
The last line is the one that got me. At the moment my site is being hammered once again by a wave of unknown visitors coming from a strange and mystical location, also known as Facebook.
Someone linked on that social media dredge-stain to my article the other day that us blokes would do better to avoid the really smart chicks as they are more trouble than they are worth. I have no doubt that many sets of dentures are being gnashed in the comments on Facebook, yet all I get on my stats is the fact that a few hundred blow-ins have stopped by from Facebook. There is no specific Facebook page mentioned so I don’t know who they are or what they’re saying.
Which is great. I get the hits without having to put up with their rubbish. Not only do I not know what is being said about me, I simply do not care. Give a shit factor = zero.
A month or so ago I had my biggest day ever on the old blog. Facebook, Instagram and Twitter all bombarded me with thousands of views as the drooling hordes rushed in to consume my awful product. Many keyboards were undoubtedly laid to waste as frenzied efforts were deployed to type me into oblivion. But I remained blissfully impervious to the attacks as I could not read them even if I wanted to.
You only succumb to Twitter if you are on Twitter.
For me the mob is simply irrelevant. And keep in mind that I have my actual identity up for display. Bring me your worst insults, I crave them. Cast me into your Twitter mob pits of despair and I will emerge more uncaring than before. I literally cannot give two shits what they say about me. Their loathing is directly proportionate to my uncaring.
So when I read about folks being harried to an early grave by social media mobs, I sigh with some exasperation. How can someone be so weak as to be cowed by these degenerate nothings? They are flotsam on the dregs of my boots. They lack any ideas and original thought. They are mere jellyfish, and not even that. After all, the jellyfish have survived for 300 million years without a brain while the Twitter outrage mobs have only managed to do that for a few decades.
You cannot be disappeared by Twitter mobs. Rather, you have to allow them to do it to you. The victim of the Twitter mob has to be a willing participant in the process. Which ultimately means that they are deserving victims. Culling the herd, so to speak. The left’s herd is not culled of their weak points because being weak is a prerequisite for entry into the team of the woke. And we don’t care to cull them. Let them devour their own. There are not many greater delights than to watch that in action.
So if you don’t mind, color me unimpressed and unmoved by the long list of the Twitter mobs’ vanquished. They were weak. So bye bye and thanks for bowing out. I have no fear of the Twitter mobs for the simple fact that it is a toothless tiger. Bring them on, let them rant by the millions. I will luxuriate in the silence of the unknowing.
If a million Twitter mobs cry out in anger but the intended victim doesn’t care to hear, then there’s a tree in a forest that’s silently falling somewhere.