Reporting Back From The "There-Is-No-Virus" War Trenches
Warning: Might trigger fanatic people
Yesterday, I poked a six-person-strong fanatic hornet's nest by publishing
First, I need to apologise for the misleading headline from yesterday.
I am 62 and old-school, and still think that people are actually reading my articles after opening them. That’s so stupid.
I think that, because I usually do.
Not always, of course.
But if I don’t read an article, I don’t comment.
I don’t write comments accusing the author of writing about things he never wrote and I never read. But that is so old school.
I get it.
It is not their fault.
They couldn’t know what I didn’t write of what they accused me of writing because they never read the article.
So they are excused to claim I wrote stuff they think I wrote, right?
It is all my bloody fault for not writing what they assumed I wrote, by only reading the headline.
Are you a little confused by now?
Welcome to the comment section war trenches, where troll snipers shoot bullshit and fanatics throw confuse grenades.
You see, I don’t interact on Twitter. I even ditched Notes.
I never learned the new way of communicating, which is mainly ignoring what everyone else says and shouting into space what I have to say.
Because I am so old, I am also forgetful.
I forget that most people have an attention span of a lobotomized fruit fly.
How can I expect them to read more than the headline before they march into the trenches of the “comments war”?
It’s all my bloody own fault.
If only I had written what they wanted me to write and claimed I wrote, they wouldn’t have needed to twist my words to fit their narrative.
When I wrote that “the virus doesn’t exist apostles can fuck off”, I never considered that some “no virus” people wouldn’t read on and therefore think I am lashing out against the “no virus debate” itself. Or science.
I don’t.
May all beings happily debate viruses forever, for or against.
Knock yourselves out, people.
Who did I tell to “fuck off” then?
Only the apostles, as my headline clearly states. The fanatics. The cultist. The Psyop agents.
I frequently said in both my “virus articles” that I don’t care and have no opinion about viruses.
I don’t give a shit about it. Clear enough?
If that offends you, see a psychotherapist and talk it through.
Not giving a shit about it means exactly that. I am neither for nor against it. It doesn’t interest me. Maybe one day I'll write about why.
But the main reason is that there are only so many hills a man can die on. I chose my hills already. Sorry, my no-virus friends. You can’t recruit me for your hill.
I am simply too busy dying on my “the fucking totalitarian technocrats will make our life a living hell” hill.
I don’t know anything about viruses and don’t want to.
But for some in the “no virus” movement, that is a serious crime.
In the comments, one fanatic ordered me “to fucking read up on it and learn the truth,” loosely quoted.
That’s why most people don’t like them.
The article triggered 200 comments in the first 36 hours, and the 20/80 rule applied. 20% of the commenters wrote 80% of the comments.
It was mostly Sasha Latipova and I vs. about six radical “the virus doesn’t exist” cultists going on and on and on about it.
If you suffer from insomnia, reading this most grotesque debate/insanity will put you to sleep in no time.
It was grotesque because one party (Sasha and I) had read the article and debated what was said in it, and the other party either didn’t read it, or didn’t understand it, or didn’t want to understand it and debated about what was not in it.
You can imagine how fascinating a debate that was.
Despite doing my best to support Sasha, who was bravely taking on all of them simultaneously, I ran out of energy and regressed to highly intellectual one-word answers like “yawn”.
Occasionally, I had some fun trolling the trolls, but overall, I felt a bit sullied afterwards. I felt I feasted with the pigs that night.
The irony didn’t escape me.
An article that was intended to get rid of rude time-wasters and fanatics ended up attracting them like fire attracts a moth. Not sure if a few got burned. I hope so.
I binged.
And paid for it this morning.
It was also some kind of turning point.
As an eager, if not slightly addicted writer, I was always looking forward to the little orange activity bell lighting up and giving me my daily dopamine kick in the morning.
That’s about the only reward you get as a minor Substack author these days.
But my hours in the comment trenches killed this small pleasure.
This morning, after being though 200 comments last night:
“What? Another fucking 60 more comments I have to read? Leave me alone.”
I don’t have to read them, let alone respond, of course. I could just ignore all the bullshit.
But these are my three seconds of limelight. I have to write for another 18 months to get so many comments again.
My ego just doesn’t allow me to ignore it.
Not yet.
I am working on it.
I made a commitment to show it to the trolls. I will refrain from giving them any attention in the future. I will starve them to death.
They already beg and tease me to ban them, but I won’t.
I can be very cruel if I must.
I won’t give them the digital martyr satisfaction and reinforce their illusion that they matter at all by banning them. In their twisted minds, they will rationalise a ban as “I am the only true dissident left, because everyone hates me and bans me.”
No, no, no.
I have something truly diabolical in mind.
I let them rant on as long as they want because eventually, everyone will understand what a waste of time they are and simply ignore them.
All that is left for them is repeating and reading their own stupid words over and over again and to realise they have lost all their trigger power over everyone.
Facing this abyss of insignificance will be pure comment war hell for them. And that’s what they deserve.
Roasting in insignificance in the comments sector hell for eternity.
It took me some time to realise all this.
I wasted a lot of time replying to them.
I justified it by thinking some of my readers expect it, and I dutifully obliged. After all, I am also a “content provider”. So let’s provide comment content.
But that is bullshitting myself, of course.
I did it because of the weird ego dopamine kicks I initially got from it. Like everyone else. And a false sense of importance and hope of creating more paid subscriptions and making an income one day.
But that is totally stupid, of course.
The best way to create an income on Substack is to choose a topic that people emotionally attach to and care about, and stick to it, no matter what.
Create a tribe.
Become a kind of social media guru who attracts people who can’t think for themselves and need someone to tell them what is right and wrong.
Like fucking Sam Harris, for example.
That’s almost religious admiration going on in that weird camp. He recently started this podcast campaign called “Ask Sam”. Others do it too.
It almost makes me vomit when I see it. A thousand people or so send in questions for Sam to answer.
“Is it good to masturbate over your Podcast three times a day, or should I do it four times a day, Sam?”
Stuff like that.
I am joking, of course. I feel I need to say that more often now because there are always new readers who don’t know my dark, dry and weird sense of humour and how I make up stories to take the piss.
No, I don’t kill off my old neighbours one by one by not taking the bin in, people. It’s a joke.
Some people, unbelievably to me, took this article for real, too:
I should have become a Donald Trump. It looks like I can convince people of the biggest bullshit I can come up with.
The other thing I miss is the ability to kiss the arse of the big boy Substack writers club.
To the contrary.
I constantly call out their hypocrisy. That behaviour doesn’t get you anywhere in Substack. You have to kiss arse.
Writing for their “tribe” takes all the subscription money on Substack. Substack is designed that way for a reason. That’s how you control the narrative.
Thousands of small writers getting ahead creates too much anarchy, and is too hard to control. Someone making big bugs here is very easy to control because they depend heavily on this platform.
That’s what I love about
and and one or two other bigger writers.They still go into battle in the comment war trenches and don’t give a fuck if and who they offened. They can’t be threatened with unsubscribes. They clearly don’t depend solely on their Substack income and don’t need to be PC, and can speak their minds freely. It’s called independence.
The other day, I saw Sasha ripping into the “holy Substack health cow”, the mysterious Midwestern Doctor and was delighted.
This guy has some really useful articles that I like very much, but something is off about him. Just my instinct talking. Despite all his useful “holistic” work, he is still deeply in the orthodox, purely science-based intellectual health camp, in my opinion. But each to their own. I just don’t feel to adore him or kiss his arse, like
The Stupified Fox …….
…..is kissing his arse at the moment because he suddenly realised a lot of money can be made with the DSMO gravy train. (PS: Nothing wrong with DMSO itself. It fucking works really well for many things in my experience)
And Jeff Childers recently did repeated grotesque word summersaults to kiss Dr. Malones arse for throwing meaningless scientific jargon around in some kind of CDC vaccine meeting trying to show the world how clever and important he is.
But no arse kissing in the comment section of my last article, I can assure you that.
But don’t expect any intellectual highlights or meaningful insights about anything. No-one knows shit about anything and eveyone pretends they do.
It makes a great amusing or sad case study, depending on how seriously you take it, on how emotionally unstable and dysfunctional some people are.
And how lonely and bored they must be, spending hours getting their knickers in a twist about nothing substantial at all.
Expect more angry hornets on this one. Let’s wear them out.
Thank you for reading.
If you read this far, you likely belong to one of two groups.
You are either a masochistically inclined person in search of pain, or you have a similar sense of humour and enjoyed it.
In both cases, you will benefit from supporting me financially.
I promise to give the masochist more pain and the humorist more humor.
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Thank you.
Hey, I was working hard last night, just to bait as many of the nutcases into spinning and levitation rage, just to make it clear how much of a cult and psyop they are. There is only one other topic around covid stuff that has the same type of a zealot-filled group - the nanobot crowd. But they are actually less aggressive and narrow minded, and sometimes actually read a sentence or two from the article before launching into the nanobot diatribe. Anyhow, this tells you again it is an organized psyop. Nobody else on any other topic behaves this way in such a consistent, repeatably produced pattern as we elicited yesterday. I must say I like your sense of humor a lot, similar to how I think about stuff.
Thanks for the article. Funny and appreciated... Things are crazy out there. Nice to read your take. Rock on.