Pariahs: Creative and Intelligent Men in America
They always make it seem like you’re the one that has the problem. Whether it’s family, or sheeple at work, or especially women, a man is marked for elimination from social circles and mating rituals if he thinks and acts in different ways from the herd.
You aren’t good enough for a fuck or a friend if you don’t pass what I term the “committee test.”
The herd only respects the herd. Even if the herd is figuratively wandering off a cliff and an astute observer tells them all there’s a canyon up ahead, the hapless individual who notices impending demise will be cast out of the social circle before the sheeple change course. Walter Lippman wrote of the herd instinct in the masses:
Where all think alike, no one thinks very much.
Indeed, studies have shown rationals, i.e. thinking people make up a minute 10% of the human population. The great masses are made up primarily of SJs and SPs according to psychologist Carl Jung’s work, later refined into the Myers-Briggs personality instrument. These are people who literally have to be told what to do, and are wired to groupthink everything they do.
Hence, the ongoing destruction of individuality in a socially engineered, 21st century America in which the power structure has realized this quirk of human sociology gives them almost unlimited power.
The elite have realized (for thousands of years, but with more clarity now than ever) the herd thinks in dualities: God vs. The Devil; good vs. evil, us vs. them, Republican vs. Democrat, right vs. wrong. There are no gray areas for irrational people. They want to attack something, and those who pull the strings in society tell them what to attack and what not to attack.
Nothing is more frightening in a culture that views men as beasts of burden and meal tickets than a man who thinks and acts in his own interest, and who eschews the life script commanded of him from childhood – one that tells him to unquestioningly prostrate himself before women and society and let them take full advantage of his productivity. A life script designed to exploit his body and his goodwill with nothing in return.
I know this scenario well because I lived it. Identified in elementary school as a kid with high intelligence, and set aside from the rest of the class to learn at my own pace since testing revealed I was so far ahead of the other students, my “different” status initially earned me a lot of interest and intrigue. It was hip to be the smart kid.
I later learned to hide my intelligence to fit in, and did a damn good job of it as I became quite popular through about 7th grade.
Things were going well, that is, until adolescence and beyond. I don’t know what it is about Anglo culture, but it absolutely despises boys, and later, men who possess gifts of high intelligence and/or creativity. Encouraged to take the “safe” path by counselors and other school officials sold on the magic pill known as college, I basically ostracized myself and became a pariah for no longer hiding my intelligence and my tangential interests in middle school and high school. It was 4 of the most miserable years of my life.
Richard Wright’s Native Son summarizes my experience:
They hate because they fear, and they fear because they feel that the deepest feelings of their lives are being assaulted and outraged. And they do not know why; they are powerless pawns in a blind play of social forces.
Since everyone at my school knew I was “tainted” with the curse of being both creative and intelligent, I had to date girls from other schools in order to have any experience with the opposite sex. With them, I could pretend I was another average idiot. As college came and went, of course, it was high school all over again, as was the case with much of my media career. I did fairly well with women through my early 30s, with a notch count of around 30 women and some definite hotties in that time frame.
But sublimated underneath the social ostracization was the person I really was. The adventurer, traveler, the daredevil, risk-taker, smooth talker. I could never reveal those parts of myself in this culture because as soon as my mouth opened and I had interests outside pop culture, football, and the banality the masses obsess over, nobody ever took the time to get to know me.
That is, until I started leaving Anglo culture.
Something about being outside the anti-life and anti-living myopia I suffered through most of my life finally drew out my best qualities. And even though I am literally doing better now than I ever have in my entire life, pulling off things even I didn’t think was possible, nobody from Anglo culture even acknowledges my accomplishments or my love of life on social media. I am still the black sheep of the family and all the people I grew up with.
All the likes and comments I get when I share my experiences and adventures are primarily from black, Spanish, and Asian people. Literally. It’s astounding to me to witness Anglos still try to marginalize me when so many others encourage me and tell me they live vicariously through me. Machiavelli wrote of this unfortunate reality:
He who innovates will have for his enemies all those who are well off under the existing order of things, and only lukewarm supporters in those who might be better off under the new… partly from the incredulity of mankind, who will never admit the merit of anything new, until they have seen it proved by the event.
There is one humorous caveat to my ongoing exclusion from Anglo social groups. Since the more colorful parts of myself have been drawn out by exposure to more open-minded and libertine cultures, I have girls I went to school with who never paid me any attention now seeking me out on social media. It’s entertaining to witness. But, I don’t need them as any regular reader knows I’ve gone through 150 women and counting since becoming the devil may care asshole, rather than living the well-practiced façade Anglo culture foisted upon me for so long. (They still criticize me even though they’re drawn to me like a moth to a flame…ah, female psychology.)
I now know there was nothing wrong with me from the beginning. It was this damn culture I grew up in that nearly suffocated the life out of me. George Carlin touches on this pressure to conform in the Anglosphere:
The larger the group, the more toxic, the more of your beauty as an individual you have to surrender for the sake of group thought. And when you suspend your individual beauty you also give up a lot of your humanity. You will do things in the name of a group that you would never do on your own. Injuring, hurting, killing, drinking are all part of it, because you’ve lost your identity, because you now owe your allegiance to this thing that’s bigger than you are and that controls you.
I told you all that to tell you this. This isn’t an article about victimization. We are not simpering leftists. It is about realizing fitting in is not a lofty goal. Make use of your gifts, and fuck what other people think. If you find yourself a pariah in this culture, pat yourself on the back because you are probably doing the right things for yourself as a man and a human being.
Everyone else focuses on the asshole in front of them rather than getting out from behind the other sheep in the flock for a different perspective.
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