I Don't Do This For You...

 "The People to fear are not those who disagree with you, but those who disagree with you and are too cowardly to let you know..." -- Napoleon Bonaparte

I was informed last night -- and it wasn't the first time -- that someone I have considered a friend for many years finds this drivel a whole lot of things that end in -IST.

Not only that, but apparently I'm mean, nasty, chauvinistic, unfair and probably practice poor oral hygiene, too.

The lady (it's almost always a 'her') in question, however, does not engage me directly to express her outrage, but rather attempts to deliver the message through third parties. If she would like to have a discussion with me about why I often think the way I do, I would love to have that talk. I don't think it would do any good, but at least I could watch her flounder like a landed fish, searching for a retort or a point that would somehow change me 'for the better'.

As if.

It doesn't get any better than this.

Now, disagreement between friends is something we all have to deal with from time-to-time, and that's all well-and-fine: Life is nothing, if not with disagreements popping up every so often to add some spice.

There are, however, some questions I'd like to ask, if I could, assuming I see this person more often than I do:

1. If it bothers you, why do you keep reading it?

2. By various counts, some 3,000,000 million people have read something I've written over 20 years. So, if I'm such a bore and uncouth human being, why do they keep reading? By the way, how many people, by comparison, have read anything you've ever written?

People read because they agree, or at least, are willing to give my argument(s) a fair hearing. One of her complaints is that I'm the close-minded one.

3. At what point did you find it necessary to object and why can't you ask me about it instead of sending others out to express displeasure on your behalf?

4. Is this really about my opinions or is it really about the potential social approbation you think you may suffer by mere association?

5. Criticism is all well and fine. I accept that I'm going to get some, often a lot of it. But other than throwing around a lot of buzzwords, a basket full of shop-worn social tropes and distaste without context, what are you adding to this hypothetical discussion we're not having?

Something you learn very early on writing opinion pieces is that people tend to take what you write and personalize it. In other words, they see something of themselves in what you write. Often the reaction to this is some form of denial -- 'I'm not really like that!'-- but you really are and the revelation bothers you.

Other times, there are people who are negative just for the sake of being negative. If I were intellectually honest (and I try to be) I would say I've been guilty of this from time to time, as well.

Then there are those who are quarrelsome or contrary just because they think there's something to be gained in being so. The Number One complaint I get from friends and family, at the least, is that what I write 'makes them look bad' in the eyes of others. It somehow hurts their social standing to be associated with 'someone like' me.

Generally speaking, the social cachet you believe you're obtaining by distancing yourself from me turns out to be largely worthless. Mostly because the people whose admiration or friendship you are seeking are typically dumber than dogshit and essentially worthless when the defecation hits the ventilation and you actually NEED them. Their friendship is conditional but you just haven't realized it, yet. The same people whose opinions you take as your own would turn on you in a heartbeat 99% of the time, so why work so hard to keep them within your orbit?

Bad news for you: Human Beings, in general, suck...hard...a good many follow the metaphorical sucking with a metaphorical swallow, as well.

And it's always the same SORT that has these complaints: wanna-be, middle class females playing at Real Housewives who proclaim loudly and proudly that they would like to spit on me, and then, in a stunning pirouette that would impress the Bolshoi, wouldn't think twice about asking me for help, advice and/or money.

(As a side note, this person has asked me for advice on a serious issue, more than once, and gladly accepted it).

Now, I have no personal animus towards this lady. She's almost family, in many ways, and while I'm amused at the fact that she finds something outrageous (The Overlord enjoys setting people off just to watch the reaction -- you sometimes have to make your own fun, after all) I'm also disappointed that she believes she can't come to me and express her distress.

Because I need even more fun.

Another thing you learn doing this sort of stuff is that you cannot, ever, please everyone.

I don't try to. I gave up caring about what other people think a very long time ago. There's usually no virtue in it, there's little to be gained, and all you do is waste your time attempting to acquire the admiration and attention of people who, on a good day, might be able to shit on their own without government or medical assistance

The average person is a fucking idiot.

It's as obvious as the nose on your face and if you don't see it then you may have a problem that will not be solved by criticizing me. If that's the sort of affirmation you need to cope with life, then I'm not your issue.

I've known this lady for at least 25 years. She is good people. I can freely admit that and I would say that, on a personal level, my own life has been somewhat enriched by our association. If she ever really needed me, for anything, I would be the first on her doorstep to offer whatever I could. It should also be known to her that you can talk to me about anything you'd like to, and to be as excitable and direct as you'd like: I have thick skin and I'm not the sort to let a disagreement between friends turn into a Cold War between ex-friends.

The Overlord is something of a (very, very, very) minor celebrity in these parts. This doesn't mean I get the best tables in the best restaurants, nor does it mean I have been collecting special privileges or favors for writing my innermost mental sludge on this electronic page. It does mean that, very often, when I'm introduced to new people, the introducer feels it necessary to tell them what I do, whether it is this word vomit or my podcasting activities.

The reaction is either 'Damn, Dude! You say what I really feel!' or 'get this piece of shit away from me!' (this reaction is usually delayed -- they read or watch before forming that opinion, but only after they have been introduced to it), and which reaction you get largely depends, I've found, on relative levels of intelligence, sense of humor, but mostly upon (very shallow) political grounds.

For example, the 'For Show Feminist' types -- those who will faithfully parrot every dribble of nonsense uttered by another vagina, but who do so from behind the safety of a six-figure spouse, a four-bedroom Cookie Cutter McMansion and the security that only comes when someone else is paying your bills and solving your problems for you -- find me very anti-Woman and often have a visceral reaction to what is written here.

Mostly what they object to is that they know I'm right. Their own existence and circumstances prove it. They just don't like that someone has figured out their game and called them out on it.

There's the room-temperature IQ that votes democrat ('small 'd' intentional) only because she needs to prove that she 'cares' more than you do. Ask about what, and you usually find yourself talking to someone who suddenly needs cognitive therapy and cannot express herself without a string of four letter words and repetition of boilerplate libtard puked up by (P)MSNBC. This affinity of 'people who care' leads her into the realm of groupthink from which she shall never escape.

And it's not just women, either. You occasionally get the hard-boiled fucktard of the odd (ambiguously-) male dolt who has no reading comprehension skills and accuses you of saying or writing something you've never written, done or said.

In both cases, if you ask them to describe just what it is that put the itch in their rectum they either can't answer, can't remember but they're sure it happened,  or they'll tell you they heard it from someone else and that's all the proof they need.

That sort just wants validation from a crowd. Again, proving the average human being is a fucking idiot.

So, I get a lecture last night from one of my best friends (who also happens to be female, but knows me very well, indeed, and is not offended in the least) that Jane (not her real name) has sand in her vagina over some things I've said or advocated for, past, present and probably future.

Somehow, I got the sense of female passive-aggressive coming through this; that Jane doesn't wish to associate with me because she disagrees. There is a subtext that maybe, just maybe, if I moderated what I have to say -- use words that other people I wouldn't give the time of day to might find more socially-acceptable -- that, perhaps, we might see more of each other, and that the reason why she doesn't hang out more often with this other friend is because of the possibility of me being there, as well.

I could also be very wrong about all of that, but, in all seriousness, it's not like I care.

I laughed through the entire thing.

Here's the secret, if you haven't figured it out by now:

I don't do any of this -- write or put my ugly mug in front of a bunch of cameras -- for YOU. I do this for ME.

(And speaking of which, there's some great and not-so-great news regarding The Idiot's Perspective which I will get into momentarily).

Part of the reason I vent my spleen here is because if I didn't, a lot of you would be un-alived. This isn't because I'm some sort of deranged, homicidal lunatic, it would be because in the Great Logic of the Universe, you are about as useful as an anal wart, and lack it's charm, as well.

I'm a great believer in keeping the gene pool crystal clear and in proper Ph balance.

Secondly, I do this because, in a way, I enjoy it. I enjoy it for a variety of reasons, not least of which is getting a rise out of the rubes, especially the ones who have to acquire a hernia in explaining just why whatever I've written doesn't apply to THEM. The mere fact that you feel compelled to do so is a clear indication that I'm right over the fucking target.

The Overlord loves nothing more, little else gives him such sublime pleasure, as being proven RIGHT. It's one of the darker aspects of my personality, granted, but few things other than Marlboros and orgasms produce as much unbridled joy. In a world that is starkly barren of much to enjoy, you have to find your pleasures where you can.

Otherwise, you're a slave to 500 channels of complete dipshit and trying to live up to the standards of people who have none, or worse, only have double ones.

Sorry, not playing that game.

Thirdly, and I have had people (especially women) tell me this. They may find my opinions disgusting. They find my language hard to digest. They find my directness off-putting. But they can't help but like me, anyway.

I'm a very likable guy. You just have to overcome a series of hurdles to find this out. Most people don't want to bother. The reward for making the effort is this:

You will not find a more loyal friend. You will not find someone who will tell you inconvenient truths, not as a form of criticism or symbol of dislike, but as a genuine means of helping you out. I'd give you the shirt off my back, and my underwear, too (don't mind the stains), if I care for you. You can have my bed, if you need it, my food, if you want it. This evening, for example, I'm taking two friends to dinner, and picking up the check(s), just because I WANT TO.. You need a lift, advice, an ear to bend, a shoulder to cry on, you've got it, no questions asked.

In return, all you have to do is be honest with me and reciprocate, which is easy to do because I rarely ask anyone for anything.

That includes being direct with me. You don't need a messenger. I'm a Big Boy and don't take an awful lot personally. When I do take things personally, believe me, it isn't a trivial matter that evoked that state; you done fucked up.

So, Jane, stop being a pussy, so to speak, and come talk to me directly. if that is beyond your ability or not to your liking, then while it makes me sad that we don't see one another as much as I'd like, then do us both a favor and stop reading...and bitching.

On the subject of The Idiot's Perspective, we have recently received a letter from Spotify stating that our content is being taken down in something like 180+ countries. This represents 90% of the planet, more or less, and the reason given is that we have somehow violated a whole slew of international copyright laws regarding some of the music used during the podcast.

Now, the music we use is AI generated by a service for which we have paid a subscription fee for. The terms of service of said provider clearly state that anything we use from it is governed by the doctrine of 'Fair Use' and that, in any case, having paid the subscription, we're licensed to use that content.

Our subscription was to run until late 2026. Apparently, the provider -- retroactively -- changed it's terms of service to conform to international law (usually places you wouldn't take a dump in without having all of your shots first), nullifying the license without notice and then taking the content down in consequence.

The one that hurts the most is Israel.

In any case, I do not believe (as yet) this was done maliciously, but it is rather a shitty thing to do. At the time that music was used, we had a license to use it. There seems to be no 'grandfather' clause here. Which leads me to believe this is, yet again, a matter of mindless bureaucracy at work.

Bureaucrats, by and large, are even dumber than the usual assortment of human garbage. They also seem to take great delight in inflicting their own fuckwit on you, because that's what useless and incompetent people do.

It's why 'woke' exists, after all. If we can't all be truly equal, then we'll make sure the superlatively equal get pulled down to the level of the lowest common denominator and then torment them with fucktard.

In other podcast news, the Idiot's Perspective may...it's still way, way up in the air, at this point... be coming to a television network sometime in the near future.

Hide the women, children and livestock.

And eat THAT, Jane. No one wants to put you on television, do they?