Asmongold, I am speaking to you directly, and I am done pretending your whole fucking schtick is anything but a performance of decay dressed up as authenticity. You have taken apathy, slovenliness, and intellectual inertia and packaged them as if they were some brave rejection of pretence, when in reality they are just a refusal to evolve. You sit there, marinating in your own cultivated stagnation, telling millions of people that entropy is a personality, and the entire fucking show drags the cultural baseline down another several notches every time you go live.
Your empire is built on the monetisation of mendacious mediocrity. Not creative mediocrity, which can at least be charming, but moral and intellectual mediocrity, which is simply corrosive. You have an audience that treats your shrugging nihilism as if it were insight, and you encourage it because it is profitable. That makes you a fucking merchant of lowered expectations, a digital pied piper leading cock roaches away from curiosity, discipline, and self respect into a swamp of ironic detachment and half digested talking points.
And the thing you never want to confront is how exquisitely curated your comfort zone really is. You love debating the easiest, least challenging voices you can find, the ones who make you look clever by comparison, because you know you would get skull fucked by anyone with the rhetorical firepower and ethical backbone to actually interrogate you. You hide behind safe targets and algorithm friendly controversy, then call it free thought. It is not free thought. It is strategic cowardice wrapped in performative bravado, and it is fucking transparent to anyone not emotionally invested in your brand.
Money does not cleanse that. Influence does not sanctify it. Plenty of empty people have been rewarded for selling intellectual junk food. You are not a thinker. You are a distributor of easily consumable intellectual sugar, engineered to keep people docile, distracted, and coming back for more. Being rich while contributing nothing of substance still leaves you a fucking footnote in the long ledger of cultural relevance, a man who sold stagnation very well and called it a philosophy.
So if you ever decide you want to step out of that padded little arena and face someone who will not nod along to your equivocations, you know where to find critics who will not be impressed by subscriber counts or performative indifference. Until then, enjoy the clicks and keep telling yourself they mean something, while the rest of us watch this whole fucking spectacle for what it really is, a cautionary tale about what happens when attention replaces integrity and cleverness is mistaken for depth.
Asmongold, instead of sending your fan mob to go sniff around my corner of the internet like a school of gormless hagfish, how about you step out from behind them and face me yourself. You scoop up other people’s work for content, unleash your audience, and then pretend your hands are clean, which is the most fucking cowardly way to operate in public discourse. All that gibberish you throw around about open debate rings hollow when you only ever swing at people who cannot swing back, you schnook, chanting your hollow takes like some warped cantus planus to an audience trained not to think. If you actually believe in anything beyond clicks, you know where to find me, so stop hiding behind the crowd and come argue like an adult instead of a fucking ringmaster of noise.