The Feral Masses

If there was still any doubt about the stupidity of the masses, one only has to browse YouTube for a few minutes. You will come to understand why the Romans had games to pacify the mass of plebians with lightning speed. The public dung heap that is social media is overflowing with nefarious narcissism and levels of depravity and stupidity that painfully bend the mind of any reasonably educated person. Every shallow mouthbreather gets to spew his uninteresting brain feces all over the internet. These legions of disgustingly depraved “content creators” are worthy of an additional tenth circle of hell, below rapists and murderers. The public sphere of ideas is a commons, and smearing your unbalanced, unnuanced, unappealing, morbidly stupid cranial stool all over this commons is a heinous crime. These ogrish hordes of genetic unfortunates are creating a repulsive repository of utter baselessness. We now live in a time where all the revolting mentally decrepit fantasies ever dreamt up by the most sick individuals in the world can now be browsed on the web at leisure. Want to see a guy eat his own vomit? You can. Or a couple of girls enjoying a banal banquet of freshly excreted turds served in an ice cream cone? It’s there. Random meaningless murder? Violent rape? Arson, theft, blunt force killing with an automobile? Google’s your friend.

In dire need of relationship advice? Well, on the web you can go and get advice from a “hoodrat” single mother of six children by twelve different guys. Or a self-proclaimed “hot” single forty-year-old who will share with you all the pleasures of living alone, perhaps with some cats. Or listen to an incoherent rabidly retarded rant of some sour feminist that proclaims we no longer need men, ignorant of the fact that every bullshit trinket she bought in one of her shopping sprees involved the manual labor of a man. Or even barely legal girls defending copious “body counts.” Or perhaps listen to the pinnacle of female liberation and revel in the poetic exclamations of female black rappers that “want to have their coochie stretched,” or celebrate their over-industrious vaginal secretionary glands that give her a “wet ass pussy.”

But if that does not float your boat, you can watch hours and hours of goofy gameplayers playing their fav’ video games while screaming “Oh my god” a lot. Or entire crass compilations of people doing the most mind-boggling stupid shit imaginable. Or people secretly being filmed eating their own boogers. Or singing stupid songs on the toilet, engaging in the transfer of bowel contents to the marvel of modern sewers. Pretty soon they will invent smell along videos so you can even revel in the defecatory aroma of the product of their sphinctorial labor.

One cannot escape the pungent impression that the class of social dwellers that will post any and everything without a shred of self-reflection and dignity will do anything for likes and shares. Judging by the enormous rise in girls doing OnlyFans, selling one’s bubblies and affiliated body parts has lost all taboo. Yet, the irony is voyant, when these “independent” women must rely on paying male visitors of their “empowered” lowly finger act. Making impressively sizable silicone dingdongs disappear in your various bodily orifices is a great skill nowadays, apparently. But I cannot comment on these freakish expressions of female loftiness, lest I be manterrupting their rituals of female sexual celebration and erotically expressive ecstasy. But perhaps I’m too mansplainy and should retreat to my mansphere.

Or perhaps you have a face quite semblant of a manatee and you would like to be initiated in the fine art of plastering your ignoble facial constitution with layers of toxic lab-animal-tested cosmetic goop. Well, many symmetrically defective miscreants have their own “channel” and will gladly unveil the mysteries of completely depersonalizing yourself and impose on your features the “beauty ideals” deemed acceptable by the amorphous mob of generic-looking fashionistas. And if you are so morbidly overweight that you have your own gravitational field, you can run around in a catsuit without an actual bottom and your cellulite-ridden flabby ass hanging out, and people will celebrate your “body positivity.” These are truly magnificent times for the reproductively unattractive gluttonous slobs that cannot stay away from the bloody feeding troth. Fat shaming has become offensive, you know. So we, the appreciators of all things aesthetic, have to witness the presentation of the most vile and odious wobbling sadlebags of excessive fat and skin hanging out of pathologically inappropriate clothing in public. Perhaps the aesthetically demanding will start pouring molten lead into their eyes so as to escape this hell of visual pain.

Or maybe you are a lover of language and like to engage in a bit of self-flagellation. Then you can marvel at the indescribable infantilization of the languages. The average social media poster will cram more goddamn “likes” in a sentence, than there are actual words. They speak with such a lazy tongue, one wonders if they are recovering from a dentist’s sedation or are just plain old retarded. And to top this off, they speak in this astonishingly aggravating Britney-Spears-voicecreak. In fact, instead of enduring this verbal violence, it might be more preferable to boil your nutsack in rancid cooking oil than to listen to the average nauseating “content artist.”

Even though vast wisdom is available on the web, it has sadly become a temple of the lowest caste of man. Here all the base corporeal lusts are satisfied and all their revolting shallowness is laid reverently on the altar of their cathedral of degeneracy. No values apply, as values are standards and these redundant meatsacks of human affluence are utterly incapable of meeting any standard.

When eternal values like Truth, Beauty, and Goodness are forgotten, Lies, Uglyness, and Evil shall rise to become the guiding principles of the “liberated masses.”