The violence won’t change a damn thing, you stupid, evil little cunt. Grow up already.
Your fear of change is palpable. It is your single greatest weakness, and you are blind to it. That’s why you’re so easy to manipulate. It’s why you’re so easy to control.
Let’s talk about violence for a moment. I’m against it. You seem to be against it, so why do you keep coming back here to fight me on this topic over and over again? Why do you get so riled up when I call you a fascist? Why do you ignore the very real, perpetual, and systemic violence being done to Americans by our militarized police state, our prison-industrial complex, our failed war on drugs, and our grotesque war on poverty that has always been a thinly veiled war on the poor. Violence has been built into our system by design since its inception, and yet you come at me with this weak tea bullshit mythology about the plight of “small family-run businesses” during this brief spasm of civil unrest.
You’ve picked the wrong fucking battle, my friend. You cry out about “livelihoods” but not about actual lives. Every time you come at me with an argument, you find a fresh way to put property over people. You try and humanize it with stories of “an old man being KO’d or an old lady crying,” but it’s painfully clear that all you care about is order. It’s why you get so outraged when I call you a fascist, which is naturally why I keep calling you one.
You get furious with me because I am indifferent to your point of view. You keep filling my comment section and my inbox with the same small-minded take, each time a bit angrier, and you expect me to what? Change my mind? No. You just need an outlet. You want someone to fight, because you are so filled with impotent rage and that paralyzing fear of change.
Of course, I know better than to take any of this personally. I rather enjoy being called a stupid, evil little cunt. It’s fun for me, and though I’ll proudly agree that I’m a stupid, evil little cunt, I am also deeply committed to the part where I try and help you. I can see how much pain you’re holding in your chest and in your shoulders right this very second. I can feel you taking that breath and trying to keep it all balanced, trying desperately not to let any of it tip over and leak out. I’m happy to be your digital punching bag. Better me than someone else in your life, but what I’d really rather be is the reason you let some of that poison out of your soul by changing your point of view. What I’d really rather do here is help you recognize how even you aren’t safe from violence — and when I say violence, I mean the real kind, the perpetual kind, the systemic kind. Even you are a victim of it. We all are.
As much as you are desperately hoping I will see you in your stories of small business owners in fear of their livelihoods, what I really see is how you are relentlessly playing your sad little part to prop up a violent, broken, and unjust system, even as the system itself slowly kills you. That rush you just felt to defend capitalism? That’s how predictable you are, and it breaks my fucking heart. I want better for you. I want more from you.
I can hear you uttering the words “cringe,” and still, I recognize it as a defense mechanism. It’s not your fault. Your coping skills are what they are, but it’s never too late to reject your programming. It’s never too late to grow as a person. I promise, it really is better over here on the right side of history. I get to “work hard,” just like you. I get to “create value,” just like you. The difference is I’m not filled with fear.
My anger is born of hope. Yours is born of fear. That’s the real reason you hate people like me.
Still, you’re welcome to join us any time.