The Imbecilitarians

The world's pretty clear cut, if you're an Imbecilitarian : there's the bad people, to wit, Libertarians and then there's the good people, the Imbecilitarian himself.

Luckily the Imbecilitarian is not alone in the world (or otherwise he wouldn't be very talkative in the first place) : the good people also comprise a vague group of those in agreement with the Holy Tenets of Imbecilitarianism. It just so happens that nobody has yet given these any sort of definite form, which is all the better seeing how this way they can't really be argued against.ⁱ

This arrangement works fabulously well in any and all circumstances where no action of practical consequence is contemplated above the very simple "let's you and me take his money". For instance, Imbecilitarians make very good unruly mobs, because hey! some other people stole those TV sets and it was government instigatorsⁱⁱ that trashed the entire neighbourhood where these people live (on public money). Government instigators armed with McDonald paper cups and oreo wrappers created the foot-and-a-half filth left behind by that 99% percent movement (doesn't matter which, they're all the same). To make a tired long story very short,

"Whodunnit ?"
"Not me."

For another instance, Imbecilitarians make very good forum populations, because by their very nature forums work as a sort of masturbation, and so the most masturbatorily-inclined group wins out in the end. A fine example of this principle would be this thread on Something Awful.ⁱⁱⁱ It discusses the June hack (or whatever it was) at MtGox plus anything and everything more or less related : Bitcoins, the people to do with Bitcoins, the evil of Libertarianism and so forth because rarely will Joe W. Imbecilitarian stick to any topic for very long. For one, he doesn't know much or have much to say about any particular, definite topic. For the other, his (defective) mental structure prevents him from keeping interest in any one subject matter for too long at a stretch - it's how he built himself into his current intellectual dead end in the first place. A vicious circle, if you will : the less you're inclined to examine anything in depth the less cause or benefit to trying.^iv

So, we chuckle at the horrible incompetence of those two fags that dare make a show on their own and by themselves, oh, the audacity. Because yes, I happen to agree : Bruce Wagner's show^v is a pinnacle of the ridiculous, the thing is painful to watch until anesthetic reflex laughter sets in. However, I also appreciate the simple bravado of two fags starting something on their own and putting it up for public display. There's something in there, a certain independence of thought that's outright anathema to the proper Imbecilitarian.

And then I chuckle at the obdurate conviction that "racism" matters. Like, for instance, if I were to say right about here that niggers are scum and there's no good reason they should be allowed indoors, animals that they are ? Well by this very simple two liner I have completely anulled anything sensible I might have said afore, and hence. It's a sort of magic, really. Works for Ayn Rand too : if she's dared say that Arabs are fuckwits then everything else she might have said is null and void. Racism card, it trumps anything, forget the simple fact that without European colonialism the rest of the world would still be wallowing in its own piss, as the places nobody bothered to properly colonise still do to this day (and yes, proper colonisation implies extermination of natives and nonwhites, as the United States among others so successfully demonstrates).

And then we stumble on, to a grandiose solo piece by one Alyssa Bereznak, some grad student (Journalism)^vi. This is a gem indeed, allow me to cherrypick :

How Ayn Rand ruined my childhood

This'd be the title, I haven't started cherrypicking yet, ok ? Just the title. Ayn Rand ruined the girl's childhood.

Obviously if someone was to write about how Nicolae Ceausescu ruined their childhood by means of, for instance, picking up their father in the middle of the night and dissapearing him forevermore in the Guantanamo Bay v1.0 (beta) that the communists ran at the time, or if someone else was to write about how Ioseb Jughashvili ruined their childhood by means of, for instance, killing his or her beloved grandparents through sheer starvation for the crime of being ethnically Ukrainian^vii in that little talked about Halloween party called Holdomor, or if any of the other billion or so people who have been metaphorically fucked in the metaphorical ass with a metaphorically spiked metaphorical watermelon by Imbecilitarians on a rampage were to thus title their experiences it'd be a different kettle of fish. But some Imbecilitarian who apparently had the option of going to school^viii and then the option of picking a college degree and she picked Journalism is in no position of bringing this argument, mostly because those billion or so unfortunate souls who were in fact destroyed by rampant Imbecilitarianism would very much prefer to switch places, if only it were possible.

Our objectivist education, however, was not confined to lectures and books. One time, at dinner, I complained that my brother was hogging all the food.

“He’s being selfish!” I whined to my father.

“Being selfish is a good thing,” he said. “To be selfless is to deny one’s self. To be selfish is to embrace the self, and accept your wants and needs.”

It was my dad’s classic response — a grandiose philosophical answer to a simple real-world problem. But who cared about logic? All I wanted was another serving of mashed potatoes.

It also happens to be a strawman argument. For instance, I know an Imbecilitarian who was convicted for rape, which he justified in front of the court very Imbecilitarianly : "Your honor, she had a cunt, I had none. She needed none, I needed some. It was only fair."

That aside, apparently telling children to sort it out among themselves is now a big problem and ruins childhoods if you didn't know. And yet

Needless to say, Dad’s newfound obsession with the individual didn’t pan out so well with the woman he married. He was always controlling, but he became even more so.

Needless to say, the nonsense doesn't wash, even if it's a few paragraphs apart. I happen to be of the sort that's capable of following the same character through more than a page, and I have some trouble intuiting how exactly some "very controlling" type couldn't be arsed to specify the manner in which children are to split their mashed potatoes. Do you ?

I argued with a Birkenstock-clad substitute teacher the day he showed Michael Moore’s classic underdog-bites-back documentary “Roger and Me” in government class. He looked at me in disbelief as I, a skinny blond girl with braces, insisted that General Motors CEO Roger Smith had every right to ruin the lives of Flint, Mich., citizens.

In case you only heard of Moore sometime five weeks after finally "getting online" on this fascinating Information Superhighway everyone else's talking about, the guy's been an Imbecilitarian darling for at least thirty years by now, mostly due to the vapid, content-free crap he tends to produce. In this particular case, Roger and Me is the self aggrandizing opus of hounding down someone famous in a desperate yet ridiculous attempt to somehow carve a name for oneself. By association, as it were, Moore was trying to become famous as "that guy who shot Reagan to impress Foster" or "that guy who stabbed Seles so the other girl could win". Maybe something rubs off of the General Motors CEO and makes Moore something noteworthy.

Unfortunately for Moore, on top of nobody giving a crap about his antics the winter of 1989 was also when the previous Imbecilitarian state dissolved, making his cultural irrelevance even more painstakingly clear. But leaving that aside for a moment, the Roger & Me gonzo demagoguery^ix consists of showing footage of some assholes, idle and useless, hating on the main provider of employment in their little town. Truely, they "hated" General Motors, because by being the only employer willing to pay money for their barely useful services it made it so obvious to them how objectively worthless they are. And so they hated it. The only thing that was keeping food on the table and shoes on the feet, they hated it. And then it closed one day, this hated thing that they could barely stand, and thus rendered everyone's dream come true in one fell swoop : everyone was now going to work for something other than General Motors.

And, predictably, they hated that too.

Then someone made a film about how intolerable it is for a hated company to so inconvenience its haters. What, do the people not have the god-given right to hate a company ? Whence then this insufferable presumption for a company to cease paying the people for it! A solidly comedic plot, I say.

I hoarded my accomplishments at school, convinced I’d earned them all on my own. Meanwhile, my mother quietly packed my lunch every day.

You see, the argument goes, if Mombama packs your lunch every day and you've got a business, then you didn’t build that business. And you didn't accomplish your accomplishments and they're not your grades. You just work there. But at least you can rest safe in the knowledge that "we" created the middle class. It's not something that created itself, and thus therefore should "we" need a new middle class (for instance in case it just packs and leaves, like the Soviet's did) we can just go ahead and create another one.

All in all, it's pretty funny. Grown people running around with no more than "I want sum gimme." and "Who dunnit ? Not me!" as the whole of their philosophy. An entire movement consisting of millions of monkeys sticking together and howling in unison. Proceed to show them they're wrong if you will. If you try to argue the point they just scream, and on sheer volume they're louder than any sense. If you set to work, make them go hungry and cold they riot, and you didn't build your business anyway. You can't shoot them cause they're people too HOWL HOWL. And if you don't argue with them but instead feed them and clothe them WELL THEY ARE SO RIGHT OMG IT WORKED!!!

This obviously isn't something new. The mob^x has been pretty much engaged in this business for as long as we had towns, some five or ten thousand years. The only problem is, this particular activity is not perennial because it works. It is perennial because it's easy. So very, very easy.

And this'd be also the reason why I have no Imbecilitarian friends : they're not at all hard to get, but I can never seem to find them any use.^xi

1. Much unlike the case of such celebrated Imbecilites as for instance Luce Irigaray. [↩]
2. A sort of "terrorists", really. [↩]
3. Something Awful is indisputably a treasure trove of information about the mental state of the world, much in the same way an ounce of scraping off the hallways of The T is a treasure trove of information about the state of the general population's respiratory health. Nevertheless, if what you're going to do with it is simply ingest it you may be well advised to refrain : who knows what superbug is lying dormant in there waiting just for you... To the scholar, to the profesionally interested Something Awful is undeniably valuable. To everyone else... well, good luck in any event. [↩]
4. This'd be the exact inverse of education, which is why the average Imbecilitarian is usually to be found by, among or directly as the refuse spewing forth from our current "education system". The perpetual grad student of the humanities sort, the inept youth with not enough of a brain to go in the sciences, the crafty leecher of public (and sometimes private) endowments, the idle, lazy, covetous, pompous... in one word, the 99%. [↩]
5. For extra laughter, the last episode interviews a youthful douche by the name of Shtylman, who makes a bunch of claims rendered humorous by the flow of time : just recently his exchange was owned and now needs your help. [↩]
6. Yes, it's on Salon.com [↩]
7. Funny how those right wing governments are always so racist, isn't it. [↩]
8. Which she cheerfully passed on,

   I took evening classes from the institute via phone. (I half-listened while clicking through lolcat photos.)

   [↩]

9. Pauline Kael's words, who, as you probably don't know, was born on a chicken farm, which renders anything she has to say unassailable by inverse-racism. Jus' sayin'. [↩]
10. Did you know this word actually comes from latin, mobile vulgus ? [↩]
11. Also not something new,

    Equidem is sum, qui istos plausus, cum popularibus civibus tribuerentur, semper contempserim;

    [↩]