THE GREAT MOCKERY, PART 5: THE PERNICIOUS LIES

‘Per-neh-shuss’; tending to cause death or serious injury; deadly; baleful; malicious; wicked.

Hello all! And a quick note to those who are new--I'm doing a happier series after this.

I hope you are all doing well today. When last we left this post, I was talking about a key concept, that I forgot, Canon and Canonicity; that which is decreed and agreed to be true, in a fictional setting for our purposes. Canon is important because us humans need a sense of what is true, workable, important; a continuity of events from the beginning to now and where we can go. Simple stuff. It applies as much in religion as it does in the Fiction Industry—comics, video games, films, shows, franchises, etc., all of which are now the modern mythology.

I am well aware that that what is ‘canon’ is challenged frequently enough, so much so that some people say that canonicity is a farce. I am very well aware that people challenge canon for a whole host of reasons, that range from misguided, ignorant, and selfish. I get it. I see it. I seen what it does to the children that are caught up in the ugly fights that ensue in the contest. …And I mean, in the fanbases on the Internet, let alone real life.

This post will be painfully exact. I say this because I am aiming for the precise darkness that H-40.0 entertains, without hitting anything else in the crossfire. I am trying to pin down a slimey hagfish here, it takes patience.

Ready?

The first good thing I want to avoid hitting is the Art of Argument. For those not in the know, Argument is how men—specifically men, women don’t—not only communicate but also how they sharpen their communication skills. Argument is good even if you and I have seen how it’s abused daily. Argument, if well done, is how this post, essays, arts, and literature are made, because it is Men figuring out the precise details. They do this, first, by shouting and banging rocks at each other, as is custom, or insulting each others’ mothers as a form of greeting. Then they get to the business of, not talking, but figuring out what they want to talk about.

This is very hard, especially for men, so usually it goes that both men shout out their gut reactions to things. Opinions, that’s what they are called. Now, if they are healthy, attentive men, they see if the other person is listening back. IF that is so, then they can really Argue. Now, here is where an argument goes bad—when it turns into a dominance match. The how and why is for another time. But, if it does not, an Argument turns into a kind of play. Almost like a playful dance, where the men crack jokes, toss around details, offer and dismiss suggestions, refine what they meant or rephrase a slurred word, etc. If it is sincere, the Argument can build up both men and their understanding. If an arguing man is brave and humble, he can learn that he was even wrong, and can set out to learn more. If a man is wrong, he may even have the opportunity to learn bravery and humility. Hopefully, both men can come away better communicators.

Or, to show an example of it in real life, I will use—uh, call him by the false name, Mr. OrganFailure. To quoth him:

‘It’s fun to make fun of it. You know what making fun of the [Grand Space Empire] and other factions get: you some fun nerd arguments online, and those go two ways. Both of them good. Either I have a fun conversation, or someone tells me to kill myself, which is the highest honor I can receive. It’s the kind of making fun of I wish people would celebrate more—not one born out of malice, but out of enjoyment. I want more of this kind of stuff. I tell you your failing [Grand Space Empire] will fall at the hands of my [undead space aliens], you tell me you’ll kill him a second time. And we have fun playing a game of [H-40.0].’

Now, here, Mr. OrganFailure, a good chap, highlights the highs (ugh) and lows of how this usually goes. I’ve seen this, too, from my years of Internet browsing. But what is not captured is a pattern that I’ve seen, at least in the nerd sub-cultures. I want to see if your experience matches up with mine. I hope this doesn’t apply to all humanity, but who the hell knows.

What I see, at the end of the day, we argue over things, club each other like apes, and each can leave the battlefield in a kind of ‘victorious draw’ where who is right or wrong does not matter, both can walk away smug and happy. This is especially the case in Fictionland and in settings that are left ambiguous, like H-40.0 and White Wolf’s The World of Darkness RPG. Arguing in Fictionland is, weird, because you’re arguing over a part of our reality that has been translated into Fictionland, or you’re arguing over nothing. That’s even weirder and a waste of time, but I find the smugness the more dangerous. I don’t know if the smugness is a symptom, cause, or effect.

See, if the context is where both Argumentors (?)—both debaters can walk away in a victorious draw, was there ever a contest? Was there ever anything at real stake? Like, as in H-40.0, where everyone is a dirtbag, every argument is just a p*ssing contest over who is more evil or who is more powerful. Who cares? You’re talking about the same dull rock at that point. The given subject matter is the same as counting the grains in a stone. What’s there to learn?

Why do I say smugness then? It comes from a bad attitude that says ‘Yeah, I may be wrong, but that doesn’t make the other guy right’. Or, ‘that guy only thinks he’s right, but it’s all up to interpretation’ or, my favorite, ‘That guy may be right this time, but I know he’s still wrong about something else!’ Oi oi oi, it never ends. Ah, then there’s my second-most favorite, ‘Everybody is a moron’. Reduce all to zero, so that you’re all equally losers. Oh ho! The worst offender, though, is when someone says ‘I may be wrong, but…’

I don’t know if a person who always starts a sentence with ‘I may be wrong but’ is humble, pretending to be humble, or is highly doubtful of himself. Perhaps they caught the Socratic memo, and insist on slapping it like a post-it note on every surface? ‘I may be wrong, I may be wrong’—it’s as infuriating as ‘in my honest opinion’ (IMHO). Is no one brave enough to shove their entire foot in their mouth? No one? No one brave enough to speak plainly? But instead we speak like whipped dogs cowering under a table? It is our insane culture of forced politeness. Speak things that are only flexible or bendy, not solid, so that we can cover our rear ends. It is like, give up in defeat prematurely so that you don’t have to struggle.

Let me tell you the truth—we fear the Truth. Why is for complicated ontological reasons that flabbergast me. I accept the reasons and try and understand from there. Why do I care? Because I understand that existence is real, that life exists, and that life can be fulfilling or demeaning based on our choices. A supercharged life for those who want it, a pathetic, measly life for those who want that too, and the stuff in between. The Truth gives us the choice among the options; otherwise, an option will be chosen for us in our passivity. I want the option that lets us have life and have it supercharged.

So let’s talk about the subversions! Woo-hoo! Round of applause, round of applause—CLAP DAMMIT! I’ll hear it.

First, ‘there is no truth’. That does not make everybody equally wrong—instead, it makes every option equally valid. It promotes smugness by making everybody artificially in the right. Are you not your own ‘truth’? Who is there to contest you? Nobody is higher or lower than the other; nor would that make an intense option more valid than a meek one. …You do realize this not how human brains work. This leads to choice-paralysis, because we cannot distinguish between the options if in the long run they are all the same. Next, it makes struggle pointless, because—don’t fight over a valuable thing if another valuable thing is there, without a fight. Even saying ‘the struggle itself is the purpose’ becomes meaningless, because not-struggling is just as valid. You are also left with the equally valid option ‘just kill yourself to escape the crazy’. As much as we want, we cannot free-style, or create our way from nothing.

Second, ‘it’s left up for interpretation’. On the surface, all fair and good, because it lets you use your brain-muscles to think of something. However, in my personal experience, if something is said to be ‘left up for interpretation’, what it really means is ‘we are letting you do the self-masturbation of confirming whatever biases you already had’. Yeah, you heard me right, they’re taking a hand, real low, and jacking you off with ‘left up to interpretation’, because it really doesn’t challenge you. It pleasures you, in whatever way you want it to. It does not cause you the pain of ‘oh no, I may be wrong’ or ‘Oh, this is difficult for me to understand’, nor the hard exercise of trying to comprehend a thing. …And then, even barring malice, do not most people scan the surface anyway? They will go for the easiest answer, no matter how much an avant-garde author wants the audience to think.

[Worse, how did we, and how do we get to those interpretations anyway?]

Third is the saddest, most downtrodden option, ‘the truth exists, but beware of those who say they have found it’. This was the favorite of Terry Pratchett—all of his best villains are self-righteous murderers who think they know better. From ‘high Quisitor’ Vorbis, servant of the Great God Om, to Carcer, a serial killer, Pratchett’s villains know what they want and use twisty justifications based on, moderately correct information, to fulfill their plans. His Auditors of Reality—think computers-turned-gods—try and exterminate all life on the excuse that it would make atoms spin easier. I mean, it IS their jobs to make sure the laws of physics work correctly, but biology is gross, and intelligent life uses magic that breaks physics!

This is the saddest example, because it makes honest people clam up out of fear. Those with candor do not speak out of a perverted humility—'what if I say something that is true, and someone else takes it the wrong direction?’ Everyone is left to think for himself, sure, but there are no teachers. This also leads to a dramatic lack of intellectual discipline, because there are no powerful standards. Understanding is broken up among the few wise people that are too afraid to be wise.

The last example is ‘I only wanted to find the truth’*. This is the most reprehensible example, the last words on the lips of every heretic and intellectual who pouts ‘it is not my fault!’ when backed into a corner. In reality, the great heretics and intellectuals want to control the truth, if not become it. They want a convenient Truth, that conveniently is whatever they say. They do not want a Truth that talks back to them, or one that can prove them wrong.

[*Admission here: My brain is screaming at me that a real-life heretic in Catholicism said this at his trial. I combed, for 2 hours, through my bookmarks and web-notes, just to make sure my brain isn’t going crazy. Couldn't find it again. Yes, I have catalogues of controversial figures. I’m weird. I just added Ronald Regan, Richard Nixon, and Barrack Obama to the list. But, I didn’t find any other notes. If anyone reading this can confirm or deny a real-life person said this at their trial, shout it out. LOUDLY. To get attention to my blog.]

We relate to things outside ourselves. Now, the proper way of relationship is ‘working in grand cosmic harmony with the thing’. When that goes tits up, you got three, maybe four options. One, deny it exists. Two, subvert it; run a smear campaign on it to demean it, make it lesser. Three, control it. Warp it, bend it to your will. Or, four—kill it and become it. Kill and replace it. So too with the truth and those that say ‘I only wanted to find the truth’. You’re not doing anything wrong, aren’t you, if you do this option? You’re pursuing a good thing. Every great heretic and intellectual wants to be incontrovertible, undeniable, irrefutable. You get, the Glory of being something realer than reality. Who needs power or respect when you just, ARE?

Now, most if not all of the great heretics and mystical intellectuals do this by becoming an incontrovertible, undeniable, irrefutable mess that can hardly be examined in the first place. …They try to be undefeatable by giving up before there is a struggle, so one no can challenge them. Yes, it is that dumb. They can’t lose if there’s no contest or if no one can understand the contest—ooo, or if the contest is rigged in their favor. They get everything, if they are right, and it is not their fault if they are wrong. The people who challenge them are bullies!

So, what if you’re wrong? What then? Do you blip out of existence if proven false? People act like they will be struck dead by cosmic fire if they are proven wrong on something. It is like people don’t understand that if proven false, what is the proper way then? If wrong, then what right?  I’ve been proven wrong on many topics and misjudged many people in my life. I’ve done that enough times to where, if I did not shape up as I did, I’d be a drunkard in a bar lamenting my woes. Or, I don’t know, some kind of activist on the Internet. Learning is not a death sentence.

…Okay it kinda is.

If you learn something, you accept it, and by accepting it, you refuse to be willful or stubborn against it. You work with it, in harmony. For that, a little part of yourself must die.

…

Uhg, wait, I got one more post and then I can get to my next series.

More to follow!

...

Off-Tangent: This is for the dedicated lore nerds of H-40.0. For fans of H-40.0, think of a certain bald, golden-domed preacher of Legio XVII**; you know, the demonic Jehovah’s Witnesses (In Space). Look them up on Lexicanum. This same golden-domed preacher-turned-space-demon famous words are ‘I only wanted the truth’. Yes, he said the line, but I swear I’ve heard it elsewhere from a real life trial. Now, the dark irony is that said space-preacher lived in a cosmology where there were only demon-gods as deities. The even darker irony is that Gold-dome is a terrible religious disciple. See, Gold-dome has a bad attitude that makes him a bad religious disciple in real life—‘I worship you, so you owe me.’ Anyone with any amount of faith should realize this is not how it works, at all, but Gold-dome didn’t get the memo. ‘Am I not the one who gives glory by praising you?’ This kind of selfishness warps into a kind of martyr-complex. Are you not the Savior when you are on trial? Persecuted? ‘I’m just saying what I know is right. It must be true, if you’re attacking me so much.’ You know, like a gross fanboy who puts demands on their favorite celebrity.

[**Holy sh*t, that’s the Gnostic number; I just realized while typing this.]

Off-off Tangent: For you lore nerds, do realize that a lot of names in H-40.0 are, yes, adapted from mythology, but many personal names are from Biblical sources, demonology, or the names of real-life heretics, but all with funny spellings. For example, in ‘Battles of Fantastical Nature involving Hammers’, smush together the names of ‘Martin Luther’ and ‘Jan Huss’. You’ll find other examples. I do not know, earnestly, if it is the writers of H-40.0 being mere edgelords, or if they do know what they are doing, but if they do know, what is their end goal?