Imagine if everything just worked out

Imagine if everything just worked out. Your parents met through friends, they married, your mom delivered you naturally in her late twenties. She never followed some fad diet, she just ate oatmeal porridge with a glass of orange juice in the morning, wholegrain bread in the afternoon, some vegetables and the occasional seafood and never had to worry about her weight. She never heard of veganism, or the keto diet, the carnivore diet, what percentage of calories you should get from carbohydrates, or any of that stuff.

She breastfed you when you were young, gave you cloth diapers, never heard of circumcision. The basics just went right, she lucked out and didn’t make the big errors, not because she spent her days neurotically reading the Internet, but because things just worked out. She had you vaccinated, she brushed your teeth with fluoride toothpaste, you even received a course of antibiotics once, but it just didn’t really matter. You seemed normal. It just wasn’t worth worrying over.

Your parents were known and liked in the small town they lived in, perhaps your dad was a municipal councilor, or perhaps he owned a small construction company. They went to some church on Sunday your mom’s family had been attending for generations, perhaps your mom was German American and you all went to a Lutheran church every Sunday and you were baptized in that tradition and celebrated Christmas and Easter there.

Your parents were not really actively concerned with religion, your parents didn’t check if you had porn magazines, they didn’t make you wear a “purity ring”, they didn’t chase boys out of your house with a shotgun, it’s just “what your family does” and you made some friends there through your parents friends.

Perhaps the small town you lived in had its own quirky holidays and perhaps some of the elderly still spoke German with a weird accent and perhaps there was a museum with some artifacts of the town’s history and pictures of the abandoned coal or copper mine people used to work in and the mayor came from a local family that was well to do and had lived there for generations and owned some property and was charitable to the local community.

Perhaps there was a small path around a river that was just really pleasant and where you could be by yourself or with a bunch of other kids. Perhaps you lived just an hour away from an actual city. Most people knew each other, the elderly men could always be found in the local pub complaining about the local councilors or playing darts or card games, after enough beer the local blokes would arm wrestle or try their luck with the waitress.

Your parents had no big ambitions or plans for you, they didn’t expect you to become a child actor, they didn’t think your were gifted, they didn’t think you had to be the first kid in the family to go to college, your mom didn’t want you to have the career opportunities she had to sacrifice when she became pregnant. Your parents didn’t divorce, your mom didn’t have boyfriends over the floor.

In school you did fine, you had some friends and you didn’t really seek attention, you did your homework and you found it easy to focus on things. Nobody really tried to screw with you, maybe people talked about you behind your back but it didn’t bother you.

The other gender did not mystify you. You didn’t hate them, didn’t put them on a pedestal either. You didn’t spend your days wondering about how they think, or what they want. You didn’t mistakenly think they only want to have black boyfriends because you didn’t have a TV that only showed you interracial couples. You never really thought about how your nose should be shaped, how your chin should be shaped, you didn’t think about having to build muscle, you just built some muscle simply from being on the swimming team.

Your parents had no big plans for you, but they thought about how the world works, they thought about how you function, they thought about what your strengths and weaknesses are, without really ever explicitly saying it to you. Maybe they figured out you were good at math so they had you help dad do the bookkeeping at his company. Maybe they thought you were shy and too shut-in so they had you get a job waiting tables at a local restaurant, or join your local theater club.

Perhaps nothing really bad ever happened to you. Nobody really hated you, you never encountered anyone who was truly screwed in the head. Your town was just normal and average and functional, a place where people have some common heritage that connects them. If you’re a boy, you end up growing slightly taller than your dad.

You never felt a need to think deeply about the world. You never felt a need to dissociate. You knew the name of the current president and you knew the name of the president who was shot in broad daylight, but that’s about as deep as your knowledge of politics went. You didn’t see how any of it would affect you. Your world consisted of the people you personally knew and other than that your interest was in whatever career tract you were entering and cars and sports (male) or fashion and celebrities (female).

You didn’t wonder what happened long in the past. There’s Roosevelt, there’s Abraham Lincoln, then there’s the founding fathers, then there’s Magna Carta, that’s about it. You didn’t wonder much about what happens in the future either. We’ll start using this “Internet” thing and “Renewable energy”, but that’s about as far as your crystal ball reaches.

In fact, you just don’t have that much to discuss with the people you know, outside of what you know about people you mutually know and some minor updates about your own living conditions. “Dysgenics” “K-selected” “hypergamy” “MAO inhibitors” “Methane clathrates” “gender dysphoria” “settler colonalism” “patriarchy” “zionism” “Operation Northwoods” “accelerationism” these are all terms you just never heard of.

None of these things people on the Internet talk about really mean anything to you and they don’t really matter to you either. And no, they don’t just mean nothing to you because you’re “dopamine fasting” or “productivity hacking” or “detoxing” or “returning to tradition”, because those terms never entered your vocabulary either.

These things don’t mean anything to you, because things just mostly worked out for you. You just did most of your life on autopilot. Things just work out. You just never wonder what the real estate prices will do next year, you just have a mortgage advisor explain this stuff to you when you start looking for a home. You don’t ask yourself whether you should plan for retirement, whether hyperinflation is about to strike. None of these questions occur to you. Insofar as you think about how the world works, it’s insofar as it is relevant to you doing whatever your job happens to be.

Imagine things just worked like that. And you would turn on the radio or MTV and hear the Red Hot Chili Peppers or the Foo Fighters or Metallica or Nickelback and that would be your jam and you didn’t think about whether it’s “mainstream” or what it makes people think of you, or whether there’s anything you like more. Or perhaps you were more sophisticated, perhaps you didn’t work a blue collar job, perhaps you became a paper pusher. Perhaps you listen to Coldplay or Michael Bublé or Norah Jones or Sade.

Perhaps you just fit into your context. Not because you try. But because it just goes automatically. You just blend in, without thinking about it. You just automatically “feel” what to wear, how to place the right amount of emotion in your voice, how to walk, how to keep a conversation going with someone you know nothing about except the bare essentials.

You use the Internet to see what your friends are up to. That’s it.

Imagine not having to reinvent the wheel. Imagine not having to force program intuition into your skull. Imagine just not having to understand things. Not wanting to understand things. Not feeling that desire. But also not realizing, that you don’t feel the desire to understand things. Being normal, without even having to suffer the realization that you’re normal.

Not wanting to figure out for yourself whether evolution is real, whether climate change is real, whether the holocaust is real, who really killed JFK, who really carried out 9/11, whether there is evidence for the crucifixion and the massacre of the innocents, whether these quotes you found on some obscure blog from the Talmud are real, whether there were secondary explosives at the Oklahoma City Bombing or not.

Imagine these questions just never occurring to you. Just never spending a whole evening reading about these things. Just accepting what you hear from your environment. Just never feeling that urge. Just being really invested in what you have to do when you get up in the morning. That just being what genuinely occupies your mind.

Imagine realizing what you’re not supposed to say, but then not feeling the constant desire to say it. Imagine it’s just a minor inconvenience, already sinking deep into your subconsciousness, to the point where you hardly even realize you’re not supposed to say it.

Imagine ending up in a relationship, not because you tried, but because it just happened. You just started talking to someone one day and things just progressed from there. And there wasn’t really ever a “date”. And you never really had to explain to someone what you do for a living, who your parents are, whether you have siblings, what you studied, all in the course of an evening.

And you don’t really worry about whether the cow on your plate had a good life or not. And you’re not eating the steak because you want to increase your gains in the gym. You just like the taste of it. And you never see the video of the crying cow pushing the gun away. Or the pigs boiled alive because of a failure to incapacitate them. And you never wonder about these things. Because your empathy is just naturally oriented towards human beings. Not humans in general, or in an abstract sense of the word. It’s just oriented towards people you physically meet.

And you start growing bald before you hit thirty, or you become fat, or your breasts begin to sag, or you get wrinkles. And you went from having sex three times a week to just once a week. But it never even really matters to you. If you’re a male your friends make jokes about it, but you don’t feel hurt by it. Because it doesn’t matter. It’s not high on your agenda of priorities. You know you’re supposed to go to the gym, but you just don’t have the time for it. Because you’re married.

And you’re planning on having children. And you consider this just self-evident. And you don’t wonder whether you should have children when your species weighs ten times as much as all the wild animals on land combined. Because you don’t know that. Nor do you know that harvests are failing and fertile soils are blowing into the ocean and carrying capacity for humans will be reduced to less than 1 billion before 2100. Because you don’t think about this. Having children is just something you do. Not because it’s “Trad”. But because you married, bought a house, had a dog, just received a promotion, won’t be promoted again until your boss retires and now there’s a certain emptiness. Not a haunting emptiness. Just a minor irritation.

And your children are born. And they’re healthy. And you notice that the droughts get really nasty these days and your grass lawn just dies these days if you don’t water it yourself, even though your municipal government tells you not to waste water, which they never said when you were young. But it means nothing to you. And you don’t make the connection.

And there was this really weird year back when everyone wore masks and there was this new virus from China and you had to get these new vaccines and you were sick for a week and then the vaccines didn’t work and you still caught it. But that is now in the past. And you’ve almost forgotten about it, it feels like a weird dream.

And you notice that things in the supermarket are getting really expensive, especially the beef that you like to eat so much. It annoys you, but it doesn’t really mean much to you. And you found out through your old friend on Facebook how your old high school classmate Bob was found dead in his car of a fentanyl overdose. And you feel sorry for him. But you knew he always was a troubled kid. So it doesn’t shock you. And you move on with your day.

Some people live like this. There are not many of them left, but some people still live like this. And there’s absolutely nothing you can do, to become as innocent as them again.

There’s no way to go back.

13 Comments

  1. Another great post Radagast.

    I would do anything to have that blissful ignorance in adulthood. But alas, my autism, OCD, body dysmorphic disorder etc. prevents such a reality.

    “how your chin should be shaped”

    “If you’re a boy, you end up growing slightly taller than your dad.”

    These are things that I constantly fixate about, due to my obsessive nature and also as a result of previously being addicted to incel forums. It’s not like I have any deformities or anything, but I always have thoughts like “if only I ate more protein and calories and led a healthier lifestyle as a teenager I could have grown a few inches taller and had a more masculine chin and brow ridge, which would have translated into more friends, girlfriends and better career prospects due to appearing more dominant and high test, instead of being a NEET still living in my childhood bedroom”.

    Or even just imagine the ability to socialise normally with my peers without social anxiety and autism. There are no quick fixes for these problems. Take MDMA for example. I could take that drug and be able to experience what it’s like to be a normie in social situations. But it’s not a panacea, because abusing that drug will fuck up your serotonin neurons. There’s a great YouTuber named Goblin who has hilarious and fascinating stories of all the drugs he abused during his youth and crazy things that happened to him and his friends while high. He said he went to rehab with a guy who took Molly daily for years and his brain was so messed up that he could barely string a sentence together.

    • >Take MDMA for example. I could take that drug and be able to experience what it’s like to be a normie in social situations.

      Uh…no.

      YOU might feel fine during a social situation while under the influence of MDMA, but it is probable if not likely everyone else would be able to tell you were “off” somehow.

      As a schizoid who in his younger years was diagnosed (and self-diagnosed) with varying shades of “social phobia” or “depression” or “anxiety” I can tell you the one drug that is what you are looking for is none other than gammahydroxybutyrate (GHB)

      I’ve said for many years that I would voluntarily give up all other drug use — including alcohol — if I could simply have a regular supply of pharmaceutical grade GHB.

      It was only under the influence of GHB, despite my many experiments with other substances, that I truly felt what it was like to be an extroverted normie.

      In my sober state I can socialize, but it’s a performance and it drains me of energy after a while. Under the influence of various other drugs I could socialize with some degree of enjoyment, but I was either in my own world or acting a bit odd

      However, under the influence of GHB, I had the anxiolytic effects of alcohol without the dulling of the senses and thinking. I similarly had the anti-depressant/euphoric effects of alcohol without the nonsense and silliness

      I simply understood what normie extroverts experience — a genuine PLEASURE of interacting with other human beings. The exact nature of the interaction — whether joyous or difficult — didn’t matter. There was a deep pleasure in the interaction, period. My mind was sharp, my anxiety was dropped and my balls hung low.

      I dearly miss that drug, and I recommend it to all weirdos who have problems with interpersonal socialization.

      • Thank you Mehen for the helpful and interesting comment. I forgot to mention in my original comment that cannabis with a high CBD:THC ratio also shows promise for reducing symptoms of autism and social anxiety. Unfortunately all the street cannabis being sold nowadays is high THC and low CBD. Maybe that’s what I’d like to do with my life. Grow cannabis and mushrooms and sell them on the dark web. Rintrah wrote in an old post that you only need 5 cannabis plants to be financially independent. It’s certainly a great career choice for autists. All the prisons in Ireland are full so the worst thing that would happen if I got caught would be a suspended sentence. Since I have no intention of working a job that requires a clean criminal record, this wouldn’t bother me at all.

        My sleep pattern is currently all messed up so I was up all night reading about Schizoid Personality Disorder and I was absolutely shocked by what I saw. I have pretty much every single symptom of that disorder. It was uncanny. I will have to raise this concern with my psychiatrist during our next consultation. This “piece of the puzzle” explains so much as to why I find life so difficult.

        • > Thank you Mehen for the helpful and interesting comment.

          My pleasure.

          > I forgot to mention in my original comment that cannabis with a high CBD:THC ratio also shows promise for reducing symptoms of autism and social anxiety.

          I’ve experimented with many substances including marijuana quite frequently, but I have to say that for myself, it just wasn’t my thing. It’s probably a feature of my own peculiar psychology but weed always made me feel paranoid and self-conscious in social settings, and even while alone or in a trusted environment my superego would sadistically torture me over past “moral transgressions”. Just not for me, and I know at least a few other people like myself. Don’t believe the hype about marijuana.

          However, marijuana is the bees knees for listening to music (becomes 3 dimensional), watching films (you melt into and become the characters and feel the emotions much more intensely), eating (a fast-food value-meal of goyslop tastes like a King’s banquet), and sex (the senses are heightened and sex becomes more intuitive and sensuous — probably not a concern for autists such as yourself, but jerking it still feels better)

          > Maybe that’s what I’d like to do with my life. Grow cannabis and mushrooms and sell them on the dark web. Rintrah wrote in an old post that you only need 5 cannabis plants to be financially independent. It’s certainly a great career choice for autists.

          I’d love to hear more about things like this, you know, ways for neurodivergent LSWMs to make money. I’m not sure I have the confidence to run a business as I’ve always considered myself a geeky analytical type. But I think about suicide every day when I contemplate my bleak future, so I’m all ears.

          I know I have a level of smarts above the average bear. But I don’t have a lot of confidence in myself or in my understanding of the ways and means of making money, so lay it on me!

          > My sleep pattern is currently all messed up so I was up all night reading about Schizoid Personality Disorder and I was absolutely shocked by what I saw. I have pretty much every single symptom of that disorder. It was uncanny. I will have to raise this concern with my psychiatrist during our next consultation. This “piece of the puzzle” explains so much as to why I find life so difficult.

          I’ll save you the time — all the online material indicates autists have a genuine biological neurodivergence that renders them incapable of normie thinking/feeling styles due to this deficit.

          Schizoids have the required brain-matter but also had either a congenital oversensitivity to stimuli, or trauma/neglect during their formative years which caused them to numb themselves and their emotions, to try to navigate the vagaries of social life from a purely rational perspective, to feel overwhelmed by the emotional needs of other people.

          Now that I think about it, my crowing about the magic of GHB may be a function of my Schizoid nature, and perhaps GHB would not have the same revelatory effects for someone with genuine autism.

          So that could be an interesting acid-test, like that scene in The Thing where they collect everyone’s blood and stick the heated wire into the sample to see whose blood freaks out and becomes all weird.

  2. Great.
    And then something happens and he reads. Hours after hours. Weeks after weeks. Was all I ever thought and felt fake? And he becomes a useless human to talk with. Borderline shizo.

    I call it the divorce effect. So many suddenly disillusioned 45+ men had one and then they for the first time ever encounter the furious state. Taking away his children. Or they had a weird James Bond encounter in the 3rd World, where a foundation they never heard of meddled into their business, making it a failure. Just because they can. Leaving a few hundred Ahmeds without work.

    Then they throw the baby out with the bathwater.

    I am glad to have been part of the infowar since the net was opened for the plebs. At least I know when to duck and cover. Or when to fire back.

  3. I grew up in a small northern Maine town in the 90s. Life was kinda like this post. Not exactly but close. We were happy and innocent. Of course the internet and smartphones changed all that and I don’t recognize my town when I visit now. Part of me would love to have that way of life back.

  4. > parents have no actual moral standards
    > males interested primarily in cars and sports, women interested in vanity and whore celebrities
    > no appreciation for history
    > unexamined life on autopilot, paucity of thought content
    > no financial awareness or plans
    > shitty music tastes
    > no inquisition into hoaxes or society’s deceptions
    > balding, aging like milk, sexless marriage
    > forgives the covid hoax

    Your idea of things “just working out” is horrifyingly deficient.

    I could teach you, you know. With my help you could fix this deficient view of the world. I could repair your soul if you would let me.

    • >Your idea of things “just working out” is horrifyingly deficient.

      That’s the point. If this isn’t good enough, you’re already internetbrained.

      • The bliss of beastly idiocy isn’t for us, with or without the internet. Even as a child who didn’t have access to a computer I was dissatisfied; and I’d be surprised if you weren’t the same.

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The patients in the mental ward have had their daily dose of xanax and calmed down it seems, so most of your comments should be automatically posted again. Try not to annoy me with your low IQ low status white male theories about the Nazi gas chambers being fake or CO2 being harmless plant food and we can all get along. Have fun!

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