Reader’s advisory: old news + I was not involved.

A few months ago, a promising science fiction author called Benjanun Sriduangkaew was exposed as the secret identity of notorious troll/cyberbully Requires Hate (who has also gone by the name of Winterfox, ACrackedMoon, and several others).

I was a regular reader of Requires Hate. I actually planned to submit one of my books for a Requires Hate review, but I didn’t have any ready in time. Everyone’s shocked that this person gained so much traction in “da scene”. Nobody can see the truth: that the problem lies with them, and the community they created.

Over the past few years, we’ve seen the rise of the “social justice” movement, which combats sexism, racism, and oppression (or thinks it does). For years, it was a harmless tumor, confined to places like LiveJournal and SomethingAwful. But Tumblr and Twitter shot it full of steroids, and it has metastasized into a proud, fierce, non-gender-binary cancer.

In CS Lewis’s city of Tashbaan, the less important bow and scrape for the more important. In the social justice, the less oppressed bow and scrape for the more oppressed. There’s not much more too it. If you have light skin, or a penis, disagreement with a minority (or someone who claims they’re a minority) is very unwise, as you are silencing them, erasing them, forcing them out of the discourse, denying their lived experiences, et cetera.

Obviously, these kinds of communities are very vulnerable to sociopaths, and manipulators, and Requires Hate leveraged her Oppressed Person status to the full. She was a woman, she was queer, and she was Asian. That’s a pretty strong hand. Maybe the ace-high straight Social Justice Poker. You had to listen to her, because you were privileged and she was not.

One of the victims of Requires Hate’s taunting was Kari Sperring, who apparently attempted suicide because of it. I find that…unhealthy. Abnormal. Why would you let an internet troll have that much power over you? I think it’s because of social justice. Sperring wasn’t able to brush those comments off, because Requires Hate outranked her. Arguing with a member of THREE marginalised groups? No way. That would have made her a bad person, an oppressor. Only one way out…the medicine cabinet.

4chan wish they had a trolling thermonuke this powerful. All they can do is leak your naked selfies.

Hopefully people will have learned a lesson from Requires Hate…that societies should not act like the saddest, most downtrodden class of saps deserves to be running things. There’s men who volunteer at rape shelters and women who’s biggest concern is shopping for oversized sunglasses. And being black – even an actually oppressed black – doesn’t mean you know a damn thing about racism, just as getting shot doesn’t confer understanding of ballistics or catching a cold doesn’t make you an expert on immunology. These are complicated topics, and I want to hear smart viewpoints, wherever they come from, not “lived-in” viewpoints. The idea is got-a-cool-toy-banned-by-rectally-inserting-it grade stupid.

As for Benjanun Sriduangkaew, I wish she’d stuck around. She got busted, posted a groveling apology, and is now keeping a low profile. I think she should have stuck to her guns. “Yeah, I was Requires Hate, and here’s news: I regret nothing. You’re trash, your favorite books suck, and if that makes you try to kill yourself, take a fucking seat. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

It’s true, I am nerdy. But not “rolls a twenty-one sided die while mumbling about dexterity” nerdy. We’re talking “Batman, isolated from the world in his Fortress of Solitude” nerdy. I’m nerdy to the extreme.

Just how nerdy am I? Well, let’s count the ways.

I own torrented copies of the following Star Wars films: The New Hope, The Emperor Strikes Back, A Phantom Menace, Assault of the Clones, and Return of the Sith. I still have to get that other movie (Revenge of the Jedi, or whatever), but I was running out of space on my DVR and needed to leave room for the Holiday Special.

Torrents, by the way, are secret hacking devices that access a site called The Pirate Bay using a hacker protocol called “IP Pinging”. The owner of The Pirate Bay then buys a copy of the thing you want, and streams it to your computer. Very cool. It’s easy to blur the line between right and wrong when you use a torrent, but that’s just part and parcel of living in a digital cyberpunk world. When I torrent something, I wear black sunglasses, and pretend there’s green text crawling up them like in the Wazowskis’ Matrix movies.

How batfucking insanely awesome are those movies? The special effects are just off the hook. In particular, the wire work is so intricate that it’s easy to forget that Neon, Brinity, and Murpheus are plastic mannequins. They look exactly like real people, especially when delivering lines like “if you take the blue suppository, you wake up and believe whatever you want to believe. If you take the red suppository, I show you how deep my rabbit hole goes.”

I discovered a plot hole, however. If Ne-Yo is the One, why don’t the machines just invent a Two?

I also love Star Track. There’s something about the character of Charles Xavier that really resonates with me, like we were destined to be friends but have been separated by a layer of cellulose. His moodiness. His cool. His quick wit, always ready with a snappy verbal riposte like “live long, and prosper.” Ouch, get some ointment for that burn! Star Fleck also makes it easy to see who the good and bad guys are. For example, the villains usually wear red shirts, so you can cheer when they die.

But that’s just the very peak of the bottomless abyss of my nerdiness. Harry Potter, The Big Bang Theory, Avatar (the cartoon, not the Peter Jackson movie), you name it, I’m there, wearing the T-shirt, getting to second base with the official licensed hugging pillow, bumping official nerd bands like Weezer on my Beats By Dre, holding forth on how it went to shit five episodes before the debut of the season 1 premier.

People ask me “hey, you’re so nerdy, don’t you ever find that it puts people off?” Well, I’d be lying if I said I don’t sometimes conceal the true depths of my geekiness, like how I read JRR Token’s Lords of the Ring books. Yeah, he ripped off the idea of elves and orcs from Dungeons and Dragons, but who cares, they’re so much fun! Lately I’ve been learning Sindarin, the Elvish language. Here’s some of my homework: ??????????. Get on my level.

They say time is like a wheel, and that if you follow it for long enough you’ll get back to where you started. Sometimes it seems like the wheel has a broken axle, and that time isn’t moving at all: yesterday is the same as today, which is the same as tomorrow.

In the 20s, an Italian musclehead called Charles Atlas started selling a muscle building course. “What’s my job? I turn wimps into men!” His comic ads were in every newspaper – a dweeb gets sand kicked in his face by a bully, who calls him scrawny and steals his girl. Said dweeb then invests in Charles Atlas’s magic muscle course, bulks up, returns to the beach, KO’s the bully, and gets his (somewhat used) girlfriend back.

Atlas’s product (“Dynamic Tension”) was a few flimsy sheets showing you how to do isometric holds and static push-ups and so forth. Slightly useful for improving your cardiovascular system, close to useless for building muscle. Did Atlas himself use Dynamic Tension to build his physique? No. He lifted weights. But he knew there was no money to be made in selling barbells and dumbbells.

Atlas was given to calling himself “the world’s most perfectly developed man” which was not a truth claim but a title. In the 1920s Atlas was the winner of a bodybuilding contest in New York (defeating a motley bunch of piano movers and beer hall bouncers in the process). The contest was a financial failure, and the promoter did not host it again. Since nobody could win the title from Atlas, even when he was a frail geriatric he was still technically “the world’s most perfectly developed man”.

In the sixties there was a similar scam aimed at women called the “Mark Eden Bust Developer”, which purported to increase one’s breast size through exercises. These “exercises” took about 22 hours per week. A guy called Arthur Jones tracked down the creator of this system and asked how he’d arrived at that number. His reply was “Well, you and I both know that a few minutes of such exercise a week will produce all of the results that are possible; but when we told women that, we were getting requests for a refund from about forty percent of the customers. But, since we changed the instructions, we are now getting requests for a refund from only about two percent of the customers.”

Back in the bodybuilding world, a pair of Jewish entrepreneurs called the Weider brothers were climbing to ascendancy (Joe Weider was the husband of legendary pinup queen Betty Brosmer, as well as the man who brought Arnold Schwarzenegger to America). Other people might debate whether they were outright crooks or brilliant entrepreneurs – I think they were both at the same time.

Joe Weider wanted everyone to think that he was a muscular superhunk under his cable-knit sweater, and…er…appearances were against him. So he took a sculpture of a bodybuilder (Robby Robinson), and literally replaced Robby’s head with his own. Meanwhile, Ben Weider tried to give their business a scientific facade by talking about the “Weider Research Clinic”, where supposedly every bodybuilding discovery worth knowing was made. It’s well documented that no such place exists. Bob Gadja once told a funny story about visiting the Weider’s headquarters, seeing a door marked “Weider Research Clinic”, and opening the door. It was a broom closet.

Thankfully nobody falls for these scams any more. Anyone want a 0 calorie energy drink?