A Pesticide for the Small Minded Reductionist Reply Guy: A curious byproduct of longposting is that there's always a contingent of reply guys who are irritated by the idea someone on earth is thinking about something more than they are. When they see lengthy text on any topic at all, they seethe in the replies. They do this both as a coping mechanism for their own irrelevance but also out of legitimate impotent frustration. It's one thing to be pissed about pontification. 50% of the time it's understandable to lash out at inefficient communication, disregarding whether the prose itself has merit. The other 50% of the time it's legitimate IQ insecurity, a fundamental inability to parse language and often met with a cope that you're writing "pseud babble" despite having a coherent point. But this issue is beyond the volume of text, this is specifically a type of person who's upset that you even have a take. To this person, the world and its contents are a series of boxes which are checked off when you learn the bare minimum about something. Anything beyond an X or checkmark exceeding the boundaries of that box upsets them. The frustrated dismissive philistine will lash out at you for having extended thoughts on a subject they believe to be mundane. It doesn't matter if the subject is something as nuanced and ever-extensive as politics, religion, the human condition, or if it's simply a disdain towards curiosity itself. They are the type of person who would say "Why are you painting a bowl of fruit, the photograph exists?" Often this sort of diminutive scorn has its place. For example, excessive philosophizing can be a distraction in the workplace and irritate your coworkers who are held hostage by your existence. It can disrupt learning environments if off-topic, suffocate conversations if monologued excessively, or simply impose on the tranquility of placidity if targeted to someone minding their business in public. But the forum is no place for such a response. Humanity's most ancient and familiar realm of discourse has unlimited breadth, infinite capacity. The timeline is an endless wheel spinning out more takes than you could ever hope to consume in a lifetime. Participation in a tweet is completely voluntary; ignoring a post costs you nothing. The only inflictions one can cast onto users of online platforms are that of visually displeasing media and perhaps targeted harassment. Hostile diminishment is not the same thing as disagreeing with a take. Hell, even attacking people personally because you disagree with them is still justified in the sense of PvP. Ad hominem is one of the most important elements of online combat and you spiritually owe it to yourself to harm those who oppose you ideologically. Even censorship for the sake of oppositional incentives is more dignified than ignorant silencing, at least it's a deliberate tactic that serves some goal. The impatient reductionist is one of the stupidest elements of online discourse. They're not actual participants in the conversation and they don't even have the agency to be considered self-serving parasites. A scumbag bot shilling Trojans out of a server farm in Hyderabad has more dignity than the insolent little pisspuke chirping in your replies. These are the type of slack jawed mouth breathing retards whose ancestors delivered bushels of turnips at spearpoint their entire lives just long enough to reproduce before dying of half-starved dysentery. They are an R-type reproduction species, built to psychologically withstand being raped. If you cracked open their DMs you'd see endless one-word replies and normcore celebrity reaction face GIFs being sent in response to a limited subject matter of sodomy, weed, cartoons, and food. If you're one of these people, you were angry five paragraphs ago and you're barely skimming this just enough to struggle to concoct the exact type of response I'm mocking you for right now. You're probably so fucking stupid that you think it's extra clever to say the thing I'm shitting on you for. You are a single bacterium in an algae mat floating on the ocean of repetitious slop that makes up your entire existence. Every single person who makes at least one viral post here is horrified to learn of your existence, to learn of the sheer volume of how many of you exist at once like a hivemind of subhuman troglodytes all clamoring to say the exact same thing over and over. To learn of the benign dismissive's existence for the first time is to face a terrifying reality that not every person is human. To be reminded of that every day is to be crushed by the reality that nonhumans outnumber the sentient five-to-one. It's one thing to have to share the internet with a growing horde of third worlders, it's Lovecraftian to realize that there are hylics which share the same skin, nation, and birth language as you. If by some miracle you somehow process what I'm saying and have siphoned a smidgen of curiosity or concern or God forbid an actual desire to be better, then I'll do you the courtesy of explaining to you two things: 1: What It's Like Being Sentient When you look at something like a car, a piece of steak, a silly video on YouTube, the barista at Starbucks, an excel spreadsheet, a fly rubbing its mandibles on a table, a cloud in the sky, anything at all, you see it for what it is. All you see is an object and its relation to yourself. You want to eat the steak, the video makes you laugh, the barista looks fun to fuck, the spreadsheet is boring work, the fly is a pest, the table is for sitting at, the cloud hides the sun. You have a vague gray feeling in your mind as you remember basic facts about these objects, quickly replaced by whatever captivates or concerns you. You live in a world of obligations and reprieves. There are things you hate doing which you have been forced to do so that you can spend your free time doing what you like to do. Sentient people see more than you. They think about what it's actually like being another person, thinking what it's like being an animal or an insect, thinking about how the food got on their plate, what happened in history to make them exist. They ask themselves why things are, they compare things that have no seeming relation to one another and find connections to their own inner world through these thoughts. Sentient people understand there is an existence beyond the physical one. Where you see black and white, they see colors you cannot comprehend. They operate on metaphors, implications, and abstractions. They think about the future far beyond tomorrow and they think about the past from before written history. They question the things they're told, and they draw conclusions. They've encountered completely original philosophies just from thinking about things and found out later those philosophies were thought of by other people who put their names on those philosophies because they were the first to write it down. Sentient people like to find each other and talk about things, they exchange ideas that enrich each other's lives even if they disagree with those ideas. They don't get upset at ideas they've seen before because they know their minds are constantly changing and an idea they once understood now seems different, either because they've changed or they saw it expressed in a different way. When sentient people read a lot, they mostly understand what they're reading. They don't get headaches when there's too many words and they don't get sleepy if the words are big and complicated. Most importantly, sentient people understand that wisdom doesn't come from words, the words just help reinforce wisdom by putting abstract thoughts they've had into a framework they can understand and relate to. Sentient people are responsible for creating all the good things you consume and ensuring the world you live in is as safe and comfortable as it can be. The only obligation you have is to either support them through menial labor or at the very least prevent yourself from disrupting their works. 2: How To Stay Out Of The Way If you think you're sentient but you're not, you won't read or care about any of this. At best you'll think it's a silly joke and at worst, you'll get angry at this post because your ability to consume any idea at all is an energy bar with such limited capacity that having a paragraph of words presented to you feels like making a dehydrated person stuck in the desert do jumping jacks before they're allowed to drink water. 99% of unsentient people will either have given up already or are already preparing to lash out. They don't listen, they wait to speak. They don't think, they respond. They don't learn, they loiter. They don't breathe, they inhale. They don't live, they just persist. The 1% who somehow have cobbled together a crumb of patience and a single drop of curiosity and want to be better should be asking themselves now: "How do I stop myself from getting angry at words?" Simply, you just have to think a little bit about where you are. You are online, where information is free and relatively infinite. The website you are on, the app you have downloaded, X, is singularly and solely dedicated to creating content. Its most primary form of content is discussion, and the topic can be anything you want it to be. This is the MOST appropriate place to be talking about random bullshit, it's probably the only major place in daily life where it's fully appropriate. If you get legitimately angry at a long post just for the sake of existing, it's for at least one of several possible reasons. I'll list them all and explain what you're actually angry at: - You're angry that the post is long and Twitter is for short Tweets Twitter threads existed long before the word count was changed. There have always been people who wanted to longpost on Twitter and nothing is preventing you from ignoring longposts. - This could've been said in less words No it couldn't. Some people longpost because they're enthusiastic about a subject matter and the enthusiasm ingrains an inherent value in the discussion itself, it ensures a vibrancy of discourse which fuels further conversation. Other people longpost because they're addressing a complicated subject matter which requires a lot of text to cover. My longposts in particular are long because I indulge in colorful descriptions and elaborate metaphors. I do this because I want to describe feelings few people talk about, especially for thoughts most people are told to believe are wrong to think. When likeminded people read these posts, they feel a catharsis that someone shares these thoughts and can describe them in a way they've never been able to. Every single time one of you replies "you could've just said this is this" or some other one sentence reduction of the point, it's always somehow both wrong and incredibly fucking boring. If I posted like you, I'd be exactly like you, a fucking nobody who's never said or written anything worth thinking about. - You're overthinking this No, thinking about something and writing about it are both easy things for me. They're difficult for you because you're either not capable of it or you haven't done enough thinking or writing to do it effortlessly. You're upset because you're out of your depth and you're lashing out because you're stupid enough to believe anyone on earth would actually stop doing something because you demanded it. You're like a child with Down's Syndrome standing in front of an incoming tsunami that's about to die in 15 seconds because you think yelling at the waves will make them go away. - Everyone already knew that _______ is because_____ It's important for you to understand that you don't know anything. Your conclusions are worthless because you've never truly believed anything, created anything, or thought anything worthwhile. Your entire existence is just consuming directions from authority figures and media sources. You regurgitate points because you've learned they're socially acceptable and the only things you actually care about are eating, shitting, fucking, sleeping, and dying comfortably. You are a worthless node in a network of physical reactions to catalysts beyond your understanding. You're not even in individual in a crowd, you're more like a molecule in a large body of liquid being steered by the laws of physics. - Way too long didn't read You're upset because you were never meant to be literate. Reading causes you physical distress. Every single time you've ever had to read is because somebody at work or school made you read, your primary form of communication is guttural noises, grunts, and emojis. If you happen to consume literature, it's bottom barrel entertainment slop, the type of schlock they sell at Scholastic Fair or airport bookstore. What's worse is if you're unsentient and think you're well read, you're too simple to grasp that you're doing the book equivalent of playing video games mindlessly. Before the 20th century, reading fiction was considered a pointless vice for children. You were never meant to read, you were born to clap your hands to songs, dance, and do manual labor. - Who has time to write this much, get a life! You're upset because what takes me a couple minutes out of my day to write in one unbroken free flowing thought would take you hours of planning, revision, and research. Normally I'd give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you're disgruntled at having little time in your day for pursuing anything creative but let's be real, you probably waste more than half your day mindless consuming low grade content or staring off into space. - Who cares about this Actual human beings who matter, you're not one of them - Nobody wants to read this Thousands do, there's even little numbers you can see right on the screen that absolutely prove this. And literally every single person that tries to argue against this always has little to no followers and less than 5 likes per Tweet. If you legitimately think this it's because you're upset someone is better than you at grabbing attentionshare, and if you're obtuse enough to try and argue those things don't matter then you're just coping because if you were the type of person to actually believe that, you wouldn't be commenting like this in the first place; you'd be voidposting. The mere fact that you're hate orbiting in someone else's replies means that you're a background character and the source of your anger is the discomfort of being reminded of that. - Convoluted, grammatically poor, bad writing A special type of pseud hylic loves to jump on this angle as if it's their little bulletproof gotcha, a desperate delusional win they can slurp off the ground like a slug sucking off moisture from wet moss. Frankly, I'd take incoherent cogency over being a meticulous bore every single time. Being a nitpick is a coping mechanism and some random drugged out retard doing a viral one-liner meme that garners thousands of likes will always be more valuable than the pedantic nobody who lives to critique because he's too afraid to create. - None of this matters Everything matters, you fucking numbskull. You piece of shit, you waste of space. Everything that defines humanity is an act of deliberation, care, curiosity, and investment. The world was built by people who gave a shit, and everything you love came from people who occupied themselves with something beyond the immediate lowest tier of Maslow's Heirarchy of needs. The foundation of higher thinking comes from having at least some basic ability to engage in discourse. You are incapable of understanding what it's like to carve a path into unknown territory, create something that's never existed in living memory, or significantly change the course of society because you fundamentally don't give a shit about anything beyond basic biological needs. You cannot process the passage of time, you are an ever-present singular point, a singularity of complete internality. How the fuck could you ever determine what matters when everything about you and your life has never mattered at all? Everything you think you're upset about is actually just a biological inflammatory response at being exposed to something you were never meant to be a part of. This isn't for you and you coming in to spout off is like walking into a library and yelling because everyone is reading books and not paying attention to you. Even the homeless guys jerking off at the public computers are annoyed at you. There is an entire spectrum between mindless entertainment and serious discussion and you exist outside of it. You are a 2D organism traumatized by the third axis. Why should you care? Because living this way guarantees your inevitable immolation. People with autonomy will not tolerate you forever. You occupy a pretension of participant discourse which exposes you to a role outside of your station. Every time someone tries to be something they aren't, God punishes them very dearly. It could be as direct as you getting vegetablized by a vagrant on the sidewalk because you inserted yourself into their existence under the delusion as some correctional force. It could be as subtle as the people in your life shifting you into a position of destitute solitude, being slowly drained away by wageslavery until you get turned into cattle fodder by an uncaring government wanting to feed you bioexperiment diseases in exchange for a burger coupon. Or it could be serendipitous divine retribution breaking your car's transmission, twisting your ankle, hosting a moderately inconvenient tumor, or wiping your bank account from a link you clicked. All of these things are the end result of you pretending to be a person. They are the whims of God watching you disrupt the divine order. Imagine what the farmer does to the chicken that bites his feeding hand. Today a shrill squawk, tomorrow face first into a convex upside tube as the sharpened knife gets closer to your throat. It's right up against your gullet, waiting to turn your entire headframe into a PEZ dispenser and yet all you can ask yourself is "Why is the sky upside down?" One day you, your kind, and your descendants will be funneled into a giant concrete cube in the middle of the desert. You will live inside a smaller cube with four others sharing bunk beds with you. You will all shit in metal toilets embedded into the wall and eat sludge that comes out of a faucet in a common area. You will pedal on bicycles to generate electricity and while solving Mechanical Turk puzzles in exchange for pornography. This is what you are, a unit. You were meant to be herded. You were never meant to feel the wind or see the open sky. Your existence is white fluorescent light and screens that get to have colors if you do a good job. Eat your corn grain. Lumber about in dignified silence. Lurk if you must, but stop posting. Leave the posting to the posters, you'll be happier for it. You don't belong here, this isn't for you, and there's absolutely nothing of value you have to say. If you're upset at this being directed to you, it's upsetting because you were too fucking stupid to realize you could've just decided not to be the person this was directed towards. All the actual humans who read this already did, and they clap for me while spitting on you.

A completely calculating sociopath that believes in God, karma, and universal vibrational balance would conclude that doing good for others and avoiding unnecessary harm to others leads to the best net positive results for themselves. They would be indistinguishable from a Saint.