It’s been the most frustrating thing dealing with censorship. Not just online.
I grew up in an already feminized 1980s of The Netherlands. We were a pioneering socialist country about to invent gay marriage and trans surgery. Men were the problem, and White people were guilt of everything wrong with history.
I remember newcomers to my nation, Turkish and Moroccan people, were hailed as noble savages, morally better than us because their lack of development, as per Alexander Dugin, meant they were innocent primitives.
At the age of 4, my school took me to drink tea at a Turkish family’s house, as part of our introduction to them. Not them to us. Us to them. I found it odd, since their kid from school was brutally violent toward everyone else. A cup of tea couldn’t change my opinion of them.
As children, we were being conditioned to focus on the external, on people-pleasing, on helping “poor refugee foreigners” who, as has turned out, were nothing but a bunch of robbers hiding under the cloak of feigned innocence.
And then the censorship murdered my world. I was verbally extraverted as a child, but my all-female primary school teachers would call my mom if I’d been singing happy songs in the hallways after school, on my way home, so that by the time I got home, I was reprimanded for it. The teacher had complained.
This female all-watching-eye style of control is Jeremy Bentham’s panopticon in the flesh, or Sauron’s burning eye watching from afar. It’s the society that keeps your pulse from all possible angles and at all possible times.
As a teenager, I soon discovered all the forbidden things you weren’t allowed to talk about. TV began playing a big role in heavily diminishing the range of acceptable speech and thought. Our leaders in the Netherlands had gone on special trips to London to learn about the new “political correctness” craze. It was policy the British were perfecting in the 1990s, and the Dutch wanted to copy and spread it.
The early bulletin-board internet offered an escape. I can’t tell you how many online accounts I already lost before the year 2000 came along, but it must have been dozens, and then hundreds more followed. I got banned from every possible commenting platform, even from the infamous Polinco (which was supposed to be far-right).
Was I wrong for not even questioning the dogmas of the time, but merely trying to formulate them in my own words? I wasn’t even trying to oppose or debunk anything. I was just trying to figure out what the thought police would like us to think, but in doing so, I exposed its illogical flaws, because nothing made sense. I was called a far-right extremist before I was politically aware.
My short comments turned into long posts, my posts into articles, my articles into chapters, and the chapters became several of the books I later published. I focused on writing because speaking, I had learned, was totally forbidden. I was silenced before I even had begun to think.
I soon learned that the spoken word is a million times more powerful than the written. People will never have you arrested for speaking nonsense or lies, but they will throw you in jail immediately for speaking the sort of truths that cannot be officially denied. How dare you expose the state’s flawed logic!
As a kid, I had been misdiagnosed as being a math whiz, and told to pursue physics or that sort of thing. But I was really a wordsmith, an early writer. I had been writing a lot as a kid, including science fiction novels I wrote in a foreign language. My misdiagnosis wasn’t an accident. You see, I was technically born of the working class. My mom was a nurse, and my school was there to educate happy obedient workers. I was the high-IQ exception in a room full of sub-100 kids.
Of course the teachers had noticed my talents, so they decided to steer me away from literature and logic! Elites, ultimately, are threatened by only one thing: a man who can formulate better ideas in a way that makes the elites’ ideas look stupid. But don’t worry! The whole education system put in place in the West service to suppress the wisest kids. Their heads will be messed with beyond repair.
Sent down the wrong path, I ended up doing IT stuff in adulthood to make a living. But while I was writing code in “the zone” (usually cut off from the world, no phone, no distractions), my mind was producing public speeches I believed I would one day hold.
Indeed, having to do mechanical work produced the effect that my verbally wired brain began to obsess over all the more meaningful matters occupying the world, such as politics, geopolitics, history, philosophy, and so on.
I remember writing my first few blog posts about, for example, the Israel-Palestine conflict, and although my opinions on the matter were mellow and hardly three people visited the page to read my words, I felt I had committed an unforgivable crime, namely the crime of formulating my own beliefs on matters “better left to the politicians”. I feared the police would be on my door.
But I kept going at it--my wordsy mind kept producing insights about the world around me, and I could never dismiss the urge to put thoughts into words, and words into my mouth.
In my thirties, I started writing and self-publishing a dozen books, including several (short) novels, in which my long-repressed worldview began unfolding itself. A lifetime of reading helped me put things together coherently. I understood early on that the big problems of our time all hinged on what is called scientific materialism, which is this belief that everything in existence is just matter in motion, and that free will, a soul, and consciousness were just superstition, or the urine of the brain, mechanical byproducts of the Big Bang that had set everything in motion.
Had I once believed to be a biological machine, it is only because I had been conditioned like a dog to become one. My body revolted against this madness. I was not a slave! I was a real man. The voice in my head had found it rather odd that our Minister of Finance had said that the purpose of life is to educate children for the economy, first for the national economy, and then the global economy, as though we were still serfs trapped in a modernized and technologized feudal system. I wanted out. I wanted nothing to do with this “elite plot” ot treat people as fodder to feed a machine.
Now I understand how elites win and maintain power, and why those born at the bottoms of society could never, in most cases. The people in power regard the masses as their cattle, their technology. They do not regard us as human, and so they can inflict impossible pains--by incentivizing people to oversupply the world with babies, and then to cast the surpluses off to war, or into the virtual worlds of computer games and other ambition sinks. You see, a people living in balance with nature is an unprofitable one. It is from imbalance that elites receive their surplus wealth--tapped from the mines and the wells.
Humanity has become a giant inhibited organism ruled by an elite of people who are the only ones allowed to live a disinhibited life. The rich have learned to hide their antics from public scrutiny, and celebrities are surrogate-elites meant to distract the people away from the real elite. However, when they sell you the gay LGBT as a “lifestyle” or call transgenderism “a right to self-expression”, they are really inhibiting healthy reproductivity, whereas the elites themselves get traditionally married.
I finally started speaking out loud the speeches I had fantasized about in my head around 2018-2019. It was time for me to develop my speaking abilities, and in several languages, so as to reach a wider audience in Europe. The English language would help me reach a growing majority of under-30-yos in continental Europe. A financially windfall allowed me to focus all my time on studying more, and I used the subsequent years to developed a broad understanding of all that is going on in the world.
And that’s where I am now. It’s time to start doing my public speeches and be hated for them. But I am sure that, one day, I will break through the walls of the feminist panopticon and reach the common sense still hidden away in people’s minds, albeit behind the bars of their mental prisons.