Books have the ability to grant you a tête-à-tête with the mind-concentrate of the greatest men in history. Dead or living. This is a real life time-travel glitch, and you should be exploiting it.

In modern thought, everything happens next to a comment section horde of loud, chronically online voices. The opposite of history’s greatest men. This is a restrictive and hostile environment for deep thought. No matter where you go, no matter what you see or read, there will be retards waiting for someone to cross the latest HECU Tripmine word. “You said the bad word!!!” the horde will come screaming from over the hills. And thus the original, possibly thoughtful idea and person will degenerate into the same predictable noise you’ve seen a million times.

This retard can be found in a comment beside what you’re trying to focus on. It can be the commenters reading your own post, completely missing your point and pulling you down into another brainless brawl with some Indian that can’t even spell to the level of a 5th grader. Or most terrifying of all: The retard might be in your own mind. You might be reading this right now, violently shaking from my choice of phrase, tormented by my website’s lack of a comment section for you to complain in, all while completely missing the actual point, which is:

Books don’t leave space for retardation. You don’t get to argue over trivialities and distractions. Not only do books isolate you from the social enforcement of our retarded current-day fashions, but they neuter your own retardation as well.

To read


Have red

This list is obviously non-exhaustive. I am only mentioning the ones I remember, and thought enough of to give a mention.