Dox Report 2: Transgressing Social Boundaries

including early access to the egg report walking simulator. 45 minutes of riveting gameplay

I’m extremely sorry about not posting more than once a week. Had my brother’s wedding this week, along with some personal life drama, things have been pretty busy. That’s no excuse. But I’ve come so far in my process that I don’t want to write about my brothers wedding and expose other people’s private life in my own navel gazing here. Took me 10 years, but I’ve made the slightest amount of moral progress. I can recognize that that event doesn’t “belong” to me, and it isn’t mine to give away in literary form. As the forefront freedom fighters against the global techno-panopticon, I feel like, you have to be the “respecting peoples privacy” you want to see in the world. I’m like cyber-Gandhi. I’m like the Gandhi of posting. I’m like the Gandhi of not having sex.

Now that I’m actually writing and the curse of the blank page is broken, I feel like I could go on forever. I could write and write, about one of the many things on my list, and sell you a bridge. But my heart wouldn’t be in it. and I think what makes this relationship work is being heartful, and only writing about what I truly care about (at any given point in time).

I am interested in this boundary. How much to expose - how much to reveal. Exposing all of myself, that’s all well and good. But exposing my family, talking about them behind their back, in public? That’s no good. That’s not right. What variable do I judge it on; “literary value”? “public interest”? “click-ableness”? search engine optimising? it’s a slippery slope. The seductive wisper of clickbait is always there, in the back of my mind. it’s not a slippery slope argument - its a slippery slope confession.

The very first long thing I wrote on the internet pseudonymously, my first breakthrough twitter thread-turned blog post edited by Californians who “discovered” me, included this problem. It was more formally about women and happiness and art and all sorts of things, but the story is about “A” and “B” - two people who I knew, with real names and lives. Did I “protect” them, by turning them into letters? Or did I turn them into trophies? My biggest hit of all time returns more directly to this issue.

I often talk about the linguistic problem of Love, the inability to express love within language. It is impossible to say “why I love her”, and every attempt to put it into words feels vulgar, diminishing to her and to love. In this sense, I am a great, great lover of women. I am perhaps the greatest. My coming was foretold by the “manosphere” and the red pill blogs of the 2010’s. I have not come to break the law of Delicious Tacos, I have come to Fulfil It. I come not to bring peace, but war.

On a purely practical level, external from all moral considerations, full blown shamelessness and indecency is clearly effective. This is why bronze age pervert is a nudist. As mentioned in “Big Brown Nips” and many others, we are always-already within pornography, and we will continue to be until the day the internet is destroyed. We are all pornographers and we are all journalists.

I don’t want to talk about my brothers wedding because it’s not my place. it would immoral. I don’t want to write at length about my social life drama, because it is not yet resolved, and I worry that by leaving a paper trail, I open a window to proving myself wrong about something, or making a fool of myself.

If there is a boundary I’ve already crossed it. I’ve actively sacrificed relationships and having real conversations with someone, over writing a blogpost about it that no more than 600 people read. Would doing so have been justified if it had been 600.000 readers? 6 million? Down that path lies relativism, utilitarianism, chaos, and communism.

If it is the case that I am right about the objectifying process of literature - of “turning women into things” - then our entire media landscape incentivises this process. Turn all social relations into “stories” - and if you can’t read or write, dont worry about it, just use the prewritten schema and format/features of instagram, facebook etc. A world of vanity publishing of mad libs style “fill in the blanks” writing, if you want to imagine the future.

A machine of death that runs on human suffering and trauma, turning your pain and misery and real relationships into little shiny nuggets of Data, that you can show around and make everyone go “ooh” and “aah”. People like Quintin of the Book Club discovered this about “digital content”, and spent 7 months walking to Egypt: There is no ethical content production under internet 3.0.

here’s 45 minutes of me talking to myself in public, pretending to talk to “you”. the third video has the best jokes imo.