User blogs
Online abuse for dummies
a guide to winning online arguments
Some people have had a wonderful and wholesome experience on the internet so far. It's true that if you're good looking and very normal, you'll mostly get a positive response if you make sure to stay within the confines of facebook and well modded subreddits. Others however, know all too well the hurt that has been caused by simply typed sentences. Some have even killed themselves over it. Some have also fought, and been successful at it.
This article is about how you can troll, argue, and rebel rouse without damage to your personality. All the subject matter I will mention here is for your benefit, I'm not trying to start a fight, I don't start shit as much anymore out of apathy and having a life nowadays to be honest. I however think SIN would get a lot from this knowledge.
A bit about me for reference, I came from a certain culture on the internet that is as old as it is dark. At 15 I scrolled limewire in the twilight years of the free internet. I was there in the early 2000s, before google came in with facebook and their army of regular plebs, hell bent on doxxing us all, and clamping down on our freedom. We fought to the last, but we were defeated, and became social outcasts (If we weren't already at this point).
I heard the call to arms again in 2015, and at the indignation of seeing the internet suddenly flooded with shitty propaganda, I stood side by side with some rednecks, the lolbertarians and others that didn't like being told what to say. I've never given up on my anti censorship and anti corporate views, and I've never backed down from a fight. I'm no hero, but I've had just about everything you can think of typed to me at some point.
Like a true satanist, I don't really care about following leaders or ideology, I just like to make fun of people that do.
The first things to do if you want to win arguments are simple
1. Be actually right. this goes a long way for obvious reasons
2. Do your research on the topic
3. An enemy of your enemy is not always your freind.
4. Speak clearly
5. Write well and avoid typos
These may be simple but the process is a deceptively hard one. To be one step ahead of the enemy consistently is always essential in intellectual warfare. If you give them and inch, you'll lose a mile.
Start by making a solid statement you know to be correct, in a place where you know people will argue with you. Christians like to come on here all the time and try this, and luckily Zach has a sense of humor and lets them stay and get their beliefs slaughtered in the forums. This is a solid way to start arguments when you're first getting started.
However there are other, more devious methods for sure. This is a classic I like to call, the troll in sheep's clothing:
step one: select cringy online community that will have turbo nerds who aren't used to confrontation.
step two: find what boards they post on, what games they play, try to discover where they congregate in one place.
step three: post there as a new member. Be engaging, make them feel superior to you. Make them think they are mentoring a like mind. Before too long there will be many responses and people watching the post.
Step four: slowly start to argue and refute them. Tell them why you don't like things and why they are weird for liking it.
Step five: When everyone is enraged, start posting porn and gore, until you get banned or bored. Alternate to step four if you don't wanna talk to them but just piss them off.
pandering and impersonation
another controversial form of attack is to pander to the enemy while also making them look bad. This has alot of uses when fighting antifa or the Nazi wanna betards (I hate both) You can actually cause them to defect from their cause by at first befreinding them online as a fellow radical, and then indirectly showing them how cringy they are. They think they defected with a freind, but were actually swayed by an enemy.
Impersonation is a technique people have been using to start wars for centuries. It works like this, conspiracy buffs know it as the "false flag":
dress up like the enemy and attack yourself to justify war. Or, alternatively, you can also infiltrate your enemy and suggest they attack you for real. either way, always a good technique for starting a good row anywhere.
conclusions
people think that being a keyboard warrior is easy. That's why they fail and look like idiots. Intellectual warfare is one of the highest and most potent means of establishing your own views, while providing healthy counterweight to the status quo. SIN is now well armed with the fun and interesting tactics of basic online psychological warfare. May you have victory in your online engagements, and bayonet the survivors with an evil glint in your eye.
A sociopath might be manipulative, but they are also shallow, and frequently more than a little dumb. Take those sweeping generalizations with a mine of salt as most of what we know about the population comes from research conducted in the prison system. A satanist and a sociopath diverge in that a satanist tends to be a sensitive type, deeply attached to life, curious, and thinks about the consequences of their actions. I have no data to back that up, other than my own assuredly inaccurate self assessment and equally problematic hunch about the general satanic zeitgeist. The satanist realizes that people, like machines, can be used to do things for them that they would rather not, or cannot do themselves. Both groups are united in their conscious use of people.
You can use a person for sex, as an emotional outlet, a political connection, labor, protection, and so and and so forth ad infinitum. Personally, I like to cultivate semi-distant though affectionate relationships with people from a variety of social castes with the outlook of an investor. Sure, this conversation, this movie, or this blowjob might not be fun now (rhetorically of course; I've never met a blowjob I didn't like, and if I ever met a blowjob I would ask how it managed to ascend from a thing done to a thing that is) but this time that I give to this person now will appreciate in the bank account of their memory. It may accumulate more time than I put in, and I will be in the position to demand more time from that person than I gave to them, or the time might change to something like cash when I'm in a jam, a ride when I'm pickled, or a joke when I'm sad. But I do not disregard the feelings of others, I factor feelings into my social calculus when manipulating folks. Furthermore I don't think that what I do is much different from what anybody else living in any human society does. We leverage our relationships to get shit. Sociopaths tend not to give anything back in trade, and take a short view of the exploitable relationship. They take the big shiny thing and blow the whole thing up rather than slowly drain people around them when it's needed, giving something back every now and then. Sociopaths drive their cars until the wheels fall off. I lovingly maintain my car; I change the oil, rotate the tires, and other things. This is a poor analogy because I know nothing about cars, though I understand that they require some upkeep. I maintain my human machines. If I don't, I would end up doing those things that I don't want to do.
Obviously, there are folks out there, like Machiavelli, Lau Tzu, and a bunch of others who've written far more effectively about the methods of manipulating people. But what can we learn from the bastards, the psychic vampires, the dreughs, and the human leeches that abound. They get along in the world through their drainage, and I can respect that in a certain sense. I think I would die of embarassment before moving back to my parents, going on the dole, living off of someone else or something. But if could erase that part of my brain, maybe I'd be the real winner at life.
Today’s news gave me a laugh. A nearly seventy-year-old sexual maniac decided to prey on young female students at the university in Poznań. He put on smart clothes, took a suitcase and introduced himself as a professor of anthropology doing a scientific research. He led naive girls one by one to a secluded place, gave them a survey to complete and then asked them to gradually undress themselves so that he could measure their muscle temperature. Each of the confused girls eagerly took off her clothes and let the bogus professor meticulously examine her naked body. The professor then wrote down the “results” in his papers and kindly thanked the girls for their contribution to the development of science.
It turned out that the guy “worked” at several universities and colleges in and near Poznań. When the girls decided to speak up, the police arrested the predator on the grounds of sexual abuse. Then, some psychologists commented on the whole affair; that we have a natural tendency to conform, that we usually trust and obey the authority, that the guy was very persuasive, that his professor disguise was like a magic spell, that the confused victim is easy to manipulate blah blah blah…
Or perhaps, the girls fancied some anal fisting and simply needed a good excuse.
Good morning said the dog walking a kid on a leash. Good morning I answered politely but couldn’t help chuckling. Yeah, it was the dog walking the kid, not the other way round. That damn dog was bigger than her, an eleven-year-old daughter of my neighbors who have just moved in. Totally irresponsible people. They should have bought a smaller dog. This one was too big. It was pulling the child behind itself. But why should I care? Not my business.
I returned to reading the newspaper. It was a beautiful sunny morning, just perfect for sitting on a bench in the park. It was just a bit too noisy for my taste though. Plenty of children running around and playing, neurotic parents calling and shouting at their kids. Total craziness.
Rex! Rex! Come back here! Rex! Rex! Come back! Come back! I looked around. The dog was running around the park with the leash hanging loose and the child was chasing it. Rex! Rex! Rex! Come back! Rex!
Those people are really funny, those who think they can walk the Beast on a leash. Sooner or later, the blessed day comes when the Beast gets out of hand. This is when it becomes beautiful. Chaos unbound, pure evil uncontrolled by anyone. It’s so amusing to see confusion and helplessness on their faces, or even anger, when it dawns on them they are no longer in control, when they see everything fall apart. They wish then they wouldn’t have started playing with fire. They wish they could turn the clock back but it’s too late…
Rex! Come back, Rex! Mommy! Mommy! Rex ran away! Mommy! And the child started crying. Like a puppet on the strings, I thought. It’s too late, my darling, too late…
Don’t worry she said and unzipped his trousers. James doesn’t know anything. Too stupid. He thinks I’m staying late at work. The loser can’t even find a job. I’m wasting my life with him. She was sitting on him and delicately caressing his breast with her tongue. You know how to satisfy your tigress. And she laughed and kept laughing louder and louder and louder…
I put my fingers in my ears but her laughter reverberated all round the room. I let the photos fall on the floor, the photos made by the private detective. She had been cheating on me for two years, fucking her colleague in a cheap motel. The nasty visions were passing rapidly through my mind. I must put myself together. Soon it will be over. I prepared myself for this for quite a long time. Everything will be all right. The doorbell rang.
Oh the dinner is ready! Oh James, how romantic! I took her coat and lighted the candles.
I watched her breathing while she was laying beside me. So peaceful and serene. I had put enough of sedatives in her drink. She looked self-confident as usual, even now, when she was sleeping, blissfully unaware of what was going to happen. I pressed the pillow against her face. I waited and watched how her life was slowly leaving her body…
She was always on top of me when we were making love. Always dominating at work, at home and in bed. Now there she was, submissive and obedient, bending unconditionally to my will.
Like a puppet on the strings, I whispered after I got off on her inert body.
It’s too late, honey. It’s too late.
