On Intellectual Stupidity

Since the start of my life, I have been cursed with freedom. I have seen the promise of paradise, and I have revealed it as a whisper from the devil. I have been liberated from statehood, legal obligations, labour and civilisation. Cast aside into the peripheries of the lumpenproletariat. The volatile and liminal space where freedom is still to be found.

Where you can exist according to your own schedule, where life is bereft of organising and taskwork. Where labour only exists as an immediacy rather than a higher societal purpose. Where wealth is food, and poverty is hunger. Where justice is pure and without the formalities of veiled violence.

I have been part of this strange aristocracy in rags. This perversion of tyranny. This twist of fortunes that reveals the ambiguities of abandonment. Because sometimes when a child is left adrift on the reeds of the Nile, a prophet is born. Baptised not in the fires of ruin, but rather in the fires of temperance. To know the light, but not the heat. To wander between the raindrops of judgement day, and to carry the burdens of its testimony.

To see, hear and speak to the evils of humanity, to witness the suffering and the violence and the hypocrisies of civilisation, and to be anointed as a messenger.

To take on this journey, to explain the dark and ruinous undercurrent of wealth and poverty, of gain and loss, is to be hated. All tyrants will hate the mirror who casts their own reflection. All parasites will likewise respond in kind.

Intellectuals frequently despise me. Not because I don’t know enough, but because I know plenty. Intellectuals adore stupid people, especially stupid poor people. Such people feed their fantastical illusions about themselves. When the poor are educated, genius becomes mundane.

Because truth of the matter is that most intellectuals struggle to be intelligent. They are the mercenary class of capitalism. They are the clergy of banks and politicians. They, just like the clergy of old, are to preach war, and poverty and tyranny to a people who have been promised the contrary. Their task is to mix the insidious ambitions of destruction with the prose and rhetoric of virtue.

Intellectuals pursue intelligence in a fashion similar to someone that would pursue strength by breaking everyone else’s arms. They owe their falsehoods and illusions through the parlour tricks of tyrannical labour divisions. They are not magical, they do not possess any essence, and they do not have any more superior genes than those of the fascist charlatans who invented such a delusion.

They are ordinary people. In fact, as capitalism intensifies, they grow more lazy. When was the last time an intellectual produced something that could compete with Faust or Ulysses? In fact, they hate such things. They absolutely hate the humanities and creative endeavours in general. That’s why they always allocate their most stupid people to manage the humanities.

People who never produce anything or teach anything. They never produce any authors or worthwhile individuals, they only teach people “critical examination.” Everything in the humanities is critical. The war on art and creativity is not something external, the biggest philistines and agents of artlessness are precisely those who corrupt culture from within.

The paid agents of liberalism, who indoctrinated my generation into criticising rather than creating.

But what else can one expect from the middle class? It seems like the natural outcome of those who are bound to a parasitic imperative.

To say that I hate intellectuals would be far too generous. Who hates a leech or a mosquito? Who hates a nuisance that will die on its own the moment you detach it from your skin? There is no room or necessity to hate a being that is entirely too weak to possess any real ability to hurt you.

Intellectuals are not dangerous. They owe their existence to the police and the armatures of violence that permit them to hoard knowledge behind walled institutions. The task of an intellectual is to make the public ignorant, because it is only in such an environment that they possess any visible and undiminished capacities.

In an enlightened and intelligent society they would be redundant, they would be, at most, a huddle of unemployed hobbyists. The only thing they owe their success to is how they are paid for their leisurely activities. They are modern day nobles. Stealing the recreations of the many so that they never have to work. So that they can disguise recreation as work.

But they do not work. They do not produce great poets, or great artists, or great creative works. In fact, the belittle and mystify such things. They train politicians and economists and businessmen to devalue such things. To deprive society of meaningful cultural works, and to dumb down the environment that is supposed to nurture us.

I speak to philosophy graduates who haven’t studied any philosophers. I speak to psychology graduates who haven’t studied any psychologists. All they seem to be given is a technical training that benefits some employer or other, without any regard for the virtues of cultural enrichment.

And that’s precisely why the stupidest, most pig ignorant, most uncultured and useless boors of our society are those who claim to be the opposite. They posses no intelligence, they only possess a flawed and reactionary understanding of what intelligence is.

So let us not waste any further brick, mortar or classical masonry on these people. Let us rebuild their places of work in canvass. Because this is the traditional accommodation for clowns at the circus.