Truth Social, Twitter and the Loneliest Reich

Joan Westenberg
@westenberg
Published in
8 min read1 day ago

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“We just want a place where we can speak freely!”

It’s the plaintive demand of the free speech warriors, the call to arms that’s led to the creation of platforms like Truth Social and the transformation (read: fucking decay throughout) of Twitter under Elon Musk’s reign. These anti-moderation promised lands were supposed to be the “Festung” cities of unrestricted expression, without the “shackles” of mainstream media censorship.

And I’m here to tell you, it’s a fucking joke.

The free speech shitgoblins got what they wanted, and they’re still not happy. They’re still following the rest of us wherever we go, spewing the same tired nonsense. Why? Because it turns out that shouting into an echo chamber isn’t nearly as satisfying as they thought it would be.

They claim they’re fighting for the right to express themselves without political correctness. But if that were really true, they’d be content with their new digital playgrounds. Instead, what do we see? A restless horde, constantly looking for ways to break out of their self-imposed exiles. They’re not satisfied with preaching to the choir.

What they’re really after — what they fucking crave — is our attention.

The Attention Trap

The thrill of provocation quickly fades when everyone around you is nodding along in agreement. It’s like telling a dirty joke at a frat party — sure, you might get a few chuckles, but where’s the real satisfaction?

The “freedom fighters” want the rush of dropping a rhetorical bomb in mixed company. They want the gasps, the outrage, the furious rebuttals. They want to feel like they’re speaking truth to power, challenging the status quo, waking up the “sheeple.” But you can’t do that when you’re surrounded by people who already “think” (and I use that word very fucking loosely) like you.

This is the fundamental paradox of “free speech” platforms. They promise a space without censorship, where any opinion can be expressed. But what their most vocal users really want isn’t freedom of expression — they get off on provoking, antagonizing, eliciting strong reactions from those with a moral fucking compass.

The desire for conflict, for pushback, for the thrill of being the contrarian voice in the room, it’s not new. It’s been a part of human nature for centuries, from the Marquis de Sade (arguably the world’s first, and still wankiest edgelord) to the tired whining of radio shockjocks as they slide into obsolescence.

But social media has amplified this tendency to an unprecedented degree, giving everyone a potential audience of millions — if they can just get enough eyeballs. And the problem is, it’s a never-ending cycle. Once you’ve tasted that kind of attention, it’s hard to go back.

You need to keep upping the ante, finding new ways to shock and provoke. And when you run out of reasonable arguments or legitimate grievances, or when you don’t have the critical thinking skills to come up with any in the first damn place, you just end up screaming slurs and calling it intellectually forbidden speech.

The Loneliest Reich

Reality sets in when users realize they’re surrounded by people who think just like them. The thrill of provocation is gone. The rush of seeing your words spark a firestorm of debate and argument? Nowhere to be found. Instead, they’re left with a bubble where their most extreme views are reinforced but never amplified. Not to the degree they want.

Their restless desire for outrage leads to constant attempts to “raid” other platforms and push their content into mainstream spaces. There’s an obsession with “owning the libs” or “triggering the snowflakes.” The irony is that this behavior often leads to exactly the kind of restrictions and bans that drove them to alternative platforms in the first place. Which of course, they call victory, patting each other on the back for the “banhammer” when it’s really just being locked out of the house like an untrained puppy who keeps shitting on the rug.

The online nazis are, frankly, fucking lonely. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but beneath all the hate speech and edge-lord posturing, there’s a profound sense of isolation.

Think about it. What kind of person spends their days spewing vitriol on the internet, desperately seeking negative attention? It’s not someone with a fulfilling social life, a loving family, or a sense of purpose. It’s someone who’s feeling disconnected, alienated, and yeah, lonely as hell.

We aren’t talking about people who are winning at life. They’re not happy family men or pillars of their community. They’re often socially awkward individuals who’ve found a sense of belonging in the worst possible place — extremist online communities. Social media gave them something they crave: acceptance, a shared enemy, and a twisted sense of purpose. And when that shared enemy increasingly just leaves them alone, leaves them to the wasteland of their own playgrounds, they lose it.

They either retreat further into their online world, seeking validation from other lonely, angry people, or they go knocking on the door of any other platform they can find, trying to get their fix of acknowledgement by pushing the envelope further and taking their boorish shenanigans to the next level. It’s a vicious cycle: the more isolated they become, the more extreme their views get, which in turn pushes away anyone who might have been able to pull them back from the brink.

And you know what? It’s fucking sad. Not in a “oh, poor nazis” kind of way — their choices are their own, and they’re still responsible for the harm they cause. But in a “what a waste of human potential” way. In a “how fucked up is our society that this is where some people end up” kind of way.

The same people railing against “safe spaces” have created the ultimate safe space for themselves, a bubble where their hateful worldview goes unchallenged. But deep down, they know it’s not enough. They know that true connection, true belonging, can’t be found in a digital Reich.

So they keep pushing, keep provocating, keep seeking that hit of attention from the outside world. They keep signing up for Threads, Mastodon, Warpcast etc. Because negative attention, outrage, anger — it’s all better than being ignored. Better than facing the crushing loneliness that drove them to this point in the first place.

The Bigger Picture

The loneliness of “free speech” platforms and the behavior they engender sheds a light on a glaring revelation: the utter hollowness of right-wing extremism itself. The “free speech” platforms have inadvertently become a showcase for the intellectual bankruptcy of far-right ideologies.

When given free rein to express their views without restraint, what profound insights do our noble defenders of liberty and truth offer? Mostly recycled conspiracy theories, thinly veiled bigotry, and a whole lot of whining about the “liberal elite.” It’s like watching a dog catch a car — now that they have their platform, they don’t know what the fuck to do with it.

Their grand narratives about “cultural Marxism” or the “great replacement” theory crumble without their audience. Without the boogeyman of “Big Tech censorship” to rally against, their arguments are revealed for what they truly are: a house of cards built on fear, resentment, and a profound misunderstanding of how the world actually works.

Truth Social and Twitter both expose the hypocrisy at the heart of their ideology. They cry for freedom of speech, but the moment someone challenges their views or presents contrary evidence, they’re quick to shut down the conversation. Their version of “free speech” often translates to “freedom to agree with us without consequence.”

Their fight was never really about free speech. It was about power — the power to spread misinformation unchecked, to radicalize vulnerable individuals, and to mainstream extreme views under the guise of “alternative opinions.”

In creating trite supremacist echo chambers, they’ve done more to discredit their own movement than any “leftist plot” ever could. They’ve given the world a front-row seat to the logical dead ends and circular reasoning of their ideology. It’s like they’ve built themselves an ideological Panopticon, where the shitty, bargain-bin ridiculousness of their beliefs is on full display, not just to outsiders, but to themselves.

The Willful Misunderstanding of Free Speech

The “free speech warriors” aren’t fighting for some noble principle — they’re chucking a fucking tanty because the world isn’t their personal soapbox. They’ve deluded themselves into thinking that free speech means a guaranteed audience, as if the First Amendment comes with a clause that says, “And lo, the people shall be forced to listen to every half-baked thought that crosses thy mind.”

News flash, dipshits: free speech doesn’t mean free reach. It doesn’t mean anyone owes you a platform to spew your conspiracy theories. It doesn’t mean anyone has to amplify your thinly veiled bigotry. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean the rest of us are obligated to take your bullshit seriously.

What the crybabies fail to grasp is that true freedom of expression isn’t about the absence of rules — it’s about the presence of opportunity. But that’s too nuanced a concept for the “no step on snek” crowd. They’ve mistaken anarchy for freedom, conflating the ability to shout obscenities into the void with meaningful discourse.

Where Next?

We’re fooling ourselves if we think there’s an easy fix to this clusterfuck. We’ve engineered an internet that feeds on our basest instincts — our need for attention, our tribalism, our fear of irrelevance. And it’s working exactly as designed.

The “free speech” platforms aren’t failing. They’re doing precisely what they were built to do — create a never-ending cycle of outrage and engagement. The nazis, the trolls, the provocateurs — they’re not bugs in the system. They’re features.

Conflict drives engagement. Outrage keeps people scrolling. And the “free speech absolutists”? They’re just the most visible symptoms of a much deeper disease. They’re the canaries in the coal mine, showing us what happens when the pursuit of attention becomes an end in itself.

The real problem isn’t lack of moderation or too much censorship. It’s not finding the right balance between free speech and content control. It’s the fundamental model of how we interact online.

We can ban the assholes, we can create new platforms, we can tweak algorithms until we’re blue in the face. But as long as our platforms are designed to monetize our attention, they will always trend towards extremism. As long as provocation is rewarded with visibility, there will always be those willing to push the boundaries of decency for a moment in the spotlight.

We’re not going to solve this by appealing to people’s better nature or by creating some digital utopia. The incentives are too strong, the rewards too immediate.

So where does that leave us? Fucked, probably. But at least we can be clear-eyed about it. We can recognize that every time we engage, every time we react, we’re feeding the beast.

The best we can hope for is to be more conscious consumers. To recognize when we’re being played, when we’re being pushed towards outrage for outrage’s sake. To step back and ask ourselves if this is really how we want to spend our limited time and energy.

That’s the only real power we have — the power to choose where we direct our attention. And when every app is designed to capture and monetize every second of it, that choice becomes a radical act.

The attention-seekers, the nazis, the professional provocateurs — they’ll always be there, howling into the digital void. The question is: will we keep listening?

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