The Weak Ain't Wise

by: E.M. Burlingame

I'm sitting here in this my favourite dive bar, watching the drunks and the losers, you know, the real people. And I'm thinking about all the books I've read, all the lectures I've heard, and I realize that most of it comes from people who've never been in a place like this, who've never had to fight for their lives or their dignity. The truth is, virtually everything we know is the product of weak men and women—those who ran to academia or the priesthood instead of war, and women who chose the safety of lecture halls and social work over the raw power of matriarchy.

Take the men first. The academics, the scholars, the so-called intellectuals. These are the guys who couldn't cut it in the real world, so they hid in libraries and lecture halls, pontificating about things they've never experienced. They write about war without ever having fired a gun, theorize about poverty without ever having gone hungry. They're soft, sheltered, and scared of the dirt under their nails. Everything they write and say, they pray might get them laid. So they lie. Skew the world to women, to estrogen. And don’t get me started on the priests. They’re the ultimate cowards, hiding behind their collars and holy books, telling us how to live while they abstain from life itself. Telling us murder is wrong, while driving us to just such. They preach about sin and salvation but wouldn’t know real salvation if it slapped them in their face while they were sinning with the altar boy. These are the men who shape our understanding of the world—men who’ve never truly lived in it.

Then there are the women. The ones who go into academia or social fields, thinking they’re breaking some kind of barrier. But really, they’re just avoiding their true calling. A woman’s power isn’t in a PhD or a protest sign, not in an executive office or boardroom—it’s in her ability to nurture, to create life, to hold a family together with nothing but her will, to fight for her family and her warrior. That’s matriarchy, that’s strength. But these women, they think they’re above it. They want to be like the men, competing in a world that doesn’t suit them, all the while neglecting the real power they possess. Estrogen driven genocidals, vastly more toxic than testosterone could ever hope to be. They’re not liberators; they’re deserters, running from the battlefield of the home to play in the sandbox of made up murderous ideas.

So what does this mean for what we know? It means that most of our knowledge is second-hand, filtered through the minds of people who’ve never lived it. Weak men trying to get laid, weak women trying not to. It’s like learning about sex from a virgin. Sure, they might know the mechanics, but they don’t know the feeling, the passion, the messiness of it all. Our knowledge is sterile, academic, religious, disconnected from reality. It's a lie, virtually all a lie. It’s why you can read a thousand books on love and still not know how to hold onto it, or study economics and still not understand why people starve.

In the end, maybe that’s why the world is so fucked up. We’re being led by people who don’t understand life, who are afraid of it. And so they invent surrealities and try to force us all to live in them. Either too weak or predatory to live in reality themselves. The real knowledge, the real wisdom, comes from the streets, from the bars, from the battlefields, from the homes we share with our kids. But we don’t listen to those voices. We listen to the weak, the scared, the malevolent, the ones who hide behind their degrees and their titles, their frocking and pulpits. And that’s why we’re all so fucked.