media

The Blind Hunger of Nothing

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As I write this in 2025, I’ve become fascinated by the amount of people in our culture that are Performative (capitalization intended). They want attention, internet clicks, regard, and engagement, so therefore do whatever gets them that. The Influencers, many a politician, no small amount of media personalities, and way too many social media addicts are Performative; some seem to be only Performative.

OK actually all of those kinds of people are Influencers. Anyway, let’s go on

A peculiar thing I keep noticing among these people for whom Performance is a lifestyle, is the only thing in their life, is an anger that burns inside them. It seethes beneath the surface, it bursts out in conflict far beyond something for attention. It’s seen in the glowering, contemptuous eyes and the edge in the voice that disregards most everyone if not everyone.

I’ve wondered as to the nature of this anger, as there are times it seems outright inhuman. The Performative people are all image, all anger, and in some cases seem barely human. There’s an emptiness there.

So, let’s talk desire.

Desire is the cause of suffering, a we are all too aware from our studies of psychology, Buddhism, Taoism, or just being alive and unhappy. Dealing with desire is a major part of mystical and not-so mystical practices.

Desire cannot truly be sated, it always comes back. It can be satisfied temporarily, perhaps enough for regret or enough to move on. One may recognize the temporary nature of the satisfaction and employ that awareness for wise choices. However many desires have at least the illusion of satisfaction, and in turn there’s some chance of definition.

We want to get laid. We want a drink. We want to get that promotion. Desire has at least some definition, even if we’re deceiving ourselves.

But for those who are Performative, I think satisfaction is elusive. You may engage in Performative behavior to make money or sell something, but the Performative nature can overtake your life. Some people just want the attention – or end up that way – and their entire lies are just about putting on the act to get the clicks, the praise, what have you.

The desire for attention is inherently unsatisfying. It’s temporary, it has to always been maintained, and it’s easily challenged. It also doesn’t relate to anything. You may become Performative to achieve some other goal, but your goal is to be someone else for people you don’t know to get ephemeral attention in order to get advertising dollars or something. You end up abstract from your goals – to achieve solid goals you must be epehmeral.

And that’s if there’s even much of a goal beyond a desire for attention.

I think the Very Performative people are so angry because there is nothing that can satisfy them even temporarily. The become only an act, without even the solidity of the illusion that they can feel satisfaction. They exist as pure performance, always on, always for the ephemera of attention, always empty.

Imagine walking around knowing you are nothing inside. Whatever was there rotted away as you worked on The Performance. You can’t even feel right. Even your anger is just a bitter resentment of everything because you’re nothing.

This insight is helping me understand the Very Performative, that look in their eyes, their instability, their sudden outbursts. They’re a giant yawning gap of desire with no chance of satisfaction because they’re empty of even something to desire. Their a ghost haunting the empty house of their own lives.

–Xenofact

We Can Be Heroes and Probably Shouldn’t

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We’re awash in heroes today. Funny, it doesn’t seem like we’re any better off.

I’ve had an interest in conspiracy theories and their impact since the late 80s, at first in extremist groups, then the further out beliefs. I came to realize over time that many figures in the Conspiracy Sphere were so-called heroes. The radio personalities, the pamphleteers, the shaky-handed writers of only-vaguely concealed bigotries declared themselves Heroes. They were always being attacked by The Conspiracy, they were anointed by God, or whatever. Every Big Name was also The Big Good Guy.

That’s not surprising. When you make it to the top, people want a story. When you manage to publish a book, you better have a story of why you have to read it. A lot of Conspiracy Stuff is grift, and grifters gotta market, and no one is going to trust Divorced Guy WIth A Medium Sized Library of Bullshit to explain the world.

As I contemplated this and was jotting down thoughts of heroism, I realized how the idea of the Heroic Conspiracist had evolved in the Internet Age. It had become democratized – everyone was a hero.

People regularly posted to message boards, supposedly giving insider information – which is indeed how we got the “Q” debacle. They could be heroes, even if they made it up – and maybe in time they believed it. You’re only a few posts from being declared a Crusader for Truth.

The social disaster of “Q” created many personalities decoding “Q drops” and lending their own theories to a burgeoning katamari of dangerous nonsense. If you worked at it, social media would let you build a following and yes-and your way to fame, if not fortune. Also sometimes there was fortune.

I detected an uptick in the UFO community of heroic stories, often around the Secret Space Programs where people were mindjacked into other lives by aliens. There were plenty of stories of space heroism, echoing tales of past lives from previous New Age communities. You no longer had to be yet another reincarnation of a famous occultist, you could be your own Spiritial Cosmic Fighter!

Anyone could invent themselves as a hero and ride the conspiracy theories to fame and recognition and feeling special. I’ve seen it called Main Character Syndrome, Protagonist Syndrome, etc. We certainly need a name for it.

Now this isn’t exactly new. Our media is awash in “heroes” you can pretend to be like. American Christianity tells people they’re in a great Crusade – and is also media fueled – but other religious trends have declared people part of some Great Heroic Effort as well. It’s just I think this got amped up in the Internet age to the point where we’re all supposedly heroes.

Social media would be glad to reinforce it for you if you had a good pitch and persistence. Believers didn’t just believe, they backed each other up, creating a web of confirming the heroism of each other. You could always find an audience to confirm your stories of heroism against aliens or the Illuminati or whatever. You can even make money at it.


It’s heroes all the way down. Sure some people jockey to be the Big Names, but you can get a little reinforcement here and there.

Of course it’s not heroism. It’s grifting. It’s loneliness. It’s people who need therapy not social media. But everyone gets to be a hero, even though none of them are heroic. Heroism has been hollowed out, lined with mirrors, and turned into a self-reflective room for personal aggrandizement.

Now I wonder how a world deals with so many false heroes – and how the would be heroes themselves cope. How do you step back from a lie and accept humanity? How do you deal with the problems of the world that need more of us just getting their hands dirty?

I don’t have an answer to that, except maybe some kind of psychological or spiritual or media trend at self-reflecting. A simpler, more involved, life. I don’t have any answers beyond vague speculation

I’m not hero I’m just a guy and I’m not sure yet what a world of fallen heroes will mean.

(Special thanks to the podcast Knowledge Fight, who’s further examination of Bill Cooper’s insanely plagiarized work helped me solidify this idea).

-Xenofact

The Flaws of Virtue

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The Flaws of Virtue

“Great Virtue Seems Flawed” is a quote from the Tao Te Ching Chapter 41. Lately I’ve been thinking about that between a mix of readings and watching today’s supposedly virtuous people. The former makes me think, the later makes me outraged THEN I think. I suppose it all goes to the same place – people with deep morals and principles, grounded ones, are NOT going to look perfect to people.

Because looking perfect is a great way to not actually focus on important issues and your own personal integrity.

Think of how much of “morality” we’re taught is just posturing. Say the right thing. Smile at the right time. Invoke some religious platitudes. I mean how many times do you see someone held up as a moral paragon who violates everything their religion and principles supposedly stand for?

In a media age it’s even worse. I’m often stunned – me, who’s had plenty of time to become cynical – how often supposed moralists are clearly not following what they say. They are lying to people’s faces, posing, posturing.

A person who has deep values, who has connected values, doesn’t place performative actions on a pedestal. They’re not here to sell you themselves, they’re not here to grift you. They have certain principles and act on them. Often that will conflict with the performative morality of others.

This also means that people who are interested in what is right and what values run deep is going to clash with the times. By definition someone who is contemplating what’s important is going to be at odds with flaws in society at the time. They will make waves, they will not be what we expect – and a smart society has “space” for wave makers (which lets you find out who has good ideas and who is just a jackass).

Finally, some ideas of what proper, moral behavior is really fall away when people take a look at deep issues and principles. Deep morality will seem flawed as people realize some things they were taught are, at best, useless, and worse harmful. Look at the history of people protesting injustice against people for skin color, sexual preference – at their time, they looked very flawed, but in retrospect we see their virtue (even if some want to deny it).

So yes, great virtue does seem flawed. It comes from a deeper source, from contemplation, from trying to get the big picture. We should always expect some moral friction in the world because we’re always re-evaluating things.

I would note, as a warning, that there is “being flawed” and “being performatively transgressive.” A person who’s deep morals come first and just happen to appear as flawed is one thing. Someone going around breaking things and putting on a show is clearly not coming from a deeper place.

And ironically, the performative faux moralist is probably performing “acceptable rebellion” so they’re conforming anyway . . .

-Xenofact