Notorious Notes: Cancer Profiteers + Hidden Camera Creeps
An homage to King's Things, but much more James-like
A reminder: I don’t want to get an email from you saying how much you don’t like this content. This is me trying to work out anger and things in my head. Sometimes… most of the time, I tell great stories or make excellent, but very controversial points, and most of the time, I will use vulgar language and/or say things that will shock you.
I am sorry if it changes your opinion of me, but honestly, if I couldn’t write like this, I would probably have a nervous breakdown. I love sports. I love banking. I love consumer stuff, but my god.. I have other interests!
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Notorious Notes
Hey everyone, long time no see. My wife told me I should write a Formerly Problematic column, and she was right. I hadn’t touched it in a while because football season has me writing a daily column about everyone’s favorite sport, and that keeps me plenty busy.
But I needed to write something else. I needed to vent. I needed the release. It’s been a long week, and I want to talk like me again, not just the sports reporter version of me.
So here we go. This one’s called Notorious Notes, a little nod to King’s Things, Larry King’s long-running column in USA Today. Ironically, I despise USA Today now because of its parent company. Larry himself though, with the suspenders, the legendary interviews, and the oversized noggin my friends always said I’d grow into one day, was someone I respected.
What I always loved about King’s Things, which I only discovered online as a teenager, was the randomness. He could jump from hot dogs to politics to baseball to some oddball thought, and somehow it all connected. That is the mark of a great conversationalist. They can talk about anything, and even if you do not agree, you keep listening.
That is what I try to do too. I am quirky. I will say things you might not expect, or maybe even disagree with. But you will listen, because I sound like I know what I am talking about. And maybe, just maybe, I actually do.
My themes might be a little vulgar. They may be a little out of place. They might even be a little beyond the pale. But I want to talk about them, and I do talk about them in my day-to-day life, because that is what makes me whole. What makes me whole is being able to unwrap and unravel everything going on in this world, and sometimes it is not pretty.
I am also going to tell you that these notes will be longer than the quick hits Larry King was known for in that column. Mainly because I do not have a newspaper controlling my word count. If I wanted to, I could write 20,000 words. I know you probably would not read it, but I could. I will try to keep it much shorter than the five and six thousand word columns I have been writing though. (Note, this is 6000 words on here. Sorry. I talk a lot)
#FuckCancer. Why the vulgarity and why the capitalism?
In my little social circles that have popped up from this writing career of mine, I see it everywhere. People hash tagging it. People posting heartfelt tributes. People whispering it through tears when someone close to them gets sick. And trust me, I understand the fear. I understand the anger. I don’t want it. I don’t want my wife to get it. I don’t want anyone I love to wake up one morning and hear the word “malignant.”
But I’ve never fully understood “Fuck cancer (#FuckCancer).” Why does this disease get the F-bomb when others don’t? What makes this disease so special, and why does it give you a right to be anti-social with bad language? It’s just weird to me.
Why not Fuck diabetes? Fuck High Blood Pressure? Fuck Cirrhosis of the Liver?
It is because those are too real, right? Because saying “fuck diabetes” would force us to look at the soda cans stacked in our trash bins. “Fuck high blood pressure” would make us look at our stressors in life. “Fuck cirrhosis” would mean we have to self-analyze that we socially drank far too much.
It would force us to admit that we spend more time scrolling on our phones than walking around the block with a greasy, sugary meal and drink on the side of us. It would force us to face that we made choices, day after day, that landed us here.
That’s too heavy. Too personal. Too much like blame. So instead we hurl our vulgarity at cancer, because cancer feels random. Cancer feels like an ambush, an attack from the shadows. It gives us a clean enemy. And a clean enemy is easier to curse than our own reflection. It’s the reverse lottery.
And here’s the thing: I always grew up with the notion that being a negative, ugly, vile type of person can cause cancer. All that negative energy around you just gets you sick, you know? That’s why people get ulcers whenever they’re middle-aged — because they just don’t know how to handle stress, and they overexert themselves on everything and anything. The body keeps the score, and eventually it cashes in.
There’s so many people like that in social media. There’s so many negative people where their insides are just at war with itself because they are getting older and choose not to find peace. There are some people who frankly you expect are going to drop dead from stress or the illnesses that come with being that person.
Now here’s the part that weirds me out about this phrase.
The hashtag #FuckCancer started trending in 2009, back when hashtags first became a thing on Twitter. But the actual phrase goes back to 2005, when a California snowboarder and surfer named Brandon McGinnis got diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma and decided to found the FuckCancer Foundation.
He died in 2007, which makes my point more than likely more valid, because someone is spearheading this campaign long after he was gone.
Who is making money?
Think about that for a second. You find out you have cancer, and the first move you make is going to LegalZoom or the state of California’s website to set up a nonprofit LLC. Priorities, right? And when you go to the FuckCancer website, the first thing you see isn’t “Mission” or “Research.” It’s a store. Hoodies. Tees. Bracelets. All shouting “Fuck Cancer.”
They rip off Jack Daniels design as well!
Now, maybe some of that money does go toward cancer programs, sure. But let’s not kid ourselves. Nonprofit doesn’t mean no profit. I know because I used to run one. Nonprofits can be very, very profitable for the people who start them.
And here’s where it makes me shake my head: you’ve got sick people spending money which is either hard-earned out of their own pocket or received as a GoFundMe gift meant to cover the real costs of cancer.
Things like travel, medical bills, keeping the lights on when you can’t work. Suddenly that money is being funneled into someone else’s pocket because you’re buying a t-shirt with a hashtag that just shows a vulgarity.
And who is that really for? To elicit sympathy from strangers? To coax even more donations out of GoFundMe? I don’t get it. I just don’t get the point of that.
So now whenever I see the hashtag #FuckCancer on social media, I think of it as just another sales pitch proven effective, making money for it’s founder and emptying the pocketbook of the patients who needed the money in order to make a fashion statement.
It’s “do you want to load your baked potato?” at Chili’s or “do you want to make that burger a combo?” at Burger King.
#FuckCancer has become part of the health care industry itself. A cottage industry built on people being mad that they got sick. And I get it—I feel for them, I really do. But the truth is, someone twenty years ago decided to turn that anger into a business. To slap a vulgarity on clothing, on gear, to make it look punk rock.
It’s not rebellion. It’s retail.
You have commercialized your own death… for someone else.
And that’s what brings me to another topic.
We commercialized cancer anger and turned it into hoodies and hashtags, and now we’ve done the same thing with perversion.
We’ve taken something ugly, predatory, and destructive, and made the tools for it cheaper than a night at Applebee’s. If “Fuck Cancer” is retail, then perversion in 2025 is wholesale.
It’s Affordable to be a Perv, and That is a Problem. (Part 1)
The common denominator I want to talk about today in both parts is perverts and hidden cameras, specifically those disguised inside something as ordinary as a ballpoint pen.
Let me be blunt though: I do not think there are more perverts today (per capita) than there were a couple of generations ago. I just think they are more emboldened. It is like antibiotic-resistant illnesses. They have adapted. They know how to operate in ways that slip through society’s defenses, and in some cases, they are more brazen and virulent because of the culture we have created.
Now, let me stop here and be clear. I am no saint. I am an adult. I enjoy adult discussions and content. That doesn’t mean porn, but it means I like talking as an adult like an adult.
I like talking about sex, about life, about women. That is normal. That is healthy. I am 42 years old, and I know myself, my body, my mind, and my intentions. I am not some middle-aged guy out here with no boundaries, saying or doing whatever he wants around women, especially younger women.
You can still be a patriarchal figure, still hold respect for yourself and others, and still acknowledge that you find women attractive.
Society wants to criminalize having a libido and we see 70-something Bill Belichick dating a woman in her 20s and while I agree, it’s weird as hell, it’s not at the same time. That’s a function of communication and reciprocation. If he was “a creepy old man” then she wouldn’t be there. No, it’s a smart person hanging out with a smart person. Sometimes your perfect counterpart doesn’t fit inside a perfectly shaped box.
The problem though is the rise of men who cannot function in society. When those impulses tip into crime, when they buy a hidden pen camera or cross a line into voyeurism, we need to do more than just slap the “pervert” label on them. We need to analyze what is happening with them.
Creeps have always existed, but technology and the internet have turned them into something resistant to the natural guardrails we used to have. They are harder to stop.
Now let me make one thing clear. Between my early twenties and early thirties, I never had limits. I was a very forward person. I hung out with a lot of women, and I was direct with them. After going through my teenage years without dating in high school, I felt like I had missed out. So when I lost a little weight, gained some confidence, and finally had a chance, I made the most of it.
But I also carry something heavier from that time in my life. When I was a teenager, I was nearly a potential victim of sexual assault. I did not even have the language for it then, but I knew something was wrong. I am not going to ask for tears because nothing happened, but it easily could’ve…and to one kid, it did.
The only female friend I had in school invited me to her house, an old trailer in the same neighborhood I lived in. It was November 1999 a place that reeked of cat piss, and the man who lived there, someone nearly thirty years older than me, in waiting for his daughter to get changed in the other room put his hand on my thigh.
In that moment, I understood the score pretty clearly. I left that day and never went back. Two months later, he was arrested for kidnapping a 13-year-old boy who also lived nearby. He is still in prison today, though technically due to get out in a few years. I doubt he will live long enough to see much freedom.
This man and his wife were also charged criminally (she went to prison too) for bribing my then-high school aged cousin $500 in cash and some rims for a vehicle to sleep with the wife/mom of my friend.
Both the kidnapped boy, now in his late 30s and my cousin reportedly still hear about their incidents from bullies still to this day if you can believe it.
That experience shaped my outlook on these things. It showed me that these kinds of people were always out there, long before the internet or smartphones. Pornography existed in video, print, and internet form. Sexual harassment was even MORE prevalent in workplaces back then as opposed to now. People were simply who they were, and some of them were predators. I had to process that reality at an age when I was still trying to figure myself out.
So no, I do not apologize for pursuing the women I spent time with in my twenties and thirties. It was earned, and it was a byproduct of work on myself. If you listed all their names, it would take a page at twelve-point font on a word doc.
If you listed every woman I talked to in a suggestive way, and I want to make clear that it was reciprocated — it would be three or four pages at ten-point font. That was who I was then. I am not that person anymore. I promise you that. But I would be lying if I said there are not still battles of the mind sometimes.
That is why I write this column. It is how I work through these things, because I do not want skeletons hiding in my closet. I will talk about those more soon.
Anyway, didn’t think I was going to disclose that. I did in a book once, but I pulled it from the Amazon website.
That’s why I write this column. It’s how I work through these things, because I don’t want skeletons hiding in my closet. And honestly, that’s why whenever I see these kinds of stories in the news, I don’t just scroll past them. I stop. Because it feels familiar. It reminds me of the people I ran into when I was younger — the ones who crossed lines, the ones who couldn’t function like normal human beings. Which brings me to something that just happened here in New Mexico that caught my eye
From KRQE in August:
New Mexico: a 34-year-old man has been arrested for allegedly placing a hidden camera inside a mobile shower trailer provided to wildfire crews. Court documents detail how the camera was discovered and removed, raising serious concerns about privacy violations against first responders who were in the middle of dangerous fire suppression work. The suspect now faces multiple charges, including invasion of privacy, with the investigation still unfolding
What He’s Charged With
The suspect, identified in media reports as Jason Gilbertson—faces multiple serious charges, including several counts of sexual exploitation of a child and invasion of privacy.
I am not one of those people who says he should be in prison for life and/or brutally assaulted in prison as “payback.” I hate people who say that, because it’s fake alpha talk. People don’t want to live in a society with brutal consequences on top of criminal punishment, trust me.
However, fuck that guy. 34 years old and THAT bald and creepy. Gross.
Note: I finally started shaving my head at 34yo, so I know it probably bothered him, but you just got to own your baldness.
But here’s the thing that ticks me off about the case.
First of all, the guy is stupid. If you read through the story, the way it played out is almost unbelievable.
According to the criminal complaint and the story, law enforcement was told that a female victim, whose age has not been disclosed, used the shower around 4 p.m. that day. She was directed by Gilbertson to use the shower at the very back of the trailer.
While in there, she noticed a pen sitting across a vent in the ceiling. She took it down, realized it had a camera and a micro SD card, and walked out of the shower with it in her hand. From there, it was reported to supervisors and then to law enforcement.
It is criminal. It is absolutely a violation, and she is a victim. But what stands out to me is the sheer stupidity of this guy.
Think about it…
Have you ever had a conversation with someone about which shower to use? At the gym? At a hotel? No. That is not a normal conversation unless it’s with a spouse or someone you live with. So the fact that he actually directed her toward the shower he had rigged, knowing that he had planted a hidden camera there, tells you exactly what he is. Grade-A idiot.
We have all had weird conversations with people, and that is why they stick in our heads. You replay them later with someone else and go, “Man, it was so strange that this guy kept talking about a specific shower in a trailer.”
And that is before you even consider the context. These shower trailers exist to help people. They are there for first responders and for communities hit by wildfires. They give firefighters a place to clean up, recharge, and boost morale at the end of grueling days. That space is supposed to be restorative. This loser turned it into a trap.
The thing that probably infuriates me most about this case isn’t even what I already told you. It’s more from the male perspective I have. You will not get this psychoanalysis anywhere.
This is perspective from me, a man who married a small-town girl, who dated small-town girls, who spent a lot of time in that type of area. I understand how rural communities look at the wildfire industry, the hotshot crews, the men and women who come in from all over the country to battle fires that plague this part of the West. And more importantly, I understand the human element of it all and the byproducts of dozens of random people going into your small town.
Being a firefighter on a wildfire crew, being a hotshot, whatever you want to call it, is like an aphrodisiac for small-town women. It is like being a bull rider, or the asshole with the guitar, or the guy with the giant truck working as a roughneck.
Those roles attract attention. Always have. Back in the day, I used to resent it, because those guys were my competition. All they had to do was spray water on a fire, get dirty, make a lot of money, and suddenly they had their choice of women.
And let me be clear, it is not just women gravitating toward male firefighters. Male and female firefighters hook up too. Connections are made. That is part of why some people do the job. I know both men and women who have been firefighters, and that culture is real.
So for Gilbertson to have this job, this built-in access to a world where relationships and hookups happen naturally, and then still stoop to hiding a cheap pen camera in a vent—it just shows you what a pathetic excuse of a man he is. He may have known the culture where being a fire fighter could get you immensely popular with women, but he never had the tools to actually interact with women. So he fell back on violation.
It’s Affordable to be a Perv, and That is a Problem. (Part 2)
In El Paso, Texas, a man named Christopher Sotelo was booked into El Paso County Jail for allegedly recording individuals without their consent. According to KFOX14 News, the owners of the Texas Bandits cheerleading group, which is a privately run cheerleading organization that trains young cheerleaders, said that a person notified them of a black rectangular object inside a bathroom. The person believed that it was a hidden camera. The owner of the business said that the camera had a small lens and found a 64-gigabyte micro SD card within.
First of all, I think it’s funny that the news story included the amount of space on the card, because I think I know what they were going for. They’re saying “64 gigs,” like, well, he could have recorded 100 hours of footage or whatever. It’s irrelevant information. I’m glad they had the information in there, but it’s irrelevant to the story, in my opinion.
And then the story says another person checked another bathroom and found what appeared to be a pen on the top of a décor item inside the bathroom above the toilet, wrapped or covered with a paper towel, the affidavit said.
The owner said the bathrooms are cleaned daily and the two items had not been there in previous days. So let me just kind of ponder that for a second. He had a pen camera and all he did was wrap it with a paper towel.
Now, these guys are pervs and they are fucking lazy. How are you that lazy and you’re a cheerleader? Wrapping it with a paper towel, assuming that it’s one of those brown rolls of paper towels that you see in businesses? That’s not very thick. It’s not like it’s going to be incognito. No, that’s Cognito. God, it almost seems not real.
This is what I think of when I think of a pen camera wrapped up by a simple paper towel.
And according to the owners, they said that they hadn’t seen those things in previous days, which means the bathrooms are cleaned daily. Which means if this was his first time, which I don’t believe it was, he is just amazingly naïve to think that what he did with a hidden camera, making it actually not hidden at all, was remarkable.
And then, according to the story, they said there was a three-minute video showing the alleged criminal Sotelo looking into the camera while manipulating the device. I think that’s a turn of phrase that they probably shouldn’t have used in this story. And then it says the video shows what appeared to be a curved stick, dark in color, a mirror with a white frame, a light fixture above the mirror, and Sotelo’s face.
It says that also in the affidavit, a separate five-minute video showed the owners of the business walking towards the toilet, urinating, and then leaving the bathroom. It says the people in the video told investigators they were unaware they were being recorded and were not aware of any recording devices inside the bathroom. What do you think?
I mean, that’s the whole point, right? That he got arrested?
I think the one thing about this particular story was the fact that, yes of course, he worked at a cheerleading camp and yes there were people that were younger there.
The whole way that the news framed the story, the first three days of the story, made it seem like he was recording young people. But he wasn’t, not that it makes it right.
It wasn’t until a couple of days later, however, that they distinctively said that he was recording the owners, which in and of itself is still disgusting and terrible, but it actually adds a different context to it because it became something where I believe that he was just fixated on the owners.
I don’t think that there is a particular reason why he would just randomly do it unless he was really, really attracted to the male owner or the female owner of the business. So it’s actually more about obsession at that point rather than just overall wanton perversion, if that makes any sense.
So I hope that you understand what I’m trying to say here. It’s terrible what he did, but the local news kind of framed the story to be, “Well, he works for kids and he was arrested for doing this, so that means he was doing it to kids.” And it just wasn’t the case.
It took them several days to correct the way they were telling the story. It doesn’t matter which way the story went. It is disgusting and wrong, and I hope he spends a lot of time in prison.
I think you just have another case of an incel, some man who is in his early 30s if I’m not mistaken, who has a full head of hair. He’s not a balding loser like the forest fire guy, but he still has had a world where interacting with people on a normal level just isn’t in the cards for him, and he had to stoop to this level.
And here is the bigger point. What does this say about how far society has let men detach from reality? These are men in primo situations where they could be developing socially, building connections for work, and strengthening themselves as human beings. Instead, years spent in front of phones and computer screens have warped them into people who treat women like collectibles, like trading cards.
Again… I have knowledge of this with how I used to socialize.
Human interaction becomes rare, like stumbling on ancient artifacts in a cave. It is ridiculous. Worse, it is corrosive. The sanctity of the spaces and routines that are supposed to make us feel safe, like showers, like gyms, like hotel rooms, gets corrupted by people like this.
And let’s be honest, the average person from childhood on now can probably spot a hidden camera. So what sense does it even make to do it? The way people are doing things now is broken.
This is where technology makes everything worse. Back in the 90s, if you wanted a hidden camera, you had to shell out hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars for one hidden inside a clock or a teddy bear…those “Nanny Cams.”
Now? You can buy a pen camera for less than $20 on Temu or Shein. It costs more to buy a McDonald’s meal with bacon than it does to buy a device that can ruin someone’s life.
Accessibility is great. Technology is great. But the other side of that greatness is that the cost of these items has plummeted and it has led to this.
Pornography itself is practically free. You can find almost every video ever produced in the adult film industry on the “tube sites.” Millions of videos, terabytes of storage, hundreds of thousands if not millions of views. And the comments — anonymous or not — are full of things people would never say in a normal group setting. It’s all free and a free-for-all.
Ever see prostitution stings? The dudes are always propositioning the cop with like $20 for sex. They are cheap, lazy-ass people…
That part is wild to me, because I remember when an adult DVD cost $60 back in 2001. That’s like $120 in today’s money. I’m sure VHS tapes in the 80s and 90s were just as expensive.
And as I mentioned, a lot of this is a generational thing now.
It all comes back to human interaction, or the lack thereof, for a lot of people in this age range growing up. And it makes me fear for the people who are currently in their 20s now, and it makes me fear even more so for the people who are pre-teens and teens now.
Because there’s going to be so much more of this incel-type behavior for a lot of people who don’t socially interact with anyone outside of the confines of the four walls of a classroom.
Meanwhile, people’s brains are warped from a world where the woman always says yes. She never says no. With a couple of clicks or taps, you can build your dream scenario on a screen. Then, when you add cheap tools like pen cameras into the mix, you’ve created a pathway where these guys try to make their own “reality.” Their own dream sequence. Except it’s not a dream. It’s criminal.
That’s the problem with how perverts operate now. We have made it practically free, or at the very least dirt cheap — to be this person. And that sucks. Because for the two who got caught recently, there are millions more out there who would do the exact same thing. And that is terrifying.
It makes me think of a Chris Rock bit from his HBO special Bring the Pain back in the 90s. He said:
“You don’t need no gun control, you know what you need? We need some bullet control. We need to make bullets cost $5,000. ‘Cause if a bullet cost $5,000, there’d be no more innocent bystanders. Every time somebody got shot, you’d know they deserved it. It’d be like, damn, he must’ve did something. Shit, they put $50,000 worth of bullets in his ass.”
The punchline was brutal and hilarious: “Man, I would blow your fuckin’ head off… if I could afford it. I’m gonna get me another job, I’m gonna start saving some money, and you’re a dead man. You better hope I can’t get no bullets on layaway.”
Chris Rock was hilarious back then. I don’t know what happened since — I think he got divorced — but the point still stands. Sometimes the only way to stop the sickness is to make the cost too high to act on it.
So here’s my proposal, and I know it’s probably impossible given the way things work and how Chinese imports have taken over the tech market. I’ve looked at plenty of digital cameras for journalistic work, and the Chinese-made versions are always way cheaper than the American ones. Same with knockoff cell phones and basically any gadget you can think of.
But what if we just made hidden cameras cost several thousand dollars?
What if we treated them the way Democrats say they want to treat guns?
You’d have to fill out an application. There’d be a waiting period. Maybe even a psychological evaluation of the person trying to buy it. Do you have a legitimate reason? Are you a private investigator? Are you law enforcement? Okay, fine.
But if you’re some guy working at Denny’s, why do you need a hidden camera?
Now, I know this would probably never pass. I know the market, imports, and politics make it unrealistic. But that’s not really the point. The point is about principle: sometimes the only way to stop the sickness is to make the cost too high to act on it. We don’t need perfection, we need friction.
We need barriers that make a guy stop and think, “Is this really worth it?” instead of buying a $20 pen off Temu like it’s a pack of gum.
We could hire people, pay them fifty, sixty thousand a year, to screen applicants. Pull up their social media. See if they’re leaving creepy comments on celebrity posts. See if they’re broadcasting their obsessions in public. A lot of this stuff is not hard to spot if you actually look. And yes, it would cost some money.
But raising the cost of these devices, from twenty bucks on Temu or Shein to several thousand dollars, changes everything. Even if someone passes all the vetting and still manages to get one for nefarious reasons, the fact that they were willing to go through all that means they were already deeply invested in this behavior.
They would expose themselves. And most importantly, you’d weed out the lazy, opportunistic perverts who only do it because it’s cheap, easy, and within reach.
Being a pervert with a $20 hidden camera is the same thing as being a bad content creator. There are some people who are skilled at it and they’re probably still out there doing it right now, never getting caught.
Then there are the others, the ones who think they can pull it off but can’t execute. And while those people eventually get found out and arrested, they still manage to victimize a lot of people along the way. Unfortunately, the damage is already done before the stupidity catches up with them.
And it’s definitely not a one-way street either. Society has emboldened people to avoid face-to-face interaction and instead use technology as the way to communicate.
I just recently did a discussion about a TV show with six other men, and I got paid for it. We were supposed to brainstorm ideas, talk about the characters, and share thoughts. It was actually unique and I’m glad I did it — mostly because I’m going to use that money to buy myself a real digital camera for my sports writing job.
Not that kind of camera, but the kind that helps me create something productive.
But here’s what struck me. During this Zoom call, I paid attention not just to what people were saying, but to their backgrounds. Three African-American men, two older white guys, and then a thirty-something with a ponytail who looked like the kind of guy you’d see waiting tables at a high-end restaurant. They all spoke well. They all had thoughts.
But the settings behind them screamed “incel.” Secondhand furniture. Unkempt spaces. The vibe of still living at mom’s house. These were people I could imagine watching hidden-cam videos.
And I thought about it here we were in the middle of the week, 2 p.m. my time, spending an hour talking about a TV show for a few bucks. What if these guys were using that money not for cameras or creative tools, but for porn, or booze, or just another disposable distraction? Meanwhile, I’m sitting there thinking, “I don’t believe I’m like these people… but I bet they think I am.”
And that bugged me. It pissed me off. Because I’ve worked hard not to be that guy. I’ve spent time learning how to talk to people. I’ve spent time learning to understand people. And more importantly, I know the difference between what’s wrong and what’s just something I might not be proud of.
Being a pervert has always been part of society, all the way back to Roman times. But in 2025, it’s easier, cheaper, and even more socially acceptable to be one. That’s the real sickness.
We’ve coddled people into relying on technology while never teaching them the basics of human interaction. And while you’ll always have bad seeds in a world full of face-to-face connection, removing that connection leaves people underdeveloped. It leaves them thinking, “Man, for twenty bucks, I can see that person I like naked,” instead of, “If I spend twenty minutes talking with someone in person, I might actually develop the skills to make them want to interact with me.”
That’s the difference between a creep and a functioning human being. And right now, society is raising more future creeps than it is humans. The math is simple: being a creep costs twenty bucks. Being a man costs twenty minutes of real conversation a day and you will meet girls/guys/whatever.
But the average man today can’t even do that…
Larry King never talked about shit like that, right? Well, I mean he was married 8x, so we know he was a freak too. RIP Larry.
King’s Thing’s wasn’t supposed to be that long.
Thanks for reading if you did. I missed it.
James