Why You Actually Love Slavery And Aren't Sorry About It

’m going to tell you why you actually love slavery, and aren’t sorry about it.

Slavery is a very simple concept, and trying to make it complicated is foolish.

Here’s how slavery is defined:

“I own you, and compel your compliance.”

If someone can say that about you, guess what?

You don’t have the least bit of freedom.

You’re a slave, because you can’t get up and walk away from things. That would involve leaving binge episodes behind, getting off your useless adipose bags, and learning how to be a man in the world instead of urinating your life away in an unrecoverable stream of profit for corporate, political, and government interests.

Might even mean taking a risk. How terrible.

How horrible to have to fend for yourself, to depend on your own intelligence, your own integrity, your own power in the world. Why, to set yourself against people who are more successful than you could be dangerous, and you might lose.

Sweet, lovely, calming slavery.

You love it, and you know it, and you get angry when it’s pointed out that you’re a misshapen glob of subservient idiocy.

Why, there’s nothing quite so comfortable as being taken care of, and not having to worry about whether you’ll be forced to innovate, adapt, improve, struggle, and perhaps go bankrupt or die in the process. Those struggles are for the crazy ones, the ones who don’t line up to be injected and absolutely refuse to wear a mask plus face shield and stand a safe distance from other human beings.

Weak, stupid, frightened people are useless when it comes to building nations and cultures and civilizations. Might as well lock them in a chain and whip them until they bleed out, even if only to serve as an unpleasant and churlish example of what kind of human being not to be.

There’s always lots and lots and lots of people willing to surrender their dignity, their honor, their courage, their ethics, their beliefs, and their children’s future if they can just please live without having to do anything other than be whipped to death later than the next person.

Well, that’s just how it is. Most people don’t want freedom, most people don’t want responsibility, most people don’t want to actually throw themselves into the raging inferno of freedom that does, in fact, kill more people than it raises to success and power.

I have news for you, and youre not going to like it.

Slaves deserve their fate.

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Slavery is a choice.

Slavery is a very personal choice.

Slavery is the choice to live, rather than die, because your existence matters more to you than your dignity as a man made in the image of God.

Slavery is the choice to live, rather than die, because you magically believe your hopes and dreams will be granted if you please another man enough.

He doesn’t care about you, that’s why he’s called “master” and you’re called “slave”.

“Ivan, I have to work for a living.”

Nice chain-polishing you got there.

“Ivan, I can’t fight the government.”

You haven’t tried, because you’re afraid.

“Ivan, you don’t understand.”

You think I can’t see all your excuses?

“Ivan, you’re not taking pity on me.”

If there’s anything my longtime readers and clients will tell you, it’s this:

I don’t do pity.

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One of the side effects of being a free man is that you inevitably receive enormous amounts of hatred and resentment from people who are slaves.

Slaves to ideology, slaves to work, slaves to their own weak, sick, ugly conception of themselves.

Now, I really don’t care why someone is a slave.

It’s not my problem if I don’t own them.

They made a choice, and they have to eat it, and if they don’t like the flavor… why, there’s this thing called “rebellion” and you really do have the ability to get that started any time you want.

“Ivan, you’re not being respectful of this Very Important Holiday!’

Really. I’ll tell you what I see.

I see hordes and hordes of uneducated, uninspired, uninformed, unintelligent, mostly useless human beings celebrating that “slavery is Really Comfortable Now and why, one shouldn’t notice these chains around us unless they are losing a bit of polish, then by God we’ll polish them some more”.

Pardon my snort of contempt.

I don’t respect idiots doing idiot things.

I don’t respect slaves doing slave things.

I do respect men who master others, because – let’s face it – they have the capacity to do it, they have the coherence to manage it, and they have the competence to sustain it.

This has always been the way of the world, and it always will be.

Don’t tell me you’re awake to being a slave, so long as you prove another man master with every thought, word, and deed you manifest in the world.

Show me you’re awake to being a slave, by doing something about it.

Talk is cheap, and slaves bitch all day long until you whip them into silence.

If you don’t think whips are always ready for you, all I can do is smile and shrug.

Place bets, perhaps, on how long you’ll be permitted to embody your human prerogative.

Before your weak, frightened, useless lack of manhood drops you right back into the mud.

And, of course, you go back to work, muttering about “someday” and “eventually”.

Yes, there will eventually be a “someday” and you won’t like it.

That day will come when you realize it’s too late to do anything with the time you have left.

That’s not one of the problems I have.

That’s not one of the problems my team has.

That’s damned well not one of the problems my clients have, because I make bloody certain that we break every lock that straps them down on the whipping frame of an unforgiving master.

I despise slavery, and even more I despise slaves who choose to remain that way.

“Ivan, but you’re so expensive! I can’t afford your coaching!”

Too bad, slave.

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If you wanted freedom, you’d kill for it.

If you wanted justice, you’d burn the world for it.

If you wanted success and fullfillment and power, you’d break free for it.

You can try it the impossible way, as a loner, all by your silly self,

Or you can get the savage, pitiless, unstoppable help you need, right now.

Up to you. I don’t worry about the fate of slaves.

I help men, and Swift helps men, and we break their locks forever.

And those locks can never be used against the man again.

Unless, of course, all the shiny shackles are why you actually love slavery.

Don’t be a slave, brother. It’s disgusting, and reprehensible.

Be a free man instead, with purpose driven by prerogative.

Freedom’s incredible, irreplaceable, and invigorating.

I recommend you get moving on it, brother.

Talk to my team today.