The Incel Inquisition

Written by Sharon Czehzlelberger

“I hate women, they only want to fuck Chads and GigaChads.”

Local self-proclaimed Incel Jimmy Dinkus, 19, sat across from me at local Applebee’s affiliate Chili’s, nursing a glass of whole milk and a plate of chicken tenders I begrudgingly purchased for him to get the interview.

I noticed Dinkus while I was on campus doing my usual rounds of tearing down flyers for organizations without strict transparent POC representation. Pock-skin, pale face, he was noticeably reading a hardcover copy of Mein Kampf in the Union Building. The Modern Warfare 2 t-shirt and the jean shorts were all I needed to see to know that I had my story.

“Yeah Hitler was a pretty cool guy. Sometimes I read that book out loud on the bus to bother the normies.” Dinkus has this smug, caucasian air about him. He told me he was a KHV: in IncelSpeak™, this means Kissless Handholdless Virgin, a type of person I didn’t believe existed until this conversation.

“I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was 5, Autism when I was 8, Aspergers when I was 11, and I had to get surgery after I burned my penis in a microwaved banana. They put me in Special Ed classes and made me wear a nametag with my illnesses so they could identify me.” Dinkus’s case was a sad one, a story that hardly seemed like his fault, one almost worth sympathy. But what he said next was what helped me realize what a scourge this movement really was.

“I think if your partner count is over 2 before you turn 18 you’re probably really unhappy.” The staff of the restaurant had to hold me back from stuffing my choker down his throat, and I demanded a few mimosas to calm down, lest they receive a lawsuit for restraining a handicapped femme without my consent.

I asked him what could possibly compel him into believing such things, where he was radicalized, and how often he feels remorseful about how his mere existence is putting people like me in danger.

“Uh… I don’t.” He looked me dead in the eye with all of the crust, all of the hate burning in his big brown Aryan eyes. “You ever been around a woman lately? I mean, it’s too late for creatures like you, but i’m talking about live, breathing women. Attempting to interact with them is all it takes to know what’s wrong.”

I left the interview at this moment, disgusted and unable to continue. How did we let it get this bad? Why can’t online white supremacist virgins just die in a hole where they belong, instead of pestering us already disenfranchised folks who just want to be able to wear Gimp suits wherever we want.

About the Author —

Sharon Czelhbunger: Poly, Les, She/They, Afro-American

An investigative journalist with a penchant for the patriarchy, Czehzlelbergess graduated with an Associate’s Degree of Creative Writing from the American Southern Poverty Law Center. Amateur comedienne podcaster by day, undercover writer by night, her favorite tea is Oolong and her favorite malt is Mickey’s. A bad bitch with fat hair, subscribe to her Patreon and follow her Premium Snapchat if you want to support the winning side of the race war.

“I think most people’s view is that selfies are just vanity and stupid, but I think they’re really great” – Hannah Gadsby, inspirational comedienne.

One comment

  1. Fred (Au Natural) · January 11

    He is a classic case of blaming the world for what he is doing to himself. I understand the pain and alienation of being on the spectrum. I didn’t have a clue how to socialize at that age but I didn’t blame other people. Logically, if most people can get by socially but I cannot, it is more likely the problem is inside me than outside. OTOH there weren’t so many people out there looking for people like that to radicalize and the internet to do it over. Telling a person that it isn’t his problem but rather the people he is unable to interact with is seductive. It offers the easy way out.

    It is easy to find people who will tell you your shortcomings are all the fault of the world and you are really ok as you are. That’s how cults are created. As an Asperger person who has lived a long time and thought a lot about it, I can say there is no blame to be placed. No one chooses to feel like a Martian or be unable to read social signals or be clumsy. So, no it isn’t your fault. There is no “blame”, it is just a bad die roll.

    That doesn’t mean you ought to wallow in it.

    If you are skinny, that can be fixed. You can learn social signals by algorithm. It is not as effective as instinct but is better than being clueless. If you are clumsy, build your life around activities that don’t require a lot of coordination. If you are physically weak, get strong and develop good cardio and work on your speed, you can still be an athlete. EVERYONE not in a wheelchair can do that. If you are pale, get some sun.

    Pockmarks aren’t the kiss of death as that guy may think – and even they can be “fixed”. Lots of people with pockmarks do well. Pockmarks get focused on when a person is generally disagreeable. Once you become unpleasant to be around, minor imperfections get picked up on. If you were an enjoyable person to be around, they wouldn’t matter. Nor would a few extra pounds or even a handicap.

    The most important skills a human can have are social and someone with strong empathy will overcome any disadvantages. OTOH, this guy’s disadvantage is a complete LACK of empathy. No room in his head for anyone’s needs outside himself. Empathy can be learned but you have to admit you need to learn it. Not as good as empathy one might be born with but still serviceable. If he’s going to discount other people for disabilities then it is only reasonable to expect other people to discount him for his shortcomings.

    When I was a young boy, I was a wimpy clumsy mess who didn’t even know to wash my hair or use deodorant or not mix plaids with stripes. I was bullied and teased and no girl would come near me. I thought about suicide on a daily basis. It took many years to figure out what I was missing and slowly accumulate it bit by bit. I’m still a loner and a social question mark but I managed to be a lover of women and get (and stay) married for 30+ years and raise a family. I learned to love a world that doesn’t love me. I’ve also learned that hate is a waste of time and that hateful people are best avoided.

    Most people know that instinctively. The first lesson is not to be consumed by hate. Looking inward for issues to fix instead of outward for blame is initially much more painful but in the long run more rewarding.


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