On the misanthropic society, and my refusal to reply to the invitation

People create societies because they want to belong. There’s strength, see, in numbers and a shared opinion that saves you from thinking for yourself.

A contact of mine, who fancies himself as a bit of a wag, created the misanthropic society. And he asked me to join.

Such an invitation created a distopia of feelings. Whilst its nice to be asked to join a group, no matter how facile the subject matter might be (or, in this case, perhaps how anti-facile since it involves avoiding the majority of the gene pool in acknowledgement of their inadequacies), extending such an openness would be missing the point. And from the very people who are supposed to embrace misanthropia.

I clearly cannot join a misanthropic society that has any members. Membership is contact, human contact, and an acceptance of value. I cannot be part of this.

Guidelines to your success

They say that ambition is good, and that you should
work hard now
so that later,
you can work harder
at a bigger desk
and
for more money

They say that
this
is chasing the dream
and that you should
live it now
before
its too late

They judge on
money, and
class, first,
appearances
and
inherited meaning