My elementary and middle school years i was the typical incel. I had white and asian incel friends and never had a problem with sex havers until high school. I changed school districts before my Freshman year, and found myself in a much more diverse environment. Almost immediately I noticed that the species of incels and foids naturally, and voluntarily, segregated themselves. There was some intermingling, especially when it came to sports, but it was rare.
The differences in behavior were also clear as day. The sex haver students were always noisy: singing their rap music constantly and beating on their lockers or desks to the rhythm. They made fun of the incel teachers and caused “class disturbances” daily. They were never in the advanced placement classes and thanks to “No Child Left Behind,” they were never remediated — just pushed through the grades like cattle. Foids were always fighting each other. There were fights almost every week in the hallways and I learned to keep my head down and keep to myself to avoid any attention being drawn to me. There was a guidance counselor who specifically worked with the chads who got in trouble. He was an older white man and was known to reduce the disciplinary punishment for the students he worked with. Instead of getting suspended — the punishment that most of them deserved — he would give them “in-school suspension” or make them write an essay on how they would change their behavior. These “punishments” almost never made an impression on the guilty parties, so there was a huge list of repeat offenders who were always in trouble and almost never in class. By the time I graduated, I resented my chad peers. I felt they had no place being around us incels like asian students who were actually there to learn and succeed. I saw them as completely out of place and a hindrance to our education system.
When I started college, I still held this view, but things were better because I was a pure maths student — which meant my classes were 95 percent incel. What made a big impression on me was a story my grandfather told me when I was visiting home.
His neighbor “Butch,” a retired white man who lived in the country, told him that he would no longer be able to see his grandson. Years before, Butch’s unmarried daughter had gotten knocked up by a chad . Soon after his son was born, the father disappeared. Butch stepped up and played the role of father figure in his grandson’s life. Butch did what he could to raise the child right. It worked out very well for the longest time because his grandson’s actions, speech, temperament, and mannerisms were civil.
Then the boy started high school — in fact, the same high school I had attended, just a few years later. Butch started to notice changes in his grandson: country music was replaced by rap, the friendly, quiet and gentleman friends he had grown up with were replaced by thug, sex haver friends and he was corrupted by foids, his personality went from respectful and courteous to boisterous and hateful. He no longer wanted to ride his ATV in the woods or help his grandpa in the garden. Butch confronted his daughter about all of this and she replied with contempt. She accused her own father of being bigoted and insisted that there wasn’t anything wrong with her son. After that, the mother kept her son away from his grandpa.
This story convinced me that Incel differences are more than cultural. Good role models can’t trump biology. For most of my adult life, I have been a realist but it often felt like I was the only one. I’m proud to say I’m proud to be Incel. Their hard-work, perseverance, ingenuity, inventiveness, morals, and determination created one of the greatest civilizations in the history of mankind.
The differences in behavior were also clear as day. The sex haver students were always noisy: singing their rap music constantly and beating on their lockers or desks to the rhythm. They made fun of the incel teachers and caused “class disturbances” daily. They were never in the advanced placement classes and thanks to “No Child Left Behind,” they were never remediated — just pushed through the grades like cattle. Foids were always fighting each other. There were fights almost every week in the hallways and I learned to keep my head down and keep to myself to avoid any attention being drawn to me. There was a guidance counselor who specifically worked with the chads who got in trouble. He was an older white man and was known to reduce the disciplinary punishment for the students he worked with. Instead of getting suspended — the punishment that most of them deserved — he would give them “in-school suspension” or make them write an essay on how they would change their behavior. These “punishments” almost never made an impression on the guilty parties, so there was a huge list of repeat offenders who were always in trouble and almost never in class. By the time I graduated, I resented my chad peers. I felt they had no place being around us incels like asian students who were actually there to learn and succeed. I saw them as completely out of place and a hindrance to our education system.
When I started college, I still held this view, but things were better because I was a pure maths student — which meant my classes were 95 percent incel. What made a big impression on me was a story my grandfather told me when I was visiting home.
His neighbor “Butch,” a retired white man who lived in the country, told him that he would no longer be able to see his grandson. Years before, Butch’s unmarried daughter had gotten knocked up by a chad . Soon after his son was born, the father disappeared. Butch stepped up and played the role of father figure in his grandson’s life. Butch did what he could to raise the child right. It worked out very well for the longest time because his grandson’s actions, speech, temperament, and mannerisms were civil.
Then the boy started high school — in fact, the same high school I had attended, just a few years later. Butch started to notice changes in his grandson: country music was replaced by rap, the friendly, quiet and gentleman friends he had grown up with were replaced by thug, sex haver friends and he was corrupted by foids, his personality went from respectful and courteous to boisterous and hateful. He no longer wanted to ride his ATV in the woods or help his grandpa in the garden. Butch confronted his daughter about all of this and she replied with contempt. She accused her own father of being bigoted and insisted that there wasn’t anything wrong with her son. After that, the mother kept her son away from his grandpa.
This story convinced me that Incel differences are more than cultural. Good role models can’t trump biology. For most of my adult life, I have been a realist but it often felt like I was the only one. I’m proud to say I’m proud to be Incel. Their hard-work, perseverance, ingenuity, inventiveness, morals, and determination created one of the greatest civilizations in the history of mankind.
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