Written for Operation Werewolf by Joshua Buckley

The word “hate” gets thrown around a lot these days. If you dare to criticize the liberal-globalist-egalitarian world order, or if you voted for the guy with the orange hair and the small hands, than you are almost certainly a “hater.” You might even be a hater if you didn’t download the new Beyoncé album, or if you failed to binge watch the latest season of Orange is the New Black. Like the word “fuck,” the word “hate” is being divested of all meaning through overuse. But real hate—what I will call capital-H Hate—is not actually that easy to come by, at least not in the comfy, industrialized West (things might be different in some steamy, genocidal hot-house like Rwanda or the Congo). Capital-H Hate doesn’t fat-shame fat girls or refuse to bake cakes for gay weddings, and it has little or nothing to do with anyone’s “feels.” Capital-H Hate is the hatred that chops off your arms and legs before disemboweling you, rapes your woman while you watch, and sells your children into slavery. Liberals would do well to remember this the next time they declare that every Caspar Milquetoast-White guy who listens to AM talk-radio is a “hatemonger.”

As Jack Donovan has pointed out, real hatred involves a lot of emotional investment. To hate someone with a whole heart, you have to actually care about them. Most of us who have ever experienced the nasty break-up of a romantic relationship can probably attest to how closely intertwined love and hatred can be, and how quickly the one can morph into the other. Hatred also implies a sort of frustrated idealism. There is no reason to hate someone just for being who they are, unless you believe that they could somehow be different. You can save yourself a tremendous amount of misery by not falling into this kind of thinking. If you accept people as they are, and not as you imagine that they could be, then you can avoid the emotional expenditure involved in hating them, or the even greater emotional investment involved in trying to change them (which is the mistake humanitarian do-gooders make). The better course of action is to ignore them altogether, and to focus instead on keeping your own house in order. This doesn’t mean failing to notice people who constitute a legitimate threat, or who actively present themselves as enemies. But even in these circumstances, it’s best not to get too emotionally involved by letting yourself be consumed with capital-H Hate. As anyone who has participated in combat sports can tell you, the worst thing you can do in a fight is to lose your temper and start thrashing around like a madman. The cold, calculating killer with superior technique and a higher fight IQ is far more likely to dispatch an enemy successfully than the emotionally-overloaded fighter who has lost all semblance of control.

Real, raw, capital-H Hate is usually reserved for individuals. Very often they will be people who we trusted not to betray us, but who stabbed us in the back nonetheless (again, think of how easy it is to capital-H Hate an ex-lover). The idea that this kind of hatred could be extended to whole groups of individuals is beyond most people’s capacities. To give an example, I have known men who were self-described racists or who claimed to hate homosexuals, but who never personally mistreated a Black guy or a gay person in their entire life. In many instances, they could even show kindness or admiration towards members of these groups as individuals. This is a pretty clear indication that their supposed hatred was not of the capital-H variety, but something more like generalized disapproval. We might even call this lower-case-h hate, and it’s likely that this lower-case-h hate is what the chattering classes have in mind when they tar everyone with whom they disagree with the hate-brush. But like capital-H Hate, lower-case-h hate is often more trouble than it’s worth, especially when it’s directed at people who just are what they are. You might take tactical measures to avoid coming into contact with a snake, and you might chop the snake’s head off if it gets too close. But no right-minded person would profess to hate the entire class of snakes because it’s in the nature of a snake to bite.

Nevertheless, lower-case-h hate has its uses. Here’s a partial laundry list of some of the people I reserve my own most cherished (lower-case-h) hatreds for:

I hate anyone who claims that people are inherently noble just because they’ve been “oppressed,” or came out on the losing side of history. Conversely, I hate anyone who tells me that someone is automatically wicked simply by virtue of the fact that they are successful. I hate people who want me to feel guilty about the sins of my ancestors, but tell me that it’s ridiculous to feel pride in their accomplishments. I hate people who tell me its just as important to care about someone else’s children, in some part of the world I’ve never been to, than it is to care about my own. I hate anyone who tells me that I’m not “open minded” because I don’t agree with everything they say. I hate people who portray themselves as “rebels” and “free thinkers” when their opinions are exactly the same as those of the ruling class. I hate people who talk about “tolerance” but are completely intolerant themselves, or who never shut up about “love” when they’re just as hateful as the people they purport to criticize. I hate people who speak in empty platitudes and refuse to rationally defend their arguments, but condemn anyone they don’t agree with for being “ignorant.” I hate people who think that their own subjective opinions are synonymous with “progress.” I hate people who imagine that their sexual fetishes are going to change the world. I hate people who claim to be “anti-Establishment,” but who squeal to the media and the cops at the first sign of opposition. I hate these people because they are liars.

I hate guys who obsessively follow sportsball, and who swoon over other male athletes the same way pre-pubescent girls swoon over Justin Bieber. I hate adult men who spend all of their time playing videogames or watching movies based on comic books. I hate people who think Star Trek is profound. I hate anyone who’s ever been on a Disney cruise. I hate people that live in giant McMansions furnished with cheap Chinese crap, but who don’t own any books, music, or art. I hate people who only eat food out of a box. I hate people who pepper their speech with too many neologisms or, worse, lingo derived from texting. I hate people who watch too much TV (the average American asshole watches over five hours of television a day). I hate people who believe that the shit they see on TV is real. I hate people who think that “all things are considered” on NPR. I hate people who think that they’re smart just because they went to college. I hate people who tell me I’m not entitled to my opinion if I “didn’t vote” (and I didn’t). I hate anyone who likes music with auto-tuned vocals. I hate anyone who even mentions the play Hamilton. I hate people who travel abroad, then eat at American chain restaurants. I hate people who vape (unless they’re really trying to quit smoking). I hate these people because they are mediocrities.

I hate people that try to shame me for not “accepting” their bad behaviors and poor choices. I hate people who try to make a virtue out of their handicaps, instead of working to overcome them. I hate people who think Jesus loves them “just the way they are.” I hate people who are proud of the fact that they never read books. I hate adult men who think it’s okay to live with their parents. I hate people who don’t train. I hate people who aren’t conscious about the food and other substances that they put into their bodies. I hate people who use lack of money as an excuse for never doing anything interesting. I hate anyone who thinks “bullying” is a major social epidemic. I hate people who think that others are successful just because they’re “lucky.” I hate people who refuse to take their own side, and always try to understand the “perspective” of those who hate them. I hate people who think that the way to overcome their personality defects is by taking pharmaceuticals. I hate men that abandon their own kids. I hate these people because they are weak.

What all of these lower-case-h “hates” have in common is that none of the behaviors or attitudes associated with them are an essential part of anyone’s nature. Unlike someone’s race or sexual preference, they are all things that can be changed. But as I said above, it’s an utter waste to spend your life trying to fix other people: that’s what Christians and liberals do. The real reason to keep track of your lower-case-h hatreds is to better focus on the kind of person that you are endeavoring to become, as well as the kinds of people you want to surround yourself with. In this regard, these lower-case-h hatreds (and your own list will undoubtedly differ from mine) form the basis for another virtue that is also completely anathema to modern people: discrimination.

As for capital-H Hate, it’s a tricky business. No good comes from being consumed with it, and it can make you fight sloppy. But like all things in nature, it undoubtedly has its place. Perhaps you should keep a tiny bit of it secreted away in some dark, hidden corner of your heart. Then, in the hour of need, when a True Enemy rises up against you, it might give you that last little push that makes the difference between ultimate defeat and crushing, blood-splattered victory. In the meantime, bide your time, and try to be polite. Because I also hate rude people.