Oh, Mr. Offord. Say it again. Please.
I know, 2017. I bet you'd forgotten all about this article, hadn't you? But I'd just been reading a young man's— a very young man's— appreciation of JP's "12 Rules for Life" here on Medium, I needed a breath of fresh air, and two clicks later, here I am, with you as the ozone-laden breeze wafting through my open window.
The very young man thought "12 rules", a book compared to which the writings of Louise Hay would sound like Simone de Beauvoir, was just dandy and by far the most original thinking he had ever encountered, because, I guess, he never heard my Dad say, "Pull up your socks and don't expect a handout from me, young hooligan!" And he glossed over JP's worst moments with the kind of apology you get from Trump supporters who say, "Yes, racism, insurrection, whatever, but he really got the economy going!"
All of which is to say, I can't thank you enough for this article debunking the odious beliefs, smug self-promotion and, to me, incomprehensible stardom of Jordan Peterson, "the stupid person's smart person."
Having spent the best years of my life—currently 2016 to the present, but that could change—railing online and in real time against the use of terms such as "politically correct," "snowflake," "social justice warrior," (and pardon me for my naivete in thinking that fighting for social justice would be something a boy would be proud of), and all the other school yard taunts and tired tropes the right uses for the sole purpose of shutting down meaningful conversation about inequality and injustice, I heard my alt-right alarm bells clanging fit to bust when JP became the darling of the moment, or, as it currently stands, half-decade.
I suppose it was inevitable. I mean, who could resist a guy who's fearless enough to stand up for the rights of that underserved and grievously marginalized group, white heterosexual men?
Just knowing that he used terms such as PC, SJW and cultural Marxism, just sensing his latent homophobia with my gay spidey sense and reading a sample of his turgid, pompous prose—also watching one of his YouTube videos where, right on cue, he complains about having his free speech curtailed to his audience of a million—was really enough for me. Yes, I'm shallow and lazy, but society made me this way.
I thank Minerva, goddess of lost causes and flaked tuna in broth, that you have the stomach and drive to debunk him in a thorough, researched, comprehensible to someone with University level education, probably legally trained way that I couldn't even approach. Strangely for me, I don't mind this, but am actually relieved.
So this is by way of saying you have a new fan. This is probably the only time I'll write such a lengthy response to you, but I needed you to know how much I appreciated, devoured, even, this article, also that you spelled "humor," "humour." From now on, I'll just stand at a respectful distance twirling my toe in the dirt. Promise.