[ad_1]
<div _ngcontent-c14 = "" innerhtml = "
No one complains like Alex Jones.
& nbsp;The row between cartoon between conspiracy theorist Alex Jones and podcaster Joe Rogan (described herefinally came to an end, with Rogan having invited Jones on his podcast as a gesture of goodwill.
The two men made peace in particular, the podcast being little more than another unbalanced Jones speech that has enough energy to feverishly address aliens, artificial intelligence, and Hillary Clinton for nearly five hours straight.
Of course, for Rogan, Jones is a genuine friend, his lovable lunatic, the guy who always delivers crazy conversation, as long as you can tolerate listening to his quick fantasies. But to justify inviting the controversial conspiracy theorist to the podcast, Rogan insisted on bringing Jones to an apology for all that Case of Sandy Hook, practically holding Jones' hand to prevent him from entering his interdimensional theories of child molesters.
In a brief moment that almost brought self-consciousness closer, Jones calculated that he plunged deep into conspiracy theories, to the point of questioning every atrocity as a possible false flag. At least every atrocity that could ignite a debate about gun control.
It was interesting to see how Jones presents himself as a victim of unfair media coverage, as a man simply examining events from every possible angle. Somehow, his illusions always support alt-right talking points, but this is certainly just a coincidence. Certainly.
As Alex exploded his way through his incomprehension of news headlines and science fiction stories, Rogan nodded, assuring Jones that he was not mocking him. "I believe you," was the most Rogan had to add to that conversation, as well as validating Jones' sad story of facing the consequences of labeling mourning parents of school-shoot victims as "crisis actors."
Jones being barred from Twitter, Facebook and YouTube, as well as facing a defamation process or two, made the man dramatically change his position on Sandy Hook. But he still firmly believes in almost all conspiracy theories, with the fun exception of Planet Earth. As delirious as it is, even Alex Jones knows the shape of the world.
Listening to the barrage of Jones' diarrhea, an imaginative mix of Nazis, aliens, hybrids of humans and animals, psychedelics and pedophilia, we are left with the impression that we live in a terrifying and chaotic world crushed by the weight of the rich. and powerful.
Indeed, this concept is not far from the truth; all Jones does is add some elements of science fiction and fantasy to the mix, backed by his insanely energetic delivery. He is a storyteller, his worldview not unlike the encompassing plot of the Marvel universe, a tale of aliens, gods and intelligent machines, albeit with an extremely sinister tone of racial IQ pseudo-science.
Jones' claims are strangely similar to President Trump's deep speeches; they communicate a tone rather than an idea. The two men are experts in communicating fear, confusion and paranoia. Jones seems haunted by an unseen enemy, drowned in the rapidly changing social and technological scene. And he's not the only one.
Hearing his word vomit, I finally understand why his listeners care to hear. The man is like a broken antenna, crackling with electrical misinformation, but he gives the impression that he is in something that the rest of the world can not understand, which he himself can not understand.
Believing in Jones' convoluted alternative history may be less depressing than plunging into the depths of reality. But his view of the world is inherently odious, impossible to surrender without becoming the kind of person who uses the term "red pill."
With this podcast, Rogan once again granted Jones a massive platform; hopefully, for the last time.
">
No one complains like Alex Jones.
The row between cartoon between conspiracy theorist Alex Jones and podcaster Joe Rogan (described herefinally came to an end, with Rogan having invited Jones on his podcast as a gesture of goodwill.
The two men made up in particular, the podcast being little more than another unbalanced Jones speech, which has enough energy to feverishly address aliens, artificial intelligence, and Hillary Clinton for nearly five hours straight.
Of course, for Rogan, Jones is a genuine friend, his lovable lunatic, the guy who always delivers crazy conversation, as long as you can tolerate listening to his quick fantasies. But to justify inviting the controversial conspiracy theorist to the podcast, Rogan insisted on bringing Jones to an apology for all that Case of Sandy Hook, practically holding Jones' hand to prevent him from entering his interdimensional theories of child molesters.
In a brief moment that almost brought self-consciousness closer, Jones calculated that he plunged deep into conspiracy theories, to the point of questioning every atrocity as a possible false flag. At least every atrocity that could ignite a debate about gun control.
It was interesting to see how Jones presents himself as a victim of unfair media coverage, as a man simply examining events from every possible angle. Somehow, his illusions always support alt-right talking points, but this is certainly just a coincidence. Certainly.
As Alex exploded his way through his incomprehension of news headlines and science fiction stories, Rogan nodded, assuring Jones that he was not mocking him. "I believe you," was the most Rogan had to add to that conversation, as well as validating Jones' sad story of facing the consequences of labeling mourning parents of school-shoot victims as "crisis actors."
Jones being barred from Twitter, Facebook and YouTube, as well as facing a defamation process or two, made the man dramatically change his position on Sandy Hook. But he still firmly believes in almost all conspiracy theories, with the fun exception of Planet Earth. As delirious as it is, even Alex Jones knows the shape of the world.
Listening to the barrage of Jones' diarrhea, an imaginative mix of Nazis, aliens, hybrids of humans and animals, psychedelics and pedophilia, we are left with the impression that we live in a terrifying and chaotic world crushed by the weight of the rich. and powerful.
Indeed, this concept is not far from the truth; all Jones does is add some elements of science fiction and fantasy to the mix, backed by his insanely energetic delivery. He is a storyteller, his worldview not unlike the encompassing plot of the Marvel universe, a tale of aliens, gods and intelligent machines, albeit with an extremely sinister tone of racial IQ pseudo-science.
Jones' claims are strangely similar to President Trump's deep speeches; they communicate a tone rather than an idea. The two men are experts in communicating fear, confusion and paranoia. Jones seems haunted by an unseen enemy, drowned in the rapidly changing social and technological scene. And he's not the only one.
Hearing his word vomit, I finally understand why his listeners care to hear. The man is like a broken antenna, crackling with electrical misinformation, but he gives the impression that he is in something that the rest of the world can not understand, which he himself can not understand.
Believing in Jones' convoluted alternative history may be less depressing than plunging into the depths of reality. But his view of the world is inherently odious, impossible to surrender without becoming the kind of person who uses the term "red pill."
With this podcast, Rogan once again granted Jones a massive platform; hopefully, for the last time.