I want to hate Sam Kriss.

my thousand-word response to a one-word hate comment.

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I’ve never read a Sam Kriss article.

This isn’t for lack of trying. I know that he is a very important person. He has 49k subscribers. That means he is a certified GoodWriter. In comparison, I am a BadWriter.

But he paywalls a lot of his articles, so whenever I come upon something, it’s just a preview, and not the real thing.

I have had this happen to me, from time to time, where someone reads something that I’ve written — a note, or a comment — and they respond in the most low-effort, dismissive, hateful way.

I have an article about this.

Sam Kriss goes in the absolute minimal value, maximum disrespect quadrant. No information; no analysis; no counter-argument.

But maybe that’s unfair. Maybe what I’ve learned is that Sam Kriss is Jewish, or Christian, and he doesn’t appreciate my takes on the history of theology. I don’t really know, because he paywalls so many articles that I can’t discern anything of substance from him.

The other possibly valuable bit of information is that Sam Kriss is trawling Substack for low-view-count articles.

This is fascinating. The article I put up got 138 views, and Sam was one of those viewers. Did I win the lottery? Or is he secretly stalking me?

I guess the title was really attractive to him, but the content was repulsive. Maybe I’m just really good at writing titles, but horrible at everything else.

I’ve also learned that Sam Kriss doesn’t respect his own name. See, if you have self-respect and a sense of honor, you take the Nietzschean adage seriously: never attack an opponent who is beneath you.

If an opponent is worthy, meaning they have some good in them, then you should launch an equally worthy attack. You should dedicate a 10,000 word article to refuting them.

Responding with “Drivel” is itself, by definition, drivel. No one has learned why I am wrong. It is not interesting or creative.

I remember restacking something Sam wrote, or liking it, where he attacked someone in a funny way. I don’t remember what it was, but I thought, “man, those are some really creative insults he is dishing out.” I would be honored by such insults.

But no, apparently to Sam, my title was so seductive that it wasted his time, but the content was so abysmal that it was only worth a one-word dismissal.

I thought Sam was a leftist, so I assume he is an atheist of some kind, and maybe he feels that I am reading too deeply into theology. Maybe he thinks it is all a big waste of time. But then, why read an article with Judaism in the title?

I’m shadow boxing with myself here. I assume that when someone’s first impression of you is “drivel,” you will never hear from that person again.

I am extremely neurotic, so when I receive hateful comments it usually sends me into a multi-day spiral. Some of my best work has been produced when I am in a state of manic-rage. I am determined to “best them” with superior arguments. But in this case, Sam has given me nothing to work with. I don’t even know why I am wrong, or how I am retarded. There is nothing to attack about Sam other than his personality. Which I would rather not do, because I have no clue who he is.

Since I know nothing about Sam Kriss, I will make up a strawman of him, and beat it like a pinata. “Oh, Sam is just like all those people, and we hate those people.”

Yup, I can tell just by looking at his face: he’s one of those people, who we all hate.

I respect the neo-Nazis more, who call me a kike, because at least they are telling me why they hate me. That’s somewhat useful information. Drivel is a non-insult.

Was I insufficiently detailed? Did I not provide enough justification? What would you like to see more of?

It’s perplexing to me, because I’ve written many historical articles which are quite long-winded, and they do quite poorly in the algorithm. I thought that a series of tightened bullet-points would be a breath of fresh air. Apparently not.

I must come up with something substantive to say. Sam Kriss attacked me! I am wounded! I want to be angry at Sam, I really do. I will work myself into a lather, bathing in rage, directing all my energy toward a refutation of his ideas and everything he stands for. I will launch a savage attack on his entire worldview, deconstructing him from top to bottom.

But I cannot. Sam does not know me, and I do not know him. He is like a small barking dog who has wandered into the Panera Bread to interrupt my day, but there is nothing to deconstruct, nothing to analyze. I cannot use my intellect here. I am totally impotent.

Maybe Sam realizes all this, and he has carefully calculated his response to inflict the maximum damage. He knows that the word “drivel,” only six-letters long, is the perfect way to drive me up the wall. If he were to call me “stupid” or “dumb,” I could respond by proving my intellectual superiority. But drivel?

He’s not even calling me dumb. He’s comparing me to the mucus of a sick man, dripping out of my fingers into the keyboard, producing something disgusting and weak. I am not great or cool enough to be “evil,” I am not masculine enough to be an “asshole,” I am not strong enough to be a “retard.” I am simply drivel.

I am the short Ginsburg, and he is the tall Draper. Powerful.

I cannot ever imagine him saying something like this to me in real life. If we were in the Roman Forum, and I was giving a speech on originary Judaism, would he walk by, shout, “DRIVEL!” and then walk away? Or would he keep his useless thoughts to himself?

Creators are supposed to be above such behavior. That kind of outburst is reserved for the Pöbel, the masses, the peanut gallery.

Maybe that’s why people like Sam so much. He, like Donald Trump, speaks on their behalf. He is their voice. He shouts drive-by insults, without any attempt to add value, just a sadistic, low-effort attack, without any grace or gravitas. And the people shout, “MORE, MORE, WE LOVE YOU SAM!” And Sam is a very well-to-do man with 49k subscribers.

Maybe this is a rite of passage. Maybe every single Substacker, at some point, after writing 600 articles and 2 million words, finally gets that coveted “drivel” badge. No one escape’s Sam’s wrath; he’s an equal opportunity hater.

Or maybe some people are truly and genuinely loved by Sam. He has a tight-knit community of lovers, a support group of fighters for truth, justice, and peace. I think he is anti-Israel, right? So I suppose he has been fighting the good fight to save the Palestinians, arm-and-arm with his legion of 49k subscribers. Every now and then, this morally superior army of moralists must inevitably blow off steam, and I was a casualty of their leader’s excesses. All is forgiven Sam. I understand how hard you work, and a little sin every now and then is understandable.

It’s quite easy to attack Sam in a passive-aggressive way without truly knowing anything about him at all. Perhaps that’s a good tactic — by misrepresenting his views, I can agitate him, which will lead to some back and forth, and I will finally get that coveted two-word insult that I have been craving, in response.

Although, having said that, my reverse psychology tactics ensure that I will never hear from Sam again, because he now knows exactly what I want, and will refuse to give it to me.

Anything is possible, and I want to be open to it all. Love, hate, peace, and war — everything in its own season.

There you have it: my thousand-word response to a one-word hate comment.

UPDATE: