Enough With The Bullshit
Aren’t you tired of all the bullshit? Because I am.
We're drowning in bullshit. It's become the dominant currency of our time — cheap, abundant, and endlessly exchanged. It’s like a contagion, slowly oozing into every crevice of our lives. It fills our inboxes, spills from our screens, and chokes our conversations like a toxic fog. It buys attention, rents credibility, sells narratives, and leases just enough plausibility to keep from collapsing under its own weight.
Bullshit is everywhere, unavoidable, indistinguishable from the air we breathe — it hijacks headlines, weaponizes engagement, and turns nearly every moment into a marketplace for manufactured nonsense.
And yet, somehow, despite all this, we keep inhaling.
But what, exactly, is bullshit? It’s the art of looking like something without actually being something — confidence without competence, persuasion without substance, spectacle without depth.
Bullshit comes in many flavors
Marketing bullshit — no, your product isn't “disruptive” or “revolutionary,” it's just a slightly faster way to get a burrito; corporate bullshit — no, your company isn't “like a family,” it's a profit-driven machine with employees who are just cogs in the wheel; self-help bullshit — no, the secret to happiness isn't waking up at 5 AM, taking cold showers, and manifesting your dreams, it's economic stability, a support system, and people who actually give a damn about you; social media bullshit — no, your X post isn't a sincere attempt at communicating meaningful ideas; it's an eye-rolling hot take masquerading as expertise and "authenticity" staged with professional lighting; and tech bullshit — no, your product doesn't provide a "seamless user experience," it's a series of data-sucking glitchy updates that break half the features, leaving us rage-searching how to roll back to the previous version.
So why then does bullshit thrive? Because it’s easy and thoughtless. Bullshit rewards speed over substance, noise over nuance, and volume over value. It’s cheaper to manufacture, faster to deploy, and easier to consume than anything real.
Like a bad currency, bullshit operates on an inflationary model — inflating itself into worthlessness. The more there is, the less value each individual unit has — so the solution, naturally, is to produce even more. Clickbait begets clickbait. Outrage fuels more outrage. Fake reviews spawn counter-fake reviews. AI-generated slop floods the internet, forcing human writers to imitate AI just to stay relevant.
Eventually, the signal-to-noise ratio collapses, and everyone starts choking on the exhaust fumes of their own nonsense. In short, we have reached peak bullshit.
So what are we to do? How do we detox from a world so saturated with artifice that sincerity feels like a design flaw? A few radical ideas:
- Starve the beast. Bullshit feeds on attention. Stop giving it yours.
- Tune out the noise. Tune into the signal — real insight is harder to find but infinitely more valuable.
- Stop rewarding mediocrity. Every click, like, and share keeps the nonsense alive. Don’t encourage it.
- Make something real. The world doesn’t need more echo. Say something with real feeling and real soul that actually matters.
That leaves us with the real question: Will bullshit ever die? I'm afraid not. It’s too convenient, too profitable, too baked into the way we operate. But every day, in every interaction, we get to decide to contribute to the landfill or build something worth keeping.
Bullshit is a choice. Choose wisely.