There’s a certain herdswoman by the name of Jennifer who is currently trying to direct her flock of sheeple to an as of yet unknown conclusion. Yes, I did just call her a name (exactly the way anyone inclined towards philosophy and critical thinking would), and I don’t do so lightly. As the kink community of Vancouver starts looking into every dark corner for Grant Wakefield’s identity, Jennifer is actively attempting to discourage anyone from cooperating with Reive. Again.
Now, my understanding of the Nietzschean concept of the herdsman/Last Man is hardly profound (like, even I can’t focus long enough to read and pontificate about every word of those comments, but I get the drift). But this is the first thing that sprang to mind when I observed her, once again, not literally telling people what to do; but rather, telling people what not to do. When you’re forbidden from movement in any particular direction enough times, you will naturally reach the conclusion that there is only one direction left to go. That’s when Jennifer will either tell you “Well it’s not like I was telling you what to do!” or “I knew you’d make the right choice in the end.” Apply heaps of pseudo-affection and head-patting liberally. Repeat as tolerated.
Even as superficial as my understanding of the idea is, I see Jennifer reflected in it. I see all of the time I spent, investing every available weekend and weeknight in her parties, workshops, and assorted casual events. I see the reason why I felt so alienated that I actually felt depressed when my romantic partner paid her the equivalent of a month of my rent for my lifetime membership. I had just been in tears, telling my friend that I knew that’s exactly what he was going to go and do, because he didn’t get that there’s nothing there for me but a lot of distraction from the fact that the only thing waiting for me was my cold, lonely bed at the end of the night. That I didn’t have an outlet and already felt profoundly used was only amplified in my private thoughts when I shaved my head and suddenly, I wasn’t needed around for everything because no one was responding to me sexually any more.
Only I don’t know what her end-goal is any more, with the latest stunt she’s trying to pull. All I can tell is that she wants control over who has information on Wakefield, who gets to see it, and who is seen giving it. And that’s a dangerous thing, considering how she’s already been handling the transparent spread of information without her prior approval. Just take a look at what she’s been doing to smear me, for instance (there is also detailed information about her recently smearing Reive and one other individual who is in the process of suing her for it; as well as information pertaining to her having a former business partner fired from her unrelated job).
You’re on notice, Jennifer. Don’t flatter yourself thinking no one sees right through what you’re doing.