You Can't Have It Both Ways
The US has the right to enforce its borders. Nobody is disputing that. What is being disputed is the quality of the machinery doing the enforcement.
I'm not good at self-promotion. I'm terrible at it, actually. I watch people build personal brands — LinkedIn posts, Twitter threads, conference talks — and I genuinely don't understand how they do it without wanting to crawl out of their own skin. There are people who dominate rooms just by existing in them. I'm the one standing near the exit, thinking of something I'll wish I'd said three hours later.
I don't know where this comes from. Failure, probably. Enough of it that visibility started feeling dangerous. There's something in me that resists being known — not in a mysterious, romantic way, but in a broken way. The kind that makes simple things like updating a bio feel impossible.
And yet. I have opinions. Strong ones. Ones that keep me up at night, ones that I've stress-tested against history and philosophy and my own inconsistencies. I want those opinions to exist in public. I just don't want me to exist in public alongside them.
So here we are. A blog with no face. A name — Gab — and nothing else. The arguments are the whole thing. If they're good, they don't need my face. If they're bad, my face wouldn't help.
Every culture on Earth has a concept of human worth. None of them define it the same way. But they all agree on one thing: there is a floor below which no person should be pushed. This series defends that floor.
The US has the right to enforce its borders. Nobody is disputing that. What is being disputed is the quality of the machinery doing the enforcement.
The law is a human invention. It can be wise or foolish, just or unjust. Blind obedience isn't virtue — it's the abdication of moral responsibility.