1.0

I’ve spent two years crucifying my eyes on this book because people told me it’s one I “need to read.” Maybe it’s a sign of the times, but I’m finding I need less and less prescribed philosophy from privileged, white, straight men. This book is a temple of apathy garbed in a vestige of wisdom for anyone suffering an over abundance of privilege and a life of beige experience. It is a masterpiece of egotistical masturbation, disguised as self-flagellation so that the act appears to be revelatory intellectualism, instead of something that should find its way into the bin with the other used tissues.