Stephen King is full of lessons for the intelligent. He’s sucked for a long time now, and still has fans. He’s a geek and not a genius. He comes from Maine, a total loser state with nothing going for it but trees. What are his strengths, and the strengths of other half-successes?

First of all, it helps to recognize that this is a world of failures. Even military greats like Caesar, Napoleon, and Hitler all failed. They weren’t good enough to overcome the obstacles. They were flawed in ways that doomed them. If you’re going to be super-ambitious, you have to be super-capable in all ways. You can’t be limited in any one major area.

Back to Stephen King. He had two major things going for him. First, he was born with talent. Even a limited intellect such as King understands that. He had a natural ability to see things cinematically, which lead to effective images in his novels. His liking of people helped him to write characters that stood out. But his second major advantage was his drive. He kept improving even when he was lower quality. He was motivated to try. The combination of his natural bent for writing with incredible effort gave him his money and his fame.

But he burnt out quickly, after about five years. His addictions to alcohol and cocaine didn’t help much either. He wrote in spite of these things, not because of them. After a while he grew fat and self-indulgent. He knows he should write to please his fans, but he disregards this, and writes for himself. And in his later years, what he’s writing is not optimized for popularity. Recently he’s been writing about “Holly Gibney,” an inferior loser of a character with obsessive tics and crippling shyness. There is nothing popular about her, and only losers can relate to her.

King has started to bring in obvious politics in his books. Although he always leaned liberal, he has doubled down on this proclivity in his old age. He no longer cares that he offends half his reader base. The Republicans won 51% of the popular vote in the last election, and he shits all over them. By contrast, I — Greg Nikolic — make an effort to have an intellectual conversation with the Brazilian Mutt, an online progressive thinker whose politics are alien to me. I don’t shit all over him. I even apologized when I went too far and criticized him too harshly.

James Patterson, Stephen King, J.K. Rowling — they all have limited strengths. By comparison with the mass of shit writers out there, they’re the elite. They’re the half-successful in a world of failures. It takes a certain kind of brain to write well. And by “well” I am mean entertainingly at a simple level. Very, very, very, very few people are equipped to do so and it takes a lot of practice to get there. And even the best are woefully inadequate.

I like to think about Adolf Hitler and compare him to Stephen King. King knew what he was good at and what he wanted to do from a young age. Hitler had to flounder around and fail as an artist before he found his true calling. Hitler had two advantages: he could be emotional in a way that would make others emotional, and he had incredible willpower. But he was an inflexible thinker. He would think on a major decision for a long time, and then commit to it, not letting himself by swayed by new information. He fought wars on the Eastern Front that never should have been fought. If he was flexible, he would have withdrawn from the Russian campaigns and husbanded his resources in the inner power core of the Germanic peoples. But he rigidly held to the war, in his flawed belief that “those who are strongest win, and if you aren’t winning, you deserve to go down the tubes.”

Obviously, there are superior and inferior individuals, and the latter outnumber the former. But to say Germany was “weak” and wish its destruction because it was losing a war is a wrong-headed, judgmental aspersion to cast. In the end, Hitler wanted to self-destruct Germany and eliminate it because he believed it had failed him. He took his ideas to a fanatic end. To a wise man, everything is open for re-evaluation, including hardcore beliefs. Personally, I, Greg, have negative views about women. But I have challenged myself on this question, even speculating that I could throw in my lot with women, helping them out. In the end, I declined to revise my major opinion, but I was open to questioning it. I could have gone a different path. I just ended up confirming my initial assessment because it had proved the best, multiple times over. Hitler was never open to reconsideration or change. Had he been, he probably would have won World War 2.

Stephen King will never be a literary writer because he doesn’t understand literature. He’s not smart enough to get it. He seriously thinks a genre writer of entertaining fiction should be considered among literature’s greats. He wants the applause, more than he wants to do the hard work. He wants to be awarded. He’s a little bitch. Social things, and approval, mean a lot to him. His fat, cuntish wife’s opinion matters to him. He’s said that when he was a little kid, he wanted to be “nice” to everyone and win their approval. Such a man can write a popular novel, but can’t do what’s unpopular in the name of literature.

James Patterson is butthurt that Stephen King and the critics don’t like him. Who cares what Stephen King thinks, James? You’ve come across an innovative way of producing books that works. You’ve done your own thing. King calls you a “terrible” writer but you’re not. You’re just doing what you prefer to do, which is being the symphony conductor rather than a player. You shepherd the ideas along, edit the co-authors, and produce works that are always half-successful, which is better than the total failures that dominate the landscape.

When I become a writer, I’m not going to do any interviews. Why bother? Everyone from Michael Connelly to Elmore Leonard has done a bunch of interviews, but they’re pointless. They enrich the media outlet at your expense. They’re a sign of weakness. Writers are looking to be popular figures. They want to be known and admired. I don’t give a fucking damn if I’m known and admired. I’m entirely self-sufficient. I know I’m superior. I write stupid fiction because this is what I want to read. I can’t read anything anymore, and I’m a genius. It’s all garbage, boring, stupid, self-referential and lamely social. I want to write what I want to read. I want non-readers to read my stuff. I want to become rich. I will have all these things.

I am the only successful one in the bunch. They’re all half-successful in a world of failures.

Right now, I am waiting to accomplish a major project in my personal life. This has taken me 18 years to complete. I could have written 40 novels in that time, great novels, entertaining books. I sacrificed a lot to get this far. In a few days, my pain will be over (my VILE mother’s installed pain) and I’ll begin writing my brilliant, entertaining novel.

I have learned a lot from other men who did some things right but mostly fumbled around. The world is a soft-ass, candy-ass weak place. Smart men believe in religion because they don’t have the balls to stand up for themselves and live their own lives. They need a support system in their own minds to keep going from day-to-day. Brains are more common by far than inner toughness. And almost every genius has his grave flaws that limit him. Up until me, no one has been well-rounded in his high intelligence and imagination. I am the first.

I am going to be massively successful. My blog hasn’t been popular, despite my driven efforts to advertise for it on the street and in the comments section of other sites and my attempts to find new blogs to befriend and get commenting on my site. I have put a lot of effort into my blog, and seen very little payoff. Blogs are a timesink and a morale-crusher. You’re better off working toward a professional career in books and forgetting the internet.

The only thing good about blogs is that if you get a few commenters, you can get reactions to your experimental stories. Nothing else. I have benefited from some readers falling in a trance at some of the short stuff I’ve written. The problem is most of the commenters are too smart and don’t match the target demographic I’m aiming for. I want drooling imbeciles. I want functional illiterates. I want TV watchers and porn masturbators. Those who start their own blog are driven and smart, and usually they have the smallest audiences.

I think of Heartiste. It took him nearly a decade of polished, flawless, amusing writing on a super-popular topic (getting sex) before he amassed a decent-sized blog audience. I’m not writing on a super-popular topic like that, I’m pursuing a variety of interests in an attempt to amuse myself and get to be a better writer. I could duplicate his success and exceed it if I was willing to narrow myself down to sex and write exclusively on it.

Heartiste wasted his time. But he had no choice, in a way. The pussies who run the media outlets would never have published his forbidden thoughts. He wrote about seduction from an elite standpoint that horny internet losers could relate to, but his elitism and his controversial opinions about women (which were all true and proven) would have offended and disturbed the pussy-man who works for the media, and bothered women themselves, who are a rising force in all endeavors, more and more as each year passes.

There are some things you can’t say. You can’t talk about “vampires” and the “number 3.” You can’t talk about vampires and aliens. You can’t talk about racial preferences. Most things are open for discussion, but the best, most interesting things are off-limits by small minds aping retarded social traditions.

Heartiste was smarter than Stephen King, more interesting than James Patterson. And he got banned from WordPress, and during his time “on the air” had to rely on a DONATE button that almost never got pressed. Heartiste was screwed. He was entertaining, but not commercial. His die-hard blog fans amounted to a drop in the bucket compared to the mass audiences waiting out there.

Men should do what makes sense. They should adapt to the realities of the world, or, if they can, bend and break the world and re-shape it. Hitler attempted to bend and break the world. He did bend and break and re-shape Germany. He tried to extend this to other nations. He failed because of his mental limitations. He was a Great Man, operating out of his depth.

Stephen King wants to be considered a literary author. He is not a Great Man, but he is certainly operating out of his depth. Men are not versatile, by and large. It is hard to master two or more things. A literary writer can’t write commercial, and a commercial writer can’t write literary. Shakespeare was the exception. He lived in a unique age. The people who went to see his plays were the intelligent of London, and there were no other entertainment options. They wanted to see blood and guts and crude humor, and he provided that, but they were mentally and culturally equipped to accept and enjoy high poetry as well. Shakespeare straddled the line between entertainer and enlightener, an incredibly rare feat that was successful (although just barely). Today, high school students can’t relate to his antiquated English and obsolete primitive culture. He isn’t a true immortal because he’s timebound, despite claims to the contrary. But in his context, he could write entertainment and edification alike, unlike Stephen King, James Patterson, and all the rest.

It takes a certain kind of mind to be super-successful, and I should know, because I’ve got it. You’ve got to be cutting edge. You’ve got to be easily bored. You’ve got to be cool and hip. You’ve got to be ruthless and basically not a very good person. The half-successful writers of today and the past have these traits in some measure, but not enough. They’re geeky losers, by and large, the best of a bad lot.

I am killing time. Who’s going to read this article and understand it? In many ways, it’s a total waste of time and energy. But like I say, I’m just killing time. Soon I’ll begin moving. And I’ll move fast and dominantly, both intellectually and in more practical ways.