Arguing With The Idiot

How challenging it is to argue with the idiot—

The idiot who believes he is enlightened,

Who clings to incoherent rants and conspiracy theories devoid of merit,

Yet speaks with the confidence of the informed.

You present logic. You bring facts.

But to the idiot, your reasoning is nothing more than propaganda—

A false narrative too foreign for his fractured worldview.

And to you, his worldview is a carnival of contradiction, a rejection of reason itself.

You stare in a mix of awe and disgust.

How does one reject science?

How does one deny centuries of collective knowledge

And still claim the title of "thinker"?

He does not stand alone.

He feeds off slander,

Off the approval of the like-minded herd

That mistakes volume for truth and outrage for insight.

Still, I remain hopeful.

Hopeful that time humbles the ignorant.

Hopeful that history, unforgiving as it is,

Exposes the lies they clung to as gospel.

But what becomes of the argument

When dialogue is a standstill?

How can we grow if we cannot learn from one another?

Where have empathy, right speech, and tolerance gone?

You cannot convince the idiot he is wrong.

And you cannot convince him that you are not the idiot.

It is a philosophical conundrum,

A hall of mirrors in the theater of delusion.

And perhaps, this is the greatest tragedy of being human:

To be so sure, and yet so blind