It is my understanding that neither cowards nor liars are allowed into Valhalla, the Viking afterlife. But maybe a few sneak in from time to time?
So imagine superstar podcaster Joe Rogan elbowing his way into Valhöll, the Hall of the Slain, where the greatest Norse warriors spend eternity battling one another in the fields by day, followed by feasting, drinking, and boasting of their heroic deeds at night. These are stories that will be remembered forever.
First, Thorstein raises a goblet of mead and speaks of bravery and sacrifice. He gave his life so that his brothers could live to fight another day. Next comes Sigurd’s famous tale of how he killed the dragon Fafnir.
Then Rogan stands — grinning like an open zipper — and declares, “I made the slur ‘retard’ popular again!”
In this fantasy, Rogan’s pronouncement is met with silence, for he is unserious and vain, a party crasher, and is clobbered by Sven back to the mortal realm, where he currently makes something like sixty million dollars a year at Spotify. Rogan is wealthy and powerful, but no hero, at least not by any traditional standard, no matter what he thinks.
And he thinks he’s a living legend because he says naughty words that hurt feelings. Huzzah.
During a recent episode of his hit podcast, Joe Rogan dropped the R-word and declared that it’s back — a “great cultural victory.” I shrugged at his giddy claim, then reluctantly proceeded to listen to a comedian with intellectual aspirations bicker with a prickly, war-horny historian about Nazis and current events for almost three hours. It sounded like a high school debate between angry virgins who hate their mothers, and the podcast passed through me like Pepto-Bismol.
But I kept returning to the pride in Rogan’s voice about his “cultural victory,” as if he were a conquering general recounting a fabled campaign, or an immortal Viking spinning a valiant myth.
He was impressed by his own splendid influence, and many joined him. I did not. I don't influence anyone, which is probably for the best.
A former comedian and UFC commentator, Joe Rogan is one of the leaders of the so-called “manosphere,” which is not another word for testicle but a loose network of podcasts and websites that have a jolly time verbally masturbating each other. What Rogan says is gospel to millions of men, and he consistently does them a disservice every time he chuckles something mind-bendingly stupid, like “the moon landings were fake” or “RFK Jr. has a point.”
He further wounds American masculinity by allowing his followers to believe the use of the R-word is some brilliant win for dudes, a gargantuan display of virility, or something. Yeah, yeah, “he’s joking.” “I’m joking” is what a playground bully cries when punched in the nose.
I debated writing the R-word out. I concluded it was a no-win scenario: don’t spell out the R-word, and I’d be mercilessly accused of being woke; do it, and receive a scolding in the comments, so I chose the latter. Have at me.
It is a nasty little insult, a dullard’s way to question another’s intelligence, that demeans people born different every time it’s used… and it’s being used gratuitously at this very moment. It’s the fashionable thing to do if your only social connections are online, which is one step down from having imaginary friends.
The word is vile, but it must not be forgotten. Keep it under glass, I say, like some virulent pathogen that should be studied.
I grew up during a more chaotic time, back before the world became a vast network connecting millions of cameras and microphones. Near the end of the last century, it was easier to say thoughtless things and get away with it.
I would frequently use the R-word, and its companion, the F-word — a homophobic jab — because little boys were allowed to mock ideas and people that scared or challenged us. Society thought it made boys tough when, in fact, it fostered a hidden weakness inside each of us, a small fissure in our self-esteem that cracked wide open years later when a happy majority on the internet decided the casual use of the R-word was dated and needlessly mean.
It’s not like there’s a law that says you can’t say the R-word, but you can choose not to post or say it out loud. The English lexicon is vast, and there are so many other ways to call someone an imbecile. And if you do choose to use the R-word, though, maybe don’t be surprised when you’re not cheered?
I take that back: you’ll be applauded by chuds, but there will be people out there, people who live in reality, who fight for their loved ones, who show up for their friends, people who can be counted on, who will wonder how you became such an insecure little loser.
I used both those slurs growing up, despite knowing my mom worked with special needs kids, who were some of the sweetest, most genuine humans I’ve ever met. I knew better, even though one of my closest friends had come out of the closet during the dark days of the late ’80s.
And it’s not just Rogan who proudly uses the R-word, either. Billionaire defense contractor Elon Musk and his lackeys throw it around on X, formerly Twitter, which he bought and ruined. Imagine a local fatcat buying the coolest, rowdiest dive bar in town, and then turning it into an Applebee’s that’s friendly to Nazis. Musk is the kind of grown man who giggles at derogatory insults, and one must never trust grown men who giggle at derogatory insults.
Even President Trump is alleged to have used the R-word when referring to Kamala Harris during a donor dinner last October, before the election.
These men offer other men a world drained of imagination and courage — a meager existence where shit-talking strangers online is celebrated as an actual accomplishment. To be a man in Rogan and Musk’s digital wonderland is to confuse posting invectives with valor, and this delirium has proved compelling.
And why not? It feels good to taunt your enemy from behind an iPhone screen, and most of all, it’s safe. What a deal: a bump of adrenaline from the security of a Barcalounger.
The rise of the R-word slur worries disability advocates who rightly fear its comeback will result in the spread of prejudice towards people with disabilities. Their concern is justified.
I think it sucks because it is, for lack of a spicier word, boring. Dropping the R-word must feel like freedom to those inconvenienced by empathy, and that’s just a boring way to live. A man’s life should be an epic poem, not a foul little fart.
I sometimes fear that this country — my country — has squandered its wealth and power and produced a generation of men who would not give some, or all, but nothing to anyone except themselves. I worry that we’ve become a nation of weasels easily amused by public feats of inhumanity.
When it comes to resurrecting the R-word, I’ve never seen so much time and effort put into such a pointless pursuit. So much energy, wasted. For what? Clicks?
Joe Rogan and his millions of listeners have poured their resources into one massive project, as if it were a historic mission. The goal was to revive the R-word, and they succeeded.
What a splendid victory, my dudes. A watershed event in the history of Western Civilization. Your ancestors built this great nation with their sweat and toil so that you may one day laugh at someone with a learning disability and pat yourself on the back. What a mighty legacy — being a dickbag.
The use of the R-word and other offensive epithets isn’t some free speech triumph; it’s a simple rhetorical tactic used by right-wing media personalities and powerful politicians to disrupt debates and trigger the libs with smears and unkind putdowns at all costs.
This maneuver works best online, and it seems pretty successful, which is why sniveling Trump-worshippers and bots alike drop the R-word incessantly, especially on social media platforms.
I am a staunch believer in freedom of speech. I don’t support coercing people into adopting or rejecting language that offends a marginalized minority. I’m also a big fan of the adage, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.”
I do not expect the Little Rogans and Musklings to honor my rights to say what I want. Another of the more annoying tools in their toolkit is moral duplicity — they want to enjoy rights while denying them to their opponents, even if those opponents are their neighbors, family members, or just someone trying to live their life.
This puts someone like me at a disadvantage, of course. The First Amendment is for everyone, even trolls, who delight in frustrating anyone with a clear sense of right and wrong.
So use the R-word if you want, but be honest with yourself: your love of the R-word comes from a sad, dark hole inside of you, and at the bottom of that hole sits your eternal soul, Gollum-like, a naked, hairless creature whose deeds and words will never be remembered.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of John DeVore's work on Medium.