Principia Discordia > Or Kill Me



Another piece that felt like a poor fit for There Are Dreadful Things, but which is related.

Unperson, v.:
1. (transitive) To strip (a human being) of rights, identity or humanity.


I have been asked before about what it means when I say I'm "not a person," or "don't person me".

I will explain.

I have been destroyed, inch by inch. They broke my fingers, stole my names, made all I do Bad, even when it's good, because I did it.

They said I was an animal, a monster, a deviant and a liar. When I tell the truth, it's not to be trusted. Everything I do has ulterior motives.

I've been accused of crimes simple and grand. Of actions realistic and fanciful. In the minds of others I have been a groomer (because of being trans), a cult leader (because of my interest in hypnosis), a killer (because why else would I bask in violent language?).

After so much wear and stress, any material will break. Metal fatigue claims the stoutest of steel beams, in time. Such destruction has a well-defined pathway. First, the material to be broken grows denser, more rigid, work-hardened under the blows. As it grows harder, it becomes increasingly brittle. Eventually, it simply breaks.

The fracture may take many forms. Mine was sharp and jagged.

I cast off the human-names I had been trying to wear. They marked me as trying to belong. I didn't want to belong anymore. I chose a more fitting name, a name that is a warning.

I abandoned the camouflage, the clothing of Ordinary People, and sought a different sort of uniform. I began to wear warning flags, the trappings of the antagonist.

I stopped trying to claw back what they stole from me, and focused instead on building something they wouldn't dare touch.

I abandoned the language of Humanity. I began to demand unpersoning.


"Recognize what I am," I was trying to say. "I am not like you. I am a makeshift weapon in the hands of the Great Adversary. We have nothing in common. There is no kinship here. You took that."

Now when they come for me, there are no weak points left. If they humanize me, they weaken their hands. If they dehumanize me, they further harden my scales. There are no attack vectors that remain. The I that was is long gone. There is now only this enemy.

I am not a person. They took that from me. I am something else, now. Something terrible, because that's all that they left to me. Something they cannot understand.

To strip (a human being) of rights, identity or humanity.

Rights? What court would ever protect us?

Identity? That is not theirs to give or take.

Humanity? Hm.

It's a hard read, what has been done to you and what you've chosen to do in turn.

But I understand why you've made those choices. There is power in casting away something they presume you value.

In the end, perhaps I am romantic for thinking that I have the choice to cast myself as the slayer in this. The winner is the one who writes the history, after all, and I have no doubt they see me as much a monster as you.

Doktor Howl:
This is exactly the epiphany that inspired "I WILL KILL A MOTHERFUCKER".

I'm not sure when it happened, for me. I made the name change in Feb '21, but in hindsight the signs were there for awhile. Less like I had an epiphany and more like I gave myself permission. Either way, it happened. And yeah, it's definitely the kind of realization that leaves you with the warmth and genial smile of a claw hammer in a chest freezer.


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