#demystify

Demystify

Behind every mage is a trail of shattered lies.

Demystify

Demystify (Ixalan) - Igor Kieryluk

Let’s get one thing clear right out of the gate: engaging with the intellectually bankrupt isn't about convincing them. It’s not about changing the mind of the conspiracy nut, the QMAGA cultist, the religious zealot, or the Dunning-Kruger poster child who thinks they know more than any expert because they once watched a YouTube video. Most of these people are beyond reasoning. They've willingly turned off the critical thinking switch in their heads and committed to their insulated worldview. Trying to talk them out of it is like trying to teach a fish how to ride a bike—it’s pointless, exhausting, and ultimately a waste of time.

But here's the thing: I’m not talking to them. When I call out their bullshit, ridicule their arguments, and put the intellectual or academic effort into tearing down their fallacies, it's not for their benefit. They’re lost causes. It’s for the one person in the crowd—the bystander, the lurker, the person who hasn’t yet fully bought into the echo chamber of ignorance—who might be open to listening. That person? They’re worth the effort.

There's a popular conception that if you engage with these kinds of people, you should do so respectfully, patiently, and with empathy. Frankly, that’s nonsense. These ideologues don’t deserve respect because they have no respect for truth. They don't deserve empathy because their entire shtick is designed to perpetuate ignorance, division, and sometimes outright harm. When someone uses their platform to spread blatant lies or dangerous fallacies, they should be called out—and if it takes ridicule to do that, so be it.

Critics might say, "But you're not going to convince them if you're dismissive or rude." Guess what? I don’t give a damn. I’m not interested in convincing someone who thinks the Earth is flat, that vaccines are mind control devices, or that an invisible deity is pulling the strings of the universe. What I care about is the other people watching, the ones who are still on the fence. The ones who might be swayed if they see someone actually pushing back against the tide of misinformation. If one person out of a hundred sees my argument and it plants a seed of doubt in their mind about the nonsense they're being fed, that’s worth it.

This is about reaching them—the thinkers, the skeptics, the people who might not even realize they’re hungry for real information. Maybe they’ve been floating around in the middle, too timid or unsure to push back themselves, too lost in the noise to seek out better sources. When they see someone pushing back—whether with logic, mockery, or cold, hard facts—it might just give them the encouragement they need to look deeper.

We live in a time when people are retreating into ideological bubbles, only talking to people who agree with them. That’s dangerous. It allows bad ideas to fester, unchecked, and gives the impression that everyone is either an extremist or a coward. I'm not interested in talking only to my bubble. I want to break through the walls and let people outside see that there’s another way to think. That’s why I engage. That's why I argue. And when necessary, that's why I ridicule.

The problem with staying silent or pretending these people can be reasoned with is that it normalizes their nonsense. It gives the impression that their ideas are just one side of a "legitimate debate." Newsflash: they're not. When you engage with a creationist, you're not debating science versus religion. You're calling out blatant ignorance masquerading as intellect. When you respond to a QMAGA believer who claims Trump was sent by God, you’re not engaging in a political conversation. You’re confronting a cultist mindset. And when you take on a conspiracy theorist who thinks 5G is part of a global mind-control plot, you’re not discussing telecommunications technology; you're pointing out someone’s dangerous disconnection from reality.

So, why do I still bother? Because it matters. Even if 99 out of 100 people are unreachable, there’s always the chance that the one who’s left will see the truth. And that’s worth everything. We all have a responsibility not to just talk to our perceptive bubbles, but to provide others with the tools and information they need to see things for themselves. You don’t have to force anyone; you just have to be there to plant the seed.

The world doesn’t change because a few idiots get smarter—it changes when a silent majority sees that the idiots can and should be called out. When rational people stop being silent and start pushing back, others take notice. And maybe, just maybe, that leads to real change.

This is the goal—what should be everyone’s goal. Not to convince every lost cause, but to ensure that the people on the fence have a clear view of both sides. And to make damn sure they know which side is built on reason, evidence, and truth.

Demystify

From the beginning of time, we have spoken of how science demystifies the world, about how it takes away all the magic that exists. We have complained of how science takes away the wonder and the awe towards what is.

But does it really? Or are we simply reading it wrong?