Have you ever tried to play chess with a pigeon?
You can be the most brilliant strategist in the world, but it doesn’t matter. The pigeon will knock over the pieces, poop on the board, and then strut around like it won.
If that image feels painfully familiar, you understand the special madness of arguing with someone who has untethered themselves from reality. You lay out a perfect, logical case to expose their hypocrisy, expecting a checkmate.
Instead, you just get… poop on the board.
This isn’t an occasional frustration anymore; it’s the defining feature of modern discourse. And it’s time we admit that our favorite weapon—the “Gotcha!”—is a useless antique.
Translating from Righteous-Speak
The core issue is a language barrier. We think we’re speaking the language of facts and consistency. They are fluent in the language of righteousness, where the nobility of their cause makes all words flexible.
Here’s a quick translation guide:
- When you see a lie, they see strategic messaging necessary for the greater good.
- When you see flaming hypocrisy, they see pragmatic evolution in pursuit of a just cause.
- When you hear them ignore facts, they are resisting enemy propaganda from a hostile source.
They aren’t winking as they lie; they are evangelizing. They’ve built a narrative fortress around themselves where they are the perpetual heroes. You think you’re pointing out a crack in their logic. They think you’re a villain trying to tear down the castle. Shame is impossible because, in their story, they have nothing to be ashamed of.
Fun Tangent: The Backfire Blues
There’s a psychological gremlin called the Backfire Effect. It’s the phenomenon where, when people’s core beliefs are challenged with contradictory evidence, they often double down and believe even more strongly than before. Your perfectly crafted “gotcha” isn’t just bouncing off them; it might be acting as a booster shot for their certainty. You’re not just losing the game; you’re accidentally upgrading their player.
Stop Playing Pigeon Chess
So what do you do when your opponent is a proud, strutting pigeon?
You stop playing.
This isn’t about surrender. It’s about strategy. The moment you realize they have no intention of respecting the rules of the game—logic, consistency, honesty—is the moment you gain your power back. You can’t win their game, so you must refuse to play it.
Every second you spend trying to force a pigeon to acknowledge the rules of chess is a second you’re not spending on something that actually matters. Building your own board. Finding people who actually want to play. Creating something more compelling and true than the nonsense they’re selling.
So let them strut. Let them knock over the pieces.
Just walk away from the board. Your energy is better spent elsewhere.