I would continue the last article with several stories, of the kind that never happened and yet keeps happening daily.

Story one. “Friends” hanging out, slightly drunk, telling embarrassing stories about each other in front of third parties. “Remember how he was simping over that slut like a damn idiot, it was terrible, he was buying her flowers and writing her love letters like a total beta NPC. She was stringing him along for months while sucking off Chad and Tyrone, and we all knew it but we didn’t tell him because it was funny to see him make a fool of himself in front of everybody”.

Story two. Heroic warriors hanging out, slightly drunk, telling stories about each other’s adventures. “Remember how we barged into a jungle where a gang of armed robbers were camping, while we were just hanging out aimlessly. They jumped us, and he just instantly snapped into warrior mode, took out his weapon and started weeding them out like they’re nothing, and they were seriously hardened bastards and murderers. It was so awesome to look at, I’m getting chills now remembering how much he kicked their ass.” “He’s not telling it right”, the other hero answered. “It’s true that I came at them hard as they jumped us, but I had tunnel vision and didn’t survey the environment properly, and missed three bastards hiding in the foliage, and he saw them aiming at me behind my back and took their heads off before I figured out what’s going on. I owe him big time, he was so much tactically smarter than me that day, that it wouldn’t have been a victory if not for him. I’d have kicked ass until I got killed, but thanks to my buddy, it all looked easy instead of it being my funeral”.

Story three. “Guys, I have to tell you something embarrassing about Joe.” (everybody giggles, Joe thinks “here goes…”). “When we were camped out near Kandahar, the dumbass commander had the camp placed in the valley between two hills and stationed guards at the entrances of the cauldron. Of course, the Taliban crawled down the hills quietly during the night, ended up right in the middle of our encampment and started shooting at the tents and throwing hand grenades. We were all running around like headless chickens trying to figure out what the fuck is going on, and Joe was in his underwear, balls hanging out, grabbing a heavy machine gun and starting to spray the motherfuckers with heavy metal. He got five of them good, to the point where the rest started losing their shit and the rest of us sleepy bastards managed to wake up enough to join him in kicking their ass. He looked like a fucking god of war or something, nuts out, peppering the hostiles with vengeance; I wouldn’t be too surprised if he zapped them with lightning from his eyes or some shit, that’s how awesome he was. He saved our butts, and the idiot commander later reprimanded him for facing the enemy in improper uniform. Can you believe this shit?”

Story four. Women hanging out and complaining about their husbands, trying to make themselves important by criticising and belittling them. The last one feels uncomfortable by the whole atmosphere where women try to impress others with how cool they are and how stupid, weak and boring their husbands are. Eventually, she decides to speak: “I am very sorry that all of you seem to feel the need to belittle your marriages and yourselves in this manner, and I wish to have no part in this. My husband is smart, focused, good and I keep thanking God every day for letting me find him. Everything is so much better when he’s around and if I had to complain about something, it would be that people outside the family don’t know enough of what a wonderful person he is”. Then the rest of them start making faces and snorting with contempt, and she takes a good look at them, excuses herself and leaves, making a mental note to avoid bad company in the future. She comes home, the husband asks how it went, and she shivers and says “may dear God save me from ‘friends’”. She tells the husband the details and he makes her popcorn and cocoa before bed, while the crazy harpies proceed to plan how to cheat on their husbands and destroy their families.

So, you see, there are multiple ways of hanging out with friends over a beer and sharing stories. There’s a whole art of narrating something in a funny way so that you extol someone’s virtue, or pretend to make slight fun of them while in fact praising them for being awesome, elevating them in front of others. Or, you can tear someone down and create resentment, discord, pain and humiliation, while pretending it’s humour. Also, it takes some virtue to see that something is developing in a nasty direction and either counter the bad narrative or just remove yourself from the situation completely. Basically, weak people seldom have the courage to counter a popular but evil narrative from their “friends”, and to rather leave the company altogether than to continue participating in it and destroy their lives.