The Incel in the room

"Very good Nadine, you did an excellent job with this presentation.” Ms. Goldstein spoke over the sound of many snapping fingers. “I hope you all made notes, the pink-tax will be an important part of the exam.”  

 

Nadine smile, disconnected her flash drive from the projector and returned to her seat, followed by the approving look of Ms. Goldstein. “I know it has been a long day and you had to absorb a lot of important information.  But we have on last presentation to go through.” She looked at the list on her smartphone, trying to decipher the name of the last presenter.

 

“Ra…Reyansh, if you would.” Her eyes searched the classroom for the only Indian student. She had to move her head a lot since the thick rims of her glasses inhibited much of her peripheral vision. Finally she noted the movement of a small brown figure at the back of the room. “Please hurry, the class is almost over.” She said while she beckoned him with her sausage fingers.  “Yea, some of us have things to do” Nadine spoke half loud, causing a sinker here and there.

 

While Reyansh moved to the front, Ms. Goldstein announced the next topic: “I saved this subject for last because it is very serious. A cult of online misogynists, who call themselves Incels have become a serious threat to the safety of women. It is very important, not only for the exam, that you learn how to recognise them before they can cause any harm. So please pay attention everyone.”

 

Unlike Nadine, Reyansh took his entire notebook bag to the front of the room, were he retrieved his MacBook and connected it to the projector with slightly trembling fingers. “You could just have put your PowerPoint on a flash drive, you know?”

 

“I-I’m sorry, but i-it is necessary for the presentation.” Reyansh stammered, speaking already more than he head during the whole semester. Ms. Goldstein raised an eyebrow up to her pink hair but said nothing. When everything was set up he turned his acne scared face to the class and began his presentation, occasionally changing the slides as he spoke.

 

At first, he showed and said nothing about Incels that could not be googled within five minutes, only the usual points:

 

-“the word means involuntary celibate and was created by a woman”

-“Incels think women owe them sex”

-“They are terrorists who are responsible for at last 40 fatalities”

 

By now he was visibly sweating.

 

-“they are white supremacists and Trump supporters”

-“what is Chad/Stacy/Blackpill?”

-“they are paedophiles”

-“they are cowards”

 

He was starting to get pale.

 

-“they have impossible standards for women”

-“they have bad hygiene”

-“crab bucket”

 

His stammering became almost incomprehensible.

 

-“bad personality”

 

Then it became interesting. The next slide was titled “Incel Propaganda”. It showed several pictures of diagrams, faces and texts. Reyansh let the students look at the slide for a few seconds, using the time to collect himself somewhat. Then he explained: “T-the Incel cult draws in new m-members by spreading certain facts a-about human nature.”

 

“Facts?” Ms. Goldstein inquired.

 

“Y-yes, please allow me to demonstrate.”

 

Without waiting for an answer, Reyansh returned to his notebook bag and shoved both hands inside. After some fumbling he retrieved a staple of papers. He gave it to the nearest student and asked her to take a sheet and give the rest to her neighbour. She hesitated a little, disgust written on her face. Before Ms. Goldstein had to intervene, she did as she was asked, and then rubbed her fingers in a cleaning motion.

 

The sheets spread around the class. They contained even more propaganda- pictures, coloured and in high resolution. There were face-to-face comparisons, one as objectively ugly the other was attractive. Twitter comments with countless likes about height-requirements. Sourced Studies about dating preferences from renowned universities. And lots of memes that resonated uncomfortably.  

 

Reyansh  explained: “W-With such material, I-Incels convince ugly men that they h-have no chance with women, and that l-life and society is unfair, b-because of nature and because of feminism.”

 

“Well, thought luck, life is not fair.” One student said.

“Everyone got his cards.” Another added.

“No one is entitled to anything.” The first one finished.

 

“I see…” Reyansh said, mostly to himself.

 

“Lol, this one looks like you!” Nadine suddenly exclaimed. Everyone turned to her. She held one of the sheets aloft, displaying a short Indian man with thick eyebrows.

 

Someone said: “Good presentation, you brought a real Incel to class.” causing massive laughter. 

 

This time Ms. Goldstein hat to intervene: “Please be quite, we are almost done, ok.” When the laughter had died down Reyansh, now calm and collected, went to his MacBook and displayed the last page of his presentation.

 

It had no title, instead it displayed “How to recognise an Incel.” in thick black letters on white background.

 

“I wanted to show you some signs that people who are in danger of becoming an Incel might show.” Reyansh said, clearly and with almost no stuttering. “So maybe, if you see someone like this, you could ask him how he feels.”

 

He moved to his bag.

 

“Tell him that he is not alone.”

 

He shoved his hands in.

 

“Or at least leave him alone.”

 

He began to fumble again.

 

“But I see that this is not necessary.”

 

More fumbling.

 

“You already know perfectly well, how to spot an Incel.”

 

Click-Click.