Re: "But there is an art to giving criticism when the goal is to make someone change their ways, goals, ideals, methods ,etc.. An art that I am NOT a master in, but also an art that he miserably fails at."
You've made a solid effort at expressing what your fantasies about me were —and what your delusions about me still are. The problem is that you express yourself so much better than the other denizens of this Reddit group that it isn't immediately obvious that these are just spurious fantasies and delusions on your part.
Do you think Future of an Illusion is an example of "an art" that I have "failed miserably" at?
Do you think that I was inept in my critique of compassion? Do you suppose I was trying to be charming and affable (in a conformist sort of way) but then —oops!— I just stumbled and ended up writing this shockingly nihilistic philosophy that overturns everything my contemporaries want to believe in?
Do you think that I'm trying to be endearing to these people when I condemn them as tantamount to Neo-Nazis, for example?
The scarf of a revolutionary wrapped around the neck of a bureaucrat: was this my poetic attempt to make friends with Earthling Ed, but I was just "lacking the social skills" necessary to successfully seduce him?
Imagine how absurd it would be to criticize Max Stirner for failing to produce a philosophy that is carefully footnoted and reasoned through like A.N. Whitehead. You really could impose your own set of fantasies and delusions onto Stirner to then regard him as "a failure" because you imagine that he yearned to be something similar to A.N. Whitehead —but then failed due to "his social skills".
Yes, indeed, the whole jarring, nihilistic tone of Stirner's philosophy must be a sort of accident due to lack of social skills. He'd sound much more like Immanuel Kant if only he could: he must have had some sort of bizarre psychological disorder that was holding him back.
Do you see the mistake you're making here?
You are treating your own fantasies as if they were my objectives and intentions, and then you're misinterpreting what I actually did as if I had been stumbling precisely when I soared. I'm a master of "an art" —it just isn't yours.
Max Stirner was living his dream: you're guilty of the grossest kind of psychological projection if you insist that his work was a failure, simply because it doesn't resemble some other philosophy —especially given that this other philosophy is not one that he's imitating, it is instead one that he despises.
Veganism: Future of an Illusion is the book I wanted to write. It is my dream come true.
There is absolutely nothing about that book I would want to improve on in any way.
A small number of extremely brilliant people will appreciate it. Just like Max Stirner.
A large number of extremely stupid people will continue to pretend that they have tremendous intellectual respect for Peter Singer.
I do not live my life wishing that I had been the vegan equivalent to A.N. Whitehead or Immanuel Kant.
We can talk through a sort of surreal (hypothetical) scenario in which I disciplined myself to be utterly phony and play the sort of position that Sky is still playing within PETA, clamoring for my chance to hobnob with Joey Carbstrong at champagne and dairy-free-cheese fundraisers. Perhaps that's what would have made you happy, if you had been in my position, but that isn't what I wanted to do with my life. Not at all.
Re: "He should have spend time reading books or papers on how to give highly-receptive criticism; on how to have healthy and productive disagreements."
Is that what you've done? Is that what you've done with your own life?
Let's pretend that you have. What if I were to suggest to you, instead, that you should study the art of making extremely jarring and unforgettable statements that upset people's philosophical and political presuppositions? What if I were to tell you, after you and I had lived by our respective methodologies for quite some time, that you've evidently accomplished nothing at all with your attempts to be so affable, with your "healthy and productive disagreements", whereas I'm really quite satisfied that I've "left a mark" with this (more theatrical) methodology of mine.
What if my series of experiments with à-bas-le-ciel are worth more than another thousand imitators of Joey Carbstrong, carrying out another thousand sidewalk interviews? Or another thousand imitators of Wayne Hsiung holding up a thousand placards, and so on? Whitehead and Kant had many forgettable imitators.
Stirner was the best at doing something only he could do —and that was not imitating Professor Whitehead. I was the best at doing something only I could do. And at that I succeeded.
