>>513241533 (OP)
Chudders really thought “clean your room” was a path to salvation.
They never understood it was a setup from the start. Cleaning your desk is achievable. It gives a sense of order, control, a little win. But the room? That’s the whole world. It’s infinite regression: once you think it’s clean, you notice the dust behind the radiator, the wires under the bed, the junk drawer you’ll never conquer.
And when the impossible task crushes you long enough, you stop aspiring to change. You retreat, rationalize, tell yourself the trash heap is a kind of freedom.
Peterson himself was the clincher. The benzo addiction, the photos of his own chaotic desk, the hideous carpet, the clownish suits. That wasn’t hypocrisy. It was demonstration. If even the master can’t live up to "clean your room", then the standard was never attainable in the first place.
That’s how the psyop advanced to stage two. As Peterson crumbled, the disciples were conditioned for the next figure: Asmongold. Not a rejection, but the logical continuation: authenticity through squalor. The digital Diogenes, surrounded by cans, becomes not shameful but aspirational.
"Clean your room" was never about cleanliness. It was about breaking you down until you accepted Asmongoldness as the only honest way of being.