Opinion – By Wyatt Remington Tater
May 1, 2025
You can shout down a man, but you cannot shout down the truth. Especially when the truth has a podcast.
I don’t agree with everything Jordan Peterson says.
I want to make that clear, because unlike certain people on this campus, I’m capable of hearing an opinion without immediately forming a human barricade around a building.
Last week, Dr. Peterson came to Baitman’s Institute to give a lecture about personal responsibility, meaning, and the importance of getting your own life in order before trying to reorganize society. Apparently this was considered dangerous enough that several hundred students showed up to make sure nobody could hear it.
I find that troubling.
Universities are supposed to be places where difficult ideas can be discussed. You don’t have to agree with Peterson. You can challenge him. You can ask questions. You can write a response. That’s what adults used to call “having a conversation.”
What you shouldn’t do is blow whistles every time somebody starts talking and then congratulate yourself for defeating fascism.
And yes, I saw him cry.
The campus left seems very proud of this.
Personally, I don’t think making a Canadian psychologist cry is the intellectual achievement Savannah Bloom thinks it is.
But I also think people misunderstood those tears.
Peterson wasn’t crying because he was defeated.
He was crying because he understood.
There is a moment, if you have actually read the literature instead of watching selectively edited clips, when Peterson’s message becomes considerably clearer. Clean your room. Stand up straight. Tell the truth. Accept responsibility.
These are not merely suggestions.
They are instructions.
I cleaned my room Thursday.
Actually cleaned it.
Under the bed. Behind the dresser. Everything.
That night, I slept better than I have in years.
Coincidence?
Maybe.
Friday morning I cleaned my truck.
Friday night, I organized my ammunition alphabetically by manufacturer and country of origin.
Saturday, I finally washed my ass properly.
Something changed.
There is an order beneath the disorder, and I am beginning to suspect Peterson has been trying to tell us about it for years.
Why else are his lectures so long?
Why twelve rules?
Why lobsters?
Nobody asks these questions.
I started going back through old interviews at half speed. There are patterns. References to hierarchy. Ancient structures. Chaos. Order. Dragons beneath the surface.
Beneath the surface.
Think about that.
Then think about Flounder’s Hall.
I’m not going to say anything else here because this newspaper is distributed electronically, and I have serious questions about where the campus Wi-Fi sends packets after 2:00 a.m.
Those who understand will understand.
Those who don’t should start by cleaning their rooms.
There are more of us than they realize. Baitsmen who remain undeterred. Unafraid.
Unvaccinated.
Men and women who still believe a lecture should be allowed to finish, a bedroom floor should remain visible, and the human perineum should receive regular soap and water.
We do not need whistles.
We do not need safe spaces.
We have responsibility.
We have meaning.
We have several folding chairs beneath Flounder’s Hall.
Tuesday.
11:40 p.m.
Come alone.
Clean your room.
Wash your ass.
We, the Petersonians, will prevail.
About the Editor: Wyatt Remington Tater
Column: Straight Shootin’ with Wyatt
Wyatt Remington Tater is a sophomore Agricultural Economics major from rural Arkansas. He’s president of Young Traditional Americans, refuses to take off his Trump hat (even indoors), and believes the university is pushing socialism through algebra.
When not quoting the Constitution mid-class, Wyatt enjoys grilling meats, defending liberty, and accusing campus Wi-Fi of being woke. His column, Straight Shootin’ with Wyatt, delivers unfiltered takes with zero nuance and 100% conviction.
Article Comment Section:
The Poly Post is a satirical faux student newspaper hosted by the Baitman’s Institute. It is not a real student newspaper, and none of the editors, authors, or articles featured here are based on real people or events.
All contributors are fictional, and their views exist solely to explore the absurdity of modern discourse. Any resemblance to real personalities is purely coincidental, or a sign that the internet has gone too far.
In a world full of rage bait, tribal algorithms, and Poe’s Law in action, the opinions of strangers shouldn’t ruin your day; especially ones that don’t actually exist.