Minimally-skilled idiots: the margins of human usefulness and survival

It all started when some public workers were mowing some loose twigs and grass. It was 7 o'clock in the morning, a day before the 15th (which is like a bank holiday in Greece). Anyway, more than half of the city was relaxing due to summer vacation, but… nope. The guys had to do that at that specific time and day, yelling at each other, with all the noise lasting for about an hour, ruining the sleep of those lucky enough to have a day to relax and sleep a little more for once. It was then that it hit me.

Noticing how everyday people work today made me come up with the term minimally-skilled idiots, or MSI for short. The MSIs of the world are the ones who allow us to live. If they didn’t want to, we would all be dead. Let me explain the notion.

There are many skills that a human may have. Skills that I admire and fully wish to master at some point in my life. Speaking many languages, cooking, fishing, etc. I’ll take, for example, that guy who can shape balloons into animals—say, a dog. I marvel at that skill and I think that this guy is doing something amazing. It may be simple to him, but to me, this is something hard. I respect that guy.

Although the balloon guy has mastered that skill, there are some other skills relative to his job that he has no idea about. The skill to create a balloon, to analyze its material, to change its color, to learn the chemistry of how and why a balloon floats in the air, and so on. Most importantly, the skill that makes his skill actually meaningful: to sell the balloon. He only knows how to shape a balloon into some kind of animal. That’s all.

Think about it: most people don’t acquire new skills. They just suffice with what’s minimally needed of them in their daily jobs. Nothing more. They are paid for one thing, they do that thing they are paid for. If their job is to transfer an object from place A to place B, then that’s all. As if knowing something more—having another skill as well—is forbidden. It’s something too troublesome to bear. Because they think that a) a tough thing to do is only worthy if you’re paid for it, and b) everything else outside your job is just a waste of time and energy.

Now, why are the MSIs imperative for our survival? Take, for example, the taxi driver. He has one skill, the minimally-needed skill for this job: to drive. Say, my car meets his car at a crossroad and he doesn’t stop at the stop sign, and he crashes into me and kills me. What do we have now? A minimally-skilled person, who obviously is an idiot given that he didn’t stop at the stop sign, and who also is a killer.

If you look at it in reverse, you conclude that the only reason some of us live right now is because we haven’t experienced the full lethal potential of an MSI. That bus you take to go to work, that construction worker on the scaffolding beneath whom you pass by, that meal you had in that restaurant… The instances are immense. There can always and everywhere be an MSI that could potentially terminate your living on our sweet planet Earth. Isn’t that alarming?

Most of all, the politicians, the mirror of our society. They couldn’t be deeper into the MSI category. In fact, contrary to many common workers who at least have one skill, I honestly believe that there are politicians who have NO skill at all.

To sum up, these people who woke me up on the 14th of August didn’t even have the soft skills. To learn how to talk and communicate what you do among the people around you. Is it such a hard skill to practice? Especially soft skills—they are so useful in so many areas apart from your professional life. It’s a pity not to have them, really.

So, this is my advice to you: beware of the MSIs. They’re everywhere, and they’re coming to you. Respect them, protect yourselves against them, and never forget that you owe your living to them.

Introducing ''The Phallocrat’s Manifesto'': new book is loud, blunt, and probably illegal in Canada

 Yep. I did the thing.

I wrote a book. It’s called The Phallocrat’s Manifesto. And no, it’s not a joke. Well—it is, but not only a joke. It’s also a rant, a mirror, a Molotov cocktail, and a deeply unwise decision to say exactly what I think.

Let me be clear: this is not your standard self-help book or philosophical treatise. This is me, unleashed, uncensored, and unmedicated. It's the kind of book I’d want to read if I were tired of everyone walking on eggshells while the world burns.

I didn’t write it to be liked. I wrote it because I had to. Because the cultural conversation has gotten so cartoonishly dumb that someone needed to step up and say, “Wait, are we all just pretending this makes sense?”

What’s It About?

The Phallocrat’s Manifesto is a satire. Or maybe it’s a diagnosis. Maybe it’s a love letter to reason. Or maybe it’s an angry drunk screaming at the bar of civilization. Honestly, you tell me.

It takes aim at modern absurdities—from identity politics to corporate virtue-signaling, from limp ideologies to the kind of hypocrisy that’s so thick, you could bottle it and sell it as artisanal mayonnaise.

I’m poking bears. All of them. With a sharp stick. And I’m doing it with a smile.

Warning: May Offend Everyone (Equally)

If you’re looking for a safe space, this ain’t it.

This book doesn’t tiptoe. It marches in wearing steel-toed boots, slams its manifesto on the table, and dares you to read it without flinching.

But make no mistake—The Phallocrat’s Manifesto isn’t just a rant. It’s a smart, biting, often hilarious dissection of power, identity, and modern absurdity wrapped in deliciously reckless prose. It’s part satire, part philosophy, part comedy—and 100% unfiltered me.

Think Orwell and Bukowski had a child, raised it on South Park and Cioran, and let it loose with a laptop and zero regard for public decency.

Who’s It For?

If you’ve ever:

• Laughed at something you “weren’t supposed” to laugh at

• Wondered when common sense became hate speech

• Felt like society was being run by bots with anxiety

• Missed the days when being wrong wasn’t a criminal offense

...then yeah. This book is for you.

It’s also for people who like to think, like to argue, like to question, and—most of all—like to laugh at the madness of it all.

Why Did I Write It?

Because I’m tired of the noise.
Because I don’t believe in sacred cows.
Because I think laughter is the last honest act in a world built on marketing.
And because I’m a writer—which means I suffer from the delusion that words still matter.

What People Are Saying

Well… okay, no one’s technically reviewed it yet (it’s fresh off the digital press), but rest assured: if they did, they'd say something like:

"A brain-bending riot of insight and insanity. I threw my Kindle across the room, then picked it up and kept reading." – Imaginary Reviewer

"Offensive, brilliant, and hysterical. I haven't laughed this hard since I accidentally took my ex's edibles." – Someone in a coffee shop, probably

"Jim Athanas is either a genius or a madman. Either way, he’s not boring." – The author’s inner monologue

Final Thoughts (Before You Buy It. Which You Should.)

The Phallocrat’s Manifesto is not for the faint of heart, the easily offended, or those clinging too tightly to ideological purity. But if you like your books bold, funny, philosophical, politically incorrect, and a little dangerous—this is your next read.

Buy it, read it, argue with it, laugh at it, throw it across the room, pick it back up, and repeat.

👉 GET IT NOW ON AMAZON