Cocaine, Meth, White Nationalism And Wall Street

Is a straw up your nose the unspoken “white man’s burden” among Nazis?

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Photo by Colin Davis on Unsplash

So, recently I came across a TikTok where a user was discussing how frequently so many GOP elites seemed to be a bit off their rocker, twacked out with drugs. In no place was this more painfully obvious than at the Inauguration of the Cheeto in Chief.

Nazi gestures aside, Elon Musk made other smaller headlines for showing up to the inauguration, lolling his neck and rolling his eyes. Bezos wasn’t looking too sharp either; the dude looked like my friend after a three-day meth binge.

Of course, Trump’s immediate family are fairly well-known for their love of white powders as well. Donald Junior was known for looking yakked out of his mind during press conferences, as was his brother Eric Trump.

Hell, Carrie Fisher even said Donnie does it after watching him “sniffle” through a debate. I honestly doubt this because, really, how much can that old man’s ticker take!? If he’s still sniffing yak in his 70s, I almost have to give him a weird slice of junkie respect.

But I digress.

Watching her video continue, she mentions how there is a tie to stimulant use and white nationalism. And honestly? I think she’s got a lot of the photo — but I might have one last element that really ties it all together.

Let’s start with my own journey into cocaine addiction.

Believe it or not, my first drug of choice was not cocaine. It was Ecstasy. Specifically, I was a huge fan of MDMA cut with Percocets and heroin. Sometimes, I’d also take ones sliced with Adderall or hit a wet cigarette to get a better rise.

Ecstacy, before I started having my rage reactions to it, was the drug that would have likely killed me. I was doing it two to four times a week, and I honestly think that might be one of the reasons I can’t see color very well anymore.

Ecstacy gave me empathy and the ability to not feel rage, but it also killed my ambition. Even after I kicked the habit (which was emotional agony, mind you), I never quite got that level of cutthroat ambition I once had back.

My use was a major reason why I quit school. While I was in the rave scene, people would offer me cocaine. It was a way to (hopefully) get me in the mood to party or get me focused enough to do something useful.

The first time I tried it, my body didn’t like it. I sneezed it out, convulsing so hard that my then-boyfriend saw my head hit the platter, knocking about $500 of powder onto the world’s grimiest warehouse floor.

All things considered, I’m not the person people expected to be a poster child of coke addiction.

That all changed when I worked a job alongside Wall Street types.

Have you ever worked around people in an ultra-high-pressure environment? I did. I was in a unique position where I had to work for someone who was notorious in Wall Street as a hardass boss.

If he said jump, you don’t ask any question except, “How high?”

If he asked you a question, you better damn know the answer, or else.

If he didn’t like you, you’ll be out before lunch break, replaced by another bright-eyed, bushy-tailed new hire.

This was the type of dude who did not play around. If you wanted to keep your job, working 9 to 5 was not enough. You had to work until you were about to break. If he thought you were slacking, you’d be out without warning.

I needed the money. And I needed to keep this job. So I worked hard. And sometimes, working hard was not enough. After I married my husband, we often needed extra money just to make ends meet.

Cue our coke-slinging friends offering me bumps.

The coke became a major part of my writing arsenal. When I was on the stuff, I could literally churn out over a dozen blog posts without even sleeping — and they could pass with minor edits.

At one point, I accidentally gave away that I was on coke to my coworkers. It happened when a carton of rotten milk exploded at the office. I had snorted about two grams that night before and my nose was dead.

Everyone in the office was gagging from the smell of the rotten milk. I asked what everyone was retching about. They pointed to the rotten milk. I shrugged and said, “I don’t smell anything.”

Cue my coworker bursting into laughter, sending me a message saying, “You are coked out of your mind right now. You should see your pupils.”

I tried to play it off, but there was no way to hide it.

I was twackered outta my mind, grinding my teeth, rocking side to side, nose inflamed to all hell, and sweating while typing. If you ever saw a meth head on secretary duty, you might have an idea of what I looked like.

And what was interesting was that I wasn’t fired for it. There was a quiet understanding that “you look the other way” if people needed “performance-enhancing drugs.”

That was the only job that tacitly encouraged my drug use to the point where my own drug dealers and friends had to hold an intervention for me, not only about the cocaine but in an earnest effort to get me to quit my job.

Had I not been let go, I likely would never have been able to quit cocaine. I’m no longer a regular user and generally avoid it because of the person it was turning me into.

Did you ever notice how many white nationalists seem to have an issue with stimulants?

There’s a reason why people associate meth with white nationalism. Adolf Hitler himself was one of the first people to get on meth, often giving hours-long speeches as a result.

Back then, they called it Pervitin. It was used to help keep troops alive and capable of war for days on end. Interestingly enough, methamphetamine is still available for legal consumption today with a prescription.

But that’s not why uppers are always associated with white nationalists. It’s not just the Pervitin (erm, meth) that got people thinking that way. It’s the entire culture.

White nationalism is a movement all about being the super-soldier.

There’s something about white nationalism that tends to force its members into always trying to out-perform others. They’re always afraid of others, so they always have to be on guard.

They always put expectations on themselves that involve them doing the impossible. Among GOP leaders, this often means they expect themselves to constantly be working or schmoozing with donors — even when they should be sleeping.

White nationalists, while they may set high expectations of themselves and others, are deeply insecure. They know that they can’t compete on an even playing field, so their work is constantly focused on tipping those scales in their favor.

If you live in a white nationalist world, you’re always suspicious. And you’re always measuring up against some impossible-to-attain standard allocated to you by your gender, your socioeconomic background, and your looks.

The goalposts never stay still. They always change.

If you’re female, you have to be quiet and demure, but you can’t turn down men, but you have to turn down men; otherwise, you’re worthless. If you somehow manage to be a tradwife, people grill you on why you’re also not taking care of farm equipment while looking like a supermodel.

That’s old news, though. I don’t think people realize the grind is real for men, too.

If you’re male, you can’t show emotions, you always have to protect, and your only value is the paycheck you offer and the kids you help your wife shit out. If you can’t attract a spouse, don’t look like a typical “Chad,” or don’t want a wife, white nationalist culture says you’re defective.

If you’re a man, you kind of should play the field, but you can’t do that outside of marriage — even though you’re supposed to get married as young as possible. You can’t explore sexuality with your wife, because that somehow sullies her, but you should know exactly what to do without using porn.

Even if you meet the criteria as a man, you’re never left to just be you. You constantly have to keep chasing a more and more masculine ideal — and it is never enough. Both men and women born into this system are products. They’re only valued by the money they make, how good they look, and the offspring they have.

Don’t have kids or a spouse? Well, you’re a failure in the eyes of a white nationalist. So, you have to bend others to your will. It’s all about climbing the ladder of value in society while you push others down to secure your own position.

The entire system of conservatism is meant to grind both men and women to their breaking points, all while blaming others as “the competition.”

Working with Wall Street types requires you to be “on” 24/7.

It’s hard to explain to people what working alongside Wall Street types is if you’ve never experienced it. It’s beyond a pressure cooker. It’s a silent (and at times, screaming) demand for perfection, work, and grinding.

You can’t ever be seen breaking. You can’t cry from overwork or a lack of sleep. You work, work, work, and damnit, you better have numbers to back your work. You need to go above and beyond, all the time.

Otherwise? You’re worthless, and you’re out.

When you’re in that environment, your value becomes inextricably linked to what you produce. If you can’t make numbers go up on that chart, you’re worthless and will be kicked out without so much as a second thought.

Of course, you also can’t really just go home when you’re a finance person. There’s an entire culture of status symbol-chasing there. If you’re not out with your work friends, sugar babies in tow while wives await at home, are you even a Wall Streeter?

People in that environment judge you by how lavish your exploits are. If you can’t keep up, people assume it’s because you’re not working enough to afford it. And you know you’re replaceable. They let you know that.

So in reality, you never quite get to rest.

There’s a lot of overlap between white nationalist “ubermensch” culture with Wall Street’s culture.

They’re both cultures that tend to view people as inhuman robots where production is the only measure of value. They both tend to encourage people to be always on, always on the watch, and always reminded of how replaceable they are.

While white nationalists and Wall Streeters claim they’re meritocracies, they're really not. Neither culture really produces something that benefits humanity. If anything, they tend to compete on how hard they can break something apart.

Both cultures tend to hinge on rankings. If you’re the top dog, the world is your oyster. If you’re at the bottom of a white nationalist group, your quality of life suffers, but you still stick with it in hopes of being at the top eventually.

Good luck with that. The people at the top do not want a bottomer in their ranks because that means they will have to share more stuff with you. So, you will end up getting pushed out, pushed down, and sabotaged once you’re deemed a threat.

As for the meritocracy? That’s also a misnomer. There is no reason to be proud about destroying countries’ economies, harming other people, or gutting companies for capitalism. There’s no merit in doing evil. It’s a never-ending Kabuki dance of ladder-climbing with no real winners.

And yet, people break themselves apart just to try to climb that “merit” ladder every damn day. Why? Because they just want to get that higher rank, regardless of who it hurts.

Is it any shock, then, that both social circles tend to be noticeably addicted to uppers?

When you’re reduced to an appliance or a paycheck, it’s not surprising that you might start to reach for a “little helper” to just keep up the standard expected of you. It’s all about performance — and it’s never enough for anyone.

The uppers they take is just the toll they pay to keep trying to climb their invisible, self-destructive “meritocracy” ladder. They give you that warm, chemical hug that rushes you and makes you feel like you’re inspired.

Uppers like cocaine and meth give you that feeling of invincibility and also boost your energy. You end up working far longer than you reasonably should. And you feel so confident.

That nagging feeling of “not enough” or “you’re doing wrong?”

It’s gone when you’re on uppers.

And that’s precisely what makes them so addictive to workaholic Wall Streeters and white nationalists who need to get higher and higher in society so they can push their agendas.

And ketamine? Well, that’s a dissociative that makes perfect sense for someone like Elon.

Among my friends and I, we tend to call ketamine “forgetamine” because of how much you can forget while on it. It’s been a good tool for many of my friends living with PTSD — and while it’s not worked for me, it’s worked well for others.

Ketamine has this weird way of making certain people drift away from their problems, making it an easy out for people who don’t want to confront certain issues in their lives.

(Author’s Note: It didn’t work with me. Last time I used it, I thought my friend turned into the Red Power Ranger and that we were in Arizona. Nope. I was on the floor of my New Jersey apartment, during my wedding’s reception.)

When you don’t like who you are or what you’ve done, ketamine is not just an ally. It’s a crutch that makes you feel bearable. You can tolerate yourself because you’re not in yourself.

Elon knows, deep down inside, that he’s not a good person. As a former ketamine user, I’d wager he’s using it as a way to get away from the never-ending black pit in his soul that keeps growing as he abuses his money and power even more.

Because if you can just dissociate, you won’t care if you’re becoming a monster. The more powerful he gets, the more he relies on it because he desperately needs to escape himself and only ketamine can help him do that.

He’s far from the only white nationalist to have that struggle.

When I see someone snort a white powder, I assume they are stuck in a grind of sorts.

Most cokeheads and tweakers I know — the ones who use it regularly — are stuck in a Wall Street-style grind where you’re always on. Most ketamine addicts I know are looking to escape from their own thoughts.

To me, it’s not shocking that white powder seems to go with a yearning for white power or Wall Street. After all, both movements are all-consuming. The drugs they use is just a symptom of a bigger, more nefarious cause.

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Wondering if I should recreate that notorious James Brown interview…