Worst Dialectic Ever: Bad Times with Nikki the Hegelian

The Ultimate Philosophy Lesson

Hail! I’ve been sharing lots of guest posts lately. Here’s a recent one if you missed it. I haven’t really shared any drama posts, unless you count this one that I wrote about a goth club. Yet I haven’t shared any drama guest posts. I know there are two sides two every story, and I don’t intend to silence Nikki the Hegelian if she wants to share hers, but I want to give a platform to a less recognized member of the underground scene.

Many people know about the Hegelian E-Girls, but how many are familiar with Rachel Siegel? Hers is a far less recognized name—but why?

This piece serves to share Rachel Siegel’s story about Nikki the Hegelian and shed light on what happens when a dialectic goes horribly wrong.

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My name is Rachel Seigel and I’m the head of Thugshaker Nation. I was a target of Nikki the Hegelian, a name feared by Dimes Square trust fund brats everywhere. I’m gonna clear the air on something before I blow this place up. Nikki is mid-looking at best and as she’s as whiny and fake as all of us expected. I didn’t even know who she was until I held up a sign that said “Race War Now” at the Democratic National Convention in August—it was here in Chicago when it all started. I didn’t know this would make me a target of this fake philosophy influencer.

I’d been off social media for a year and a half and didn’t care about how my terminally online counterparts were rotting. I didn’t want to know. I reactivated my Twitter account because of the media attention I was getting at the DNC. I gained a new following and it was done. Easy peasy. An account going by the name of “Nikki the Hegelian” messaged me out of nowhere. I had no clue who she was but assumed she was doing either a misguided grift or weird female pickme satire. In a way I felt drawn to her, maybe out of curiosity or loneliness. I’d been trying to make friends for my 22nd birthday party and Nikki seemed like someone I could hit it off with.

At least at first she did.

Things escalated quickly. Nikki became “womanly” and invited herself out to Chicago to stay with me in my studio apartment. She was hitting on me like a dollar store escort, but I needed the company. I was thinking she could make my birthday party fun. Maybe I wasn’t thinking at all. The more that I think about it, the more I wonder.

The day Nikki arrived in Chicago my boyfriend and I picked her up at O’Hare. He’s a 31-year-old military stud with two masters who has actually read Hegel and said “I don’t like him and all of his philosophy is worthless.” Nikki rubbed him the wrong way from the beginning. He didn’t want to interact with her. He found her vapid and annoying, but he wasn’t rude to her.

She was rude to him, even calling him autistic—which he’s not. He just didn’t want to deal with her fake ass. Not wanting to hang out doesn’t make you autistic. At this point I was still open to hanging with Nikki because I had to see the whole thing through. I needed to see if there was a substantive critique behind her persona.

Nikki kept saying she wanted me to introduce her to Thomas777 and Nick Fuentes like some obsessed fangirl. Her begging for these intros made me uncomfortable. It repulsed me. I hate social climbing. I kept telling her to stop doing my drugs and she kept doing more of them. We wanted to kick her out of our apartment but didn’t want her to get killed out there. She became a liability. She was a toddler and I was her eternal chaperone.

I found out that Nikki the Hegelian was a shill for some communist loser named Haz. I don’t know the details and I don’t want to. I hate communists and everything they track in. Nikki would ramble on about how amazing he was for hours. Haz this. Haz that. I had no fucking interest in who Haz was. I told Nikki I hated commies and wanted a race war. She must have thought that I was doing it all as a bit because all that Nikki knows is bits.

I’m not doing a bit. I am Rachel Siegel and I’ve put in the work to be recognized with Thugshaker Nation. I had the balls to show up at the DNC and represent my crew. What has Nikki the Hegelian ever done? She turned out to be a drug addict who stole $500 worth of ketamine, cocaine, and marijuana from me. This is not a small amount of money. I work at a clinic as a substance abuse counselor. The line between dealing with junkies at my job and my job of dealing with—well—Nikki the Hegelian had started to blur.

The bitch couldn’t hang. I live in a neighborhood run by violent gangs and she would’ve gotten us killed if I wasn’t well connected. I live in an all-black area and she had no idea how to behave or get around. I had to help her 24/7 no matter what I was busy with. She should have called herself Nikki the Toddler. Maybe that would have gotten her more attention.

Her behavior became more intolerable as the days and nights went on. She kicked me out of my own bed and began begging me for drugs and money. She resembled a dog and had nothing to say about Hegel through any of this. At one point my boyfriend actually wanted to fight her and I had to hold him back.

She talked a lot about how she was going to join Curtis Yarvin’s sex harem but her story didn’t add up. Curtis is married. I don’t think he even knows who she is. Well, I do. I know who Nikki the Hegelian is. She’s here on an expired visa in America and needs to go back to Canada. If she doesn’t pay me back I’ll be deporting her myself. I’m sick of these prostitutes and their yacht parties.

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