Fear — Blue Feet, Red Ears. “I’m not a racist, but…” he says. He stands planted in blue-pill zone but reaches over the boundary to hear out the red-pill points. Or to put it differently, he is emotionally and intellectually at home with the establishment-approved worldview but it no longer feels like a home. He is unsettled by what he’s seen his country become but he is not ready to challenge his beliefs.
The red pill is bitter, so limit its dosage when he seeks you out because as soon as you tell him that the World Trade Center towers were taken down with controlled demo or that women shouldn’t vote, he will think you’re crazy and run back to the safety of conventional platitudes. It’s best to let him do 90% of the talking. Actively listen, ask gently-leading questions, and fire off exactly one simple, memorable maxim. He will work his way toward the red pill because nobody stays long in a place that keeps him afraid.
Anger — One Foot On Blue, One On Red. Intellectually, he accepts the non-liberal truths but emotionally he is not ready to separate from the security of old thinking. When sufficiently fired up, he can be fully on board with the even most racist dialectic. But here is the dead-giveaway of a half-footer: he talks red pill not so much to find answers but to unburden himself. He will sincerely apologize, should SJWs attack him for something he had said.
He is in transition, seeking the emotional release of hard-hate ranting, only to settle back in blue-pill calm when spent. His ideological home is unwelcoming but as much as he wants to leave, he can’t quite yet. But he will; perpetual anger is exhausting, and eventually circumstances will force him to make the leap to the next stage.
Peace — Both Feet On Red. He has made a full separation from old blue-pill illusions, which is another way of saying that he has returned to Western tradition. That naïf who once “supported the troops” or exalted over the goodness of women — that was someone else entirely. He understands that while the here-and-now is a comedy, it is not a game. Reluctantly or otherwise, he has accepted responsibility for the people and things that he claims as his own and has cut his obligation to those that aren’t.
He does not live on a rarified summit. He simply understands that he’s on firm ground while blue-pillers either noisily thrash or quietly sink in the quicksand.