The Postmodernists applaud when grifters and the mentally compromised enter women’s sports leagues. They call this “acceptance.”
The Postmodernists applaud consumerism and the shaving of our gold coins; they label this “stimulus.”
The Postmodernists celebrate child abusers who mutilate the fragile bodies and psyches of the impressionable young. They call this “progressive.”
The Postmodernists bathe themselves in fiat and believe they can print their way to utopia. They feast on poisoned Progress until they must wretch with sick before devouring more.
It is then no surprise that the Postmodernists have taken up the mantle of war and use it as a cloak—celebrating collusion with the military industrial complex. They cheer to “Stand with Ukraine” when to do so is to cheer on their own demise. They do not see that Ukraine is a pawn on the global chessboard—a piece moved by two Titans of War in a deadly game of brinksmanship.
Ares smiles as WW3 is groaned for by the sheep he has beguiled.
Hermes has infused Postmodern thought into the culture like a warm bath for man he can slowly bring to a raging boil.
Those desperately clinging onto the last remaining vestiges of the failing epoch of Postmodernism do so with a rabid ferocity that befits their desire to hang onto Meaning itself.
So enemies at the gate who champion for peace are hated with a red hot passion; for they are not on their “team.”
Those who discover fraud and deceit are derided as evil narcissists for daring to reveal a darkness that has become a warming blanket for their fell deeds.
Wrong is accepted as truth. Because fellow Postmodernists say it is so! And only they are to be believed because they are one of you. And you are one of them. And that gives you Purpose.
