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Observing the whirling world of humans, with equal parts wonder, disgust and amusement, the Red Pill Poet speaks truth and truth to power.
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1 Impelled to somehow quell a nagging sense of emptiness; to build bonds of belonging however dubious however tenuous impelled to replace at any cost their ruptured culture's lately-lost ancestral wisdom's beneficial feelings in a desperate instinctive search for a spark of purpose and a kernel of meaning impelled to oppose the soul-eroding force of spiritual poverty by latching on to the vaunted wealth of some richly manipulative half-baked ideology impelled to sign up for the righteous folly of joining some pie-in-the-sky crusade; to embrace some grievously impolitic political charade effectively conditioned to reflexively reject all that came before; to erase the Four Olds and their stories as if the mere demolition of traditions were sufficient to open the door to a future full of glory the rootless youthful masses being as they were the engineered fruit of dystopian wokeness-grafting classes and pervasive deracination operations were perfectly ripe for recruitment into a cult for otherwise rudderless gullible first-worlders were ripe to enlist in a movement whose very existence couldn't help but help proving that broad swaths of a coddled navel-gazing spoiled-rotten populace — one essentially exempt from material troubles — would to placate their inculcated guilt bedevil themselves with fictitious struggles dreamt up by their overlord-saviours would — to fill their inner void and give their lives direction — devote themselves to whichever cause was top of the devious agenda pushed by the commissar tools of the New World disOrder's secular gods. 2 As revealed when stripped of the flimsy husks that conceal its deceitful conceits wokeism is among other things these: precepts and dictates cleverly couched in the ever-appealing feel-good language of justice caring and kindness in the sunshine-lollipops road-to-hell blindness of good intentions authoritarian top-down directives obscured beneath an ever-swelling sheaf of profoundly deceptive smiley-faced beliefs social poisons posing as their antidotes prejudice masquerading as its antipode racism and bullying fully robed in the “anti-” prefixed frocks of their ostensible opposites vindictiveness cynically cloaked in the cape of faux compassion tyranny in the raiment of liberation narcissism in the histrionic actions of allegedly-selfless engagement exclusion for the sake of inclusion intolerance in the name of tolerance unwavering conformity and sameness in the name of enforcing diversity the normalization of blatant absurdity the peak quite possibly of reality-inverting perversity the acme perhaps of hypocrisy the height of inconsistent philosophy a highly malignant psychopathology disguised as a salutary piety whose clandestine intent was and is to unravel the fabric of a fractured society. 3 Inhibiting liberalism by crushing liberty in every sense under the unblushing pretense of furthering its growth passing off conduct of the kind it's quick to roundly denounce when found outside the fold as intrinsically virtuous if in service of the Great Sainted Purpose generating hate or plain making it up in the laughable name of fighting it; straining to sink the listing ship of civ under the risible pretext of righting it what is wokeism — given this litany of duplicities — if not the most corrosive double-standard-dealing-and-driven division-triggering of civil religions?
Your poems are so exquisite that it is rather daunting to write a response. Nevertheless, thank you, especially for using the word cult as that is what it appears to be from my perspective. It is all so illogical and I am too old to wrap my mind around it at 58. I’ve owned quite a lot of poetry books and you are right up there with the best of them. Certainly you are the poet for our current times. Thank you again.
Great insight into the fall, and marvelous unfurling of the scroll of word-works, as usual.
I remember a 78 rpm record from when I was four years old...
Three little monkeys sitting on a shelf
sitting and sitting all day--
"See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil"
is all they say.