How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Royals

Kinda.

September 23 2022

Fair to say I went hard early on the Lizard Queen. Apparently you are supposed to give it at least 24 hours.

Too hard too soon? I mean, in my defence, I had been waiting for it: every Qtard knows the knocking off of the Matriarch was one of the last 5D chess moves before the first domino.

Maybe I just made it too personal: to miss the role of Queen Lizzie as a redeemer of a fundamentally immoral, blatantly-natural-law-defying institution — rather then the upholder of it. And then the whole thing (at least Downunder) got hijacked by race, so I had to tap out.

And then I read who I think has to be my favourite Substacker, got triggered, and a penny dropped.

It’s all about resisting, by any means necessary, the exhausting and ceaseless onrush of the obliterating anti-cultural force of transhumanism, isn’t it? And resistance can come in many forms, some real and some imagined — imagination ultimately being the best weapon we have at our disposal against the AI soul trap.

Anyway, back to the point: do we get our fake Apocalypse now?