To the Fan Dong (Reactionaries)

You exist in your make-believe world. Your world where if men were gentlemen and women were ladies, all would be well. Where, if only, people went to church and believed the jot and tittle of the latest orthodoxy (read: what you believe is the oldest orthodoxy). Where if only everyone was like you—if only there was agreement that kids just needed to learn their ABC’s and 123’s and if everyone was SAVED.

Do you know how old you sound—and old not in a good way (as in you know your shit and you’re at the top of your game), but in a bad way (as in, you’re tired, worn out, ready to die and turn into a time capsule monument)? Do you know that people don’t have to become like lifeless fossils who think, feel, hear, listen only in the space they occupied at 25?

Do you realize that if Satan had an ultimate battle plan it would include making you all nostalgic, fan dong, incapable of seeing anything like the real world for all the clouds and delusions misting in your brains? Do you realize you have made yourselves exactly useless in your aspiration to worship yourselves, to make yourselves the idols, the respectable ones. Yes, it’s all about you—except it is not at all about you.

The world is not listening to you anymore. You are in an echo chamber. Your delusions haunt the next generation of gullible people who are still alive but who will become the last feeble gasp of a zombie ghost.

Did it ever occur to you that you might be working for the wrong team? That you might be wrong, that you might not know everything, that you might be missing something, that you might be destructive rather than constructive? Never—you are absolutely certain! Well, good luck with that.

It’s time to get out of the way. Time is speeding up. Wisdom no longer necessarily comes with age. We may need to leave you behind. I’m sorry, but if you don’t want to come along, you’ll be stuck on an ice burg which is melting fast.


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