It is the 41st month of the Trump Administration. For more than a hundred days The Ginsburg has sat immobile on the Golden Scotus Seat of Earth. She is the Master of Progressivism by the will of the gods, and master of a million social media impressions by the might of her inexhaustible bloggers. She is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of the Great Society. She is the Carrion Lady of the Left for whom a thousand foreskins are sacrificed every day, so that she may never truly die.
Yet even in her deathless state, the Ginsburg continues her eternal vigilance. Mighty super PACs cross the demon-infested miasma of the Mainstream Media, the only route between distant demographics, their way lit by the Progressonomican, the psychic manifestation of the Ginsburg’s will. Vast armies give battle in her name on uncounted websites. Greatest amongst her soldiers are the ShareBlue, the Shill Marines, legume-engineered super-hypocrites. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Merchant Guard and countless Jewish defence forces, the ever vigilant Social Justice Inquisition, and the shill-priests of the Overton Window, to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from heteros, whites, males - and worse.
To be a cis-male in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of the marketplace of ideas and individual liberty, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of bipartisanship and common ground, for in the grim dark future there is only filibusters. There is no peace amongst the states, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.