They still don’t understand what’s happening.
By Andrew Torba
For decades—generations, really—they controlled everything that mattered. They controlled the universities and the publishing houses. They controlled Hollywood and the news media. They controlled the HR departments and the professional associations. They built an entire infrastructure of acceptable opinion, a vast machine designed to manufacture consent and punish dissent. Anyone who stepped outside the approved boundaries found themselves unemployed, unpublished, and unpersoned. The system worked beautifully for a long time. It created the illusion of consensus, the feeling that “everyone” agreed on certain fundamental premises, and that only cranks and bigots thought otherwise.
That all ends now. Now we’re tearing the whole thing down, brick by brick, and we’re doing it with joy in our hearts and laughter on our lips. They built their tower of Babel, and God is scattering them once again—this time using shitposters and podcasters and ordinary men who simply refused to be afraid anymore.
Their primary weapon was never force. It was shame. The entire regime of control rested on a simple mechanism: if you said certain things, if you noticed certain patterns, if you asked certain questions, you would be called a name. And that name be it racist, sexist, antisemite, homophobe, fascist, Nazi—would function as a mark of Cain. It would follow you. It would cost you your job, your friends, your reputation. The word didn’t need to be accurate. It didn’t need to be fair. It just needed to be feared.
For seventy years, this worked. Men who saw the truth kept silent because they feared the consequences of speaking. They watched their countries transformed, their cultures degraded, their children propagandized and they said nothing, because saying something meant losing everything. The regime didn’t need gulags or secret police. It had something more effective: social death administered by whisper campaigns and HR departments.
But then something shifted. Maybe it was the sheer absurdity of watching them call everything racist until the word meant nothing. Maybe it was the internet allowing dissidents to find each other and realize they weren’t alone. Maybe it was the regime overplaying its hand so badly during COVID that millions of normal people suddenly understood that the experts were liars and the institutions were corrupt. Whatever the cause, the result is undeniable: the spell is broken.
They called us racists. We shrugged and said, “Define your terms.” They couldn’t, because “racist” had devolved into meaning “any white person who doesn’t hate himself.” So we stopped caring.
They called us antisemites. We opened our Bibles and read aloud. We quoted the Church Fathers. We pointed out that Jesus Himself called certain people a “synagogue of Satan.” Were they going to call the Son of God an antisemite?
They called us fascists, Nazis, white supremacists. We laughed, because we knew they used those words for anyone to the right of Mitt Romney. The terms had been so overused, so weaponized against so many obviously normal people, that they’d become meaningless. Calling someone a Nazi used to end the conversation. Now it just tells us you’ve run out of arguments.
They reached into their bag of magic words—the incantations that had controlled public discourse for three generations—and found that the words no longer worked. The names that once destroyed careers now merely identify who the regime fears most. Being called a “Christian Nationalist” by the New York Times is now a badge of honor, a sign that you’re over the target. We embrace it and own it.
The regime didn’t just control language; it constructed an entire mythology. A set of stories about history, about human nature, about progress and equality and the arc of justice. These myths were taught in every school, reinforced by every movie, assumed by every journalist. They formed the background radiation of American life—invisible, omnipresent, unquestionable.
But myths only survive as long as people believe them. And belief is crumbling.
They told us that diversity is our strength. They repeated it so often it became a catechism, a creed that every corporation and government agency recited without thought. But when we asked for evidence—when we pointed to the social trust studies, the crime statistics, the educational outcomes, the simple observation that every diverse society in history has been riven by conflict—they had no answer except to call us names. The diversity myth survives not because it’s true, but because questioning it is forbidden. And we no longer respect that prohibition.
They told us that America is a proposition nation—that anyone from anywhere can become “just as American” as the descendants of the Pilgrims simply by reciting an oath and receiving a piece of paper. We read what the actual Founders wrote. We discovered that the Naturalization Act of 1790 restricted citizenship to “free white persons of good character.” We learned that the Founders explicitly understood America as a nation for a particular people with a particular heritage. The “proposition nation” myth was invented in the twentieth century to justify the demographic transformation of the country. It has no basis in history, and we refuse to pretend otherwise.
They told us that the melting pot was working and that all these disparate peoples from every corner of the globe would eventually blend into one harmonious American identity. We looked around at the actual country: the ethnic enclaves that persist for generations, the bilingual ballots and multilingual government services, the racial grievance industry that grows larger every year, the open hatred directed at the historic American people by those who replaced them. The melting pot is a lie. It never worked, and it was never meant to work. It was a story told to keep the native population docile while their country was stolen from under them.
They told us we had no right to our own nations and that it was somehow immoral for European peoples to have homelands, even as every other group on earth was encouraged to celebrate its identity and preserve its territory. They told us that white people wanting to exist as a distinct people with our own countries was uniquely evil, while every other form of ethnic solidarity was beautiful and virtuous. We noticed the double standard. We refused to accept it. We are taking our countries back, and we don’t care how many think-pieces they write about the “dangers of white identity.”
One by one, every myth they constructed is being demolished:
The myth of equality the idea that all people and all groups are interchangeable, that any differences in outcome must be the result of oppression—is exposed as a weapon wielded against competence and excellence. Equality was never a description of reality; it was a tool for revolution, used to tear down every hierarchy and institution that stood in the way of those who wanted power.
The myth of progress the notion that history moves inexorably toward greater freedom, greater tolerance, greater enlightenment is revealed as a descent into barbarism. They call it progress when children are mutilated in the name of gender ideology. They call it progress when marriage is redefined and the family is destroyed. They call it progress when every form of degeneracy is celebrated while virtue is mocked. We see clearly now: their “progress” is the road to hell, and we’re getting off.
The myth of neutrality the pretense that secular liberalism represents some kind of fair, neutral ground on which all worldviews can compete equally—is unmasked as anti-Christian hatred wearing a procedural costume. There is no neutrality. Every society is organized around ultimate commitments. The question is never whether we’ll have a public religion, but which religion will be established. Their “neutral” liberalism turns out to be an aggressive faith that demands total submission and brooks no rivals. We see it for what it is now, and we reject it utterly.
The myth of “hate” the claim that any preference for your own, any attachment to your own heritage, any resistance to your own replacement, constitutes a moral failing called “hatred”—is shown to be nothing more than unapproved love. They don’t actually object to in-group preference; they celebrate it in every group except one. Their “anti-hate” crusade is simply a way to disarm one particular people while everyone else organizes along ethnic lines. We refuse to unilaterally disarm. We love our own, and we will not apologize for it.
Here’s what truly baffles them, what they cannot wrap their minds around: we’re having the time of our lives.
They expected us to be angry, bitter, consumed by resentment. They expected the weight of their attacks to demoralize us, to grind us down, to make us retreat into sullen silence. Instead, we’re laughing. We’re making memes. We’re building communities. We’re raising families. We’re going to church and growing in faith. We’re more alive than we’ve ever been.
They made a crucial miscalculation. They thought their disapproval still mattered to us. They thought the threat of being called names would keep us in line. But once you stop caring about the opinions of people who hate you and once you realize that their approval was never available to you anyway and that nothing you could ever do would satisfy them: something magical happens. You become free.
And freedom is joyful.
We spent years, many of us spent decades, living under the weight of their manufactured shame. We bit our tongues at family gatherings. We self-censored at work. We watched what we said online. We lived in fear of the social consequences of speaking truth. And it was exhausting. It was soul-crushing. It made us weak and anxious and compliant.
Those days are over.
Now we get to say what we actually think, out loud, and discover that millions of people agree with us. Now we get to watch the regime’s narratives collapse in real time, as normies wake up to truths we’ve understood for years. Now we get to build something new—real friendships, real communities, real institutions—on the foundation of shared truth rather than shared lies.
This isn’t grim duty. This isn’t angry resentment. This is the joy of a man let out of prison. This is the exhilaration of speaking freely after a lifetime of enforced silence. This is the deep satisfaction of finding your people, your tribe, your brothers—men who see what you see and refuse to pretend otherwise.
They spent years making us afraid of them. Now the fear runs in the other direction. They’re the ones writing panicked articles about the “rise of Christian Nationalism.” They’re the ones holding emergency conferences about the “threat to democracy.” They’re the ones whose voices tremble when they talk about what’s happening.
They’re terrified, and they should be.
We, meanwhile, are laughing. Because watching their system of control crumble is genuinely, deeply, hilariously funny.
Let’s talk about long-term trends for a moment.
They have no children. Not really. Oh, some of them have a child—singular—usually after delaying parenthood until their late thirties, usually raised by daycare workers and public school teachers and iPad algorithms. But their fertility rates are catastrophically below replacement. They are quite literally dying out.
We have families. Large ones. We believe children are a blessing, not a burden. We homeschool and disciple and raise the next generation to carry on after we’re gone. Every year, there are more of us and fewer of them. Time is on our side.
They have no faith. They have nothing to die for and therefore nothing to live for. They fill the void with politics and consumption and therapy and prescription drugs. They worship themselves and wonder why they’re miserable. Their spiritual emptiness is written on their faces and evident in their despair.
We have Christ. We have a King who conquered death and promises us eternal life. We have a purpose that transcends politics and outlasts nations. We have a hope that cannot be taken from us by any power on earth. Our faith makes us strong, and their lack of faith makes them weak.
They have no vision for the future. Their entire program is negative: tear down the past, deconstruct everything, abolish every distinction, celebrate every transgression. But they cannot build. They can only destroy. Their vision of the future is a gray, atomized, medicated wasteland of interchangeable consumer-units supervised by bureaucrats and algorithms.
We have a civilization to rebuild. We have a heritage to reclaim. We have a people to preserve and a future to secure for our children and grandchildren. We know what we’re building toward, and we’re willing to work for generations to achieve it.
Every institution they captured is failing. The universities are hemorrhaging credibility. The media is bleeding subscribers. The mainline churches they converged are empty. Their demographic base is shrinking. Their coalition is fragmenting. Their ideological hegemony is collapsing.
They have nothing left but the names they call us. And those names have lost their power.
So let them write their articles. Let them post their warnings. Let them hold their panel discussions about the “threat” we pose. Let them call us every name in their shrinking arsenal.
We’re not listening anymore.
We’re over here building parallel institutions and raising strong families. We’re planting churches and winning school board elections. We’re networking with our brothers and preparing for the long struggle ahead. We’re reading old books and rediscovering ancient wisdom. We’re lifting weights and learning skills and becoming men our ancestors would be proud of.
And yes, we’re laughing. We’re enjoying the memes and the camaraderie and the sheer absurdity of watching a dying regime flail against the inevitable. We’re having fun, because why wouldn’t we? God is on His throne. History is turning. The future belongs to those who show up for it.
Their world is ending. Ours is just beginning.
Let them rage into the void. We have work to do—and we’re going to enjoy every minute of it.
Andrew Torba
CEO, Gab AI Inc
Christ is King
