Now that the charm has worn off the transsexual craze — the idea that a person’s emotional distress can be cured by identifying as the opposite sex — we await the next ploy out of the Woke Transhumanist game-plan to destabilize the human project on earth. People-of-color, brown, indigenous, Pacific Islander, gay, lesbian, plus-size, differently-abled, all women (of course), have taken their turn in the batting order of intersectional oppressed minority groups, and each has walked off with a participation trophy. Who’s left now?

The dead! Their needs have not received sufficient attention. Inclusion has not come to them… yet. They are systematically kept out of all current activities and ceremonies. They are segregated in ghettos of grass and granite. The legal system stigmatizes them. Numerically, through human history, they are by far the largest demographic. Yet, they are routinely ignored, overlooked, disrespected. If anyone deserves to be Woked-up from the sleep of oppression, it’s them.

Don’t despair, a great grooming is underway. The next new thing will be for most of us to transition into the dead. Do you think it’s an accident that Hollywood has churned out zombie movies by morgue-full in recent years? Obviously, more and more Americans have come to identify as the walking dead. (And, judging by the behavior in our land, a lot of people’s brains have been eaten.) Even our businesses and banks have a walking dead kind of look to them.

Our project in Ukraine has been a tremendous grooming aid in preparing people to become dead. But that experiment is nearly complete now. Hence, we must seek a much bigger global project for transitioning humanity into the satisfactions of being dead. A war with China would be the ideal grooming opportunity. They outnumber us about ten to one. They’ve developed hypersonic missiles that can deliver nuclear payloads anywhere in our country, with the potential of transitioning millions of Americans at a time. And when they’re done with that, they can send an army over here to work the luckless survivors to death out in the soybean fields and the corn rows.

Perhaps in anticipation of this, America elected (so they say) a president in mid-transition to being dead. “Joe Biden” is celebrated for staying mostly out-of-sight, underground, for speaking a dead language that resembles 20th century American vernacular English, for lurching one way and another, zombie-like, on his way off-stage in fleeting public appearances, and for taking large sums of money from Chinese officials who support America’s transitioning program. Best of all, the president personally empathizes and identifies with the dead, encourages more Americans to become dead, offers cash incentives to hospitals that expedite death, and makes pharmaceuticals available — both legal and illegal — for inducing efficient transitions to the bliss of non-being.

In fact, there seems to be a rush now to transition, with the pace being set by professional athletes in their twenties and thirties who keel over in mid-play on the football pitches, by movie actors who undergo conversion as the cameras roll, TV news-readers who drop away from the mic with eyes rolling down like window shades in full view of multitudes, and other celebrities who surprise their loved ones by simply waking up dead in the morning. These are the edgy avatars of the next big thing. So hallowed are their transitions from living to dead, that the process is spoken of only in whispers, as in a church or a sepulcher. Doctors who come upon the scene are mesmerized to the point of silence, too much in awe to speak of what brought on the fateful transition — certainly nothing they did.

As the people go, so goes the nation. The USA is transitioning from a dynamic system of economic liberty, endeavor, and law to an entropic dystopia of chaos, corruption, and inertia. As suits a country of the walking dead, nothing works: telephone calls go dead, the bank won’t give you any money, your duties on-the-job have been eliminated, your food store has closed down, there are no parts available for your broken things, your flights are cancelled, your Facebook archive has been erased, your opinion is not wanted, your vote is meaningless, your children no longer need your permission to do anything, and, final insult, a martini now costs fifteen dollars.

Death is everywhere in America now, hovering over everything we do. Don’t fight it — celebrate it! Foster it wherever you go, among all you consort with! Welcome it as you slough off all the annoyances of being here and rise to your blessed platform in the perfect gnostic Elysium promised by the theurgists of Wokery. Become the dead you long to be!