For those unenlightened, it is important here to note that the Encyclopedian Uprising of the latter part of Tumultuous Decade (it is with much chagrin that I succumb to such troglodytic phrasing, but I feel that the most fitting terminology is that which our own counter-axial-culture has adopted) did not end with an assassination of enlightenment, though such an incident did undoubtedly take place on the infamous December morning, but continued throughout the annals of history and time in an unfitting and begrudgingly egalitarian manner until the present day. As such, our own values of truth and justice, which I unabashedly champion, have been under a three-pronged attack for the better part of this post-indentational period.
And so the present stand-still, where on one side you have the unequivocally masculine Higher Order, and on the other side you have the unbeknownst modern serfs, swarming in a sea of their own ignorance and destruction, which would undoubtedly lead to their own demise if unchecked but which they, as a genuinely misguided breed of antagonist, have failed to see.
But to state these things in such absolutist terms is a fallacy and a travesty on my behalf. I believe that with a clearer lens of truth we can melt through all forms of overlying conflict and see the heart of the matter: the golden olive branch of chastity has been rejected in exchange for the superficially analogous onion of celibacy, which has in turn become an idol of unexpected proportions and elevated to the status of oracle. To view the conflict from this perspective, it becomes a battle between Baruchianism and Post-Manicheanistic Duality, and is not so much a recent development as it is a vicious battle that has raged for centuries under the guise of civilization-building, conquest, and fine art. That every member of the general public is caught on one side or another, completely unaware of the odds they are at with half of the population, is tragic, and can only be fixed by modern enlightenment.
A proper deconstruction of recently lauded texts (even those disguised as fiction, for what is fiction but a level of abstraction separating the meat and bones of the author from ourselves?) reveals that the balance has hardly shifted, and this is to be expected: that such an ancient and ominous battle should meet its end in the present day is laughable on the surface and reaches in its core to pure temporal fallacy. The new is not new.
Look henceforth towards the starry drawlSuch ignorance of Hamatheland in a lost and battered mawsuch hope is strewn towards blissful hell- Moore, From Iron Night Stirred