The historical Jesus Fact or Fiction? PART 2

Archaeology, “External Evidence,” and Groundhog Day in the Comment Section

Welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays, where we stay curious, stay skeptical, and keep a healthy distance from any dogma, whether it’s wrapped in a Bible verse or a political ideology.

This is Part Two of my Jesus Myth series, and I’m going to be straight with you:

This one is a doozy.
Buckle up, buttercup. Feel free to pause and come back.

Originally, the plan was to bring David Fitzgerald back for another conversation. If you listened to Part One, you know he’s done a ton to popularize the idea that Jesus never existed and to dismantle Christian dogma. I still agree with the core mythicist claim: I don’t think the Jesus of the Gospels was a real historical person. If you missed it, here is the link.

But agreeing with someone’s conclusion doesn’t mean I hand them a free pass on how they argue.

After our first interview, I went deeper into Fitzgerald’s work and into critiques of it (especially Tim O’Neill’s long atheist review that absolutely shreds his method.) While his critique of Fitzgerald’s arguments is genuinely useful; his habit of branding people with political labels (“Trump supporter,” “denier”) to discredit them is… very regressive.

It’s the same purity-testing impulse you see in progressive (should be regressive) spaces, just performed in a different costume.

And that’s what finally pushed me over the edge:
The more I watch the atheist/deconstruction world online, the more it reminded me of the exact rigid, dogmatic cultures people say they escaped.

Not all atheists, obviously. But a very loud chunk of that ecosystem runs on:

  • dunking, dog-piling, and humiliation
  • tribal loyalty, not actual inquiry
  • “You’re dead to me” energy toward anyone who may lean conservative or shows nuance

It’s purity culture in different branding.

Then I read how Fitzgerald responded to critics in those archived blog exchanges (not with clear counterarguments) but with emotional name-calling and an almost devotional defense of his “hero and mentor,” Richard Carrier. For me, that was a hard stop.

Add to that: his public Facebook feed is full of contempt for moderates, conservatives, “anti-vaxxers,” and basically anyone outside progressive orthodoxy. My audience includes exactly those people. This space is built for nuance for people who’ve already escaped one rigid belief system and are not shopping for a new one.

He’s free to have his politics.
I’m free not to platform that energy.

So instead of Part Two with a guest, you’re getting something I honestly think is better:

  • me (😜)
  • a stack of sources
  • a comment section that turned into a live demo of modern apologetics
  • and a segment at the end where I turn the same critical lens on the mythicist side — including Fitzgerald himself

Yes, we’re going there. Just not yet.


Previously on Taste of Truth…

In Part One, I unpacked why “Jesus might never have existed” is treated like a taboo thought — even though the historical evidence is thin and the standards used to “prove” Jesus would never pass in any other field of ancient history.

Then, in a Taste Test Thursday episode, I zoomed out and asked:
Why do apologists argue like this at all?
We walked through:

  • early church power moves
  • modern thought-stopping tricks
  • and Neil Van Leeuwen’s idea of religious “credences,” which don’t function like normal factual beliefs at all

That episode was about the machinery.

Today is about the evidence. Especially the apologetic tropes that showed up in my comments like a glitching NPC on repeat.


⭐ MYTHS #6 & #7 — “History and Archaeology Confirm the Gospels”

Papyrus P52 (𝔓52), often called the oldest New Testament manuscript. (It’s the size of a credit card)
Apologists treat it like a smoking gun.
It contains… one complete word: ‘the.’

These two myths always show up together in the comments, and honestly, they feed off each other. People claim, “history confirms the Gospels,” and when that collapses, they jump to “archaeology proves Jesus existed.” So, I’m combining them here, because the evidence (and the problems) overlap more than apologists want to admit.

In short:
Archaeology confirms the setting. History confirms the existence of Christians.
Neither confirms the Jesus of the Gospels.

And once you actually look at the evidence, the apologetic scaffolding falls apart fast.


1. What Archaeology Really Shows (and What It Doesn’t)

If Jesus were a public figure performing miracles, drawing crowds, causing disturbances, and being executed by Rome, archaeology should show something tied to him or to his original movement.

Here’s what archaeology does show:

  • Nazareth existed.
  • Capernaum existed.
  • The general layout of Judea under Rome.
  • Ritual baths, synagogues, pottery, coins.
  • A real Pilate (from a fragmentary inscription).

That’s the setting.

Here’s what archaeology has never produced:

  • no house of Jesus
  • no workshop or tools
  • no tomb we can authenticate
  • no inscription naming him
  • no artifacts linked to the Twelve
  • no evidence of a public ministry
  • no trace of Gospel-level notoriety

Not even a rumor in archaeology that points to a miracle-working rabbi.
Ancient Troy existing doesn’t prove Achilles existed.
Nazareth existing doesn’t prove Jesus existed.

Apologists push the setting as if it confirms the character. It doesn’t.


2. Geography Problems, Anachronisms & Literary Tells

If the Gospels were eyewitness-based biographies, their geography would line up with first-century Palestine.

Instead, we get:

• Towns that don’t match reality

The Gerasene/Gadarene/Gergesa demon-pig fiasco moves between three different locations because the original story (Mark) puts Jesus 30 miles inland… nowhere near a lake or cliffs.

• Galilee described like a later era

Archaeology shows Galilee in the 20s CE was:

  • taxed to the bone
  • rebellious
  • dotted with large Romanized cities like Sepphoris and Tiberias

But the Gospels portray quaint fishing villages, peaceful Pharisees, and quiet countryside. This reflects post-70 CE Galilee: the era when the Gospels were actually written.

• Homeric storms on a tiny lake

Mark treats the Sea of Galilee like the Aegean (raging storms, near capsizings, disciples fearing death) even though ancient critics mocked this because the “sea” is a small lake.

Dennis MacDonald shows Mark lifting whole scenes from Homer, which explains the mismatch: his geography serves his literary needs, not the historical landscape.

• Joseph of “Arimathea” (a town no one can find)

Carrier and others point out the name works more like a literary pun (“best disciple town”) than a real toponym.

• Emmaus placed at different distances

Luke places it seven miles away. Other manuscripts vary. There was no fixed memory.

These aren’t the mistakes of people writing about their homeland.
They’re the mistakes of later authors constructing a symbolic landscape.


3. The Gospel Trial Scenes: Legally Impossible

This is the part Christians never touch.

One of the most respected legal scholars of ancient Jewish law did a line-by-line analysis of the Gospel trial scenes. He wasn’t writing from a religious angle, he approached it strictly as a historian of legal procedure.

His conclusion?
The trial described in the Gospels violates almost every rule of how Jewish courts actually worked.

According to his research:

  • capital trials were never held at night
  • they were not allowed during festivals like Passover
  • capital verdicts required multiple days, not hours
  • the High Priest did not interrogate defendants
  • witness testimony had to match
  • beating a prisoner during questioning was illegal
  • and Jewish courts didn’t simply hand people over to Rome

When you stack these facts together, it becomes clear:

The Gospel trial scenes aren’t legal history…. they’re theological storytelling.

That’s before we even get to Pilate.

Pilate was not a timid bureaucrat.

He was violent, ruthless, removed from office for brutality.


4. Acts Doesn’t Remember Any Gospel Miracles

If Jesus actually:

  • drew crowds,
  • fed thousands,
  • raised the dead,
  • blacked out the sun,
  • split the Temple curtain,
  • and resurrected publicly…

Acts (written after the Gospels) should remember all of this.

Instead:

  • No one in Acts has heard of Jesus.
  • No one mentions an empty tomb.
  • No one cites miracles as recent events.
  • Roman officials are clueless.
  • Paul knows Jesus only through visions and the scriptures.

Acts behaves exactly like a community whose “history” was not yet written.


5. Manuscripts: Many Copies, No Control

Apologists love saying:

“We have 24,000 manuscripts!”

Quantity isn’t quality.

  • almost all are medieval
  • the earliest are tiny scraps
  • none are originals
  • no first-century copies
  • scribes altered texts freely
  • entire passages were added or deleted
  • six of Paul’s letters are pseudonymous
  • many early Christian writings were forged

Even Origen admitted that scribes “add and remove what they please” (privately, of course.)

The manuscript tradition looks nothing like reliable preservation.


6. The Church Fathers Don’t Help (and They Were Tampered With Too)

This is where Fitzgerald’s chapter hits hardest.

Before 150 CE, we have:

  • no Church Father quoting any Gospel
  • no awareness of four distinct Gospels
  • no clear references to Gospel events

Justin Martyr (writing in the 150s) is the first to quote anything Gospel-like, and:

  • he never names Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John
  • many of his quotes don’t match our Gospels
  • he calls them simply “the memoirs”

Even worse:

The writings of Ignatius, Polycarp, Dionysius of Corinth, and many others were tampered with.
Some were forged entirely.

So the apologetic claim “The Fathers confirm the Gospels” collapses:

They don’t quote them.
They don’t know them.
And their own texts are unstable.

Metzger claimed we could reconstruct the New Testament from the Fathers’ quotations but his own scholarship shows the Fathers don’t quote anything reliably until after the Gospels were circulating.


7. External Pagan Sources: Late, Thin, and Dependent on Christian Claims

This is the other half of the myth… that “history” outside the Bible confirms Jesus.

Let’s look quickly:

• Tacitus (116 CE)

Reports what Christians of his day believed.
He cites no source, no archive, no investigation.

• Pliny (c. 111 CE)

Says Christians worship Christ “as a god.”
Confirms Christians existed — not that Jesus did.

• Josephus (93 CE)

The Testimonium is tampered with.
Even conservative scholars admit Christian hands were all over it.
The “James, brother of Jesus” line is ambiguous at best.

These are not independent confirmations.
They’re late echoes of Christian claims.


In closing:

You can confirm:

  • towns
  • coins
  • synagogues
  • political offices
  • geography

But that only shows the world existed, not the characters.

The Gospels are theological narratives composed decades later, stitched out of scripture, symbolism, literary models, and the needs of competing communities.

Archaeology confirms the backdrop.
History confirms the movement.
Neither confirms the biography.

Once you strip away apologetic spin, the evidence points to late, literary, constructed narratives, not eyewitness records of a historical man.


Myth #8: “Paul and the Epistles Confirm the Gospels”

Albert Schweitzer pointed out that if we only had Paul’s letters, we would never know that:

  • Jesus taught in parables
  • gave the Sermon on the Mount
  • told the “Our Father” prayer
  • healed people in Galilee
  • debated Pharisees

From Paul and the other epistles, you wouldn’t even know Jesus was from Nazareth or born in Bethlehem.

That alone should make us pause before saying, “Paul confirms the Gospels.”

Paul’s “Gospel” Is Not a Life Story

When Paul says “my gospel,” he doesn’t mean a narrative like Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John. His gospel is:

  • Christ died for our sins
  • was buried
  • was raised
  • now offers salvation to those who trust him

No:

  • Bethlehem, Nazareth, Mary, Joseph
  • John the Baptist
  • miracles, exorcisms, parables
  • empty tomb story with women at dawn

And this isn’t because Paul is forgetful. His letters are full of perfect moments to say, “As Jesus taught us…” or “As we all know from our Lord’s ministry…”

He never does.

Instead, he appeals to:

  • his own visions
  • the Hebrew scriptures (in Greek translation, the Septuagint)
  • what “the Lord” reveals directly to him

For Paul, Christ is:

  • “the image of the invisible God”
  • “firstborn of all creation”
  • the cosmic figure through whom all things were made
  • the one who descends to the lower realms, defeats spiritual powers, and ascends again

That is cosmic myth language… not “my friend’s rabbi who did a lot of teaching in Galilee a few decades ago.”

The “Lord’s Supper,” Not a Last Supper

The one place people think Paul lines up with the Gospels is 1 Corinthians 11, where he describes “the Lord’s Supper.”

Look closely:

  • He never calls it “the Last Supper.”
  • He never says it was a Passover meal.
  • He never places it in Jerusalem.
  • He says he received this ritual from the Lord, not from human eyewitnesses.

The phrase he uses, kuriakon deipnon (“Lord’s dinner”), is the same kind of language used for sacred meals in pagan mystery cults.

The verb he uses for “handed over” is used elsewhere of God handing Christ over, or Christ handing himself over not of a buddy’s betrayal. The specific “Judas betrayed him at dinner” motif shows up later, in the Gospels.

Then, when later authors retell the scene, they can’t even agree on the script. We get:

  • Paul’s version
  • Mark’s version
  • Matthew’s tweak on Mark
  • Luke’s two different textual forms
  • and John, who skips a Last Supper entirely and relocates the “eat my flesh, drink my blood” thing to a synagogue sermon in Capernaum

That looks less like multiple eyewitness reports and more like a liturgical formula evolving as it gets theologized.

Hebrews and the Missing Connection

The author of Hebrews:

  • goes deep on covenant and sacrificial blood
  • quotes Moses: “This is the blood of the covenant…”
  • spends time on Melchizedek, who brings bread and wine and blesses Abraham

In other words:
The author sets up what would be a perfect sermon illustration for the Last Supper… but he never takes it. No “as our Lord did on the night he was betrayed.” No Eucharist scene. No Passover meal.

The simplest explanation:
He doesn’t know that story. He knows the ritual meaning; the later narrative scene in Jerusalem hasn’t been invented yet in his circle.

How Paul Says He Knows Christ

Paul is very clear about his source:

  • He did not receive his gospel from any human (Galatians 1).
  • He barely met the Jerusalem “pillars,” waited years to even visit them, and insists they added nothing to his message.
  • He says God “revealed his Son in me.”
  • His scriptures are the Septuagint, which he reads as a giant coded story about Christ.

In other words, for Paul:

  • Christ is a hidden heavenly figure revealed in scripture and visions.
  • The “mystery” has just now been unveiled.

That only makes sense if there wasn’t already a widely known human teacher whose sayings and deeds were circulating everywhere.

The Silence of the Other Epistles

If it were just Paul, we could say, “That’s just Paul being weird.”

But the pattern runs across the other epistles:

From the New Testament letters outside the Gospels and Acts, you would never know:

  • Jesus was from Nazareth or born in Bethlehem
  • he grew up in Galilee
  • he taught crowds, told parables, healed people, or exorcised demons
  • he had twelve disciples, one of whom betrayed him
  • there were sacred sites tied to his life in Jerusalem

“Bethlehem,” “Nazareth,” “Galilee” do not appear in those letters with reference to Jesus. Jerusalem is never presented as, “You know, the place where all this just happened.”

The supposed “brothers of the Lord” never act like family with stories to tell. The letters attributed to James and Jude don’t even mention they’re related to Jesus.

When these early authors argue about circumcision, food laws, purity, and ethics, they consistently go back to the Old Testament…not to anything like a Sermon on the Mount.

That is very hard to reconcile with a memory of a recent, popular Galilean preacher inspiring the entire movement.


Myth #9: “Christianity Began With Jesus and His Twelve Besties”

If you grew up on Acts, you probably have this movie in your head:

  • Tiny, persecuted but unified Jesus movement
  • Centered in Jerusalem
  • Led by Jesus’ family and the Twelve
  • Paul shows up later in season two as the complex antihero

That’s the canonical story.

When you step back and read our earliest sources on their own terms, that picture melts.

Fragmented from the Start

In 1 Corinthians, Paul complains:

“Each of you says, ‘I belong to Paul,’ or ‘I belong to Apollos,’ or ‘I belong to Cephas,’ or ‘I belong to Christ.’ Is Christ divided?” (1 Cor. 1:12–13)

That’s not “one unified church.”

He also:

  • rants about people “preaching another Jesus”
  • calls rival apostles “deceitful workers,” “false brothers,” “servants of Satan”
  • invokes curses on those preaching a different gospel (Gal. 1:6–9; 2 Cor. 11)

Meanwhile, the early Christian manual Didakhē warns communities about wandering preachers who are just “traffickers in Christs” (what Bart Ehrman nicknames “Christ-mongers.”)

Right away, we see:

  • multiple groups using the Christ label
  • competing versions of what “the gospel” even is
  • no sign of one tight central group everyone agrees on

Different Jesuses for Different Communities

By the time the Gospels and later texts are in circulation, we can already see:

  • Paul’s Christ: a cosmic, heavenly savior, revealed in scripture and visions, ruling spiritual realms
  • Thomasine Christ: in the Gospel of Thomas, salvation comes through hidden wisdom; there’s no crucifixion or resurrection narrative
  • Mark’s Jesus: a suffering, misunderstood Son of God who’s “adopted” at baptism and abandoned at the cross
  • John’s Jesus: the eternal Logos, present at creation, walking around announcing his unity with the Father
  • Hebrews’ Christ: the heavenly High Priest performing a sacrifice in a heavenly sanctuary

These are not just “different camera angles on the same historical guy.” They reflect:

  • different liturgies
  • different cosmologies
  • different starting assumptions about who or what Christ even is

And notice: there is no clean pipeline from “this man’s twelve students carefully preserved his teachings” into this wild diversity.

Paul vs. Peter: Not a Cute Disagreement

Acts spins the Jerusalem meeting as:

  • everyone sits down
  • hashes things out
  • walks away in perfect unity

Paul’s own account (Galatians 2) is… not that:

  • he calls some of the Jerusalem people “false brothers”
  • he says they were trying to enslave believers
  • he says he “did not yield to them for a moment”
  • he treats the supposed “pillars” (Peter, James, John) as nobodies who “added nothing” to his gospel

That’s not a friendly staff meeting. That’s two rival Christianities:

  • a more Torah-observant, Jerusalem-centered Jesus-sect
  • Paul’s law-free, Gentile-mystic Christ-sect

Acts, written later, airbrushes this into harmony. The letters show how close the whole thing came to a full split.

Where Are the Twelve?

If Jesus’ twelve disciples were:

  • real,
  • the main founders of Christianity,
  • traveling around planting churches,

we’d expect:

  • lots of references to them
  • preserved teachings and letters
  • at least some reliable biographical detail

Instead:

  • the lists of the Twelve don’t agree between Gospels
  • some manuscripts can’t even settle on their names
  • outside the Gospels and Acts, the Twelve basically vanish from the first-century record

Paul:

  • never quotes “the Twelve”
  • never appeals to them as the final authority
  • treats Peter, James, John simply as rival apostles, not as Jesus’ old friends

We have no authentic writings from any of the Twelve. The later “Acts of Peter,” “Acts of Andrew,” “Acts of Thomas,” etc., are generally acknowledged to be later inventions.

The simplest explanation is not that the Twelve were historically massive and weirdly left no trace. It’s that:

  • “The Twelve” are symbolic: twelve tribes, twelve cosmic seats, twelve zodiac signs, take your pick.
  • Their names and “biographies” were built after the theology, not before.

The Kenosis Hymn: Jesus as a Title, Not a Birth Name

In Philippians 2, Paul quotes an early hymn:

“Being found in human form, he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death — death on a cross.
Therefore God highly exalted him
and gave him the name that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow…”

Notice:

  • The hymn does not say God gave him the title “Lord.”
  • It says God gave him the name Jesus after the exaltation.

That is not what you expect if “Jesus” was already the known name of a village carpenter from Nazareth. It makes a lot more sense if:

  • “Jesus” functions originally as a divine name for a savior figure (“Yahweh saves”),
  • assigned in the mythic story after his cosmic act,
  • and only later gets retrofitted as the everyday name of a human hero.

Mark: From Mystery Faith to “Biography”

All of this funnels into the earliest Gospel: Mark.

Mark announces up front that he’s writing a gospel, not a biography. Modern scholars have shown that Mark:

  • builds scenes out of Old Testament passages
  • mirrors patterns from Greek epics
  • structures the story like a giant parable, where insiders are given “the mystery of the kingdom,” and outsiders only get stories

In Mark’s own framework, Jesus speaks in parables so that many will see but not understand. The whole Gospel plays that way: symbolic narrative first, later read as straight history once the church gains power.

So did Christianity “begin with Jesus and his apostles”?

If by that you mean:

One coherent movement, founded by a famous rabbi with twelve close disciples, faithfully transmitted from Jerusalem outward…

Then no. That’s the myth.

What we actually see is:

  • multiple competing Jesuses
  • rival gospels and factions
  • no clear paper trail from “Jesus’ inner circle”
  • later authors stitching together a cleaned-up origin story and branding rivals as “heresy”

Biographies came after belief, not before.


Myth #10: “Christianity Was a Miraculous Overnight Success That Changed the World”

The standard Christian flex goes like this:

“No mere myth could have spread so fast and changed the world so profoundly. That proves Jesus was real.”

Let’s slow that down.

But before we even touch the growth rates, we need to name something obvious that apologists conveniently forget:

Christianity wasn’t the first tradition built around a dying-and-rising savior. Not even close.

Long before the Gospels were written, the ancient Near East had already produced fully developed resurrection myths. One of the oldest (and one of the most important) belonged to Inanna, the Sumerian Queen of Heaven.

Ancient Akkadian cylinder seal (2350–2150 BCE) depicting Inanna

Inanna’s Descent (c. 2000–3000 BCE) is the earliest recorded resurrection narrative in human history.

She descends into the Underworld, is stripped, judged, executed, hung on a hook, and then through divine intervention, is brought back to life and restored to her throne.

Learn more about the story of Inanna here.

This story predates Christianity by two thousand years and was well known across Mesopotamia.

In other words:

The idea that a divine figure dies, descends into darkness, and returns transformed was already ancient before Christianity was even born.

So, the claim that “no myth could spread unless it were historically real” falls apart immediately. Myths did spread. Myths do spread. Myths shaped entire civilizations long before Jesus entered the story.

Now (with that context in place) let’s actually talk about Christianity’s growth..

Christianities Stayed Small…. Until Politics Changed

Carrier’s modeling makes it clear:

  • even if you start with generous numbers (say 5,000 believers in 40 CE),
  • you still don’t get anywhere near a significant percentage of the Empire until well into the third century

And that includes all groups who believed in some form of Christ — including the later-branded “heretics.”

So, for the first ~250 years, Christianity:

  • is tiny
  • is fragmented
  • is one cult among many in a very crowded religious landscape

The “miracle” is not early explosive growth. It’s what happens when their tiny, disciplined network suddenly gets access to empire-level power.

Rome Falls; Christianity Rises

Fitzgerald is right that Christianity benefitted from Rome’s third-century crisis:

  • chronic civil wars
  • inflation and currency debasement
  • border instability and barbarian incursions
  • trade networks breaking down
  • urban life contracting

As conditions worsened:

  • Christianity’s disdain for “worldly” culture
  • its emphasis on endurance, suffering, and heavenly reward
  • its growing bishop-led structure and charity networks

…all became more attractive to the poor and dispossessed.

“It was a mark of Constantine’s political genius … that he realized it was better to utilize a religion … that already had a well‑established structure of authority … rather than exclude it as a hindrance.” Charles Freeman, The Closing of the Western Mind: The Rise of Faith & the Fall of Reason  

But there’s a step many historians including Fitzgerald often underplay:

How Christianity destroyed the classical world.

From Tolerated to Favored to Tyrannical

A quick timeline:

  • 313-Constantine legalizes Christianity (Edict of Milan). Christianity is now allowed, not official. Constantine still honors Sol Invictus and dies as a pagan emperor who also patronized bishops.
  • 4th century– Christian bishops gain wealth and political leverage. Imperial funds start flowing to churches. Pagan temples begin to be looted or repurposed.
  • 380– Emperor Theodosius I issues the Edict of Thessalonica: Nicene Christianity becomes the official state religion.
  • 395 and after– Laws begin banning pagan sacrifices and temple worship. Pagan rites become crimes.

Catherine Nixey’s The Darkening Age and Charles Freeman’s The Closing of the Western Mind document how this looked on the ground:

  • temples closed, looted, or destroyed
  • statues smashed
  • libraries and shrines burned
  • philosophers harassed, exiled, or killed
  • non-Christian rites criminalized

Christianity didn’t “persuade” its way to exclusive dominance. It:

  • received funding and legal favor
  • then helped outlaw and dismantle its competition

That is not a moral judgment; it’s just how imperial religions behave.

The “Overnight Success” That Took Centuries and a State

So was Christianity a new, radically different, overnight success?

  • Not new: it recycled the son-of-god savior pattern, sacred meals, initiation, and rebirth themes common in the religious world around it. Even early church fathers admitted the similarities and blamed them on Satan “counterfeiting” Christianity in advance.
  • Not overnight: it stayed statistically tiny for generations.
  • Not purely spiritual success: it became powerful when emperors needed an obedient, centralized religious hierarchy to stabilize a collapsing state.

Christianity didn’t “win” because its evidence was overwhelming.

It won because:

  • it fit the needs of late-imperial politics
  • it built a strong internal hierarchy
  • it could supply social services
  • its leaders were willing to suppress, outlaw, and overwrite rival traditions

This is not unique. It’s a textbook case of how state-backed religions spread.


Why the Pushback Always Sounds the Same

After Part One, my comment sections turned into Groundhog Day:

  • “You’re ignoring Tacitus and Josephus!”
  • “Every serious scholar agrees Jesus existed.”
  • “Archaeology proves the Bible.”
  • “There are 25,000 manuscripts.”
  • “Paul met Jesus’ brother!”
  • “If Jesus wasn’t real, who started Christianity?”
  • “Ancient critics never denied his existence — checkmate.”
  • “You just hate religion.”
  • “This is misinformation.”

Different usernames. Same script.

This is where Neil Van Leeuwen’s work on religious credences helps:

  • Factual beliefs are supposed to track evidence. If you show me credible new data, I update.
  • Religious credences function differently: they’re tied to identity, community, and morality. Their job isn’t to track facts; it’s to hold the group together.

So when you challenge Jesus’ historicity, you’re not just questioning an ancient figure. You’re touching:

  • “Who am I?”
  • “Who are my people?”
  • “What makes my life meaningful?”

No wonder people come in hot.

That doesn’t make them stupid or evil. It just means the conversation isn’t really about Tacitus. It’s about identity maintenance.


Now Let’s Turn the Lens on Mythicism (Yes, Including Fitzgerald)

Here’s where I want to be very clear:

  • I am a mythicist.
  • I do not think the Jesus of the Gospels ever existed as a historical person.

But mythicism itself doesn’t get a free pass.

Carrier’s Probability Model: When Someone Actually Does the Math

Most debates about Jesus collapse into appeals to authority. Richard Carrier’s On the Historicity of Jesus at least does something different: it quantifies the evidence.

Using Bayesian reasoning, he argues roughly:

  • about a 1 in 3 prior probability that there was a “minimal historical Jesus”– a real Jewish teacher who got executed and inspired a movement
  • about 2 in 3 for a “minimal mythicist” origin– a celestial figure whose story later got historicized

Then, after weighing the actual evidence (Paul’s silence, the late Gospels, contradictions, etc.), he argues the probability of a historical Jesus drops further, to something like 1 in 12.

You don’t have to agree with his exact numbers to see the point:

  • Once you treat the sources like data, not dogma, the overconfident “of course Jesus existed, you idiot” stance looks a lot less justified.

O’Neill’s Critique of Fitzgerald: Atheist vs Atheist

Tim O’Neill, an atheist historian, wrote a long piece on Fitzgerald’s Nailed and does not hold back. His basic charges:

  • Fitzgerald oversells weak arguments
  • cherry-picks and misuses sources
  • ignores mainstream scholarship where it contradicts him
  • frames mythicism as bold truth vs. “apologist cowards,” which is just another tribal narrative

When Fitzgerald responded, he didn’t do so like someone doing serious historical work. He responded like an internet keyboard warrior.

And that same ideological vibe shows up in how he talks about people in general, which I said in the beginning.

Atheism as New Orthodoxy

The more time I spend watching atheist and deconstruction spaces online, the more obvious it becomes that a lot of these folks didn’t escape religion, they just changed uniforms. They swapped their church pews for Reddit threads, pastors for science influencers, and now “logic” is their new scripture.
Ya feel me?
It’s the same emotional energy: tribal validation, purity tests–like what do you believe or think about this? And the constant hunt for heretics who dare to ask inconvenient questions.

Say something even slightly outside the approved dogma…like pointing out that evolution (calm down, Darwin disciples) still has gaps and theoretical edges we haven’t fully nailed down and suddenly the comment section becomes the Inquisition.
They defend the theory with the exact same fervor evangelicals defend the Book of Revelation.
It’s wild.

And look, I’m all for science. I’m literally the girl who reads academic papers for funsies.
But when atheists start treating evolution like a sacred cow that can’t be questioned, or acting like “reason” is this perfect, unbiased tool that magically supports all their existing beliefs… that’s not skepticism. That’s a new orthodoxy, dressed up as a freethinker.
Different vocabulary, same psychology.
Good gravy, baby— calm down.

and….here’s the uncomfortable truth a lot of atheists don’t want to hear:

Reason isn’t the savior they think it is.

French cognitive scientists Hugo Mercier and Dan Sperber have spent years studying how humans actually use reason and prepare yourself because: we don’t use it the way we think. Their research shows that reason didn’t evolve to help us discover truth. It evolved to help us win arguments, protect our identities, and persuade members of our group.

In other words:

  • confirmation bias isn’t a flaw
  • motivated reasoning isn’t a glitch
  • tribal loyalty isn’t an accident

They are features of the reasoning system.

Which is why people who worship “logic” often behave exactly like the religious communities they left… just with new vocabulary and a different set of heretics.

This is also why intellectual diversity matters so much. You cannot reason your way to truth inside an ideological monoculture. Your brain simply won’t let you. Without competing perspectives, reasoning becomes nothing more than rhetorical self-defense, a way to signal loyalty to the tribe while pretending to be above it.

John Stuart Mill understood this long before modern cognitive science confirmed it. In On Liberty, Mill argues that truth isn’t something we protect by silencing dissent. Truth emerges through friction, through the clash of differing perspectives. A community that prides itself on “rational superiority” but cannot tolerate disagreement becomes just another church with a different hymnal.

And that’s where many atheist and deconstruction spaces are now.

They haven’t transcended dogma.
They’ve recreated it. Trading one orthodoxy for another.

This isn’t just about online atheists. This is about what happens when any movement stops questioning itself.


Challenging the Mythicist Side (Without Turning It Into Another Tribe)

Let’s get honest about the mythicist world too — because every camp has its blind spots.

Tim O’Neill’s critique of David Fitzgerald wasn’t just angry rhetoric. Strip away the insults, and he raises a few legitimate issues worth taking seriously:

1. Accusation of Agenda-Driven History

O’Neill argues that Fitzgerald starts with the conclusion “Jesus didn’t exist” and works backward, much like creationists do with Genesis.

Now Fitzgerald absolutely denies this. In his own words, he didn’t go looking for mythicism; mythicism found him when he started examining the evidence. And that’s fair.

But the deeper point still stands:

The mythicist movement can get so emotionally invested in debunking Christianity that it mirrors the very dogmatism it critiques.

You see this all over atheist spaces today — endless dunking, no nuance, purity tests, and very little actual curiosity.

That’s a valid critique.

2. Amateurism and Overreach

O’Neill also accuses Fitzgerald of relying too heavily on older scholarship, making confident claims where the evidence is thin, and occasionally overstating consensus.

Again — not entirely wrong.
Fitzgerald’s book is sharp and compelling, but it’s not the cutting-edge end of mythicism anymore.

There are places where he simplifies. There are places where he speculates.

This matters because mythicism deserves better than overconfident shortcuts.

3. Fitzgerald doesn’t push far enough

And ironically, this is where I diverge from O’Neill entirely. He thinks Fitzgerald goes too far; I think Fitzgerald stops too soon.

There are areas where the mythicist case has advanced beyond Fitzgerald’s framework, and he doesn’t touch them:

• The possibility that “Paul” himself is a literary construct

Nina Livesey and other scholars argue that:

  • The Pauline voice may be a 2nd-century invention.
  • The letters reflect Roman rhetorical conventions, not authentic 1st-century correspondence.
  • The “apostle Paul” may be a theological persona used to unify competing sects.

Fitzgerald doesn’t address this— but it’s now one of the most provocative frontiers in the field.

• The geopolitical legacy of Abrahamic supremacy

Fitzgerald critiques Christian nationalism. Great.
But he doesn’t go upstream to examine the deeper architecture:

How Abrahamic identity claims shaped law, land, empire, and modern geopolitics.

Abrahamic Power Isn’t Just Christian. Almost nobody looks at the broader landscape of Abrahamic influence in American politics and global power structures.

Once you zoom out, the picture gets a lot more complicated— and a LOT more revealing.

1. The Mormon Church Is a Financial Superpower

Most Americans have no idea how wealthy the LDS Church actually is.

The Mormon Church’s real estate & investment arm, Ensign Peak Advisors, was exposed in 2019 and again in 2023 for managing a secret portfolio now estimated at:

👉 $150–$200 billion

(Source: SEC filings, whistleblower leaks, Wall Street Journal)

To compare:

  • PepsiCo market cap: ~$175B
  • ExxonMobil (oil giant): ~$420B
  • Disney: ~$160B

Meaning:

📌 The LDS Church is financially on par with Pepsi and Disney, and not far behind Big Oil.

This is not a “church.” This is an empire.

And it invests strategically:

  • massive real estate acquisitions
  • agricultural control
  • media companies
  • political lobbying
  • funding influence networks

And let’s be clear:
Mormons see themselves as a literal remnant of Israel (the last tribe) destined to help rule the Earth “in the last days.”

Which brings us to…

2. Mormonism’s Quiet Partnership with the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR)

NAR is the movement behind the so-called “Seven Mountain Mandate”— the belief that Christians must seize control of:

  1. Government
  2. Education
  3. Media
  4. Arts & Entertainment
  5. Business
  6. Religion
  7. Family

This is the backbone of Christian nationalism and it’s far more organized than people realize. But here’s the part that never gets discussed:

Mormon elites collaborate with NAR leadership behind the scenes.

Shared goals:

  • influence over U.S. political leadership
  • shaping national morality laws
  • preparing for a prophetic “kingdom age”
  • embedding power in those seven spheres

This isn’t fringe. This is the largest religious–political coalition in the country, and yet most journalists never touch it.

3. The Ziklag Group: A $25M-Minimum Christian Power Circle

You want to talk about “elite networks”?

Meet Ziklag: an ultra-exclusive Christian organization named after King David’s biblical stronghold. Requirements for membership: a minimum net worth of $25 million Their mission?
Not charity. Not discipleship.

Influence the Seven Mountains of society at the highest levels.

Members include:

  • CEOs
  • hedge-fund managers
  • defense contractors
  • political donors
  • tech founders

Including the billionaire Uihlein family, who made a fortune in office supplies, the Greens, who run Hobby Lobby, and the Wallers, who own the Jockey apparel corporation. Recipients of Ziklag’s largesse include Alliance Defending Freedom, which is the Christian legal group that led the overturning of Roe v. Wade, plus the national pro-Trump group Turning Point USA and a constellation of right-of-center advocacy groups.

AND YET…

Most people yelling about “Christian nationalism” have never even heard of Ziklag.

4. Meanwhile, Chabad-Lubavitch Has Met with Every U.S. President Since 1978

Evangelical influence isn’t the only Abrahamic power Americans ignore.

Chabad (a Hasidic cult with global reach) has:

  • direct access to every U.S. president
  • annual White House proclamations (“Education & Sharing Day”) explicitly honor a religious leader as a moral authority over the nation.
  • a network of emissaries (shluchim) embedded in power centers around the world

This is influence, not conspiracy.

This is religious lobbying at the highest level of government, treated as unremarkable simply because the public doesn’t understand it.

See the Pattern Yet?

When people say “Christian nationalism,” they’re talking about one branch of a much older tree.

Christianity isn’t the problem. Atheism isn’t the solution.

The issue is Abrahamic supremacy: the belief that one sacred lineage has the right to rule, legislate, moralize, and define history for everyone else.

Across denominations, across continents, across political parties, the pattern is the same:

  • chosen-people narratives
  • divine-right entitlement
  • mythic land claims
  • sacred-tier influence operations
  • the blending of theology with statecraft

“Groupish belief systems that justify valuing one’s group above others must be inventable.”
Religion as Make-Believe.

Exactly.

These power structures aren’t ancient relics. They’re alive, wealthy, organized, and deeply embedded in American political life. And yet we’re told to panic exclusively about MAGA Christians…
while studiously ignoring:

  • Mormon financial empires
  • NAR infiltration of U.S. political offices
  • Zionist influence networks
  • Chabad’s presidential pipeline
  • elite Christian dominionist groups like Ziklag

This isn’t about blaming individuals.

It’s about naming systems. Because if we’re going to talk honestly about orthodoxy, myth, and power…

we need to talk about all of it— not just the parts that are fashionable to critique.

4. Mythicism still hasn’t grappled with empire

Most mythicist writing stops at:
“Jesus didn’t exist.”

Cool. Now what? The real question is:

HOW? How did a mythical figure become the operating system for Western civilization?

So, here’s where I actually land:

Christianity didn’t emerge from a single man.
It emerged from competing myths, political incentives, scriptural remixing, imperial needs, and evolving group identities.

And if that makes me someone who doesn’t quite fit in the Christian world, the atheist world, or the deconstruction world? Perfect. My loyalty is to the question, not the tribe. That’s exactly where I plan to stay.

That’s exactly where I plan to stay.

aaaand as always, maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in. 🎙️🔒


Footnotes

1. Jodi Magness, Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit (Eerdmans, 2011).

Archaeologist specializing in 1st-century Judea; emphasizes that archaeology illuminates daily life, but cannot confirm Jesus’ existence or Gospel events.

2. Eric M. Meyers & Mark A. Chancey, Archaeology, the Rabbis, and Early Christianity (Baker Academic, 2012).

Shows how archaeology supports context, not Gospel narrative details.

3. Steve Mason, Josephus and the New Testament, 2nd ed. (Hendrickson, 2003).

Explains why the Testimonium Flavianum is partially or heavily interpolated and cannot serve as independent confirmation of Jesus.

4. Alice Whealey, “The Testimonium Flavianum in Syriac and Arabic,” New Testament Studies 54.4 (2008): 573–590.

Analyzes manuscript traditions showing Christian editing of Josephus.

5. Louis Feldman, “Josephus,” Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 3 (Yale University Press, 1992).

Standard reference summarizing scholarly consensus about the unreliable portions of Josephus’ Jesus passages.

6. Brent Shaw, “The Myth of the Neronian Persecution,” Journal of Roman Studies 105 (2015): 73–100.

Shows Tacitus likely repeats Christian stories, not archival Roman data, making him a witness to Christian belief — not Jesus’ historicity.

7. Pliny the Younger, Epistles 10.96–97.

Earliest Roman description of Christian worship; confirms Christians existed, not that Jesus did.

8. Bart D. Ehrman, Misquoting Jesus (HarperOne, 2005).

Explains why New Testament manuscripts contain thousands of variations, with no originals surviving.

9. Dennis R. MacDonald, The Homeric Epics and the Gospel of Mark (Yale University Press, 2000).

Argues Mark intentionally modeled episodes on Homeric motifs — supporting literary construction rather than eyewitness reporting.

10. Attridge, Harold W., The Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia Commentary Series).

Shows how Hebrews relies on celestial priesthood imagery and makes no connection to a recent earthly Jesus, even when opportunities are obvious.

11. Earl Doherty, The Jesus Puzzle (1999).

Early mythicist argument emphasizing the epistles’ lack of biographical Jesus data.

12. Richard Carrier, On the Historicity of Jesus (Sheffield Phoenix, 2014).

Presents a Bayesian model estimating mythicist origins as more probable than historicity.

13. Richard Carrier, Proving History (Prometheus, 2012).

Explains the historical method he uses for evaluating Jesus traditions.

14. Paula Fredriksen, From Jesus to Christ (Yale University Press, 2000).

Demonstrates the pluralism and fragmentation within earliest Christianity.

15. Burton Mack, The Christian Myth: Origins, Logic, and Legacy (Continuum, 2006).

Describes the emergence of various Jesus traditions as literary and theological constructions.

16. Clayton N. Jefford, The Didache (Fortress Press).

Analyzes early church manual revealing “wandering prophets,” factionalism, and market-style competition among early Jesus groups.

17. Catherine Nixey, The Darkening Age (Macmillan, 2017).

Documents the destruction of pagan culture under Christian imperial dominance.

18. Charles Freeman, The Closing of the Western Mind (Vintage, 2005).

Explores how Christian orthodoxy displaced classical philosophy.

19. Ramsay MacMullen, Christianizing the Roman Empire (Yale University Press, 1984).

Shows Christianity expanded primarily through imperial power, incentives, and legislation, not mass persuasion.

20. H.A. Drake, Constantine and the Bishops (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2002).

Outlines Constantine’s political use of Christianity and the shift toward enforced orthodoxy.

21. Peter Brown, The Rise of Western Christendom (Wiley-Blackwell, 2013).

Provides context for how Christianity overtook the Roman religious landscape.

22. Neil Van Leeuwen, “Religious Credence Is Not Factual Belief,” Cognition 133 (2014): 698–715.

Explains why religious commitments behave like identity markers, not evidence-responsive beliefs.

23. Whitney Phillips, This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things (MIT Press, 2015).

Useful for understanding modern online purity culture dynamics, relevant to atheist-internet behavior discussed in your commentary section.

24. Joseph Reagle, Reading the Comments (MIT Press, 2015).

Analyzes comment-section behavior and ideological enforcement online.

25. Tim O’Neill, “Easter, the Existence of Jesus, and Dave Fitzgerald,” History for Atheists (2017).

Atheist historian critiquing Fitzgerald’s methodological errors, exaggerated claims, and misuse of sources.

26. Raphael Lataster, Questioning the Historicity of Jesus (Brill, 2019).

Secular academic arguing mythicism is plausible but insisting on higher methodological rigor than many popularizers use.

27. Richard Carrier, various blog critiques of Fitzgerald (2012–2019).

Carrier agrees with mythicism but critiques Fitzgerald for overstatement and inadequate source control.

When Morality Binds and Blinds: Lessons from Charlie Kirk’s Death

Hey hey my friends, welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays. Today’s episode is going to be heavier than usual, because I want to process something that has been shaking me to my core over the past week, the brutal death of Charlie Kirk.

Now, I need to start here: I did not agree with Charlie on everything, especially not his theology. You know me, I don’t subscribe to the idea that morality begins and ends with the Abrahamic scriptures. That’s a hard pass. But I also can’t deny the impact Charlie had on me. I spent years watching him debate, learning from the way he sharpened his arguments and stayed composed with people he deeply disagreed with. He’s one of the people who actually inspired me to study the Constitution, socialism, and to pay more attention to what’s happening politically.

So when I heard he was brutally murdered, I cried. It was horrific. And then, when I looked online and saw people celebrating his death? Saying he deserved it because he was a white, conservative, Christian man? That was gutting. Not just emotionally but morally. 

In fact, let me show you a comment I received. This person told me she couldn’t believe I was mourning the death of a Trump supporter, that he had ‘spewed so much,’ and then announced she was unfollowing and blocking me.

That’s the climate we’re in. Not just disagreement, but outright dehumanization.

That kind of reaction, the dancing-on-the-grave energy, it’s not just tasteless. It’s a reflection of how far moral tribalism has gone. She is a perfect example of what I saw when I was navigating ex-Christian and ex-evangelical spaces. It is the same trend there: conservatives painted as villains, ridiculed, dismissed, treated as less-than. 

Folks in my parasocial networks would send me podcasts or Instagram pages that were just openly disrespectful and overgeneralizing, like mocking anyone who leaned right was simply part of the healing process. And I remember sitting there thinking… how are you even friends with me if you despise people like me so much?

It’s like the hatred is so baked into the zeitgeist, people don’t even notice they’re doing it.

I’ve already done an episode on the radical left and why I left the left in 2020. Back then I saw the extremism ramping up with Black Lives Matter, with pandemic policies, and yes, with those shocking poll results in 2022, where a significant portion of Democrats said they believed unvaccinated people should have their kids taken away or even be put into camps. 

https://www.rasmussenreports.com/public_content/politics/partner_surveys/jan_2022/covid_19_democratic_voters_support_harsh_measures_against_unvaccinated?

That was the moment I realized this wasn’t just about public health.  It was about authoritarianism cloaked in moral righteousness.

And I want to tie that moment to this moment. Because what we’re seeing with Charlie Kirk’s death is the exact same kind of moral righteousness, just flipped.

This is where Jonathan Haidt’s book The Righteous Mind comes in and yall know I bring this book up a lot, but today it’s essential. 

Haidt’s big idea is that morality isn’t one single thing. It’s made up of six different foundations, like taste buds of the moral sense. Let me walk you through them:

  1. Care vs. Harm – the instinct to protect others from suffering. Progressives tend to emphasize this one the most.
  2. Fairness vs. Cheating – concern for justice, reciprocity, equal treatment. Again, heavily weighted on the left.
  3. Loyalty vs. Betrayal – valuing group solidarity, patriotism, belonging. This resonates more on the right.
  4. Authority vs. Subversion – respect for tradition, leadership, order. Again, more prominent for conservatives.
  5. Sanctity vs. Degradation – ideas of purity, sacredness, things that must not be defiled. Religion is one form, but health and nature can trigger it too. Conservatives score higher here, but you see progressives activate it around food purity or environmentalism.
  6. Liberty vs. Oppression – the drive to resist domination and protect freedom. This one cuts across both sides but is framed differently, the right fears big government, the left fears corporate or systemic oppression.

Now, how does this help us explain what we’re seeing?

Progressives, whose moral taste buds are dominated by Care and Fairness, look at Charlie Kirk and say, ‘He caused harm to marginalized groups, he propped up unfair systems.’ So when he died, they felt justified in celebrating. Their moral taste buds told them: this is justice.

Conservatives, on the other hand, lean more heavily on Loyalty, Authority, and Sanctity. Charlie embodied loyalty to the nation, respect for conservative traditions, and yes, defense of the sacred. So his death wasn’t just tragic, it was an attack on everything sacred to them. That’s why you’re seeing these martyrdom narratives, even AI videos of Charlie in heaven with other ‘heroes of the faith.’ It’s moral psychology in action.

👉 And this is also the perfect moment to point out the formula behind Psy-Ops. Because these martyrdom narratives aren’t just spontaneous. They follow a pattern of influence:

(Stimulus + Feeling) – Conscious Awareness × Repetition = Belief.

That’s the formula. You feed people a stimulus, in this case, AI imagery of Charlie Kirk as a martyr. You attach it to a strong feeling: grief, anger, hope. By doing so, conscious awareness is bypassed, people aren’t stopping to analyze, they’re in raw emotion. And then you repeat it over and over. Before long, it’s not just an image, it’s a belief. This is why these videos are so powerful, they’re not just content, they’re psychological conditioning.

In the book Free Your Mind, which we discussed in our previous podcast episode, Chapter 9 emphasizes the importance of getting ideas in writing—but it also highlights the unique power of images. As the book notes:

“An image tells a thousand words, and seeing is believing. You tend to be more easily persuaded by images than by words, and video is even more persuasive. On the other hand, reading leaves more breathing room for critical thinking.”

Images can define ideas and stick in our minds in ways words alone often cannot. A single powerful metaphor or visual statement can leave a lasting impression. Take Donald Trump’s political career, for example: it wasn’t only shaped by complex and abstract immigration policies, but also by concrete, visual symbols—a border wall, or the image of him standing with his fist raised, signaling defiance after the attempted assassination. Mental images grab our attention and viscerally anchor themselves in our minds. They’re persuasive tools that can move political movements forward.

Psychologists agree. This phenomenon is known as the picture superiority effect: images are far more memorable than words. In one study, participants were shown a mix of 612 images and words for six seconds each. When asked later which they recognized, 98% of the pictures were remembered, compared to just 90% of the words. Another study of news broadcasts found that only 16% of stories were remembered when heard over the radio, versus 34% when watched on television.

The takeaway? Images are not just memorable-they shape perception.

Seeing really is believing.

And here’s Haidt’s main takeaway: morality binds and blinds. Both sides feel righteous, but both sides are blinded. The left is blinded to the humanity of someone they disagreed with, so they cheer for his death. The right is blinded to pluralism and nuance, so they sanctify him and risk sliding into Christian authoritarianism.

And let’s pause here…because this rise in religious fervor is deeply concerning to me. I used to push back when people warned about Christian nationalism. I thought it was overblown. But watching Gen Z churn out martyr videos of Charlie Kirk, watching this wave of revivalist passion roll in, I can’t deny the potential for backlash anymore.

It’s not just reverence – it’s symbolism, its revivalism, its identity politics wrapped in scripture. And that’s where my alarm starts.

Take the Noahide Laws movement. People often describe it as returning to a universal moral code. On its face, sure, that sounds appealing. But when morality is rooted in a particular scripture or identity, it often becomes a tool to say: ‘these norms are non-negotiable, and dissent or spiritual alternatives are forbidden’ That’s when spirituality crosses into political power-building.

Listen to this clip from Ben Shapero on the Daily Wire.

And we’re already seeing it creep into policy. 

The administration just passed an executive order on ‘Eradicating Anti-Christian Bias.’ Protecting religious freedom is vital, yes. But there’s a difference between protecting believers from discrimination and making laws where Christian sentiment is immune from critique or satire. 

The White House posted a video mourning Charlie Kirk concluding with:

“1 Corinthians 5 and 15 provide compelling evidence (not only intrabiblical but also extrabiblical) that Jesus Christ was a real historical figure. He lived a perfect life, was crucified, rose on the third day, and is Lord and God.”

If you still don’t see how Christianity and faith in Jesus, a figure who probably never existed—is both holding this country back and enabling Zionism, it’s time to wake up.

We’ve already seen new laws against so-called antisemitism that start to look a lot like blasphemy laws. How long before similar protections are extended to Christian sentiment?

This matters because young people might get swept into this revivalist Christian / Abrahamic framework without realizing it. 

It reduces room for spiritual alternatives, for pluralism, for traditions like panpsychism or animism, worldviews that see all of reality as alive, interconnected, and worthy of respect. That feels more universal to me. Less tied to tribal texts, less prone to turning spirituality into a weapon of the state.

History has shown us that religious revivalism mixed with nationalism and state power is a dangerous cocktail. It binds, but it also blinds. And that’s why I can’t jump on board with this new wave of Abrahamic revivalism being fueled by Charlie’s death. My skepticism sharpens right here.

So here’s where I land: I grieve. I grieve for a man who influenced me. I grieve the way his life was taken. But I also grieve the way his death is being used  by some to celebrate evil, by others to canonize him into sainthood. Both sides reveal how morality binds and blinds. And if we don’t wake up to that, we’ll keep swinging between authoritarian extremes.

And I want to close with a reminder from Jonathan Haidt himself. He wrote:

“Social scientists have identified at least 3 major forces that collectively bind together successful democracies: social capital (extensive social networks with high levels of trust), strong institutions, and shared stories. We are now at the greatest level of political polarization since the 1860s. It’s more necessary than ever to return to these 3 forces in every way we can, individually and as a society.”

That’s where I want us to go. Beyond tribal stories of vengeance or martyrdom, back toward trust, strong institutions, and stories that unite rather than divide.

One of my new favorite YouTubers https://youtu.be/UQ02zhLmkTM?si=96o2gTReXl-nvClS

So, maintain your curiosity, embrace skepticism, and keep tuning in.

Further Reading & Sources

The Conversation We’re Avoiding…..

Let’s discuss what Tucker Carlson, Nick Fuentes, & The New Jerusalem Reveal About Power and Media

Hey Hey Welcome back to Taste of Truth Tuesdays.

At the end of last month, we started unpacking a big question: where does real power sit in our country? And how does understanding history & theology change the way we see what’s happening today?

Well, the timing couldn’t be more perfect, because right now there’s a viral clash unfolding that brings all those threads together in real time.

I just finished reading the book The New Jerusalem by Michael Collins Piper, which was written way back in 2004 and it discussed a lot of the same individuals and key information that Fuentes said during this 2-part attack on Tucker. The book is a deep dive into decades of political and financial influence shaping America. As I’m reading it, this public duel emerges between two of the loudest voices in the alt-right media: Tucker Carlson and Nick Fuentes. And I really appreciated what Ian Carroll had to say about the subject while he reminded us why these kinds of debates aren’t just entertainment: they’re essential for discussing the truth & the health of our nation.

This isn’t gossip or drama. It’s about understanding the invisible lines drawn around what we’re allowed to talk about, what gets filtered out, and what’s shut down. If we pay attention, this moment could help move the conversation forward in ways we desperately need.


The New Jerusalem: Mapping Influence Behind the Scenes

In our previous episode, I mentioned how I truly believe that we have been an occupied nation since 1960s and Michael Piper (author of The New Jerusalem) totally agrees. He wrote a 768 page book called The Final Judgment The missing link in the JFK Assassination Conspiracy and so that is just a whole nother rabbithole.

He also wrote a book called The High Priest of War which was the first full length work examining the little known history of the hardline pro Israel neoconservative movement which Nick Fuentes was really breaking down for us in his part two series (in particular).

It is starting to make so much sense… So I’m just trying to point you guys into resources not to propose myself as someone who can connect all the dots like Michael Collins Piper can. He traces the networks, deals, and consolidations of power that have shaped the American political and financial landscape over the last century.

It’s definitely a lot shorter and more entertaining than Whitney’s Webs books Nation Under Blackmail I couldn’t get through them to be honest with you they were so dry so if you read them mad props to you.

So, for me, what stands out is the gradual centralization of influence: from banking to media to government appointments. These connections have profound effects on policy, public opinion, and international alliances.

You know you can say connecting the dots is anti-Semitic

The esteemed Websters dictionary has now broadened the definition of antisemitism to include: “opposition to Zionism” which is definitely a lot of what I speak about and “sympathy for the opponents of Israel”.

Those two categories alone would probably include literally billions of people across the face of this planet. We need to understand that when people label folks as “white-supremacists”, “Nazi”, “antisemitic”…. you know cancel culture is over so if y’all aren’t picking up on that like do you need to go to primary sources and listen specifically to what people were saying try to read books try to listen to different sides of the story so you can grasp the truth (if you can).

This isn’t wild conspiracy. It’s a careful look at decades of patterns and documented facts (most of the sources were from Jewish resources). Our current political reality didn’t just appear by chance. It’s the product of generations of social engineering, strategic moves and powerful leverage.

Without this historical lens, it’s easy to see today’s media as an organic mess of voices. But with it, you realize just how much of what we hear (and don’t hear) is carefully shaped, and rarely talked about openly.


Tucker Carlson vs. Nick Fuentes: A Public Clash Over Boundaries

What kicked all of this off was an interview on August 1st, 2025, when Tucker Carlson sat down with Candace Owens. During that 15-minute segment, they launched a personal character attack on Nick Fuentes. The spark? Tucker claimed he didn’t know his dad was in the CIA until after his father’s death in March 2025 — a claim most of us know was a blatant lie.

That lie set off a firestorm. In response, Nick Fuentes dropped a two-part viral series on Rumble, calling out Tucker for being dishonest and, more importantly, for not pushing far enough on certain topics. Fuentes argues there are clear lines Tucker won’t cross — and those lines shape what millions of people get to hear.

Whether you agree with Fuentes or not, this public clash is rare. Usually, these kinds of disputes stay behind the scenes or get smoothed over. But this time, it’s happening in front of us, giving the audience a rare look at the invisible boundaries of public discourse — the unspoken rules about what topics are “safe” and which ones are off limits.

Once you notice those lines, it’s natural to ask: who drew them? And why?

If you want to see the full exchange and judge for yourself, Nick Fuentes’ two-part response is available on Rumble:

Watching these gives a clearer picture of why this clash has grabbed so much attention and why the boundaries of public discourse matter now more than ever.


Now, this ties into something I’ve been noticing from some corners of the conversation: people who’ve moved away from Protestant Church and embraced Orthodox Christianity, rightly pushing back against things like Zionism and dispensationalism.

On our last episode, I talked about how it’s not just dispensationalism or the Schofield Bible fueling this whole machine — it’s that Christianity itself is built on Jewish roots.

“Inside ever Christian is a Jew” —Pope Francis (June 16, 2014)

Reading from The Jesus Hoax:

Consider, first of all, the ancient origins of Judaism and the corresponding events of the Old Testament (OT) otherwise known as the Jewish (or Hebrew Bible). The original Patriarch, Abraham, (originally called ‘Abram’—strange how so many people in the Bible have two names), allegedly lived sometime between 1800 and 1500 BC; he was the traditional father of not only Judaism and thus Christianity but centuries later, of Islam as well. Thus, one sometimes reads that Judaism, Christianity and Islam are all viewed as the “Abrahamic” religions.

Simply put: Christians believe in a Jewish God, read Jewish Scriptures, and worship a Jewish rabbi. If you take those origin stories as literal history, you’re often reinforcing the very narratives that prop up modern Zionism.

But here’s where my beef 🥩comes in: In a recent clip, one such voice claimed that Jesus wasn’t really a Jew — just ‘an Israelite from Judah’ — as if that somehow changes His identity or the core of the faith. Here is the clip:

That’s a common but misleading narrative.

Reading from The Jesus Hoax:

What’s in a Name: Hebrew, Israelite or Jew?

This is a good point to take a short detour to explain some very relevant terminology Much confusion exists around three apparently interchangeable terms Hebrew Israelite and Jew. In the book of Genesis 14:13 Abram/Abraham is the first referred to as the “Hebrew”—a term of ambiguous origin and no clear meaning. Regardless, Abraham was the original “Hebrew”, and this designation came to be attached to his son Isaac (but not Ishmael) and to Isaac’s son Jacob (but not Esau) and to Jacob’s 12th sons and their descendants—all of whom would be called “Hebrews”

The term “Israel” as noted above, has been in existence since at least 1200 BC. In Hebrew language, “Israel” means ‘he who strives with God’, and thus is a term of honor. It first appears in the BIble in Genesis 32:28 when Jacob is renamed Israel. Therefore, Jacob and his 12 sons and all their heirs are called Israelites.

But what about ‘Jew’? We See above that one of Jacob’s 12 sons was Judah-or in Hebrew, Jehudah. Judah was Jacob/Israel’s 4th son, but as it turns out, the first three (Reuben, Simeon and Levi) ended up in his disfavor and so Judah takes a leading role. Speaking to his sons, Jacob says: Genesis 49:10

8 Judah,b your brothers shall praise you.

Your hand shall be on the necks of your enemies;

your father’s sons shall bow down to you.

9Judah is a young lion—

my son, you return from the prey.

Like a lion he crouches and lies down;

like a lioness, who dares to rouse him?

10The scepter will not depart from Judah,

nor the staff from between his feet,c

until Shilohd comes

This idea that Jesus wasn’t a Jew feels more like a way to cope or sidestep with the uncomfortable historical and theological realities than a true insight. And it’s important to recognize when narratives intended to clarify actually end up muddying the waters…..

Any case, as the 12 tribes and their descendants became established in Palestine, the 10 northern-most tribes became known as ‘Israel’ and the southern-most two, as ‘Judah.’ At some point, the ‘man of Judah’ or descendant of Judah’ became a Yehudia Jew.

After the Babylonian exile and return (597 to 538 BC), the 12 tribes became known collectively as both ‘Israel’ and ‘men of Judah’ or Yehu-dim. We see a variation on this term appear on a coin minted around 120 BC, with the word Hayehudim (“of Judah” or “of the Jews”). Yehudi, or plural Yehudim, appear several times in the OT; typically this is translated into English as ‘Jew’ or ‘Jews’., although sometimes as ‘man of Judah’

The first appearance is in 2 Kings (16:6 and 25:25), and then several times later in Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, Jeremiah, Daniel (twice), and Zecharia (8:23). ‘Jew’ is not in the first five books (Pentateuch) like He-brew’ and ‘Israel’ are, which suggests that it is not quite as ancient within Jewish culture; but still, its presence throughout the remainder of the OT shows its importance to the Jewish authors, who, of course, were writing strictly to a Jewish audience. When Jews were writing to their fellow Jews, they had no compunction about using the word ‘Jew.’

As the OT spread into Greek and (later) Latin culture, Yehudi became translated as Ioudaios and Iudaeus, respectively. The Latin term lost its ‘d’ when moving into the region of modern-day France, and the people there created a contracted version, giu. This then worked its way into Old English around the year 1000, where it took a variety of forms:

Gyu, Giu, lew, luu, and so on. By the late 1300s, Chaucer was using the word Jewes. And by the late 1500s, playwrights like Marlowe and Shakespeare were writing, simply, ‘Jews.’

So, the 12 tribes became the nation of Israel, but after exile and time, the term “Jew” came to specifically mean someone from the tribe of Judah or the people of that southern kingdom.


Let’s set the record straight: The Orthodox tradition affirms that Jesus was Jewish by both lineage and practice. For example, the OrthodoxWiki notes that Jesus is the Messiah prophesied by Jewish prophets, and the Gospel of Matthew is written especially for a Jewish audience, emphasizing His fulfillment of Jewish prophecy.

The Orthodox Church in America points out that Jesus was the long-awaited Jewish Messiah, who lived fully within the Jewish covenant community — even though some of His contemporaries refused to recognize Him as such. Orthodox catechism reminds us that Jesus’ divine incarnation took place in a fully human, Jewish context.

Historical records in the Gospels show Jesus was born of the tribe of Judah, descended from David, circumcised according to Jewish law, and faithfully observed Jewish festivals and customs. He taught in synagogues and affirmed the Torah and the Prophets (Luke 4:16; John 7:2, 10; Matthew 5:17–18).

That’s why I’m bringing on Dr. David Skrbina, author of The Jesus Hoax, in an upcoming episode. Because when you start questioning who Jesus really was — beyond the narratives handed down or pushed by certain agendas — you begin to see how much history, theology, and culture have been carefully shaped. And as with political power and media, the truth often lives just beyond the boundaries we’re allowed to explore.

Why This Moment Matters

This isn’t just about one book, or two media figures, or a particular platform. It’s a rare opening — a crack in the matrix — that lets us see where conversation gets shut down, and maybe even push those limits back.

Agree or disagree with Piper, Fuentes, or Carlson… that’s your right. But the bigger question remains: who decides what’s okay to say? And if those decisions are made without our awareness, how free are we really?

That question feels especially urgent today, as laws around hate speech and anti-Semitism shape what can be discussed publicly — in ways that limit honest dialogue. Efforts like DEI programs aimed at protecting Jewish students completely contradict how most conservatives feel about identity politics.

My hope is that we take this moment seriously. We stop treating these boundaries as natural or unchangeable. We start asking who benefits from keeping the conversation so tightly controlled — and whether that control is helping or harming our society.

Because once you see where the conversation ends, you realize how much more there is beyond — and often, that’s where the truth really lives.

When “Helping the Homeless” Becomes a Trojan Horse

Why Trump’s new executive order deserves close scrutiny

President Trump signed an executive order on July 24, 2025, calling on states and cities to clear homeless encampments and expand involuntary psychiatric treatment, framed as a move to improve public safety and compassion

At first glance, it seems reasoned: address the homelessness crisis in many progressive cities, restore order, & help those with severe mental illness. But when I read it closely, and the language….phrases like “untreated mental illness,” “public nuisance,” and “at risk of harm”is vague enough, subjective enough, and feels ripe for misuse 😳

This goes beyond homelessness. It marks a shift toward normalizing forced institutionalization, a trend with deep roots in American psychiatric history.

We explored this dark legacy in a recent episode, Beneath the White Coats 🥼 and if you listened to that episode, you’ll know that

compulsory commitment isn’t new.

Historically, psychiatric institutions in the U.S. served not just medical needs but social control. Early 20th-century asylums housed the poor, the racially marginalized, and anyone deemed “unfit.”

The International Congress of Eugenics’ Logo 1921

The eugenics movement wasn’t a fringe ideology….it was supported by mainstream medical groups, state law, and psychiatry. Forced sterilization, indefinite confinement, and ambiguous diagnoses like “moral defectiveness” were justified under the guise of public health.

Now, an executive order gives local governments incentives (and of course funding 💰 is always tied to compliance) to loosen involuntary commitment laws and redirect funding to those enforcing anti-camping and drug-use ordinances instead of harm reduction programs

Once states rewrite their laws to align with the order’s push toward involuntary treatment and if “public nuisance” or “mental instability” are to be interpreted broadly…

Now, you don’t have to be homeless to be at risk. A public disturbance, a call from a neighbor, even a refusal to comply with treatment may trigger involuntary confinement.

Is it just me, or does this feel like history is repeating?

We’ve seen where badly defined psychiatric authority leads: disproportionate targeting, loss of civil rights, and institutionalization justified as compassion. Today’s executive order could enable a similar expansion of psychiatric control.

So.. what do you think? Is this just a homelessness policy? or is it another slippery slope?

Tier by Tier: How the Left Radicalizes Its Own

A conversation with Karlyn Borysenko on why understanding the Left’s internal factions matters now more than ever.

Welcome back to Taste Test Thursday—my bonus series (or maybe just another excuse to drop a second episode mid-week 😉)

Prelude to Collapse: The War Within

Anti-ICE riots, open declarations of war, and the revolution you’re not supposed to notice….

Thanks for reading Taste of Truth! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.

Before we dive into today’s main topic, I have to share something with yall.

Here’s the tea you might have missed: Simone Biles, once the queen of female athleticism, just decided to throw female athletes under the bus. She went scorched-earth on Riley Gaines—a woman who had the nerve to say basic biology matters in sports.

Simone’s stance? Basically, “Step aside, ladies. Men who say they’re women get to play too. Deal with it.”

Yeah, that crushed a lot of dreams. Every young girl who looked up to Simone for grit and talent got served a big, ugly dose of woke betrayal instead.

But wait, the drama didn’t stop there. The comment sections exploded with some of the wildest, most ridiculous takes you’ll ever see:

People claimed things like:

  • “Trans women are actually weaker than cis women,” ignoring every major study, physiology, and real-world athletic results.
  • “You’re just obsessed with genitals,” as if biological reality is some kind of personal fetish.
  • “Stop bullying! Simone Biles was just being inclusive,” even though Simone personally attacked another female athlete and told her to “pick on someone your own size”—which was clearly a jab at men, flipping the narrative.
  • “Only one trans woman has ever medaled in the Olympics, and it was in a team sport,” using tiny sample sizes as “proof” while ignoring decades of male athletic advantage and the ongoing displacement of female athletes.
  • Claims that acknowledging biology is “bigotry” or “hate,” which is a classic deflection to avoid actual debate.

What’s striking is how none of this is about facts or fairness—it’s about protecting an ideology at all costs. That’s the Bulldozer at work: steamrolling science, reason, and women’s rights in the name of feelings and group loyalty.

This isn’t just about sports. It’s a microcosm of a larger, coordinated push to erase distinctions and rewrite reality. The same movement that’s burning flags, tearing down institutions, and pushing radical social change also demands that we deny biology and silence dissent.

If you think this sounds wild, it’s because it is.

And it’s happening everywhere.


In cities like Los Angeles, Austin, and New York, something is boiling over—but you won’t see it clearly if you rely on mainstream media. Violent riots outside ICE offices. Masked agitators throwing bricks and firebombs. American flags burned in the street while chants echo: No borders, no nations, no more deportations.

It’s not just civil unrest—it’s ideological warfare.

The Revolutionary Communists of America recently made it explicit. On their official channels, they didn’t just critique policy—they declared war on the United States. Not metaphorically. Not rhetorically. Literally.

For the radical left, capitalism isn’t just an economic system; it’s the system—the root of all oppression. The force that creates every hierarchy, every disparity, every injustice.

When they say systemic racism, they don’t mean individual prejudice or even discriminatory laws-they mean the entire capitalist structure that, in their view, was built to privilege some and exploit others.

And still, mainstream outlets call it “activism.”

These aren’t fringe events. They’re pressure points in a much larger movement: one that uses radical ideology to attack the very concept of law, order, and national identity. Immigration is just the entry wound. The deeper goal is to dissolve the nation-state, abolish prisons, defund police, and destabilize every Western institution—starting with the family, borders, and biological reality itself.

They want the system to burn.

They just want you to feel guilty for noticing.

This isn’t liberalism. It’s not even progressivism. It’s an ideological virus that blends Marxist collapse fantasies with postmodern identity theory—what some have rightly begun to call Queer Marxism. And it’s spreading, not through military coups or overt revolution, but through activist groups, academic institutions, union politics, and nonprofit networks.

We call it the Bulldozer.

Because it doesn’t just push for justice.

It erases categories, flattens distinctions, and leaves nothing but rubble behind.


🧭 Where This Started For Me

How the modern Left radicalizes through language, identity, and psychological control

Once upon a time, I considered myself a proud progressive. I believed in equality, compassion, and social justice—values I still hold. But over the years, I began to notice a shift: the language of empathy was being used to silence people. The banner of inclusion began to look more like a gatekeeping badge. The people preaching tolerance were often the least tolerant of dissent.

I entered the movement through the doorway of compassion. But I didn’t understand, at the time, that it led to a staircase. A funnel. Tier by tier, the path narrowed—not toward a better world, but toward radicalism. And once inside, the pressure to conform only grew stronger.

Today, much of what passes as “progressive” isn’t about progress at all. It’s about compliance. It’s about scripts. It’s about moral absolutism enforced by social shaming. What began as genuine concern for the marginalized has metastasized into an ideological machine—one that feeds on sincerity, weaponizes pain, and punishes nuance.

That’s why I’m excited to share this conversation with

Karlyn Borysenko, a voice that’s become indispensable in making sense of what’s really happening on the modern Left.

Karlyn is a bold, unapologetic critic of collectivist ideology. An organizational psychologist turned independent journalist, she brings sharp wit and deep psychological insight to her investigations. She’s not just analyzing theory from the outside—she’s been inside the radical inner circles. Through her work on Decode the Left, Karlyn infiltrates socialist and communist meetings, documents activist materials, and translates their coded language into something the average American can understand.

Her work has helped many—including me—see what’s been hiding in plain sight.

In our 30-minute interview, we discuss:

  • Her recent article: Democrats Are Not the Same as Communists. Know the Difference
  • What May Day organizing reveals about the Left’s summer strategy
  • How her infamous “Spy Streams” expose internal tactics and contradictions
  • Her book A Brief History of Racism, and why history matters more than ever now

But before we jump into that conversation, I want to lay a foundation. This post is both a companion and a continuation—an exploration of how well-meaning people get pulled into radical ideologies, how activism gets hijacked, and why naming this process matters.

The Bait: Branding with Virtue

Progressive branding thrives on moral urgency. It co-opts legitimate concerns—racism, sexism, homophobia—and repurposes them as litmus tests. Agree with our solutions or you’re the problem.

I began to question this during the rise of Black Lives Matter. But when I asked reasonable questions about BLM’s funding, its leadership, or its goals, I was told that even asking was racist. It wasn’t enough to be “not racist.” You had to be “anti-racist” in a very specific, approved way.

This wasn’t justice—it was dogma.


The Switch: From Inclusion to Compliance

At the same time, in the wellness and spiritual communities I trusted, I saw the language of healing twist into something coercive. Phrases like “decolonize your practice” and “center marginalized voices” began as invitations—but morphed into rules.

There was no room to push back. Questioning the narrative meant you were part of the problem. Even trauma healing became politicized. The very spaces meant for introspection and healing became echo chambers.

Instead of curiosity, we got shame. Instead of conversation, we got scripts.


The Funnel: Tier by Tier Toward Radicalism

Karlyn Borysenko’s framework Mapping the Modern Left helped make sense of something I had felt but couldn’t articulate: a tiered escalation of ideology.

From empathy to entropy: How ideological movements erase meaning and dissolve reality

The modern Left doesn’t just want change—it wants a revolution.

It isn’t about lifting up the marginalized. It’s about obliterating the boundaries that hold society together—gender, family, biology, even objective truth. In this worldview, distinction itself is oppression.

Gender is violence.
Borders are fascism.
The family is a cage.
Biology is a lie.
Truth is power, and power must be redistributed.

Language becomes fluid. Categories dissolve. Womanhood becomes a costume. Masculinity becomes pathology. Childhood becomes political property. “Liberation” now means detaching people from anything stable or inherited—be it tradition, biology, or even their own identity.

And all of this is done under a banner of inclusion.
This ideological bulldozer doesn’t advertise itself as destruction.
It wears a rainbow sticker and smiles.

But that rainbow is no longer just a symbol of tolerance. It’s become the uniform of a new moral order—one that does not believe in reforming society, but in erasing and rebuilding it from ideological rubble.

To understand how this happens, you need to understand the spectrum of the modern Left—and how it collapses into itself under the weight of its own ideology.

❝ Not all leftists are created equal. ❞
But they’re treated that way—by media, by educators, by corporations, and even by confused voters.

From Tier 1 (corporate Democrats) to Tier 5 (open revolutionary socialists), there is a clear progression:

  • The slogans get more radical.
  • The policies become less about reform and more about control.
  • The language of empathy becomes the weapon of erasure.

By the time you hit Tier 5, “equity” no longer means fairness—it means forced sameness.
“Liberation” no longer means freedom—it means obedience to the ideology.
“Compassion” no longer means understanding—it means submission to the narrative.

This is why it matters to draw clear distinctions between liberals, progressives, socialists, and revolutionaries.
Because the Bulldozer’s first move is to blur all those lines—until every rainbow flag, every DEI committee, every social justice curriculum becomes a Trojan Horse.


The Trojan Horse

Democratic Socialists and the slow march through institutions

Democratic Socialists don’t throw bricks—they shake hands, campaign politely, and quote Bernie Sanders. They reject the optics of violent revolution, but their endgame is the same: the death of capitalism, the toppling of “oppressive systems,” and the remaking of society through collective control.

Instead of storming the gates, they infiltrate. School boards, city councils, union leadership—they operate like ideological missionaries, cloaked in the language of reform. They speak of “economic justice,” “solidarity,” and “participatory democracy.” But behind the rebranded slogans is the same old Marxist blueprint: dismantle private property, weaken law enforcement, and centralize economic power under collectivist principles.

Strategy: Cultural subversion. Institutional capture.
Goal: Dismantle capitalism through political power and social engineering.
How They Show Up: Labor organizing, tenant unions, co-op movements, policy think tanks.

Example

A DSA-backed city council member campaigns on tenant rights and rent control. Once elected, they introduce proposals to defund the police, establish “people’s budgets,” and replace merit-based hiring with DEI quotas. All under the banner of “equity.”

Major Players

  • Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) – boasting over 90,000 members and growing influence in state legislatures.
  • Working Families Party – a political organization that cloaks socialism in populist rhetoric.
  • Jacobin Magazine – the glossy PR firm of soft socialism.
  • People’s Policy Project – crafting white papers that sanitize radical redistribution schemes.

These groups are the useful professionals. The respectable radicals. They are the bridge between normie liberals and revolutionary anarchists. And they often don’t even realize they’re playing that role.


The True Believers

When revolution is the only answer

Then there are the purists—the radicals who reject democratic socialism as too soft, too compromised. These are the revolutionaries who don’t want reform. They want collapse.

To them, every institution—from the police to the family to the very idea of gender—is a pillar of oppression. And those pillars must be burned to the ground.

Violence is not a last resort. It’s a moral imperative. They call it “direct action.” They organize online, use encrypted channels, and treat molotov cocktails like communion.

Strategy: Agitate. Destabilize. Destroy. Rebuild from ideological ashes.
Goal: Overthrow capitalism and traditional Western structures entirely.
How They Show Up: Riots, black bloc formations, propaganda zines, “mutual aid” front groups.

Example

The George Floyd riots were framed as peaceful protests, but cities burned, federal courthouses were firebombed, and police precincts were taken over.

This wasn’t protest. It was trial-run revolution.

Major Players

  • Revolutionary Communists of America – unflinching in their anti-Americanism and pro-collapse rhetoric.
  • Haymarket Books – publishing far-left literature on race, labor, and abolition.
  • Antifa – not a formal group, but a loosely affiliated movement of anarchists who believe violence is speech.
  • CrimethInc. – anarchist media collective advocating sabotage and social revolt.
  • It’s Going Down – a digital hub for anarchist propaganda and riot coordination.
  • Tempest Collective / Firebrand Collective / Pinko Magazine – pushing Marxist, intersectional, and abolitionist agendas under the radar.

These aren’t outliers. They set the moral tone for the entire activist ecosystem. Even mainstream liberals are afraid to publicly denounce them. Why? Because the language of revolution—phrases like “abolish the police” or “disrupt the nuclear family”—has already trickled downstream into the DEI statements of schools, nonprofits, and corporate HR departments.


Death by Distortion

What connects these factions—whether polite socialists or masked anarchists—is not just a hatred of capitalism, but a rejection of distinction itself.

They believe:

  • Truth is power
  • Gender is fiction
  • Biology is oppression
  • Order is violence

In their world, there is no such thing as “woman”—only a fluctuating identity to be claimed or discarded. There is no moral hierarchy—only power struggles between oppressors and the oppressed. There is no reality—only narrative.

And this matters, not just in theory, but in your everyday life:

  • Children are told they were “assigned” a gender.
  • Women’s sports and scholarships are being erased.
  • Therapists fear losing their licenses for affirming biology.
  • Teachers hide “gender transitions” from parents.
  • Pride parades feature kink, nudity, and communist banners.

This is what happens when Queer Theory and Marxist revolution combine: identity becomes a tool, the body becomes political, and all stable truths are dismantled in the name of liberation.

But what’s left after the bulldozer passes through?

Just rubble. Confusion.


A Chilling Parallel: Psychiatry, Eugenics, and Modern Control

We’ve been here before.

In the early 20th century, American psychiatry and genetics embraced eugenics. Under the banner of science and progress, they sterilized alcoholics, the disabled, the poor, and the “unfit.” The roots of Nazi atrocities were inspired, in part, by American policies.

What began as “science” became ideology. And then became tyranny.

Today, we see a similar pattern. Radical identity politics now overrides biological facts. Science is cherry-picked. Individual concerns are dismissed as bigotry. Dissent becomes dangerous.


A Political Religion

The modern Democratic Party doesn’t act like a political party—it functions like a religion.

Belief is required. Doubt is punished. Apostates are shunned.

Masculinity is vilified. Womanhood is politicized. Kids are taught that biology is bigotry. Therapists are scared to speak. Teachers walk on eggshells.

This isn’t about progress. It’s about power.


Real-World Consequences

  • Women’s sports are being erased.
  • Speech is being policed.
  • Gay conservatives are told they don’t count.
  • Pride Month has become a political litmus test.

Even Pride itself has been hijacked—from a movement for freedom into a vehicle for ideological conformity. As journalist Brad Polumbo put it: it’s not enough to be gay anymore—you must also be leftist.


Why I Speak Out

Some people assume I’ve “become conservative.” And maybe I have—at least compared to where I started. But to me, it’s not about labels. It’s about clarity. About being honest.

I still care about compassion, justice, and fairness. But I care about truth too. And truth doesn’t require threats.

I speak out because I’ve seen what ideological manipulation does to good people. I’ve seen friends shrink themselves, walking on eggshells, terrified to be seen as bigots.

I was there once. But I’m not anymore.


🎙️ Now, My Conversation with Karlyn Borysenko

This conversation is an eye-opener—especially if you’re just beginning to question what’s really going on behind the messaging.

Let’s get into it.

SOURCES

A Brief History of Racism – Kindle edition by Borysenko, Karlyn. Politics & Social Sciences

Karlyn Borysenko – YouTube

Democrats Are Not The Same As Communists. Know The Difference.

Her LATEST book! Debunking The Communist Manifesto: An Unapologetic Takedown of Marxist Nonsense – Kindle edition by Borysenko, Karlyn, Marx, Karl, Engels, Friedrich, Moore, Samuel. Politics & Social Sciences

BREAKING: Communist Group Declares War On America

I’m gay, but I’ll pass on Pride Month – Washington Examiner

Decode The Left with Karlyn Borysenko

What Intersectionality Means and Why Racism Means Private Property To The Left

Why Challenging Beliefs Feels Like a Personal Attack—And Why It Shouldn’t

From religion to politics, why deeply held beliefs trigger defensiveness, outrage, and even hostility—and how we can foster better conversations.

We all have seen how the internet seems to bring out everyone’s inner troll. 🧌

The moment a deeply held belief—whether religious or political—is questioned, people lash out with hostility, aggression, or outright rage. Why does this happen? Why do some people react as if their very identity is under attack?

This past summer, we sat down with Dr. Mark Gregory Karris to explore religious trauma, belief deconstruction, and the psychological grip of fundamentalist ideology.

This season on Taste of Truth, we have been expanding the conversation—because this isn’t just about religion. Political ideologies, social movements, and even scientific debates can trigger the same defensive responses.

Fundamentalist thinking—whether in religion or politics—creates a fear-driven, us-vs-them mentality.

At its most basic, the allure of fundamentalism, whether religious or ideological, liberal or conservative, is that it provides an appealing order to things that are actually disorderly. -Peter Mountford

This hits at something crucial that I’ve written about numerous times before: the human brain craves order, even in the face of chaos. The illusion of control is a powerful psychological driver, and our brains reward it with dopamine. Fundamentalist thinking offers a structured, black-and-white framework that feels safe and predictable, making it incredibly appealing—especially in times of uncertainty. It’s why people cling even harder to rigid beliefs when they feel threatened. Whether in faith or politics, the need for certainty can override openness to new information, leading to the defensive reactions we see when those beliefs are questioned.

The moment someone questions the “truth,” it’s perceived as an existential threat, triggering anxiety, cognitive dissonance, and sometimes outright hostility.

Take a look at the patterns:

  • Verbal Attacks: When someone questions a core belief, the response can be insults, shouting, or belittling. For example, in religious circles, someone questioning doctrine might be labeled a heretic, while in political spaces, dissenters might be called traitors or bigots.
  • Social Ostracism: In both fundamentalist religious and political groups, those who challenge the status quo risk being shunned, excommunicated, or “canceled.” A former churchgoer who deconstructs their faith may be cut off from their community, just as someone who questions ideological orthodoxy in politics might lose social standing, friendships, or even career opportunities.
  • Online Harassment: Social media amplifies these reactions. Question a sacred political narrative? Expect dogpiling. Challenge a religious doctrine? Brace yourself for moral outrage. The internet rewards ideological purity and punishes deviation.
  • Physical Aggression: In extreme cases, questioning or challenging deeply held beliefs can escalate to threats or violence. History is littered with examples—holy wars, political purges, ideological revolutions—all stemming from the belief that certain ideas must be defended at any cost.

This isn’t just about bad behavior—it’s about psychology. When beliefs become intertwined with identity, disagreement feels like a personal attack. Fundamentalist teachings—whether religious or ideological—reinforce this by instilling fear of deviation:

  1. Fear of Deviation – Straying from the accepted belief system is framed as dangerous, whether it’s framed as spiritual damnation or societal collapse.
  2. Cognitive Dissonance – Encountering opposing viewpoints creates internal discomfort, making people double down rather than reconsider.
  3. Fear of Consequences – Whether it’s eternal hellfire or being cast out by one’s political tribe, the cost of questioning is framed as too high.
  4. Identity Threat – When beliefs define self-worth, changing one’s mind feels like losing a part of oneself.
  5. Social Pressure – Communities reinforce conformity, and breaking from the group’s ideology invites punishment.

When Morality Binds and Blinds

In The Righteous Mind, Jonathan Haidt explains how moral systems don’t just guide our sense of right and wrong—they also bind us to our tribes and blind us to opposing perspectives. Morality evolved not just to help individuals make ethical choices but to reinforce group cohesion. When we share a moral framework with others, it strengthens social bonds and builds trust. But there’s a cost: once we’re deeply embedded in a moral community—whether religious, political, or ideological—we stop seeing outside perspectives clearly.

This is why people react with such hostility when their beliefs are challenged. They aren’t just defending a set of ideas; they’re defending their sense of identity, belonging, and moral righteousness. A challenge to the belief feels like a challenge to the self—and to the entire group they’re part of.

This also explains why fundamentalist thinking isn’t confined to religion. Political movements, activist groups, and even secular ideologies can exhibit the same rigid certainty, group loyalty, and hostility toward outsiders. The more a belief system becomes tied to identity, the more resistant it is to change—and the more aggressive the response when it’s questioned.

The antidote? Intellectual humility. The ability to recognize that our beliefs, no matter how deeply held, might be flawed. That truth-seeking requires engaging with discomfort. That real conversations happen not when we dig in our heels but when we’re willing to ask, What if I’m wrong?

These dynamics explain why deconstruction—whether of faith or political ideology—often leads to intense backlash. It also reminds me of our conversation with Neil Van Leeuwen, author of Religion as Make-Believe. He pointed out that factual beliefs thrive on evidence, but religious and ideological beliefs function differently. When a belief becomes part of group identity, truth often takes a backseat. In fact, sometimes falsehoods serve the group better because they reinforce belonging.

To close down the conversation, let’s talk about healthy communities—whether religious, political, or social—embrace intellectual humility. Here’s what that looks like:

  • Open Dialogue: Encouraging respectful conversations where differing perspectives are explored rather than attacked.
  • Supportive Community: Allowing for questions, doubts, and evolving beliefs without fear of punishment.
  • Personal Reflection: Cultivating a mindset that prioritizes growth over ideological purity.
  • Interdisciplinary Engagement: Seeking insights from multiple fields rather than reinforcing an echo chamber.

By recognizing these patterns, we can navigate our own beliefs with more self-awareness and engage in discussions that foster curiosity rather than hostility. The question isn’t whether we hold tightly to certain beliefs—it’s whether we’re willing to interrogate why.

So, what’s one belief you’ve held onto tightly that you later questioned?

Let’s talk about it in the comments.

1984 and The Handmaid’s Tale: Misplaced Parallels and Liberal Delusion

Breaking Free: A Conversation with Yasmine Mohammed on Radical Islam, Empowerment, and the West’s Blind Spots

After finishing George Orwell’s 1984, I noticed its resurgence in popularity, especially after Trump’s election. Ironically, it’s not the conservative right but the progressive left that increasingly mirrors Orwellian themes. Similarly, Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale has become a rallying cry for liberals who claim to be on the brink of a dystopian theocracy. Yet, as Yasmine Muhammad pointed out in this week’s episode, this comparison is not only absurd but deeply insulting to women who live under regimes where Atwood’s fiction is a grim reality.

1984: Rewriting Language and History

The Democratic Party’s obsession with redefining language is straight out of Orwell’s playbook. They tell us biology is bigotry and that there are infinite genders, forcing people to adopt nonsensical pronouns or risk social ostracism. This is not progress—it’s the weaponization of language to control thought, eerily similar to Orwell’s Newspeak.

But it doesn’t stop there. They actively rewrite history by renaming monuments, military bases, and even schools, erasing cultural markers in the name of ideological purity. This is doublespeak in action: the manipulation of truth for political orthodoxy. Orwell’s warning that “orthodoxy is unconsciousness” feels disturbingly apt when observing the modern left.

The Handmaid’s Tale: An Insult to Women Who Actually Suffer

In our conversation, Yasmine highlighted the absurdity of liberal claims that America is The Handmaid’s Tale come to life. Yasmine, who grew up under Islamic theocracy, knows firsthand what it’s like to live in a world where women have no autonomy. These women cannot see a doctor without a male guardian, are forced to cover every inch of their bodies, and are denied basic freedoms like education or the right to drive.

Contrast this with the West, where women have more freedom than any other point in history. Liberal women can run around naked at Pride parades, freely express their sexuality, and redefine what it means to be a woman altogether. And yet, they cry oppression because they are expected to pay for their own birth control or endure debates over abortion limits. This level of cognitive dissonance—claiming victimhood while living in unprecedented freedom—is a slap in the face to women who actually suffer under real patriarchal oppression.

Liberal Orthodoxy: Lost in the Sauce

What’s truly Orwellian is how the left uses its freedom to strip others of theirs. They shout about inclusivity but cancel anyone who disagrees. They claim to fight for justice while weaponizing institutions to enforce ideological conformity. Meanwhile, they are so consumed with their own victim complex that they fail to see how absurd their comparisons to dystopian fiction really are.

Orwell and Atwood warned against unchecked power and ideological extremism. If liberals actually read these books instead of using them as aesthetic props, they might realize they’re mirroring the very authoritarianism they claim to oppose. Instead, they’re lost in the sauce, preaching oppression in a society where they have more freedom than they can handle.

As Yasmine said, “You want to see The Handmaid’s Tale? Try being a woman in Saudi Arabia, Iran, or Afghanistan.” The left would do well to remember that before playing the victim in their cosplay dystopia.

Women, Terror, and Freedom: How the West Enables Radical Ideologies

Breaking Free: A Conversation with Yasmine Mohammed on Radical Islam, Empowerment, and the West’s Blind Spots

In a world where ideology often blinds us to reality, Yasmine Mohammed’s story is a testament to the power of courage and critical thinking. As a survivor of a forced marriage to an Al-Qaeda operative and author of the groundbreaking book Unveiled: How Western Liberals Empower Radical Islam, Yasmine has dedicated her life to advocating for women’s rights and challenging oppressive ideologies. In this blog, we’ll explore her journey, the insights she’s gained, and the challenges of addressing extremism in today’s political and cultural climate.


Why Yasmine Wrote Unveiled

When asked what motivated her to write Unveiled, Yasmine shared that it was born out of a deep desire to shed light on her personal journey and the broader systemic issues that keep women trapped in cycles of oppression. “I wanted to expose the realities of radical Islam and its impact on women, but also to empower others to think critically and challenge these systems,” she explained. For Yasmine, the book is not just a memoir; it’s a call to action, a tool for education, and a beacon of hope for those seeking to break free.

Since its publication five years ago, much has changed. Yasmine reflected on her personal growth and evolving perspectives. “The fight for women’s rights continues, but I’ve also learned to navigate the complexities of cultural relativism and political correctness in the West,” she said. These challenges have only deepened her resolve to speak out.


The Psychological Toll of Leaving Islam

In Unveiled, Yasmine recounts the harrowing experience of escaping her marriage and the lingering fear of her ex-husband, even imagining him in “heaven” (p. 186). These fears aren’t just remnants of her past but a reflection of the psychological toll of leaving Islam. “It’s not just about leaving a religion; it’s about disentangling yourself from a worldview that dictated every aspect of your life,” she said.

Her advice for those leaving strict religious environments? “Be patient with yourself. Fear-based tactics are designed to keep you compliant, but over time, as you rebuild your confidence, those fears begin to fade.” Yasmine emphasized the importance of finding supportive communities and nurturing critical thinking skills to counteract deeply ingrained beliefs.


Challenging Radical Islam and Western Enablers

One of the most provocative aspects of Yasmine’s work is her critique of Western liberals who inadvertently enable radical Islam. “By prioritizing cultural relativism over universal human rights, they’re complicit in perpetuating oppression,” she argued. For women in particular, this dynamic is devastating. “When Western feminists turn a blind eye to practices like forced marriages or honor killings, they’re betraying the very values they claim to uphold.”

What’s the solution? “We need to have honest conversations about the realities of radical Islam without fear of being labeled intolerant. It’s not about vilifying a group; it’s about protecting fundamental human rights,” Yasmine said. She also highlighted the importance of education, both in Muslim-majority countries and in the West, to dismantle misconceptions and foster real change.


Final Thoughts

Looking back on her journey, Yasmine’s advice to those deconstructing a belief system is simple but profound: “You are not alone. There is life beyond fear and isolation, and there are communities and resources ready to support you.” For those seeking to educate themselves on these issues, she cautioned against falling into the trap of political tribalism. “Stay curious, ask questions, and prioritize truth over ideology.”

Yasmine Mohammed’s story is more than a tale of survival; it’s a roadmap for empowerment and a challenge to the complacency that allows radical ideologies to thrive. As we navigate a world increasingly polarized by political and cultural divisions, her insights remind us of the urgency of standing up for universal human rights and fostering critical, open-minded discussions.


Further Reading and Resources

🙏 Please help this podcast reach a larger audience in hope to edify & encourage others! To do so: leave a 5⭐️ review and send it to a friend! Thank you for listening! I’d love to hear from you, find me on Instagram!⁠⁠⁠ @taste0ftruth⁠⁠⁠ , @megan_mefit , ⁠⁠⁠ Pinterest! ⁠⁠ ⁠ Substack and on X! 

Oh, Woke Night: The New Sacred Beliefs of the Left

A Journey from Cults to Cancel Culture

What’s a racist, homophobe, sexist, bigot, or hater?
Apparently, anyone winning an argument with a liberal these days.

This year has been a wild ride. It began with me terrified of Satan, demons, and the Apocalypse, only to be ending it realizing the real danger isn’t hellfire—it’s the dogmas we create here on Earth. I didn’t grow up religious. In fact, I was raised secular, moved to Portland, OR after college, and could give you a TED Talk on progressive ideals. But then the pandemic hit, and somewhere between sourdough starters and doomscrolling, I found myself deep in the throes of fundamentalist Christianity.

That’s right—I started the year in a cult. It took months to deconstruct my faith, peel back the layers of fear-based control, and reimagine spirituality beyond the man-made monotheistic God I was sold. Yet, just as I was catching my breath, I noticed something chilling: the same patterns of zealotry I had fled were alive and well in the secular world.

Wokeness, with its sermons on systemic oppression and sacraments of allyship, has become the new secular religion. It demands unwavering faith, punishes heretics, and offers little room for redemption. And just like the fire-and-brimstone preachers I’d left behind, its most fervent believers seem less interested in dialogue and more intent on moral superiority.

Thought leaders like John McWhorter (Woke Racism), Yasmine Mohammed (Unveiled), and Douglas Murray (The Madness of Crowds) have drawn the same parallels: woke ideology mirrors religious extremism, complete with its own prophets and purges. And as someone who’s lived through both kinds of radicalism, I’m here to tell you—it’s not just unsettling; it’s dangerous.

How woke ideology mirrors religious extremism

In my podcast episode titled Faith Unbound: Navigating the Process of Disentanglement—or rather, Deconversion—I delved into my initial discovery of the Ex-evangelical Christian network. Back in February 2024, it felt like a lifeline, a safe haven for questioning my former religious beliefs. But after 6–7 months of immersion, patterns began to emerge. While the movement has been instrumental for many, I couldn’t ignore the creeping rigidity and tribalism. The hunger for certainty, the need to be on the “right side,” often replaces one dogma with another.

A striking example of this surfaced in Sexvangelicals’ episode How to Do Social Justice This Election Season Without Being a Jackass. They state:

“November’s presidential election offers a stark contrast between two types of government. One is democracy, built on the idea that many people have voices and, ideally, a government that serves a broad population. The other is autocracy, which operates on the belief that only a few have a say. Autocracies, like the 2024 Republican Party, often communicate through tactics such as blame, repression, and fear-mongering. In our latest episode, we discuss common communication strategies used by autocracies and how progressives and pro-democracy voters can avoid responding in ways that reinforce jackassdom.”

My response? “It’s not your enemies, it’s the system.” This narrative reduces a complex political landscape into a simplistic moral battle, with one side as saviors of democracy and the other as agents of autocracy. But this dichotomy misses the bigger picture. Who really shapes policy in America?

A 2014 study by Martin Gilens and Benjamin Page, often dubbed the “Oligarchy Study,” analyzed policy decisions across two decades. It revealed that elites and organized interest groups wield disproportionate influence over government decisions, while the average citizen’s impact is negligible. This stark reality transcends partisan politics and lays bare a systemic issue: power isn’t held by the left or right—it’s concentrated in the hands of those who profit from our division.

By framing every election as a battle for democracy versus tyranny, we’re falling into the trap of distraction. The real question isn’t, “Which side am I on?” but, “Who benefits from keeping me here, fighting, and not looking beyond this binary?”

The claim that the Republican Party represents an autocracy, as made by Sexvangelicals, is not just simplistic—it’s laughably disconnected from reality. To label one political party as authoritarian while ignoring the bipartisan complicity in maintaining an oligarchic system is either naïve or willfully ignorant.

Take the oligarchic nature of U.S. politics. Both major parties have long benefited from the concentration of wealth and power at the top. Consider the case of former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, whose net worth has ballooned through stock trades that suspiciously align with her legislative influence. Or Barack Obama (Barry Soetoro), who went from public servant to multi-millionaire, cashing in on book deals, speaking engagements, and lucrative partnerships with Netflix after leaving office.

Then there’s President Joe Biden. While progressives champion him as a defender of democracy, his record is far from pristine. Most recently, questions surrounding his son Hunter Biden’s international business dealings—spanning over a decade—have drawn scrutiny. Hunter’s alleged tax evasion and unregistered foreign lobbying have raised concerns, yet he continues to receive leniency from the justice system.

This isn’t to excuse Republicans from criticism, but the suggestion that they alone embody authoritarian tendencies is absurd when Democrats have equally reaped the rewards of an oligarchic system. Both parties serve the interests of economic elites and organized lobbyists far more faithfully than they do the average voter.

The Magnet, from Puck, 1911.(Udo J. Keppler / Library of Congress)

The bipartisan reality of the oligarchy dismantles the “democracy versus autocracy” narrative. For instance, the same Gilens and Page study cited earlier reveals that the preferences of the bottom 90% of income earners have statistically no impact on policy outcomes. Meanwhile, corporate donors and lobbying groups continue to hold sway over legislation regardless of which party is in power.

By framing Republicans as the sole villains in this story, Sexvangelicals perpetuates the kind of shallow tribalism that fuels division while leaving the real culprits—wealthy elites and corporate interests—untouched. The truth is that our democracy has been compromised for decades, and it will remain so until both sides of the aisle are held accountable for their role in preserving this oligarchic system.

Instead of directing anger at individuals or parties, we should be asking: How do we break free from a system designed to keep us pointing fingers at each other while those in power profit from the chaos?


From Crunchy Hippie to Conservative Christian Pipeline: My Journey Through the Radicalization Maze

Growing up secular, I’d have laughed at the idea that I would someday align with conservative or religious ideologies. Portland, Oregon, was my playground of progressive ideals—a city where conservatism felt like the root of every societal ill. But life has a way of challenging our convictions. Late in the pandemic, isolated and seeking meaning, I fell into an extreme version of Christianity. What I once dismissed as unthinkable became my new normal—until it wasn’t. Earlier this year, I deconstructed those beliefs, peeling back the layers of what led me there. Read/listen all about HERE!

Now, I can see the flaws and virtues of both worlds, which is why I find the frame of mind in deconstruction spaces puzzling. Many accounts misrepresent or overgeneralize conservatives—the very people they once were or grew up with—and cast the same stones they once had thrown at them.

It reminds me of this quote from the book The Righteous Mind:

“I had escaped from my prior partisan mind-set (reject first, ask rhetorical questions later) and began to think about liberal and conservative policies as manifestations of deeply conflicting but equally heartfelt visions of the good society. It felt good to be released from partisan anger. And once I was no longer angry, I was no longer committed to reaching the conclusion that righteous anger demands: we are right, they are wrong.”

Deconstructing past beliefs should be about nuance, growth, and intellectual humility—not trading one form of black-and-white thinking for another. When we fail to empathize with others’ moral frameworks, we miss out on a deeper understanding of the human experience.

Many in the ex-evangelical space now lean far left in their political views, where values like care, fairness, and empathy take center stage. Conservative values like loyalty and authority are dismissed or viewed with suspicion, fostering an “us vs. them” mentality.

This cultural shift into victimhood is explored further in The Coddling of the American Mind by Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt, who identify three “Great Untruths” that help explain these societal trends:

  • 1) “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker,”
  • 2) “Always trust your feelings,”
  • 3) “Life is a battle between good people and evil people.”

These untruths, they argue, contribute to fragility, discourage critical thinking, and promote a tribal mentality—characteristics that are increasingly evident in both the deconstruction space and parts of the progressive left. The focus on emotional responses over rational thought and the growing divide between “us” and “them” only strengthens these dynamics. For a deeper dive into this.


Woke Ideology as a Secular Faith: A Closer Look

“What we’re seeing isn’t a quest for justice but a demand for unquestioning orthodoxy.”

John McWhorter argues that wokeism functions like a full-fledged religion. It provides a moral framework that mirrors traditional religious beliefs. Instead of concepts like original sin, wokeism offers “privilege,” positioning those with it as morally compromised. In place of rituals like prayer, adherents perform acts like confessing their biases. And, similar to the salvation promised in traditional religions, salvation in wokeism comes through activism and striving for societal change. He warns that its refusal to tolerate dissent turns it into a rigid orthodoxy rather than a genuine quest for justice. For many, including those who’ve deconstructed evangelical faith, this framework hits uncomfortably close to home.

Many of the individuals I met and conversed with who now identify as progressive or left leaning have simply exchanged the evangelical radicalism of their past for their new liberal beliefs. Social justice, in this sense, has become their new End Times—complete with the same apocalyptic fervor. And it’s painfully obvious.

Douglas Murray discusses this analysis further in The Madness of Crowds. He suggests that wokeism often serves as a substitute for religion in today’s secular world. As belief in traditional religions has waned, people have sought meaning elsewhere—and wokeism fills that void. It provides clear rules and a sense of belonging, but in doing so, it also shuts down open debate and nuanced conversation.

The New Authority: From Sky Daddy to State Agencies

A striking similarity between fundamentalist religion and woke ideology is the relentless worship of authority. For those who’ve left behind their “big sky daddy,” that void has been filled by institutions like the CDC, FDA, and government agencies. The pandemic demonstrated how blind faith can easily shift from divine to institutional.

This is where the religion of scientism enters the picture—where reason and science are elevated to the status of ultimate truth. Figures who present themselves as “experts” rely on surface-level expertise and selective data to craft narratives that appear authoritative, yet fail under scrutiny. They become the “fake intellectuals,” as Franklin O’Kanu calls them, feeding the cult of expertise while often lacking real intellectual rigor. In public health, this plays out with the “revolving door” between regulatory agencies and the pharmaceutical industry, which further complicates the narrative of impartiality.

The “revolving door” describes the flow of personnel between agencies like the CDC and the pharmaceutical industry. This cycle blurs the lines between public service and corporate interest, with former regulators influencing policies that benefit the very companies they once oversaw—creating a potential conflict of interest that’s staggering.

In this new system, the scientific establishment becomes the new authority—replacing the monotheistic idea of God with the “god” of reason and data. For those in the deconstruction space, this is a new form of dogma. It stifles curiosity, dismisses dissent, and discourages critical thinking—all in the name of progress. This mirrors the rigid certainty and tribalism found in the religious structures people sought to escape.

Worshipping “science” or blindly trusting clinical trials can be misleading. While clinical trials are seen as vital for medical progress, they are often heavily influenced by the pharmaceutical industry, which funds a vast majority of these trials. This creates a conflict of interest that can skew results and delay critical information about the risks of drugs. Examples like the Vioxx scandal, where a painkiller was marketed despite internal knowledge of its dangers, and the Tamiflu case, where the effectiveness of the drug was overstated, show how corporate interests can shape clinical trial outcomes. Clinical trials, while important, are not always as objective or transparent as they seem.

Empowering Dangerous Systems

Yasmine Mohammed’s Unveiled pushes the conversation even more, explaining how wokeism can actually empower authoritarian regimes. One key point she makes is how Western progressives, in the name of cultural relativism, avoid criticizing radical Islam. This gives a platform to extremist ideologies, which harms vulnerable groups like women and minorities. She argues,

“By shielding oppressive practices from scrutiny, wokeism betrays the very people it claims to protect.”

The binary “oppressor versus oppressed” narrative has become a staple of modern discourse, particularly within the context of the Israel-Palestine conflict. This oversimplified lens reduces complex geopolitical and historical realities to a stark dichotomy, fostering a dangerous environment where nuance is lost. It’s unnerving to see college students waving the flag of Palestine while simultaneously undermining U.S. monuments and values, while spreading fear mongering lies about Project 2025, and comparing Trump to Hitler. These contradictions are not only mind-numbing but also deeply troubling, signaling a shift toward ideological extremism that dismisses the complexities of any issue in favor of emotional, binary thinking.

Antisemitism has spiked globally after the October 7 attacks on Israel, but this tragic reality has also fueled the misuse of the term “antisemitism” to suppress valid critiques of Israeli policies. Labeling critics as antisemitic conflates political criticism with hate, shutting down meaningful dialogue essential to addressing the Israel-Palestine conflict’s complexities.

This approach mirrors patterns within woke ideology, where dissent is often silenced in the name of ideological purity. The weaponization of identity politics and accusations hinders nuanced discussions and reinforces systems of power, obstructing pathways to justice and true understanding.

Vivek Ramaswamy, in Woke, Inc., adds another layer to this by discussing how authoritarian regimes like China’s Communist Party (CCP) take advantage of woke rhetoric. According to Ramaswamy, the CCP amplifies America’s internal divisions—often fueled by wokeism—to weaken the West. By focusing on these cultural rifts, China diverts attention from its own human rights abuses, all while strengthening its geopolitical position. This is part of China’s broader geopolitical strategy, which seeks to deflect attention from its authoritarian practices while exploiting divisions in Western societies.

This pattern can be seen as part of a broader effort to exploit the distractions created by cultural conflicts to enhance its influence in global organizations, trade, and international relations. For example, while Western nations debate internal social issues, China continues its expansive Belt and Road Initiative, which increases its influence across developing nations.

Heretics and the Price of Dissent

Religious movements and extreme ideologies, like wokeism, are often defined by their treatment of dissenters or heretics. Woke spaces, much like traditional religious communities, are quick to condemn those who question or criticize. Whether it’s TERFs (trans-exclusionary radical feminists) or former progressives like Yasmine Mohammed, those who dissent face severe backlash. This exclusionary behavior creates a stifling environment, not dissimilar to how traditional religions treat apostates. As Douglas Murray puts it, “The hatred reserved for heretics is often more intense than that directed at outsiders.”

But this dynamic is about more than just ideological rigidity—it’s also rooted in human psychology. The human brain is naturally drawn to certainty. When we embrace extreme ideologies, we seek control over our environment, which provides us a sense of stability and security. Research in neuroscience shows that when our beliefs are challenged, we experience discomfort, but defending them can trigger a dopamine response, rewarding us with a sense of control. The brain gets a “hit” from maintaining a sense of certainty, even if it’s at the cost of nuance or rational discussion.

In fact, this need for certainty can become addictive. The human brain often craves certainty in the form of binary thinking—where things are either completely right or completely wrong. This type of thinking is satisfying because it shields us from the cognitive dissonance that arises when faced with complexity or ambiguity. In the case of woke ideology, the call for absolute adherence to certain beliefs or behaviors is not just about social justice—it’s a way to satisfy that neurological need for control. When we feel justified in our beliefs and actions, we receive a dopamine “reward,” reinforcing the behavior.

This addiction to certainty can also be seen in extreme partisanship. The more entrenched we become in one side, the more our brain is rewarded for defending it. It’s why many people in the deconstruction space or on the political left engage in “mental gymnastics”—creating justifications and rationalizations that protect their beliefs. This isn’t just about ideology; it’s about keeping that dopamine reward flowing, keeping the illusion of control intact, and avoiding the discomfort of uncertainty.

The problem is this pattern of thinking isn’t conducive to open dialogue or true critical thinking. The “us vs. them” mentality becomes more pronounced, and the space for nuance, disagreement, and personal growth shrinks. Instead of engaging with opposing views, individuals self-censor or double down on their beliefs, further entrenched in the addictive cycle of ideological purity.

Moving Forward: A Balanced Approach

It’s important to note that this critique isn’t meant to dismiss the noble goals of social justice movements. Addressing inequality and harm in the world is crucial. But when these movements demand absolute loyalty and punish dissent, they lose sight of the very ideals they claim to uphold.

What do you guys think? How do you balance the pursuit of justice with the need for free thought?

As I discuss on my podcast, Taste of Truth Tuesdays, this tension is something I’ll be unpacking in more detail on Season 3 and particularly with Yasmine Mohammed. We’ll explore how wokeism intersects with radical Islam, how authoritarian regimes exploit these divisions, and how we can engage with these ideologies in a way that doesn’t undermine the values of justice, free thought, and humanity.


Join the Conversation

Do you see these religious parallels in woke ideology? Are they helpful in understanding these dynamics, or do they oversimplify the issue?

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Comment below, and don’t miss my podcast episode with Yasmine Mohammed dropping 2025 for a deeper dive into these topics! 

Beyond the Echo Chamber: How the Quest for Truth Became a New form of Dogma

Bonus Episode: Reflections on the Election Cycle – A Message for the Deconstruction Community

Welcome to today’s deep dive into a topic that’s been stirring within me for months. If you’re new here, let me explain the deconstruction space, or the deconstruction community—a movement that’s gaining momentum for those of us disentangling ourselves from rigid, fundamentalist beliefs. This process is supposed to be healing and, ideally, a source of growth, but it’s not without its share of controversy. That’s what we’re here to talk about.

In my podcast episode titled Faith Unbound: Navigating the Process of Disentanglement—or rather, Deconversion after my own journey took a deeper turn—I discussed my initial discovery of this space back in February. At that point, I’d begun to question my former beliefs, and the deconstruction community felt like a safe haven. After 6-7 months in, I’m seeing patterns that are unsettlingly familiar. The community has been valuable, yet I’ve grown concerned as it increasingly mirrors the same kinds of rigidity and tribalism many of us were trying to escape.

My posts and Instagram reels have hinted at this frustration, but I’m here today to pull these thoughts together more fully. Moving away from one dogma only to embrace another feels to me, like a new form of entrapment. The craving for certainty and “the right side” is strong, and without realizing it, we’re swapping one rigid system for another. In this space that’s supposed to champion open-mindedness, judgment and exclusion seem to have replaced curiosity and true critical thought.

It’s a reminder that true growth and change happen only when we’re open to different perspectives—not quick to label those who disagree with us as enemies. As the philosopher John Stuart Mill argued in his 1859 work, On Liberty, Free speech is essential for discovering the truth. He believed true understanding and truth itself emerge only through open debate and free expression. This highlights the complexity of truth, it’s only when differing perspectives clash that ideas are refined and strengthened. Let’s explore how that idea relates to today’s topic.

Setting the Stage: The Political and Psychological Landscape

Before we dig into the deconstruction community, let’s set the stage with something I found really interesting. Back before the 2024 election, journalist Mark Halperin expressed some serious concerns on Tucker Carlson’s podcast (cue the BOOs and HISSS from all the progressives–I hear you!) about what would happen if Trump were to win a second term. He predicted widespread psychological distress, especially among Democrats, which would affect everything from mental health to social interactions. And, wow, did that hit the mark.

Since Trump’s victory, movements like the 4B movement have surged among women on social media, particularly in response to reproductive rights concerns and conservative gender roles. Originating in South Korea, the movement’s name, “4B,” stems from “B,” shorthand for “no” in Korean, symbolizing “No sex, No dating, No marrying men, and No children.” Recently, the movement has sparked a 450% increase in Google searches in the U.S., with many calling it the “4 Nos” or referencing “Lysistrata” for its radical stance against traditional gender expectations. I’ve shared my thoughts on traditional gender expectations in a previous episode.

The Blue Bracelet Movement: Solidarity or Performative Gesture?

Following the 2024 election, white women supporting Kamala Harris have rallied around an unexpected symbol: a blue bracelet. For many, it represents allegiance, a small but visible way to signal “I’m not with them” to women who voted for Trump. But like other quick-fix political symbols, it’s raising questions: Does this bracelet truly contribute to progress, or is it merely performative—a way to sidestep deeper, tougher conversations within their communities?

The trend echoes past symbolic movements like 2017’s “pussy hats,” which aimed to unify and empower but were later criticized for their lack of sustained action. Today, similar critiques have emerged around the bracelet, with critics suggesting it’s more of a comforting gesture for its wearers than a true commitment to change. Some Black activists and allies have pointed out that symbols alone aren’t enough; they want allies willing to challenge and change the beliefs of those around them, including friends and family who may hold differing views.

Could the Blue Bracelet Movement become a lasting emblem of allyship or fade as a passing trend? Its fate rests on whether those wearing it step up to engage in hard conversations and meaningful action.

Misinformation and Its Impact on Abortion Laws

But let’s get back to deconstruction—and something that’s been coming up a lot lately, particularly within that space: misinformation about abortion laws. Here’s the thing: there is no federal abortion ban in place. I repeat, NO federal abortion ban.

The Trump administration’s role in the overturning of Roe v. Wade has sparked fierce debates on both sides, but it’s important to clarify that the administration never stated it aimed to eliminate abortion nationwide. Instead, the ruling simply returned the power to regulate abortion to individual states. Some conservative figures have even used quotes from Ruth Bader Ginsburg to suggest she supported a more gradual, state-based approach. However, Ginsburg critiqued the federal approach, arguing a more state-focused shift could have garnered broader public support for gender equality. Polls consistently show that while many Americans support the legality of abortion, most also favor restrictions—especially in later stages of pregnancy. This nuance, however, often gets lost in campaign rhetoric, which is typically framed in absolute terms to galvanize voter turnout. But as we’ve seen, such messaging has not always yielded the intended results, revealing the complexity of public opinion on this issue.

Yes, the Roe v. Wade decision was overturned, but all that did was give states the power to regulate abortion. Some states have restrictions, sure, but no federal law is imposing a nationwide ban. And without a massive shift in Congress and the courts, it’s unlikely that will happen.

I don’t think it will. Trump himself has spoken out against that. His wife has spoken for protecting these in some way, shape or form. We have other folks coming over from the Democratic Party under this Unity Party bracket. I just don’t think that they’re going to force Christian nationalism, and abortion bans across the entire nation. I guess we’ll see.

Then, there’s this idea going around that women won’t be able to access life-saving procedures if they have a miscarriage. This is just false. In fact, most states with abortion restrictions still allow medical treatments for miscarriages, like dilation and curettage (D&C), which are essential to protect a woman’s health. What’s actually being restricted are elective abortions—not necessary procedures.

But here’s where things get really tricky. The spread of these exaggerated claims taps into the emotional centers of our brains. If you remember our previous episodes, we talked about amygdala hijacking—the brain’s response to fear and anxiety. When we hear these alarmist claims, it triggers that fear-based reaction, shutting down our ability to think rationally. Instead of focusing on the facts, we’re just reacting emotionally.

The Dangers of Misinformation

Let’s talk about the danger of this. Misinformation, especially when it involves highly emotional issues like reproductive rights, isn’t just harmless chatter—it’s psychological warfare. It keeps people in a constant state of anxiety, preventing them from thinking rationally. The real issue? People are more likely to believe in the fear-based narrative than to actually check the facts. They’re too busy being triggered emotionally.

This plays directly into the hands of the fearmongers. It becomes easier to control a population if you can make them afraid, right? And what do we see happening? Misguided campaigns around “miscarriage care,” the spread of exaggerated stories, and people feeling like their rights are under direct attack. It’s chaos. And it’s all based on misinformation, yet the ones who are screaming the loudest about misinformation are the very ones spreading it.

Can you already hear the echoes of evangelicalism? This brings me to the concepts of Jonathan Haidt’s the Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion because they apply here. Haidt explains how our moral intuitions drive our beliefs and politics, often dividing us along different moral foundations.

Many folks in the deconstruction space, now lean left, where values like care and fairness are paramount. Meanwhile, conservative values like loyalty and authority are often viewed as suspect, fostering an “us vs. them” mentality that can feel righteous but alienating. Ironically, in striving for freedom and empathy, the deconstruction space sometimes ends up falling into the same black-and-white thinking it critiques.

In tandem, Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt’s book The Coddling of the American Mind offers a useful framework for understanding these shifts, identifying “Three Great Untruths”: 1) “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker,” 2) “Always trust your feelings,” and 3) “Life is a battle between good people and evil people.” These untruths, they argue, create fragility, discourage critical thinking, and foster a tribal mentality—traits that increasingly characterize the deconstruction space and parts of the progressive left.

It’s ironic to me that some people leave evangelical Christianity thinking they’re free, only to stumble into a new form of dogma within the deconstruction space. My experience is different—I didn’t grow up in the church but was recruited during the pandemic. Having lived outside of purity culture, I feel fortunate not to carry that baggage. While I empathize with those navigating their journeys, it’s tough to see them act as critics and bullies. Let’s unpack these dynamics by exploring three key untruths in this space.

1. The Untruth of Fragility: “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker.”

For many, deconstructing from fundamentalist beliefs took resilience and a willingness to confront discomfort. Yet, in today’s deconstruction space, there’s an emphasis on avoiding ideas seen as “unsafe” or “harmful”—typically anything that deviates from progressive orthodoxy. and I mean, I genuinely felt this way. I think that might be somewhat of a trauma response. I was like, I hate the patriarchy. I must stand up against this. This is harmful. This is dangerous. And there is a lot of data proving that this isn’t true, whether we want to look at the history of the ancient church or just, you know, the research data that I’ve shared in previous episodes but my point–this fragility, reinforced by social media algorithms, cultivates an environment where disagreement feels threatening rather than enriching.

This approach mirrors the fundamentalist rejection of “dangerous” secular ideas, where dissent is demonized. The irony is that what began as a call for open-mindedness has become a kind of brittle certitude, one that isolates rather than connects. Instead of learning resilience, we’re re-teaching fragility, limiting our growth and deepening the ideological chasm.

Protestors outside a Temple of Satan

2. The Untruth of Emotional Reasoning: “Always trust your feelings.”

Fundamentalism often equates strong feelings with truth—“If I feel it, it must be right.” In the deconstruction space, there’s a similar emphasis on emotional reasoning. If something feels offensive or unsettling, it’s treated as harmful. This approach is amplified by social media, where outrage and personal offense are rewarded with visibility.

Haidt’s work reminds us that emotions shape our moral judgments but don’t always lead to truth. Reacting purely on feeling closes off critical thinking, creating echo chambers where alternative perspectives are rarely considered. Instead of fostering deeper understanding, emotional reasoning entrenches our biases, fueling judgment rather than curiosity.

3. The Untruth of Us vs. Them: “Life is a battle between good people and evil people.”

The most divisive untruth is the idea that the world can be split into “good” and “evil” camps. This is evident in how some in the deconstruction community approach politics and social issues, painting conservatives or moderates as morally inferior. We see a rigid, “with us or against us” mentality, where anyone who questions progressive narratives is labeled “deplorable,” “harmful,” “Trash”, “Nazi” or worse.

Haidt’s research reveals that moral division is natural; we all tend to view those who disagree with us as misguided or even morally flawed. But when we approach every difference as a moral battleground, we close off true dialogue. Coming from a high-Calvinist church—one of the most cult-like, fundamentalist circles you can get into—I know what it’s like to think the rapture is imminent or to believe that if you don’t say all the “right” words exactly, you’ll burn in hell. My journey has taken me from being pro-choice in Portland, OR, having had three abortions myself, to joining an abolitionist movement to outlaw abortion. I haven’t even spoken about the profound pain and regret I carry about this. Yet here I am, reflecting on how divisive our society has become, with so little room for understanding across political lines. In the deconstruction space, you’d expect a shared empathy after leaving behind rigid belief systems, but instead, the culture seems to mirror the very exclusivity and “us vs. them” mentality of evangelical spaces.

Living in Portland, surrounded by ideologies that often pushed the limits of what I felt was morally comfortable, I wrestled with the impacts of various movements. I started to question whether certain messages of empowerment—like third-wave feminism—truly uplift or, instead, encourage behaviors that commodify women’s bodies and promote sexualization from a very young age. And while sex work has become a celebrated concept under the mantra “sex work is real work,” my own painful experiences in that industry make me see things differently. To me, it’s not empowering; it’s the opposite. Instead of championing it, I believe we should work to dismantle the industry.

It’s not just isolated concepts; there’s a broader pattern of glorifying “anything goes” hedonism and dismissing traditional values in the progressive space, which I find deeply troubling. Living in that environment left me with a raw understanding of how damaging these ideologies can be, leaving permanent scars. I grieve over the three abortions I’ve had. I cry because, despite being told it was just “a clump of cells,” I knew it was more than that. Watching the left demand “trust the science” while denying that life begins at conception feels twisted to me.

Moreover, there’s a deep, dark history in the advocacy of reproductive rights that gets glossed over—like the disturbing eugenics past of Planned Parenthood’s Margaret Sanger. Are we just going to ignore that?


Since the last election ended with a Trump landslide victory, rather than sparking any self-reflection, this moral absolutism seems to have intensified. The comments sections on many deconstruction accounts reveal the same tribal thinking they claim to oppose. Instead of creating bridges, we see entrenched sides, instead of open-mindedness, we see judgment.

 Look, I’ve been there. I was a proud Democrat in the past. I voted for Obama. But now, as an independent, I’m calling it like I see it. Democrats need to take a good hard look at themselves if they want a chance at victory. Blaming the electorate isn’t the answer. You cannot keep denying biology and pretending men. Along in women’s sports, restrooms or prisons. The idea that kids should undergo irreversible changes. It’s misguided and is absolutely out of touch. The open border agenda. It’s hurting American workers, pushing down wages and driving up the cost of housing. When will you start protecting your own people instead of pandering to these extreme policies? Discriminating against whites, Asians and men and the name of countering past wrongs is not only setting us back, but it’s racist in itself. Abandoning merit-based selection is wrecking our economy and opportunities for everyone. I mean, you cannot let people camp, defecate and shoot up in public spaces and expect things to improve. The average voter is seeing all of this and they’re rejecting it. If Democrats want to win again, they need to rethink their approach and get back to reality. Enough is enough.

The Pipeline Problem: How Social Media Radicalizes

This divide is worsened by social media, where algorithms favor outrage and tribalism, pulling people toward extreme ideologies. Just as researchers have observed a “crunchy hippie to alt-right pipeline,” there’s a similar dynamic at play in progressive spaces, where folks in the deconstruction space are drawn into radical social justice ideologies that feel every bit as dogmatic as evangelicalism.

In this progressive pipeline, identity politics becomes a weapon, and moral purity is enforced through a power/victim binary that discourages complexity and invites fear of being labeled an oppressor. This kind of ideological purity resembles the control and certainty we experienced in evangelicalism, only now with a new political coat of paint.


And this leads me into the horseshoe theory suggests that the far-left and far-right, though seemingly at opposite ends of the spectrum, often mirror each other in attitudes and tactics. This theory, initially presented by French philosopher Jean-Pierre Faye, proposes that the extremes of any ideology may end up behaving similarly—both tending toward authoritarianism and totalitarian thought despite their stated differences. Although this theory has its critics, the broader concept of ideological mirroring holds up in our analysis of what’s happening in the deconstruction space. At first, it was all about freedom—breaking away from oppressive systems, rejecting dogma, and embracing openness. But ironically, as people deconstruct their faith, they can fall into a similar trap: from being free thinkers to members of a new ideological cult.

Basically, when you leave fundamentalism without fully deconstructing dogmatic thinking, you risk trading one rigid ideology for another. Without cultivating humility and empathy, we will perpetrate the very same cycles of judgement and exclusion.

The Path Forward: True Openness and Curiosity

What’s the solution here? Jonathan Haidt’s insights remind us that real dialogue begins by understanding the values behind other people’s beliefs, even if we disagree with them. Progress and healing require that we listen beyond the labels, engaging in good faith rather than moral grandstanding. If we are to avoid replicating the very structures we’re deconstructing, we need to make space for differing perspectives and approach them with curiosity.

So, this means you cannot demonize conservatives, you cannot call everyone that voted for Trump a bigot, racist, misogynist. There’s something wrong with that thinking. You have been sold these three untruths. It’s a tired accusation that doesn’t hold up when you look at the numbers. Trump support among white voters did drop from 57% in 2020 to 49% in 2024. But the kicker is his support among black and Latino voters actually went up from 38 to 42%. So, against all odds, Trump is doing something that the Democratic Party has failed to do for decades. He’s making the Republican Party more diverse than has been in 60 years. Let’s cut out the divisive name calling and start acknowledging the reality of his growing appeal across different communities.


Real change happens when we go beyond just labeling others and instead build spaces where critical thought can flourish—even when it’s uncomfortable. This is my message to the deconstruction community and beyond!

It’s simple: stop pretending that we have all the answers. True freedom of thought is not about certainty. It’s about curiosity. It’s about asking the tough questions, not just parroting whatever’s trendy on social media or echoing the louder voices in your ideological group.

We need to do away with the binary thinking that divides us into “good” or “evil,” “us” or “them,” and start embracing true diversity of thought. Only by having those uncomfortable, nuanced conversations will we ever break free from the ideological cults—whether they’re rooted in religion, politics, or even deconstruction itself.

So, as we wrap up today’s episode, remember this: It’s time to get real. Misinformation is everywhere, and sometimes, it’s coming from the very people who claim to be fighting it. Whether it’s the left, the right, or the deconstruction space—don’t get caught up in the hype.

Thanks for tuning in to Taste of Truth Tuesdays. Until next time, keep questioning, keep learning, and never, ever stop thinking for yourself.