Progressivism, the will of the decadent protagonist, is the absolutist will of the weak—and the shadow of my greatest adversary.

Progress—as defined by the weak—is the remaking of the world in their own image.

Progress—as defined by the man of tomorrow—is the remaking of oneself, and by extension the world, in the image of that which is most worthy of admiration.

That said, not everyone holds intrinsic value; rather, some possess intrinsic potential for greatness, while others do not. Truthfully, to admire greatness is to glimpse the future self. To resent it is to confess one’s incapacity.

The will to abort, to deny life, is a confession of those unworthy of it. Accordingly, those who seek to abort life should follow through—liberating tomorrow’s generation from unworthy heritable and acquirable characteristics.

The will to social justice—the drive to abolish value judgments against the unworthy and to wield resentment as a weapon against the excellent—is the will of a viper drawn to death.

Our poor viper, forced to crawl along the lower parts of society, secretly brews a vengeful venom to sink into the heels of those above it.

Rather than concerning itself with rats and other beasts of the field, it laments its disadvantages in comparison to those above it.

In truth, though our viper may be well-equipped to deal with smaller game, one cannot elevate a viper into a dragon that it may soar alongside eagles.

The cunning viper, knowing all too well its own incapacity for greatness, conjures a new fantasy: I shall tear the wings from every creature that dares to fly above me.

Lacking limbs, our poor viper’s fantasy is short-lived.

“Aha!” hisses the viper. “I shall strike at their heels, that my venom may rob them of the will to spread their wings.”

Such is the nature of their chosen words—equality, equity, privilege—the will to make the last first and the first last.

The viper’s venom is a hollowing sort—meant to carve a nihilistic void into the hearts of the afflicted, and to fill it with seething resentment.

Indeed, the viper yearns to remake the greater beasts in its own debased image!

I, too, have felt the viper’s strike, and in my heart have conjured this antidote: when the viper strikes the heel, crush its head with godlike laughter—for though the viper cannot be exalted to a dragon, neither can the eagle be reduced to a cold and impotent penguin.