This is the sermon I wish more pulpits had the spine to preach. The Boomer mythos—peace, love, and righteous rebellion—was always too sanitized to hold. Beneath the flower crowns were trust funds and trauma denial. And now, as the twilight sets in, we’re left with their unfinished revolutions and fully matured hypocrisies.
They didn’t just sell out—they institutionalized the sellout. Turned protest signs into branding guides. Their freedom dream got asset-managed, and now they gasp at the authoritarian blowback like it’s some cosmic surprise.
But the Black Madonna doesn’t do nostalgia. She watches, scorches, and waits. And yeah—She remembers.
This is the sermon I wish more pulpits had the spine to preach. The Boomer mythos—peace, love, and righteous rebellion—was always too sanitized to hold. Beneath the flower crowns were trust funds and trauma denial. And now, as the twilight sets in, we’re left with their unfinished revolutions and fully matured hypocrisies.
They didn’t just sell out—they institutionalized the sellout. Turned protest signs into branding guides. Their freedom dream got asset-managed, and now they gasp at the authoritarian blowback like it’s some cosmic surprise.
But the Black Madonna doesn’t do nostalgia. She watches, scorches, and waits. And yeah—She remembers.
Okay, I obviously love the message, but the writing - damn, that's good!
Gorgeous