The Shitposter of Kiev

Since the dawn of time, man (and woman too, I guess…) has attempted to encompass the globe in one universal dominion. Caesars have crossed their Rubicons. Napoleons have sailed to Egypt. Rothschilds have — shrewdly kept watch over some very smart investment, and that’s all.

But none of them have succeeded in ruling the globe.

Some tin-foil-hat wearing conspiracy theorists believe the world to be run by a set of about 200 (give or take, depending on the year) sovereign states under the auspices of the United Nations. More reasonable folks believe the world to be a battleground of vaguely defined shadowy bugaboos like the Deep State, Cultural Marxism, the Patriarchy, and Institutional Racism. Really sharp cookies know that’s all a buncha baloney though, and are convinced this planet is truly suffering under the tyrannical rule of the lizard people (known more formally as the Reptillians).

“But,” as Galadriel sez in the prologue to Fellowship, “They were all of them deceived.”

For another global power was made. All under the rule of one man who held absolute power beneath his well-manicured fingertips!

… okay, actually he was a thirteen-year-old kid. And his fingertips weren’t really manicured and if you mentioned it to him he might give you a blank stare and say, “Is that the one for your fingers or is it the one for your toes?”

… all right, full disclosure. He was actually a thirteen-year-old girl, and her fingertips were actually pretty cringe because she had an awful nail-biting habit on account of her high-functioning anxiety. But she was kinda butch and had big hands and broad shoulders, so maybe that made it a little more okay…?

But she really did hold absolute power beneath her fingertips, even if her phalangeal hygiene left something to be desired.

And because she lived in the city of Kiev and because she was a shitposter, she was known far and wide as the Shitposter of Kiev.

And verily my brothers (and sisters too, I guess…) she wielded the power of the poast like unto the way a mighty Zoomer doth wield the Tide Pod, the crippling anxiety, and the Mountain Dew for breakfast. She was like the Joe Biden of memes, or would have been if Joe Biden was good at memes… or anything at all, really. Memeing was like unto the Shitposter of Kiev as having tiny hands and eating McDonald’s was like unto the 45th President of the United States — but lo, the Shitposter of Kiev would never make a tiny hands joke, because such references are for normies and went out of fashion in like March of 2016.

Srsly bruh? Dafuq you doin still making tiny hands jokes?

For ten thousand million million million centuries did the Shitposter of Kiev hone her dread art, subsisting all the while in her mother’s basement — for this space, of all spaces, is the space that does grant the most power to the adepts of the shitpost). And for all this time she consumed only the sacredest of sacred diets of the shitposter: for drink she did have Mountain Dew and for meat she did have Doritos, but only the Nacho Cheese ones cuz they have way more sacred power than the Cool Ranch.

And for ten thousand million million million centuries did the Shitposter of Kiev practice in the edgiest of the edgy platforms, roving far and wide. She did scroll and poast through the lands of Reddit, 9Gag, of 4Chan, and of Insta — but not on Facebook cuz her Mom was on Facebook, for Pepe’s sake!

And not once did she ever venture into the uber-normie land of LinkedIn.

After defeating seventy times seventy thousand memers in meme combat the likes of which even Richard Dawkins has never seen, the Shitposter of Kiev did attain the apotheosis of Absolute Meme God Status.

Then she memed the ‘Rona into existence and used it to crush the economies of the Western Democracies because even though she lived in Kiev she was still on Daddy Putin’s payroll.

Then the Soviet Union came back and everything was amazing and everyone was miserable because no utopia can change the fact that life is basically a prolonged nightmare.

… what?

Why you gotta look at me that way, baby?

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