This Is Not a Religion
This is not a religion, nor is it a cult. Perhaps it’s a joke, a philosophy, or simply the rantings of someone on a document. Maybe it will end up printed, and it’s back used as scrap paper.
It’s easy to define something by what it’s not, but let’s instead define it by what it is:
This is a way of looking at reality and making sense of it. It’s a method for organizing society and values within your mind—a critical way of thinking that puts ideas on trial. I will avoid dogmatic language and try to keep this plain, understandable, and free of false depth.
Memetic Fluidity
Memetic Fluidity is the practice of treating ideas, beliefs, and values as fluid rather than fixed. It is a way of thinking that prioritizes adaptability over dogma, questioning over certainty, and awareness over blind faith. In a world shaped by memes, both digital and ideological, it is a method of reclaiming our ability to think critically rather than being passively shaped by external forces
A friend helped coin the phrase, so I use it here. Or perhaps you are using it by reading this. It belongs to no one. It is not inherently sacred unless you decide it is. You can change it, reshape it, or discard it entirely. Ideas should serve us, not the other way around.
The word meme is often thought of as a modern invention, an internet joke, a fleeting trend. But it’s older than that. A meme is an idea or concept that spreads, not through birth or bacteria, but through stories, symbols, and repetition. Some see it as a mental parasite, latching onto minds and propagating itself. Others compare it to a gene, mutating and evolving across generations.
It doesn’t matter which metaphor makes the most sense to you; either way, memes shape what we believe, how we think, and what ideas survive.
Some of the most successful memes have been around for millennia. Mythology and religion may have been humanity’s first memes—collections of stories, ideals, and concepts embodied in singular figures. As societies evolved, so did their belief systems, weaving holy books, saints, and supernatural forces into their collective narratives.
This isn’t to say this is bad or good, it’s simply how ideas spread and take root. These structures helped early societies pass down values, ethics, and survival strategies. They taught practical lessons about which foods to avoid, the importance of rest, and how to live in harmony with others.
But something changed. With the advent of writing, centralization, and power, memes, once fluid and adaptive, became stagnant and dogmatic. Instead of shaping society, society began shaping itself around them.
Dramatic? Maybe. But all inventions exist to save labor, whether physical or mental. Ideas are supposed to serve us, not the other way around.
The Problem
I’m not saying memes are sentient in any classical sense, but they have become self-sustaining structures. They persist beyond their original purpose, upheld for their own sake, often at the expense of the people they were meant to benefit.
Take some of the primary ideas around modern-day economics. A meme spreads the distilled-down belief telling us that poverty is a moral failing and that hard work is inherently virtuous. Perhaps once, this belief originally encouraged communal survival, reinforcing that everyone should contribute. But today, it’s used to justify systemic inequality, keeping people trapped in cycles of exploitation.
Despite overwhelming evidence of its flaws, the meme persists—woven into centuries of stories, beliefs, and propaganda.
So what’s the solution? We must break down these rigid ideas and rebuild them. We must reclaim fluidity of thought, strip away dogmatic rigidity, and recognize these ideas, these memes, as tools, not masters.
This is Memetic Fluidity.
The Principles of Memetic Fluidity
Question Everything
Don’t believe anything I say, or anything anyone else says, without questioning it. Ideas should be examined critically, broken down to their core, and rebuilt. Trust knowledge, but verify it. Experts can be right, but they are also human. Truth is messy and complex; lies are often simple and soothing. If you feel certain about something, challenge yourself to consider the opposite view.
Define What Matters
What are your core values? Where did they come from? Do they conflict with each other? Imagine explaining your values to a dog, a child, and a god. If this feels silly, that’s good—life is inherently absurd.
Understand the Stories
How do your values manifest in the stories you tell yourself? What stories reflect them, and which ones don’t?
Find the Gods
Identify the memes that dominate your society: politicians, celebrities, billionaires, religious figures. Strip them of their power in your mind. They are just people, just ideas, just words written by the long-dead.
Kill Your Gods
The most sacred ideas—those you hold most dear—must also be dismantled. This is the hardest and most essential step. Only by questioning your own ‘sacred’ beliefs can you truly free yourself.
Spread Freedom
When you free yourself, you must find ways to free others. Our chains are interconnected; no one is free until all are free.
No idea is the product of a single person; everything meaningful is a collaboration of countless minds. By attributing ideas to individuals, we risk creating yet another meme—another god to worship.
Memetic Fluidism belongs to no one and everyone. Its purpose is to help us reclaim the fluidity of thought and the freedom to shape ideas to serve humanity rather than the other way around.
Final Thoughts
This is not a religion, manifesto or definitive guide. It’s a starting point, an invitation to think critically and creatively about the structures that shape our lives. Break them down. Build them back up. And above all, stay fluid.
Memes, Thought Patterns, and why this matters.
This entire section is philosophical and mental masturbation. I'd recommend skipping this entire section and going to Step One.
With a quick Google search, one could confirm the origin of the word meme( I also encourage you to do so) as coined by Richard Dawkins in ‘The Selfish Gene’ as an attempt to explain how aspects of culture replicate, mutate, and evolve. A self-replicating unit of ‘culture’ to try and prove universal Darwinism. There is some debate and back-and-forth on his original theory, but I largely don’t wish to delve too deep into that. Others can argue on whether a ‘unit of cultural expression´ can exist or not, whether memes act as some sort of mental virus, or if the analogy of memes with genes is false. For my purposes, a meme serves as some sort of shorthand expression for an idea. This could be anything from a group’s ‘in-jokes’ and shared experiences to a cultural set of values. It's a mental tool, a machine of sorts.
This is a rather fluid and vague description, but I think it still serves our purposes. So, like all tools or machines, it’s intended to make certain tasks and labor easier. To save mental load and labor. Nowadays, outside of simple entertainment, lots of memes serve the purpose of spreading propagandic messages and reaffirming bonds and beliefs within a community. The alt-right spread of the ‘Pepe’ frog is more than just a silly internet picture adopted by neonazis, it's a way for that community to identify each other and share a bond without much else. Rather than opening up to any intellectual thought, connection, or vulnerability, the image could be seen as a digital secret club handshake for a period.
Let's look at a more historical meme: Diogenes washing vegetables in a river. For those less familiar with early 2000s list articles, the story goes that Plato saw him washing vegetables, and so, coming up to him, he quietly accosted him thus, "If you had paid court to Dionysius, you would not have been washing vegetables." "And," Diogenes replied, with equal quietness, "if you had washed vegetables, you would never have paid court to Dionysius.".
It's a short sweet story, quickly highlighting the values of the two. I don’t even need to tell you who Dionysius is- a wealthy king, to get the idea. With a simple anecdote, one gets an idea of the two characters, what they value, and the situation. With a small turn of phrase or a change in tone, one could make either character the hero(depending on what character traits or politics/philosophy you wanted to exalt).
Now, what makes this story a meme and other stories not? Well, honestly, nothing does. Most stories, if not all, serve the purpose of ‘meme’. Not just something like a morality tale, like the Boy Who Cried Wolf, but let's say any Sesame Street episode or Court of Thorn and Roses book. What is being assumed as bad or good? What is it reaffirming as ‘normal’ and ‘abnormal’?
In a way, even the modern internet memes serve this purpose too, albeit in a quick, bite-sized fashion. This isn’t to say that memes are just stories. It may be more accurate to say Memes are the artistic expression of the mental shortcuts to assumed truths, the parts of that story that allow us and the author to save time and energy going through the story. An easy way to demonstrate this is to read something old. I mean something -really- old. Find a story or book from a culture vastly different than yours. You’ll likely find a lot of values have stayed the same over the years, the base of human nature keeping a sort of shared experience you can still relate to. However, you’ll also occasionally hit something that suddenly feels odd or makes no sense without any sort of context. In these cases, you are hitting not only mismatched experiences and values but also the memes that express them.
When we start to take that stance, it's easier to see how much of our world and its cultures are made up of and re-enforced by memes. The institutions we support, the politics we hold, the people we trust, the truths we hold to be self-evident, and probably more can all be traced back to a series of memes that taught us these, or at the very least re-enforced them.
As I have said previously, I don’t believe this is inherently good or bad. Learning it’s morally wrong to lie for attention from the boy who called wolf versus personal experience is probably the easier life choice. As with all things, these mental constructs are a tool, a way to save work and labor. We have so much we can learn and do in our finite lives that it makes sense to take these mental shortcuts.
However, the issue is that these shortcuts are not always good, nuanced, or even factual in some cases. Not necessarily out of malevolence or propagandic tools, although that could be the case some times, but out of simplicity. As the world grows ever busier, perhaps a side effect of memetic ideas that link labor and morality, and ever more categories fight for our time and attention, the memes have gotten shorter. Simpler. The easier binary black and white messages and opinions are becoming more and more ingrained and easier to spread. As shortcuts, they already cut out a lot of flexibility, but it seems to me that what little ability it had left is dying. It doesn’t help that our entire society is built to support this; our moral philosophies are wrapped around binary choices such as in the Trolley problem, and our laws have a simple guilty or not guilty stance.
Perhaps I am being unfair in my assessment of this being a modern problem. Perhaps it's simply easier for one to see it now, considering I didn’t exist before the modern day.
Another concept that comes up with these ideas of binary views and rigid thinking is Schismogenisis. Apologies for the fancy word, but I like the way it sounds. It's an anthropological term, and how I understand and will use it is the process of how two cultures will begin to define themselves against each other. This is very much NOT a modern problem or necessarily a problem. For example, let's imagine an imaginary two groups in High School: Jocks and nerds. Jocks start to define themselves by playing sports in teams, and Nerds define themselves as getting good grades with study groups. Nothing inherently wrong with either of those. Both have a community and sense of group activity, and an activity they enjoy. Schismogenesis is when the groups start defining themselves as not being like the others. Nerds don't play sports because they have a study group at that time. Jocks may not go to study groups because they have practice. Then they start to define themselves more on what they don't do. Nerds specifically avoid physical activity because they aren't some brain dead jock. Jocks don’t study because they aren't some wimpy nerds. Maybe it goes even further. Jocks refuse to wear glasses even with vision impairment because they don't want to be seen as weak in their culture like a ‘nerd’. Nerds refuse ALL physical activity, confining themselves into electric wheelchairs to avoid being seen as barbaric and primitive. This is a silly and exaggerated example, but I think you get the point. There are potential real historical examples of this, I recommend looking at how the Greek City States, particularly Athens and Sparta, viewed each other and imagine to yourself how that developed.
Either way, this is my summary of what I see as the problem: We have our modern culture, a world of cultures, obsessed with schismogenesis, binary views, and rigid thinking in almost all aspects of life. Which in some areas makes sense. Sometimes it is one or the other. But is it necessary for all beliefs and aspects of life? More importantly, is it even helpful, or makes sense?
This is largely why I wanted to write all these thoughts down. To try and come up with an idea of how to break down these thought patterns. To add color to black and white thinking. I wanted to stretch my mind, morals, and values until they could serve me and others better.
Step One: Question Everything( Including this)
Cliché? Absolutely. But stick with me. Or don’t. That’s kind of the point.
The Skeptic’s Dilemma
Let’s conduct a thought experiment.
Imagine a conspiracy theorist. It doesn’t matter which one—let’s go with something mostly harmless and absurd: a Flat Earther.
Despite what his pilot friend tells him, he doesn’t trust their first-hand experience of seeing the curvature of the Earth. He doesn’t believe his astronaut uncle, who has seen the Earth from space. He certainly doesn’t trust the mountains of scientific evidence presented to him.
He even refuses to believe his own eyes when taken into space and shown the planet below.
There is something to be perversely admired in the conspiracy theorist’s mindset to question every bit of truth they receive. In a way, everyone could be lying to you. Your senses could even be lying to you. The conspiracy theorists' problem isn’t that they are questioning everything being told to them, but rather they are questioning everything -but- the belief that the earth is flat. If they did, they would likely find the notion that the earth being flat is far less likely.
The point is, it’s good to question everything. Vital even. In an information age of propaganda, this could be the difference in believing the truth or a repeated lie. I hate to say it, but you may need to do your own research sometimes.
Patterns of Reliability
So, if questioning everything can lead to both truth and delusion, how do we determine what’s real?
Let’s go back to our Flat Earther. Questioning what he is told to be factual and therefore true isn’t inherently bad. How can he know the world is a round spherical(ish, I know, it's stretched along the equator) object or some sort of pancake with an ice wall? His first option is to personally check the Earth's shape.
In order to do this, he would have to:
-Travel the world and chart it himself.
-Learn physics, aerodynamics, and optics from scratch.
-Build his own planes, boats, and measuring instruments (because who knows if the manufacturers are in on it?).
-Repeat centuries of scientific discoveries without relying on anyone else’s work.
You may begin to see the problem. This would take A LOT of time. Easily a lifetime or more, not to mention the pure amount of resources for one person to confirm.
This brings us to the key issue: If we can’t verify everything ourselves, how do we determine what’s reliable?
The answer lies in pattern recognition.
Most people, our conspiracy theorist can safely assume, are somewhat like him. We are, after all, a living thing, and living things of the same species do tend to be similar. Cultural and occasionally physiological differences aside, we can further extrapolate that those giving us information are on some level like us.
Would we purposely lie? Taking the most cynical view for our Flat earther: probably. For safety, security, or gain. Maybe for attention and we really felt like we could get away with it.
Now, taking this knowledge, our flat earther looks at the evidence and shared knowledge they have.
On Flat Earth Side
Old Myths from Around the World
Resurgence in the Late 1800s from a Religious Institution
Some Internet Celebrities Believe it
On Round Earth
A growing collection of knowledge from the 3rd century BCE from multiple points around the World
Backed and accepted by multiple Science Fields(Astronomy, Physics, Geology)
Pictures from Space
Other observable planets are round
If we go for a staggering amount of verifiable evidence alone, it all points to the Earth being round. We would have to REALLY cherry-pick to even try and come to every other conclusion, and that could only be possible if most people that are providing contrary evidence are lying.
This would be a vast conspiracy almost incomprehensible in scope. Unlikely, but maybe not impossible. Now, if we apply the idea of people mostly like us, would the majority really think it’s possible to get away with a lie this big? This long-running? That someone wouldn’t see the fame, power, glory in providing solid evidence that there's a global conspiracy involving all levels of science, multinational cooperation, and so on to say the earth is round?
Of course, deception happens, powerful people have lied throughout history. But the idea of grand conspiracies would require near-perfect coordination, across generations, with zero whistleblowers or conflicting interests. The simplest explanation isn’t that ‘everyone is in on it’ but that evidence accumulates naturally because it reflects reality.
I hope this highlights the point that on some level, we do need to trust others. To rely on the base that our knowledge is built on. Perhaps with a grain of skepticism and fluidity required to avoid any sort of dogmatic belief, but with that same level applied to whatever other ideas challenge the conventional knowledge.
This is why conspiracy theorists, despite their relentless skepticism of external information, rarely apply the same scrutiny to their own beliefs. The cost isn’t just intellectual, it’s personal. To admit they were wrong means admitting wasted time, misplaced trust, and shattered certainty. And for many, that’s simply too high a price to pay.
False Reliability
Let’s try this thought experiment again. We’ll look at an example of false reliability, when a belief system creates its own internal trust structures that reinforce misinformation.
Let’s return to our Flat Earther, but this time, they weren’t just raised with the belief. They grew up in a cult compound, largely isolated from the outside world. From childhood, they were taught a literal interpretation of the Bible, but with some… creative additions from the cult leader—who, conveniently, claims to be the next messiah. Of course, the teaching we’ll focus on is familiar: the earth is flat.
Now, imagine this Flat Earther starts questioning things. Maybe they’re allowed to attend public school. Maybe they excel in physics and start to wonder—if the earth is flat, how does the cult leader’s private jet even work? How does gravity work? Why are the other planets round? The questions pile up.
But unlike the earlier example, they aren’t simply lacking evidence—they have alternative mountains of evidence that reinforce their belief. The cult leader, the savior of their faith, says it is so. Their parents, whom they trust, say it’s so. The leather-bound holy book says it’s so. Any information from the “outside” must be false—after all, those people don’t know the truth.
If the earth isn’t flat, then all the people they trust, the ones they love, the ones who raised them… must be wrong, or worse—lying. Accepting this wouldn’t just change their worldview; it would threaten their very place in the community. They would risk losing their family, security, and identities.
This is why false reliability is so effective and so hard to escape. It doesn’t just provide answers; it builds a structure that discourages questioning. When belief is tied to belonging, safety, and meaning, rejecting it can feel like self-destruction.
False Reliability in the Modern World
This dynamic isn’t limited to cults. The same mechanisms operate in modern echo chambers, misinformation networks, and extremist movements:
-Political or ideological bubbles that dismiss all opposing evidence as “fake news.”
-Conspiracy groups where questioning one claim leads to social ostracization.
-Online radicalization where ideas are reinforced through selective sources and self-policing communities.
False reliability thrives when a system creates its own internal validation loop, where the only “reliable” sources are the ones that already support the belief. Any challenge is treated as an attack, rather than an opportunity to re-evaluate.
This is why conspiracy theorists, despite their relentless skepticism of everything else, often fail to question their own beliefs with the same rigor. The fear isn’t just of being wrong—it’s of losing the entire structure that holds their world together.
How to counter this? Well..
Step Two: Define What Matters
Why does it matter so much to our imaginary flat earther that they are right and there's a vast conspiracy against them? Why does the cultist cling to their beliefs?
We touched on this briefly before, but let’s dig deeper. Instead of picking on just one specific conspiracy, let’s turn the lens on ourselves.
While we are similar in some respects, there are obviously differences as well. We are all shaped by different experiences, different cultures, and different needs. No two people have the same priorities in life. To borrow a page from therapy, let’s call these our values.
You can call them whatever you want—principles, core beliefs, blizzypam booboo poppers, I won’t stop you. The important thing is that they exist, and whether or not we are aware of them, they shape our decisions, reactions, and worldview.
What Do You Value?
Part of me wants to give a specific list here, but I feel like that would immediately undercut the idea of thinking for yourself. It would start to limit you down to my definitions and in a way I would be restricting your freedom.
So instead, I will demonstrate and share some personal Blizypam Booboo Poppers of my own. I value freedom—not just for myself but for others. I dislike control and the ability of anyone to limit others' choices. So much so that I find a strong dislike of people who not only take away other people's choices but also have the power to do so. This could mean I value fairness or equality as well. I am aware that those are very American choices. I’m sure you can picture the red, white, and blue trailing me like a cape.
But here’s the catch: values often can contradict each other.
I also value practicality and doing things well. Sometimes, absolute freedom conflicts with functionality. If I believe in total creative freedom, I might also have to accept ideas and projects that are wildly inefficient or flawed.
So, which value wins?
This is where we start to see nuance. No single value exists in isolation, and the hierarchy of what we value determines our biases and decisions.
The Thought Experiment: The Trolley Problem Lies to You
Most people think they would easily pull the lever in the classic Trolley Problem—one person dies to save five.
But ask them if they would kill one person to harvest organs and save five, and suddenly their answer changes.
Why?
Because values are not simple. They are contextual, layered, and sometimes irrational.
Our Flat Earther likely values justice and independence—which is what initially led them to question mainstream beliefs and be concerned that entire institutions are lying. But they also value truth—and the idea that entire institutions have conspired against them for years is outrageous.
To admit they are wrong would require them to confront a hidden value: pride. Pride, of course, can’t be recognized; it's classically and dogmatically viewed as a sin, even if it's arguably the base of self-esteem, self-worth, and sentience.
The cost of changing their mind is not just about being wrong—it’s about acknowledging wasted time, money, and effort. It would also mean acknowledging their resistance is due to another value perceived as a flaw.
And that’s all terrifying.
Values are not just words—they are the foundations of identity. When a belief is deeply tied to a core value, challenging it can feel like an attack on the self.
The Five-Year-Old Test: Where Did Your Values Come From?
Now, let’s turn to our cultist.
They are an adult now, with a child of their own. Their five-year-old daughter comes home from school and tells them:
"I heard the world is round."
The cultist pauses. He tells her the Earth is flat.
"Why?"
"Because it’s the truth."
"Why?"
"Because it says so in the book."
"Why?"
"Because it’s God’s word."
"How do we know that?"
“Because the Founder said it was.”
“How does he know?”
“Because he's chosen by god.”
“How do we know that?”
“Because he told us.”
The five-year-old keeps asking. Eventually, the cultist could realize:
The belief, the faith they hold, has an entirely circular logic. Perhaps with some more questioning, they may find when they need to believe in it: not just because it’s true—it’s because it protects their community, their security, and their family.
Values do not appear from nowhere. They come from stories we’ve been told, experiences we’ve lived, and fears we’ve inherited.
Try this exercise yourself. Pick a value you hold and trace it back to its origins. Keep asking "Why?"”How”” What?” until you find the root.
Maybe some values will hold. Maybe some won’t.
But rigid thinking kills complexity—and few things are as complex as the stories we tell ourselves about what matters.
Step Three: Understand the Stories
You may be catching on to the pattern here. Or maybe you skipped to the end and you’re sticking around for the charm and wit.. Anyway, let's get to the next step: Story Time.
Your Memory is Historical Fiction
Let’s start with a science fact that may or may not be true.
Memory is fallible.
Every time you recall a memory, you rewrite it. Your brain isn’t an organic hard drive, and it doesn’t store perfect data.
Eyewitness testimony is unreliable for this exact reason. Memories shift over time, influenced by bias, suggestion, and emotions.
So if our own memories are stories we tell ourselves, how much of what we believe about our past is really accurate?
Consider a formative experience in your life. A moment that changed you. Now consider:
-What parts of that story are fact, and what parts are interpretation?
-If someone else were there, would they remember it the same way?
-Did this event shape your values? If so, how?
Memory is not reality, it is narrative.
The Stories You Assume
Now, let’s expand beyond personal memory.
Try this: Picture a doctor.
Does an image come to mind? An older man in a lab coat? A stethoscope? What sort of day do they have? Are they good or bad? Neither?
Now, picture this: how does food make its way from the farm to your refrigerator?
Can you picture each step? A red barn? A green tractor? A smiling cow? Old grizzled farmer with a straw hat?
Where did these images come from? Unless you are a doctor or a farmer, or have spent considerable time around them, these are borrowed stories. A mental shorthand passed down from movies, books, and culture.
These are not bad. They save mental energy. But they also shape assumptions we don’t question.
Try one more.
Picture an immigrant.
If you’re from the U.S. or E.U., you probably pictured someone darker-skinned. Maybe Hispanic, Middle Eastern, or African.
Even if you imagined someone hardworking, kind, and intelligent, you still instinctively categorized them as "other." Not like you.
Where did that story come from?
Does the word immigrant create a different mental image than expat? Why would someone from another country, moving to your country, look different than you? Even with super homogenous societies, why is that the first reaction? Do you, on some level, identify some other sort of ‘person’ as a representative of your country?
This is why understanding these stories is essential.
The Stories We Are Sold
Beyond memory and assumptions, we have media stories—movies, books, and TV shows that reinforce values.
A reality show about love seems innocent—until you realize it’s teaching us that affection is a competition and companionship is a scarcity.
A war movie may claim to show heroism, but does it question the systems that create war in the first place?
Recognizing these stories doesn’t mean rejecting them. It means learning to engage critically so we can reshape our own narratives instead of passively absorbing them.
And if stories shape our world, then those who control the most powerful stories shape reality itself.
So who’s writing the stories you believe?
Step Four: Find the Gods
We’ve questioned beliefs.
We’ve defined values.
We’ve explored the stories that shape our world.
Now, let’s ask the bigger question:
Who controls the stories?
Who defines the truths we take for granted? Who decides what is normal, what is sacred, and what is heretical?
If you’ve been following along, you probably know where this is going. My apologies for its conspiratorial tone.
Memes create myths. Myths create gods. And gods shape reality.
Modern Memes, Modern Gods
We tend to think of memes as impermanent: here today, gone tomorrow. The internet cycle moves so fast that jokes, symbols, and cultural moments rise and fall within weeks.
But not all memes die. Some survive, embedding themselves so deeply into our culture, economy, and politics that we don’t even recognize them as memes anymore.
Earlier, I suggested that the first memes were myths and religions—collections of stories and ideas that helped early societies structure their values and explain the world.
And just as old gods ruled ancient civilizations, new gods rule modern ones.
These gods are not supernatural. They do not live in the clouds or demand blood sacrifices on an altar.
Instead, they exist in media, politics, corporations, and culture.
We don’t pray to them, but we invoke their names. We don’t worship them in temples, but we follow their will, consciously or not.
So, let’s name them.
Who Holds Power? Who Shapes Reality?
If we define power as the ability to shape beliefs, control narratives, and direct resources, four groups stand out:
1. Celebrities – The Modern Mythmakers
Actors, musicians, influencers, athletes—these are our modern storytellers.
They shape how we see the world. They define who deserves fame, what success looks like, and what values matter.
Their power isn’t just influence—it’s a monopoly.
-Hollywood is controlled by a handful of studios.
-The music industry is dominated by a few major labels.
-Social media algorithms dictate who gets visibility and who disappears into obscurity.
The same faces, voices, and ideas are repeated until they become the default.
The reason certain celebrities amass vast wealth isn’t just talent—it’s scarcity. The industry artificially limits who rises and who stays forgotten.
They are the gods of narrative—they tell the stories that shape our dreams, our desires, our identities.
But they are just people. Just actors playing a role in a system that rewards repetition and conformity.
2. Politicians – The Puppeteers of Policy
We love to call politicians corrupt, power-hungry, self-serving—and yet, society still sees them as necessary.
We are told that without them, there would be chaos. That government, flawed as it may be, is the only way to maintain order.
But let’s step back.
Why do people loathe politicians yet still believe in the system that keeps them in power?
Why do laws change slowly, except when it benefits those already with power?
Why do we accept that leaders can be incompetent, yet their authority remains unshaken?
Are they really public servants? Or are they just kings in PR suits?
Monarchs of the past needed military force to rule. Today, rulers don’t need armies; they have media, bureaucracy, and narratives that sustain their legitimacy.
Like old gods, they claim their divine right to rule. But today, they do it through elections, laws, and economic systems designed to make radical change seem impossible.
They are not all-powerful, but they are sustained by belief. The belief that they are the only ones who can keep the world from collapsing.
3. Billionaires – The High Priests of Wealth
Perhaps the closest thing to modern deities, billionaires hold power that rivals governments and shapes global systems.
We are told:
-They are brilliant innovators who built their wealth through hard work and vision.
-They deserve their fortunes, and we should aspire to be like them.
-Their money is a measure of their intelligence, talent, and contribution to society.
But the unspoken inverse is just as important:
-If billionaires deserve their wealth, the poor must deserve their poverty.
-If wealth is a sign of hard work, then those without it must simply not be trying hard enough.
-If the system allows such vast inequality, then it must be just—because to question it would be to question everything.
Billionaires don’t need to control governments directly. They buy influence, fund campaigns, and own the media that shapes public opinion.
Like ancient gods, they do not rule openly. They rule through intermediaries, through systems that feel natural and unquestionable.
4. Religious Leaders & Spiritual Gurus – The Keepers of Meaning
Religion once held absolute control over laws, knowledge, and daily life. Today, its grip has loosened—but its methods of power remain.
In place of traditional faith, we have new gurus, life coaches, and self-help prophets.
They promise clarity in chaos.
They sell meaning in a meaningless world.
They offer certainty in a time of constant doubt and disinformation.
Like the prophets of old, some genuinely believe they are helping people. Others know they are selling illusions for profit. Others are somewhere in between these two extremes.
But their power is the same:
They control the truth.
They tell people what is real and what is not.
They offer comforting lies in exchange for loyalty.
Whether it’s a megachurch pastor, a New Age healer, or a podcast intellectual peddling "forbidden knowledge", the formula is the same:
-Tell people they’ve been lied to.
-Offer them special knowledge.
-Make them feel chosen.
-Keep them dependent on the next revelation.
They don’t need to be right. They just need to be believed.
These Are Our Cultural Gods
They don’t wear robes. They don’t sit on thrones of gold. But they shape our lives as much as the old gods did.
They define the limits of our reality—what we should aspire to, what we should fear, and who we should obey.
But gods only exist as long as people believe in them.
This leads us to the next step.
Now that we’ve identified the gods—the ideas, institutions, and figures that shape our world—we must ask ourselves: What happens when we stop believing in them? Because gods do not require worship. They require obedience. And once we refuse to obey, they begin to crumble.
Step Five: Kill Your Gods.
If gods are what rule our society—secular or not—then they are what must be killed in order for it to change.
Not literally. Unless strictly necessary.
No, the people themselves are not gods. They are merely avatars for modern divinities—stand-ins for ideas, institutions, and myths that have taken on a life of their own.
And as much as their often narcissistic personalities may think it so, they are not the sole holders of truth and reality.
So how do we metaphorically kill these metaphorical gods?
With a metaphorical knife? A metaphorical gun?
Not exactly. Unless you want the metaphorical police after you for a metaphorical murder.
No, the first step is to identify them.
A German philosopher with no particular importance wrote(in the throes of syphilis)famously declared, "God is dead." What people forget is the rest of the quote:
"God is dead, and we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?"
They weren't just throwing an edgy goth kid tantrum about his parents making him go to church. He was highlighting a problem: When the old gods die, what fills the void? What happens when everything we’ve built our world on collapses?
Because that collapse is inevitable. It happens every time we collectively stop believing in something powerful.
The gods of ancient pantheons: Zeus, Odin, Ra. They all once ruled civilizations or at least their servants did. Today, they’re stories in textbooks, their temples long abandoned.
So what about our modern gods?
Not just the politicians, billionaires, and cultural idols we examined in Step Four—but the institutions, belief systems, and self-replicating power structures that exist because we believe in them.
These gods do not require worship, only obedience. They don’t ask for temples, only that we never question their place in the world.
But gods only exist as long as people believe in them.
So what happens when we stop believing?
Your Personal Pantheon
Before we get into dismantling institutions, let’s start with your own personal gods.
Take a moment. Think about who you idolize, admire, or place above others.
Someone whose words feel like truth, whose ideas you rarely question. This could be a parent, a historical figure, a celebrity, a politician. anyone whose values resonate deeply with you.
Maybe it’s a political figure you see as a savior.
Maybe it’s a historical icon you’ve never truly examined beyond their most famous quotes.
Maybe it’s a self-help guru, a revolutionary, a scientist.
Now, ask yourself:
-Are they just people, or have I elevated them beyond human critique?
-If I found out they were deeply flawed, would I still hold the same beliefs?
-Do I question their ideas with the same rigor I apply to people I dislike?
At some point, I´m betting you´ll find they stopped being just people. They became memes, symbols reduced to a single, purified idea. Nobody is immune to this. We all create mental gods, figures whose words hold disproportionate weight. This doesn’t mean hating them, and this doesn't mean not loving them. It means seeing them for what they are.
It doesn’t mean they’re bad, either. That’s binary thinking, and that’s exactly what we’re trying to avoid.
But they are not perfect.
Maybe they had beliefs that don’t align with yours.
Maybe they failed in ways history forgets.
Maybe they were products of their time, with biases and blind spots.
Recognizing this doesn’t diminish them—it frees you from uncritical worship. Not infallible. Not perfect. Not sacred.
Just people.
And if that’s difficult? This is the easy part.
Because now we must turn to the gods you hate.
Who Are the Gods You Hate?
If you think you have no gods, look to your enemies. Look who you demonize. The ones you consider morally bankrupt, the faces of oppression, the avatars of everything wrong in the world.
Who do you consider purely evil?
Who do you believe is beyond redemption?
Who do you immediately dismiss without considering any context?
They are gods, too. The truth is, if we elevate some people to near-mythic goodness, we often do the same in reverse—turning others into monsters, villains, and symbols of all that is wrong. No matter how much you despise them, they still exist in your mind as symbols. Symbols that have power over your thoughts.
If you hate something without deconstructing it, you are still controlled by it.
Strip away the myth.
Tear off the mask.
See the human beneath.
This doesn’t mean forgiveness.
It doesn’t mean sympathy.
It means refusing to let them live rent-free in your head as deities of evil.
Nobody is a god, nobody is a devil.
They are just people—flawed, selfish, and shaped by their own memes. And the moment you recognize them as human, you strip them of immortality.
To truly kill your gods, you have to kill the concept of infallible heroes and irredeemable villains.
People are just people. Even the ones we despise. This doesn’t mean excusing terrible behavior. It means recognizing that power comes not from a single person but from systems that enable them to thrive.
Hating a king doesn’t destroy the monarchy.
Hating a billionaire doesn’t end capitalism.
Hating a politician doesn’t dismantle the system that put them in power.
The Thrones of Gods – The Systems That Persist Without Question
Killing a god is easy. Killing the throne they sat on? That’s harder.
Before, we were just de-mystifying people.
That was easy. People are flesh and bone. They piss, shit, bleed, and die just like the rest of us. But institutions?
Institutions function like memetic machines—they persist not because they are good, just, or efficient, but because they have been around long enough that nobody remembers a world without them.
Take this borrowed thought experiment:
A group of scientists puts five monkeys in a cage with a banana hanging from a string. Whenever a monkey tries to grab the banana, they are all sprayed with freezing water.
Eventually, the monkeys stop trying.
One by one, the scientists replace the original monkeys with new ones. These new monkeys—who have never experienced the cold water punishment—still refuse to touch the banana.
Why? Because the others stop them.
They don’t know why. They only know this is how it’s always been.
This is how institutions maintain themselves—through habit, tradition, and resistance to change.
The legal system is a labyrinth so complex that the people who must live by its rules have no chance of fully understanding it without years of specialized study.
The economic system traps people in cycles of poverty, not because of personal failure, but because escaping is intentionally difficult.
The political system ensures that real change is impossible, no matter which party is in power, because the system itself remains intact.
These systems do not require a conscious conspiracy to remain oppressive.
They survive because people accept them as unchangeable truths.
These are our modern gods, and they will exist until we stop believing in them.
How Do You Kill a God?
To be clear again: Killing your gods is not about violence or destruction. It's about liberation
These modern gods- the institutions, belief systems, and systemic structures- cannot be fought with swords, guns, or guillotines. They live in ideas, and they die when ideas change.
The first step is to recognize their existence. Stop accepting their power as inevitable.
If the legal system was designed, it can be redesigned.
If economic inequality is a manufactured structure, it can be dismantled.
If democracy as we know it is built to maintain the status quo, it can be rebuilt differently.
But what replaces it?
That’s a good question.
The hard part is what comes after. Destroying a god is easy in comparison.
If we kill these gods and do not replace them with something better, new ones will take their place.
Power structures will not disappear; it simply will change hands.
If we do not consciously rebuild, we will simply replace one set of unchallenged beliefs with another.
So now that we’ve killed our gods, it’s time to move forward. Or just keep moving forward, because this step you´ll have to revisit time and time again.
Step Six: Spread Freedom
You challenged your thoughts.
You liquefied the rigid beliefs that once held you prisoner.
You slew the giants in your mind—or, at least, the ones you could see.
This is where the story ends, right?
That’s what we’ve always been told.
The battle is won. The hero stands triumphant. The tyrant is overthrown.
And then?
A montage, maybe. Superman rebuilding Metropolis. The revolutionaries are celebrating. The last page of the book. The credits roll. But what happens after?
Who teaches the people how to live without their chains? Who shows the grief, the struggle, the fragile, human work of picking up the pieces and building something new? We don't often tell that story.
But maybe it’s time we do.
What Do We Build?
Tearing things down is easy.
Breaking something takes a moment. Rebuilding takes a lifetime. That’s why so many revolutions fail. We know how to destroy. We don’t know how to create.
And this is where we change the narrative.
Memetic Fluidity isn’t just about dismantling belief structures, it’s about creating better ones. We don’t just need to tear down what doesn’t work. We must replace it with something better.
So what does that look like?
How do we ensure we don’t accidentally build new gods from the rubble of the old ones?
The Myth of the Individual Revolutionary
You’ve probably heard it before: One person can change the world.
It’s a good story. Inspiring. Hopeful. But it’s not the full truth.
Because no one lives in a vacuum.
Gods may be dismantled, but their actions still remain.
Systems may crumble, but their consequences still shape us.
Ideas may die, but their ghosts linger in the structures they left behind.
Everything around us—the power, the institutions, the rules of our world—was built collectively.
And that means we can build something new.
Not alone.
Not as some mythic chosen one leading the charge.
But as a network, a collective, a movement of people rebuilding with intention.
We do it together.
How Do You Spread This?
Maybe you’re expecting an answer.
Some grand strategy for tearing down systems. A list of ways to be ungovernable. A manifesto of resistance.
I could give you that.
I could tell you what books to read, what thinkers to follow, what ideas to look into.
I could try to make myself one of those guiding gods. The voice of wisdom, the leader of a new movement.
But that would go against everything we’ve just built.
So I won’t.
Because this doesn’t end with me.
I am not your god.
And you don’t need one.
Freedom is Yours to Shape
Memes shape the world. They spread. They evolve.
Memetic Fluidity isn’t something to follow—it’s something to use, change, challenge, and reshape.
This is not a sacred text.
This is not a final answer.
This is a virus of thought. A fire in the mind. A story waiting to be rewritten.
And now it’s yours.
So tell it. Spread it. Live it.
Or don´t.
Because no gods will save us.
But the next story is ours to write.
Uncopyrighted.
Feel free to modify, copy, adjust, change, reprint, and spread as desired.
Ideas are not sacred. They are tools. Use them.
No ownership. No restrictions. No gods.