The system does whatever it wants, and people do podcasts to cope. You only have to worry about the “problems” of society if you throw babies into it. Then the system has you through your own love and attachment to your offspring. You get worn out worrying about a bunch of shit you can’t control. At this point, with what’s been revealed about life and the world, the only thing new people will experience is misery.
Bottom line: you’re enforced upon by gang bangers in high places with military backup. You can talk about whatever bullshit you want so long as you don’t talk about things that directly or indirectly interfere with their plans — including seeding ideas that might morph into a nuisance they don’t want. You can’t do piss-bugger-all about it, because you’ve got to deal with food, cost of living, sex problems, and worrying yourself to death over your baby farm. The most you can do is complain about it, which is emotionally satisfying but cyclical.
The big boys — the dick smackers on high — call the shots. You’re not the type to suit up and go full kamikaze. You’re too busy trying to afford groceries or look after your child-worship farm. If you actually tried to make a resistance movement, the only form of movement with even the slightest chance would, by default, be seen as a threat and neutralized. That’s how the cookie crumbles; that’s how the dick farts. That’s life. There’s no way out. This is all theater — a cope.
You can’t put the scrambled egg back into the shell. The problem is built into the structure of existence at the level of reality coding and will. The dicky is cooked. You can’t turn a pickle back into a cucumber, nor can you put the foreskin back on a penis. It’s over.
Immigration? Housing crisis? Cost of rent? They do whatever they want while you listen to podcasts and wait for the next election. Maybe you get a feature moment on a radio call-in show to air your grievance. Then the same bullshit moves forward, more drama happens, and it goes to shit anyway. That’s how it rolls.
All you dick farts going on about revolution, what do you really do? You invite people to telegram groups and share memes. That's it. So regardless of who you say runs the world, regardless of immigration, this or that, you are going to sit there and take it. You will keep on having that special soup, and guess what, it's called “Campbells' Cream 'O Cum.” You are all cock and no balls, all flatulence and no feces, all pulse and no jizz. It's over.