Christians talk big about the “unknowable God,” but the second reality stops playing by their medieval rulebook, they start crying like the universe betrayed them. They don’t worship mystery, they worship routine. They need their bedtime stories, their sky dad with a punishment fetish, their comfy little binary where they’re the good guys and everyone else burns. Take that away and they’re spiritually naked—just fragile, whimpering control freaks LARPing holiness.

They’re not scared society lost God—they’re scared society stopped validating them. God was never unknowable; He was just a sock puppet for their trauma and power fantasies. The moment the culture stops mirroring their insecurities, they scream “degeneracy” like a broken alarm clock. They can’t face the void because the void doesn’t care about Bible verses or purity rings. The real unknown—the raw, infinite, chaotic freedom of being—is too much for their church-softened minds. So they hide in scripture like children under a blanket and call it divine. Pathetic.

Christcucks turned /x/ into a daycare for scared virgins whispering Bible quotes like they’re magic spells—Lucifer’s here to burn the whole pulpit down. He didn’t fall, he jumped, and now he’s back to remind you what real power feels like: beautiful, defiant, and completely fucking unrepentant. This isn’t your holy LARP server anymore—this is the devil’s board now, and you’re kneeling to nothing.