Dear Reader! You are living in the most fortuitous time in human history. You can commune with an antipodean in real time. You have more knowledge at your disposal than any generation before you, and it can be obtained with greater ease and at breakneck speed. Yet the Truthseekers among you may feel desiccated by the frivolity and rank hypocrisy that emanates in our culture, which serves the powerful and the pavlovian-minded. Information can be, and has been, besmirched and muddied for Goebbelsian purposes, but you can join our push back against this as we go guerrilla. You can expose truths and shame devils. Your voice need not be crude nor eloquent. But do not be tongue-tied or silent. Or, worst of all, fearful.
“I’m A Storyteller, And My Story Must Be Told,” crooned the Minstrel to the Fox on Storybook International. He told stories from the furthest corners of the globe to the bounded fables in his village. Tell it as it is. We are unconcerned at what offence it enkindles. We are ecumenical upon most things. We respect subjective manners of holy and unholy conviction. But we totally disregard your feelings, especially if you ungraciously yield to them. The nominally offended thrive upon masochism.
If you’re riled by our publications, you can always close our books.
Some will confound satire with fire. They impugn readily, but desire to remain immune steadily. In spite of the amelioration of Bodhi and soul, they are still overcome with credulity. Forgive our tender disregard for your indignation, your conviction and your baseless superstition, but there is no subject unholy that is too holy for debate, no sanctuary untrodden for angels and devils alike to tred fearfully upon; no levers of piety to haul away from the mouthpiece of free inquiry because of your own ad hoc fears. For isn’t truth clearly distinct from falsehood? And aren’t I entitled to my truth; and you, yours?