On several occasions, I’ve called myself a right-wing postmodernist, which confuses a lot of people. After all, Jordan Peterson says—Kermit the Frog voice—“Postmodernism is the worst thing to ever happen to Western civilization because communism and trannies, and also, wash your penis or something.” (I don’t know, I never read his books.)
Yeah, I get why the right hates it. Postmodern theory was used to deconstruct the old order from top to bottom. It was the analytical method used to critique, dissect, and dismantle all traditional social structures. To most right-wingers, postmodernism is nothing more than the social equivalent of a nuclear bomb. And if I were a conservative, I’d hate it too.
But I’m not. So I see it very differently.
The nuclear bomb analogy is decent but not quite right. A bomb destroys things instantly with a blast of energy, whereas postmodernism works over time. I see postmodern theory less as a nuclear explosion and more like the black goo from Prometheus—a substance that seeps into the foundations of society, infecting, mutating, and ultimately dissolving what came before. It’s a method of thought and critique that, once it takes root, spreads like a contagion, causing those of value to lose faith in the existing structure and metaphorically (or literally) burn it all to the ground.
So if you like the way things are, you should be vehemently opposed to any sort of postmodern analysis. But if you don’t, then you should consider unleashing the postmodern virus.
I, for one, believe that the core value of our country—and broader civilization—equality, is not worth striving for, and any social structure that seeks to bring it about as an end should be destroyed. That’s why I’m a postmodernist.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s examine precisely what postmodernism is—or was.
Postmodernism is a notoriously slippery term, partly because it was never a single, unified ideology but rather a collection of critiques, attitudes, and methodologies aimed at destabilizing grand narratives. Emerging in the mid-to-late 20th century, it was primarily a reaction against modernist ideals—things like absolute truth, objective reality, and the notion that history was progressing toward some definite, rational order. Instead, postmodern thinkers argued that meaning is fragmented, reality is subjective, and what we take as "truth" is often just a construct propped up by power.
In other words, postmodernism isn’t about offering a new vision of the world—it’s about dismantling the old ones, clearing away the rubble, and building a new social order.
So, what did postmodernism destroy? Christianity, patriotism, white identity, masculinity, femininity—traditional values—essentially everything that undergirded society before the Second World War.
"But Bliss, these things still sort of exist."
At best, they survive as subcultures, whereas they once stood as dominant hegemonic forces. The real question is: how did postmodernism dismantle them?
Postmodernism operates through a mix of deconstruction, relativism, and cultural subversion. It challenges the idea of absolute truths, replacing them with a worldview where everything is subjective, fluid, and "socially constructed." This mindset erodes the foundations of traditional values by making them appear arbitrary, oppressive, or outdated.
Take Christianity, for example. Postmodern thought reframes religious faith as just another "narrative" rather than an objective truth. This shift weakens its moral authority, reducing it to a personal preference rather than a societal pillar.
Patriotism suffers a similar fate. Instead of national pride being seen as a unifying force, postmodernism recasts it as a tool of historical oppression. Western nations, once celebrated for their achievements, are now viewed primarily through the lens of colonialism, racism, and systemic injustice.
Masculinity and femininity are likewise deconstructed. The once-clear distinctions between the sexes are blurred, replaced by an ever-expanding list of gender identities and fluid expressions. What was once considered natural and complementary is now viewed as an outdated social construct imposed by an oppressive past.
The result? A culture that no longer believes in itself. Without shared values, objective truth, or a sense of historical pride, the West finds itself adrift—uncertain of its identity and incapable of defending itself against ideological subversion.
Once this process is complete, you can put whatever values you want in place of the old ones. And they did.
In place of faith, they gave us state-enforced secularism and moral relativism. In place of patriotism, they instilled historical guilt and the self-flagellation of white identity. Instead of family, they pushed radical individualism, consumerism, and an ever-expanding alphabet soup of identities meant to fragment any sense of collective belonging. Masculinity was reframed as toxic, femininity as oppression, and race as the defining moral currency of our time. The pursuit of excellence was replaced with equity, merit with victimhood, and strength with perpetual grievance.
So here’s the $500-billion question: What comes next? When all the old values are gone, what do we turn to? And when they’ve been replaced with bad ones, how do you dislodge them? What should conservatives do when there’s nothing left worth conserving?
I think our predicament can be summed up like this: We lived in a house. Someone set it on fire, cleared away the rubble, and built a prison around us.
So what do we do?
Burn it down again.
Right-wing postmodernism, or postconservatism if you prefer, is not about clinging to the past but about embracing the chaos of deconstruction as a weapon against the present order. It rejects the naïve belief that returning to some lost golden age is possible or even desirable. Instead, it takes the postmodern toolkit—skepticism toward grand narratives, exposure of hidden power structures, and deconstruction of ideological illusions—and turns it against the so-called progressive consensus.
If left-wing postmodernism was used to tear down Christianity, the nation-state, and the family, then right-wing postmodernism asks: Why not apply the same acid to globalism, anti-white identity politics, the managerial elite, and the pursuit of egalitarianism as a whole?
The difference is that while leftist postmodernists sought to dismantle tradition to clear the way for their utopias, right-wing postmodernists dismantle the new orthodoxy with no illusions about what comes next—only the understanding that the current order must be torn down before anything meaningful can be built.
And yet, the irony is that the very tools used to dismantle the old order can just as easily be turned against the new one. The progressive establishment, once the champion of postmodern critique, now props itself up as the new arbiter of unquestionable truths—"diversity is strength," "gender is infinite," "history bends toward justice."
But if postmodernism teaches us anything, it’s that no narrative is sacred, no structure is immune to deconstruction. The same acid that melted tradition into a shapeless mass can just as easily dissolve the bloated bureaucracies, faggy moral dogmas, and dysgenic ideologies that define our era.
And maybe, just maybe, something better can emerge from the wreckage.
But that’s a subject for another article.
Life-hating leftist: “Morality is subjective to the lived experiences of individuals and cultures, and therefore meaningless.”
Life-affirming rightist: “Morality is subjective to the lived experiences of individuals and cultures, and therefore as meaningful as anything can be”.
Expand on this, write a playbook