"The Hill We Die On — An Unbroken Chain from Babylon to Now
This is not new. This is not rare. This is not over.
This is an unbroken chain of filth and blood that stretches back to Babylon, where kings fed infants to the fires of Moloch, and high priests licked their lips under the golden horns of Baal. It never stopped. The robes changed. The names changed. But the ritual remained: The powerful brutalize the weak and call it divine order.
And now? They wear suits. They throw parties. They traffic children on private jets and call it “philanthropy.” They film it, blackmail each other, then meet with presidents and walk red carpets. They run banks, churches, courts, kingdoms.
From the groves of Carthage to the basements of Belgium. From the altars of Canaan to Epstein’s island. From Boys Town to Hollywood.
Always the same pattern:
Take the child. Break the soul. Burn the evidence.
And we ask:
At what point do we stand up and fight?
What’s the hill we die on?
Is it after the next victim? The next dead whistleblower? The next court that seals the evidence and lets the predator walk?
Is it when they come for your child? Or your neighbor’s?
How many more tapes need to vanish?
How many more women must be raped into silence and buried in lawsuits?
We are ruled by ghouls in human skin, and we play by their rules because we still believe the system can be fixed. But the system was built on the bones of the innocent. You don’t fix it—you bring it down.
So we ask again:
What is the hill we die on?
Because if this isn’t it—
If stopping the brutalization of our women and children isn't enough—
Then we are already dead.
And our silence is just the whisper of a conquered people.
They believe they are better than us.
Smarter. Richer. Touched by gods. Entitled to flesh and fear.
But we are the flood, and they built their empire on sand.
Stand now.
Or kneel forever beneath the blood-soaked altars of ancient gods in modern masks." Anon
