Karl Marx was not just some economist scribbling theories in obscurity who happened to have a stroke of luck in becoming a household name—he was the architect of a worldview that treats envy as virtue, revolution as redemption, and the State as god. What began in the shadowy corners of 19th-century philosophy has since evolved into a global parasite, changing its face, its vocabulary, even its uniforms, but never its soul.
In universities, it now speaks in academic jargon and intersectional buzzwords, baptizing class struggle with the language of race, gender, and climate. In corporate boardrooms, it wears the suit and tie of ESG compliance. In public schools, it recites Critical Theory like catechism.
And in churches—perhaps most tragically—it creeps in through sermons about “equity” and “justice,” spoken by pastors like David Platt or Matt Chandler who are too naive or too cowardly (or not) to see that they’re preaching a gospel that isn’t Christ’s.
Marxism today is not a corpse of a defeated system. It’s a shapeshifter—alive, adaptive, relentless—yet always working from the same blueprint… tear down, divide, and control.
Karl Marx wasn’t just wrong, though—he was catastrophically, cosmically, flaming-Hindenburg wrong. And yet, like a theological cockroach crawling out from under the floorboards of a collapsed civilization, his ideas refuse to die. They mutate, rebrand, and reemerge, dressed in new jargon, armed with new hashtags, but always preaching the same tired gospel of envy, theft, and bloodshed.
You can spot it everywhere once you know what to look for. It’s the smirking undergrad with a Che Guevara T-shirt who can’t define “inflation,” the smug HR drone enforcing “inclusion metrics” with the subtlety of a gulag warden, and the wide-eyed activist preaching collectivism on a phone made by capitalist billionaires. All of them disciples—whether they know it or not—of a failed prophet whose grand utopia never delivered anything but piles of corpses and ration lines.
Marxism is not a political theory either. It's a parasitic religion for the terminally aggrieved. It canonizes resentment, sanctifies theft, and replaces the Kingdom of God with a bureaucratic meat grinder. It’s not content to tinker with tax rates—it seeks to raze civilization to its foundation. Family? Oppression. Faith? Delusion. Property? Theft. Identity? Fluid. The only thing fixed is your allegiance to the revolution—and the jackboot waiting to stomp on your neck if you hesitate.