I spend some time watching TV with a three-year-old, the content all on some Disneyesque Netflix category approved by her mother. Thankfully the young lass is more interested in taking my bookmark and using it as a phone to handle calls for her imaginary ice cream and burger shop franchise, taking my pen and improving the cover of Jorjani’s Prometheus and Atlas, and ultimately using the book to stand on while she writes “pop pop” on the side of my bald head, then she is in imbibing the available propaganda. This argues for ADHD, if left untreated as it should be, as a possible block against corporate propaganda.

In a perverse way A Wrinkle in Time is the story of the fall of Western Civilization.

A brilliant ghost scientist disappears into Time.

His hot Asian-Negro-Caucasian wife has born him a quadroon hero girl, the protagonist and an evil Caucasian-Asian boy.

As his scion and scioness seek him out they are shepherded by three good witches: a cute, soulful dot-head babe, a smoking hot, insane, redheaded ghost woman and Oprah, oversized goddess of witches who is omniscient and omnipresent but not omnipotent, for only the “darkest mind” of the Whiteman and his evil male progeny is all powerful and hence all evil.

Evil is shown as Caucasian male jealousy of black male government authority figures, Caucasian thugs mugging an 80-year-old black man and a Caucasian father invalidating his son, who, cast out from the patriarchy, becomes the loyal ghost drone of the cinnamon hierarchy.

During the course of this adventure heroism is redefined as uniquely female and vested in shrill, stubborn proclamations of vulnerability.

The simpleton storyline essentially sketches the socially engineered suicide of mankind’s greater races and at the same time sanctifies the foundation of Postmodernity, which is vested in the Original Sin of the Masculine.