There is no term more omnipresent, unsavory, and self-serving in our present vocabulary as "woke." Woke is security pin governmental issues, masturbatory imagery, and ethicalness motioning of a collapsed Left protected by calculations, channel air pockets, and program expansions that supplant pictures of Donald Trump with Pinterest plans.
Woke is a misnomer — it's in reality sleeping and nearsighted. Woke is a protected space for the handily occupied and cautious mainstream society ingrained. Woke is the Left nestled into a fetal ball writing contemplate Broad City while its privileges get stomped on by ascendant totalitarianism, locally and all around.
Woke is the simple catch: it battles treachery by sharing recordings of police severity to a reverberation of shock.
Woke is dispossessed of incongruity: it shares HuffPo articles about improvement from townhouses in Flatbush and Oakland.
Woke is speculative chemistry: it changes mistreated characters into promoting efforts, pattern reports, and new socioeconomics to advertise towards.
Woke is poptimstic: it trusts Jaden Smith turning into the essence of Louis Vuitton is sufficient to qualify as a success for progress.
Woke is content with the norm: it would be totally content if another financial breakdown happened tomorrow, similarly as long as the individuals who fixed it were adequately intersectional.
Woke is a self-righteous language structure nazi who studies the domineering jerk's stating of "quit hitting yourself," through innocuous gums. Woke is excessively moral to its benefit.
Woke is the honest to goodness truth of the new outreaching Leftist. Woke is the Left's united disappointments refined into a monosyllabic popular expression. A cry into the computerized scene prefixed with a hashtag, showing up at a similar point each time: #Woke is the strict direct opposite of progress.