For ten years, half of them in this magazine, I have rung the death knell for Hollywoke. Earlier this month, the unlikeliest source joined the bellringing — the New York Times. And when the Gray Lady backs up a conservative outcast like me, you know it’s the end of Hollywood as we know it, and I predicted it.

But the current James Bond is just the ultimate manifestation of the dying art of cinema.
As a movie writer and critic, I understood that once leftist ideology sublimated art, the whole business would collapse like the Soviet Union. Because it required driving out true artists, including the liberal kind who value storytelling over messaging, then replacing us with feminist hacks that despise normal men and traditionalist women.
Most of my peers in the screen trade cheered my expulsion, a good number of them my former friends. They forgot the unspoken rule of their philosophy, “You can never be woke enough.” When the grim reaper came for their jobs, it didn’t matter that they’d cursed Trump and supported baby murder. They were straight white males, thus personae non grata. Now they can’t find work. Though, to add to their pain, Donald Trump did — 47th President of the United States.
The feminist women and beta males who displaced us in the last two decades had little of our talent, only a mandatory anti-man, anti-white, pro-queer agenda. But they inherited one enormous advantage from liberal weaklings: Centuries of narrative art they could never have created yet now control, a treasure trove of epic heroes and romantic heroines to corrupt and exploit — the legacy of Hans Christian Anderson, the Brothers Grim, J. R. R. Tolkien, Walt Disney, Ian Fleming, Stan Lee, Gene Rodenberry, George Lucas, and countless others.
And despoil them they have, in a long dissembly line of minority-inclusive woke garbage: The Little Mermaid featuring a black starlet, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power de-Christianizing and confusing Tolkien’s masterpiece, the sexless Avenger...