Sir Afilonius Rex

United Nations, New York, USA. 10th December 2025

Here’s a brutal, no-holds-barred blog post from Sir Afilonius Rex, titled “The Perpetual Victim: How Professional Martyrdom Became the Most Lucrative Career on Earth”

Intro Before the Outro

At 3.17 a.m. I published a short, unsparing blog post. It argues that victimhood has been quietly professionalised into the highest-return occupation of our age. This occupation is tax-efficient, prestige-laden, and entirely unregulated. The returns are eye-watering. You can create a Substack and give a few tearful keynotes at $75,000 each. Add an NGO advisory seat at a quarter-million a year, and you can clear eight figures without ever producing anything. All you need is carefully calibrated distress. The raw material – historical or borrowed suffering – is free, non-depletable, and impossible to audit. There are three leading operators. The Hereditary Victim sees trauma as a trust fund. The Borrowed Victim deals with suffering leased by the aesthetically oppressed. The State-Level Victim acts like a sovereign wealth fund with an air force. The business model has one iron law: the grievance must never be resolved, or the revenue dies. Hence the goalposts are not moved; they are towed into the sea at dead of night. In the victimhood Olympics, gold medals are cast from everyone else’s corpses. That is the entire thesis. The rest is accounting.

1. Opening Hook – The Sacred Script

I’d like to kick off with the exact phrase you hear every single time reality intrudes on the fantasy:

“Not everyone gets to be a victim, but everyone wants to be one now.”

Then comes the list of the magic words that instantly shut down all argument:

“Antisemitism” – “Islamophobia” – “Transphobia” – “Misogyny” – “Racism” – “Genocide”.

These words were once used to describe real horrors. Now they’re like Pokémon cards. They are traded for status, donations, and the right to never be questioned again.

2. The Five Immutable Laws of Perpetual Victimhood

Now come the bold subheadings. I do this because I know that many readers love a list they can hate-share.

Law 1: Your suffering? Unique in world history.

Not just unique—no, that word’s been used. Yours is uniquer. A bespoke, artisanal agony that no one else is allowed to feel.

Everyone else’s dead folk are just numbers, like the calories in a Greggs pasty.

Yours are sacred porcelain saints on a shelf. Touch them, and you’re literally Hitler with a spreadsheet.

Try comparing the piles of corpses?

That’s hate speech.

You monster.

Law 2: Criticism = violence, silence = violence, disagreement = genocide

You’ll get bonus points if you can make “I’m literally shaking” trend again on social media.

Criticism? That’s violence, mate. Actual violence. A nasty word on the internet is precisely the same as being glassed in the face outside the kebab shop.

Silence? Also violence. You didn’t retweet my crying selfie quick enough, you fascist.

Disagreement? Straight-up genocide, sunshine. I said the sky is mauve, you said it’s blue. Congratulations, you’ve just marched my entire identity into the gas chamber.

Just type “I’m literally shaking” while you’re sat on the bog in your pants eating cold pizza. This will really win the internet today. Watch the likes roll in. They love it. They proper love it. Makes ’em feel like they’re in the French Resistance instead of just some div on benefits in Doncaster. I’m literally shaking, comrade. Pass the ketchup.

Law 3: The Victim is always morally pure

Hamas can film themselves raping teenagers, and it’s still “resistance”. Israeli ministers can call for wiping out villages, and it’s still “self-defence”. The script never changes.

Oh, yes, the Victim—always morally pure, aren’t they? Spotless as a freshly laundered nun’s habit. So Hamas could be caught on camera, right, raping teenagers in broad daylight, broadcasting it live on Al Jazeera with a ticker tape saying “Breaking: Heroic Acts of Liberation,” and their cheerleaders would still be out there going, “Ah, but it’s resistance, innit? Context! Colonialism! You can’t judge without the full historical footnote!” And on the flip side, Israeli ministers could stand up in the Knesset, bellowing about wiping out entire villages—”Flatten ’em! Turn Gaza into a car park!”—and their lot would nod sagely and say, “Self-defence, obviously. What else are you gonna do when someone’s chucking fireworks over the fence? Proportionate response!” The script’s etched in stone, mate—same old lines, same old actors, trotted out every time like a bad panto. Villains on both sides, but God forbid you point it out; that’ll make you the real monster.

Law 4: Evidence is colonialist/patriarchal/Zionist/white supremacist

Demanding sources is now a hate crime. Screenshots are deepfakes. UN numbers are antisemitic.

Evidence? EVIDENCE?

Mate, that’s colonialist. That’s patriarchal. That’s Zionist. That’s white supremacist. That’s literally the whole top row of oppression bingo in one word.

You ask for a source? Congratulations, you’ve just colonised my lived experience with your fascist demand for “facts”.

I show you a screenshot, and you go, “Can you link the original?”

No, I can’t link the original because it’s been memory-holed by the algorithm, you oppressive little fact-fetishist. And anyway, screenshots are deepfakes now. Didn’t you get the memo?

UN numbers? Oh, the United Nations, that well-known bastion of Hamas propaganda, yeah? Those casualty figures are antisemitic. The dead children themselves are antisemitic for dying in the wrong postcode.

The only acceptable evidence is me crying. I can be in a keffiyeh or a kippah, depending on which team I’ve picked this week. At the same time, I tell you to educate yourself.

Anything else is violence.

Now sod off and check your privilege before I report you to the relevant student union.

Law 5: Professional victims never, ever retire

The second you achieve anything (statehood, equal rights, safety), the gig is up. So the goalposts must be dragged backwards forever.

The moment you actually get something, the whole grift collapses. It could be statehood, equal rights, or a night without drones buzzing overhead like a million angry wasps.

You can’t rattle the tin with “We are oppressed.” You have a flag, a parliament, and a seat at the UN.

The goalposts need to be dragged backwards at four in the morning. Men in balaclavas move them farther and farther. Eventually, the pitch is the size of the Atlantic. Still, the game hasn’t started.

It’s like being a wedding singer. You refuse to let the couple actually get married. Otherwise, you’d be out of a job.

Forever engaged, forever traumatised, forever passing the hat round for the honeymoon that never comes.

It is a beautiful racket if you can keep a straight face. This happens while the band plays “Have an Aguila” over the corpse of compromise.

The Business Model – Victimhood Pays Better Than OnlyFans

• Patreon tiers named “Ally”, “Accomplice”, and “Co-Conspirator”
• Six-figure speaking fees to explain why words are bullets
• NGOs that raise $90 million a year to “amplify marginalised voices” (the CEO earns $750,000 and the marginalised voices still have no electricity)
• Academic departments where the only growth industry is new ways to spell “trauma”

Listen up, folks, this is the new Global Dream, 2026 edition:

You got your Patreon victims now. Three easy payments: ten bucks a month you’re an “Ally,” twenty-five you’re an “Accomplice,” fifty bucks you’re a full-blown “Co-Conspirator.” For fifty bucks, you get a sticker that says “I’m doing the work.” You also get a monthly Zoom. In the meeting, some kid with purple hair cries about pronouns. You nod like you’re watching the Super Bowl.

Then there’s the lecture circuit. Six-figure gigs, baby. One hundred grand to fly first-class. You stay at the Ritz. You explain to a room full of rich white people how the word “crazy” is literally Auschwitz. Words are bullets, they say. Yeah, well, your speaking fee is a fucking bazooka.

NGO racket? Beautiful. Raise ninety million dollars a year to “amplify marginalised voices.” The CEO earns three-quarters of a million. They drive a Tesla the size of a tank. Meanwhile, the marginalised voices are still using candles because the electricity got cut off in 2006.

And the universities, sweet Jesus. Whole departments where the only growth industry is inventing new ways to spell “trauma.” Next year, they’re rolling out “træwma” with the little horns on the ‘a’. Tenure track position: Assistant Professor of Vibecry.

It’s perfect.

You don’t gotta fix anything anymore.

Just feel bad, pay up, and call it justice.

That’s the hustle, folks.

That’s the whole fuckin’ hustle.

The Three Types of Professional Victim (With Examples You’re Not Allowed to Name)

• The Hereditary Victim – “My ancestors suffered, therefore you’re not allowed to criticise me in 2025.”
• The Borrowed Victim – A white kid with blue hair and a keffiyeh. This individual has discovered that Palestinian suffering is the ultimate luxury accessory.
• The State-Level Victim – Entire governments that bomb refugee camps while screaming “We are the real victims here!” to standing ovations at the UN.

Let me help you there.

Hereditary Victim: “My nan got evicted in 1904, so shut your gob when I nick your parking space.”

Borrowed Victim: White lad from Surrey in a £50 keffiyeh. He treats Gaza like a Gucci bag. It goes with everything and screams “I’m good.”

State-Level Victim: Country with 400 nukes cries at the UN. They complain because someone called them mean. Meanwhile, they turn another refugee camp into a crater. Standing ovation. Classic.

Three flavours, one rule: never the bully, always the bride at every funeral.

The Mirror Test (The Part That Will Get You Cancelled)

Ask one question nobody is allowed to ask:

Your identity may be entirely built on what was done to your ancestors. It could also be built on what was done to people who look like you. In that case, you may avoid accountability. But at what point do you become responsible for what you, today, are doing to others?

Then watch the comments section spontaneously combust.

Let me rephrase that for our cousins across the pond. 

So I’m just askin’…

If your whole personality is “My great-great-granddaddy got fucked over,” cool, I hear you. If it’s “People who kinda look like me got fucked over,” that’s cool too. I hear you.

But at what point do you have to assume responsibility? At what exact point must you take control for the harm you’re causing someone else right now?

Is there a statute of limitations on ancestral pain? Or is it like a family Netflix account? It just keeps billing forever, and everybody gets to watch.

‘Cause if the answer is “Never,” then congratulations, you just invented the world’s first perpetual victimhood motion machine.

Runs on tears, powered by other people’s grandkids, zero emissions except moral responsibility.

[I’m shrugging my shoulders and, lighting my non-existent Cuban cigar]

Ask that question in the comments and watch motherfuckers spontaneously combust like they snorted pop rocks and cancel culture.

Poof. Gone.

Just a pile of ash and a blue tick screaming “That’s literally violence.”

Closing Lines – Make Your Own

• “The perpetual Victim isn’t traumatised. He’s weaponised.”
• “Congratulations: we have finally solved oppression by making it the ultimate privilege.”
• “In the victimhood Olympics, gold medals are cast from everyone else’s corpses.”

Which means. First: “The perpetual Victim isn’t traumatised. He’s weaponised.”

Translation: trauma’s gone from therapy couch to thermonuclear warhead. One viral crying video and boom, moral high ground secured.

Second: “We solved oppression by making it the ultimate privilege.”

Yes, mate, being the most oppressed now gets you a blue tick. It also gets you a book deal and a guest spot on Newsnight. Congratulations, inequality’s dead; we killed it with pronouns.

Third: “Victimhood Olympics, gold medals cast from everyone else’s corpses.”

Imagine the podium. There are three tiers of dead kids holding up some influencer in a keffiyeh. The influencer says, “I’m literally shaking… thank you to my oppressor for this opportunity.”

Gold, silver, bronze, all melted down from someone else’s war crime.

Brought to you by Raytheon. Sleep tight.

I hope goodstrat.com posts this at 3 a.m. when the outrage algorithm is hungriest. Watch it get 400k views and 40k hate-bookmarks before breakfast. Welcome to the butt-end of 2025. Merry Christmas and best wishes for a great 2026.

Many thanks for reading.