Laughing Into the Void:

When Comedy Gets Cancelled But Violence Gets Applauded

Let’s get one thing out of the way: we are not shocked. This isn’t a plot twist, it’s a rerun. A late-night comic makes a controversial joke, and suddenly the FCC’s got its authoritarian knickers in a twist, while another talking head casually suggests euthanizing unhoused people and gets to finish his donut in peace.

This week, Jimmy Kimmel was suspended—indefinitely—for suggesting conservatives were capitalizing on the assassination of Charlie Kirk. (Too soon? Too true? Too bad.)
Meanwhile, over on Fox & Friends, Brian Kilmeade said the quiet part so loud it echoed through every alley in America: that some homeless people should be “just killed.” His punishment? A limp apology and a full night’s sleep.

Welcome to America: where comedy is censored, cruelty is broadcast, and outrage is measured by how uncomfortable the powerful feel—not by actual harm done.


Our Cult Position: This Isn’t New. But It Is Unacceptable.

We’re not shocked, but we are calling it out—loudly, absurdly, and with teeth. Because if your democracy only protects free speech until someone jokes at a billionaire’s expense, it’s not a democracy—it’s a press conference with fascist flair.

Here’s how The Cult of Brighter Days handles the absurdity:


The Five Tenets, Weaponized With Humor and Honey Mustard Rage:

1. Be Kind.
We start here. Always. Because kindness isn’t weakness—it’s resistance. While networks are busy silencing comedians, we’re feeding people, listening to each other, and building actual communities. Not engagement metrics. Not viewership. People.

2. If You Can’t Be Kind, Be Nice.
We don’t waste our sacred rage yelling at MouseCorp subsidiaries. The monoliths are immune to moral lectures. So we redirect: our niceness is survival, not submission.

3. If You Can’t Be Nice, Be Funny (Without Punching Down).
We aim our satire up—where the rot lives.
Jimmy Kimmel: mild critique, suspended.
Brian Kilmeade: calls for state-sanctioned murder, still gets hair and makeup.
You couldn’t write better parody—unless you’re us, in which case you’ve already written three versions and made them into a musical.

4. If You Can’t Be Funny, Shut Up.
We’re not here to boost pointless boycotts. If it won’t change the system, we let it die in silence. Because even silence, when wielded well, is sharper than corporate PR.

5. If You Can’t Shut Up, Go Away.
When the system is completely, cosmically, irreparably broken?
We don’t argue—we build somewhere else.
Welcome to MuMu Land, baby. We have jokes, servers, rituals, and a flaming trampoline of radical joy.


Why We Don’t Boycott (And Why That’s Not Apathy)

We’re not boycotting Disney, Hulu, or ABC—not because they’re innocent, but because boycotts without leverage are performance art for capitalism.

Let’s be clear:

  • These companies budget for your outrage.
  • Your moral fury is just another line item in their ad strategy.
  • A thousand angry tweets doesn’t hurt a mouse who lives off algorithms and reboots.

Outrage without power is noise.
So we choose strategic disengagement and radical creation.


📼 Why We Archive, Preserve, and Yes—Pirate

We don’t rely on corporations to protect our culture.
We don’t trust billionaires to curate what we remember.

When media is censored for political reasons, archiving becomes resistance.

  • We preserve the uncomfortable.
  • We share what they delete.
  • We host what they memory-hole.

Call it piracy if you like. We call it survival in a culture that monetizes forgetting.

This isn’t just rebellion. It’s preservation of the actual historical record—not the sanitized version that survives in mouse-branded vaults.


Final Word (and it is a word—spelled with fireworks)

Jimmy Kimmel may come back. He may not.
Kilmeade may face consequences. He probably won’t.
But we will be here, laughing, shouting, plotting lovingly.

Because we are:

  • A cult and not a cult
  • A joke and not a joke
  • A prophecy wearing clown shoes and wielding glitter napalm

And we will not beg for space in a system that was never built for truth, humor, or justice. We’ll just build a better one—one meme at a time.

Be kind. Be dangerous. Be very, very funny.
And remember: we’re not the punchline.
We’re the revolution with a laugh track.