The Xerox Empire

China is not a civilization—it is a photocopier. A moral void dressed in silk, humming endlessly in fluorescent sterility, churning out counterfeits of everything it touches: goods, ideas, institutions, and now even morality itself. The Chinese Communist Party has perfected the art of simulation without soul, progress without principle. It Xeroxes the surface of greatness while erasing the substance of good.

Let’s dispense with the polite nonsense: this is not “a different cultural model.” This is organized nihilism masquerading as governance. It is an empire that has automated deceit, industrialized cruelty, and outsourced its conscience. The West sees skyscrapers and bullet trains and thinks “modernity.” What it’s actually looking at is the gleaming machinery of servitude—steel and glass cathedrals built on the bones of a billion silenced prayers.

In Xinjiang, the CCP has constructed a dystopian concentration grid that would make Stalin blush. It is a sterilization factory disguised as a province. An entire people—Uyghur Muslims—are being methodically erased through detention camps, forced labor, and biological annihilation. The regime calls it “reeducation.” Orwell called it the future.

Every word spoken in Xinjiang is monitored, every prayer dissected, every family fractured. The Party’s machine has no ideology beyond control. It doesn’t persecute because it fears—it persecutes because it can. The Soviet Union murdered to preserve a lie. China murders to preserve efficiency. It is genocide not as passion, but as policy—administered in spreadsheets, optimized by algorithms, and justified by economists in European think tanks.

Not content with erasing bodies, Beijing erases belief. The state-sanctioned church is a theater of submission, where pastors are puppets and the cross is just another logo for the Ministry of Truth. The underground house churches—the last flickering lamps of genuine faith—are being hunted, their pastors kidnapped, their congregations scattered like early Christians in Nero’s Rome.

Religion, to the Party, is an intolerable competitor. It speaks of something higher than the State, something unquantifiable. It introduces the dangerous notion that the soul has jurisdiction over the self. That cannot be tolerated in a system where even thought must be taxed and certified.

The Chinese miracle is not economic—it’s medieval. It runs on the same theology as every slave empire: the worship of productivity over personhood. Behind every “affordable” fast-fashion shirt is a worker bent double under a 75-hour week, his body breaking while his overseer quotes GDP figures.

The regime calls this prosperity. It is the prosperity of a plantation. China’s economy is a grand Ponzi scheme of exploitation—mass-producing goods for decadent Western consumers too cowardly to ask what price their comfort costs in human time and blood.

China’s genius lies in its ability to imitate without understanding. It plagiarizes invention the way a parasite mimics a host. Every stolen blueprint, every hacked patent, every counterfeit iPhone is a small moral crime contributing to a grander spiritual one: the replacement of creativity with conformity.

The Chinese system cannot innovate because it does not revere the individual mind. It can only copy. It is a civilization of ghosts tracing Western outlines, reproducing the shell of progress with none of its moral architecture. The Xerox machine hums because it cannot think.

China’s partnerships with Russia, Iran, and North Korea are not strategic—they are confessional. They are bound by a shared faith in domination, a hatred for the West’s inconvenient belief in dignity. Together, they offer humanity a preview of the post-human world: obedience without honor, prosperity without freedom, order without truth.

The West, drunk on empathy and delusion, mistakes this for competition. It is not competition—it is contagion. And the contagion is spreading.

China is not rising—it is replicating. It is cloning cruelty at scale, exporting repression as a service, selling obedience like a luxury good. It is the anti-civilization, the negation of the Judeo-Christian moral universe. Its existence is a standing insult to truth itself.

To “engage” China is to feed the Xerox machine. To “understand” it is to mistake amorality for wisdom. The only moral stance is resistance—unceasing, unapologetic, and absolute.

Because a world remade in Beijing’s image would not be a future at all. It would be a perfect copy of hell—clean, efficient, and utterly without mercy.