Since the rise of youth culture in the west during the fifties, identity of being a maverick, a rebel, a loner, and so forth has been sold to people like a good. It's in every movie, in music, in the halls oofery high school and the ingrained identity clutched to by our co-workers who ride their Harley Davidson's on the weekend, because doing what tens of thousands of other dudes with handlebar moustaches in their fifties is super rebellious. In this category I also place the wearers of gruesome horror themed t-shirts, punk rockers, goths, social justice warriors, and so on. The urge to be an iconoclast is in some ways as strong as the urge to follow. The rub is that most times people just end buying, and I mean that literally, into the self-perception they they are the slaughterer of holy cows, just like flock of sheep who have all been convinced of the same thing.
Has this been sold to us by some conspiratorial secret group on Madison Avenue hoping to bring about a Satanic Aeon? I hope so, and if it has been, I'll kiss the sphincter of the High-Mucky-Muck-Templar or whatever I have to do to be on the winning side of the conspiracy. I look good in a robe, and really they're more comfortable than pants (I never wear clothes under my magic robes).
The Wall