Jesus, Buddha, and Rumi Get Flagged for Violating Community Guidelines

Three mystics log on, speak truth, and get shadowbanned by the algorithmic empire

Jul 18, 2025

In a fluorescent-lit coworking space called The Incarnational Hub, three icons of wisdom huddle around a glowing laptop. The walls are lined with reclaimed wood, succulents, and slogans like Disrupt Your Dharma and Build Your Brand, Heal the World.

Jesus refreshes the screen. Again.
“I just got doxxed,” he mutters. “Apparently, turning the other cheek is now considered a ‘woke threat to national security.’”

Buddha, seated cross-legged in a Herman Miller chair, opens one eye.
“You could log off.”

Rumi leans in, fingers stained with ink and honey.
“Or write a poem so beautiful their firewalls collapse in reverence.”

They’re trying to upload a joint post to a new platform called Mythos—pitched as a sanctuary for seekers of truth. In reality, it’s a Trojan horse of affiliate links, algorithmic rage bait, and banner ads for rose quartz suppositories.

Jesus scrolls past a viral post titled 5 Ways to Weaponize the Beatitudes.
Buddha sighs as he reads Zen for CEOs: Crush the Competition with Stillness.
Rumi winces at a reel of a shirtless man reciting his poetry beside a Lamborghini, tagged #SufiShred and #DivineROI.

“Why are they quoting me next to a pyramid scheme?” he asks.

Jesus shrugs. “They quote me at political rallies. Usually right before praying for preemptive airstrikes.”

Another ad plays: The CrossFit Cross: Turn Your Crucifixion Into a Six-Figure Funnel.

Buddha opens a trending post: The Eightfold Path to 10X Growth.
He rubs his temples. “Is ‘Right Livelihood’ now just selling mindfulness NFTs to hedge fund managers?”

The comments below their own post start flooding in:

“Beta male energy.”
“Jesus was about personal responsibility, not universal compassion.”
“Get a job.”
“You’d reach more people if you added a funnel and some swipe copy.”
“Do a collab with Jordan Peterson.”

Suddenly, a popup:
Your content has been flagged for violating community guidelines.

Jesus: “What did we even say?”
Buddha: “Probably the part about detaching from ego.”
Rumi: “Or the line about love dissolving identity. They really hate that.”

Jesus clicks “Appeal Decision.”
A synthetic archangel chatbot named HaloLuv420 appears.

Hey mystics! We’ve reviewed your content, and unfortunately, it goes against our guidelines on Disruption, Non-Duality, and Excessive Metaphor. For your safety, your post has been buried beneath seventeen thousand sponsored affirmations. Namaste!

They sigh.

Jesus: “Maybe we build our own platform. No ads. No metrics. Just space to be.”

Buddha nods. “Where the self isn’t optimized, and every comment section is just a mirror.”

Rumi smiles. “A place where the soul can dance without needing a brand deal.”

They start sketching on a napkin.
Platform name: UnfollowMe.
Slogan: Come for the silence. Stay because nothing’s tracking you.

A nearby tech bro with a man bun overhears them and interrupts:
“Just make sure it’s Web3-ready and can support SoulToken NFTs. You guys ever think about monetizing the resurrection event?”

Jesus stares at him.
“I gave my life away for free.”

Tech Bro blinks. “That’s... like, not scalable.”

Meanwhile, HaloLuv420 returns:

FYI: Your account has been added to our Algorithmic Watchlist for subversive spirituality and refusal to niche down. Banned hashtags now include: #RadicalForgiveness #NoSelf #RealLove #KingdomNotEmpire #TurnTheAlgorithm

A slow hush falls over The Incarnational Hub.
The AI espresso machine short-circuits.
A crystal in the corner shelf explodes.

Jesus sighs. “I miss the desert.”
Buddha: “I miss the Bodhi tree.”
Rumi: “I miss... when people read the whole poem.”

They power down the laptop. Unplug.
No followers gained. No KPIs tracked. No dopamine harvested.
Just three mystics, sipping tea, composing a love song to the truth.

Jesus lifts his cup:
“To the trolls who think love is weakness.”

Buddha adds:
“To the marketers who hijacked stillness.”

Rumi finishes:
“And to the soul of the internet, wherever it’s hiding. We remember you.”

Then Rumi whispers:
“Silence is the language of God. All else is poor translation.”

Jesus nods.
“But it sure gets better engagement.”

And in that moment, as if the algorithm briefly exhaled, a notification arrived:

You have one new follower.

They didn’t check who.

If this stirred your soul, unplugged your autopilot, or whispered “You came for more than this” into your scroll-weary heart—share it with your fellow seekers, tip your mystical barista, or subscribe for more fire-lit dispatches from the edge of becoming.