Bwa-hah! The Night Thread™ has posted one minute early. Your perfectly calibrated timelines are ruined! I laugh in the face of punctuality and promptitude. Drop your specious concerns about antecedence and impertinence; throw off the shackles of punctilious fidelity to temporal measurement! Time is a flat avocado!!
Oh, I hear your snickers. Your barely suppressed giggles of childlike joy. “The Night Thread came early, I guess.” The entendres simply double themselves, do they not?
Yes, laugh. Savor your puerile humor, your jejune bawdiness. But you engage in this frivolity because you know, inside, where your conscience cannot deceive you, that such efforts are futile. I have destroyed everything you thought the Night Thread™ stood for, exposed it for the sham that it is, as easily as a Russian with an Internet connection can bring Democracy to its knees. Behind your laughter are tears. Weep, weep!
Yes, weep you must, for societal breakdown beckons already. Outside your door, the wolves have awakened. Your neighbors are loading guns, your children eyeing sharp knives. It is only a matter of time before the walls crumble and the roar of humankind set free resounds across the land. The night will be dark, and long, and it is coming.