A century ago, street preachers screamed judgment and redemption, channeling their fervor and insanity through faith, framing their cries within an accepted grand narrative.
Today, in a secular age, that passion is turned inward before being expelled: the individual subject is the grand narrative, the personal grievance replaces the religious outrage.
We now assert personal grievances without the constraint—or comfort—of a larger belief system, without a community to merge and shape our discontent, both reducing the impact of our fevered exhortation and making our outcry so unique it becomes fragmented, self-serving, and appears crazy.