There’s a reason we wrote it big. "Don’t Join A Cult." Not because it’s cute. Because it’s urgent. Because too many people are lining up behind slogans like gospel and pledging loyalty to ideas that would’ve made their grandparents puke. This isn’t just a message. It’s a red alert. And it’s hand drawn like something you’d scribble on the wall of a bunker before they come knocking.

This shirt is loud. Not stylish-loud. Siren-loud. Wonky lettering, jagged grass, flames, eyeballs, and smoke. Every inch of it twitching with energy. It looks like something that grew in a field full of lies and caught fire anyway. The letters pop off the shirt like they’re trying to escape the cult themselves. It’s a warning to the people still drinking the Kool-Aid and calling it patriotism.

This is not a general statement. This is anti-MAGA. Anti-Trump. Anti-fascist. Anti every movement that tells you to stop asking questions and just trust the plan. Trust no plan. Trust no savior. Trust no movement that can’t stand criticism. Cults don’t start with robes. They start with catchphrases. This shirt sees that and cuts it off at the root.

You wear this to Thanksgiving and it ruins dinner. You wear it to school and get called subversive. You wear it at the park and someone’s dad starts a debate he’s not ready to finish. Good. Let them. This shirt was made to trigger a thought. Or start a fire.

Available in black or dark green. Short or long sleeve for adults. Short sleeve for kids. It’s not designed to blend in. It’s designed to out people. You’ll see them. The ones who flinch. The ones who laugh too loud. The ones who get real quiet and ask, “What cult?”

Strange Gang doesn’t make comfortable shirts. We make flashbangs. You throw one on and the whole room changes. This is for the skeptics, the dissenters, the lifelong runaways from anything that smells like obedience. Don’t follow the crowd. Burn the script. Ask better questions.

Don’t join a cult. We mean it.