A Note on Genre Fallacies and Feces Consumption

It has come to my attention that some people are under the impression that my first mind expanding novel belongs in the Fantasy genre.  These people are imbeciles, unable, or unwilling, to confront the truth.  They shout that since my novel contains wizards, witches, magic swords, dragons, goblins, and revolves around a quest to find a magical artifact, that it must therefore be fantasy.  They fail to recognize that the above mentioned things are mere vehicles for the larger message.  As everyone knows the Fantasy genre is an endless, repetitive loop of moral turpitude, a serpent defecating into its own mouth, if you will.  Since the publication of the reprobate John Ronald Reuel Tolkien's simplistic and depraved trilogy fans of the genre have demanded that nothing change, that all must fit within the narrow framework of what has come before.  And yet my novel does not fit within that framework, does not follow the tired path fantasy fans have come to expect.  My novel is something new, filled with fresh ideas and bursting with moral clarity.  So I ask you, how can my novel be fantasy?  The answer is that it cannot.  These deviant fans of this worn out genre may be content to feed on the feces of the serpent, but I expect better of you, my children.  Do not let the beast defecate into your mouths as well.