Inertiacide (mr_reed) wrote in n_eugenics,

The Victorious

Behold, it is the winners of evolution! Do you want to taste the spoils of victory? Here it lies around you; touch it, that you might feel the texture of the results of your labor.

Here it is: paved and plundered; beaten and defeated. O green world, your tolerance was your weakness. We have won, and all the materials of your creation are ours. Leisure, which you lovingly denied us, is our right by blood of tree and grass and sea and sky and beast; all green will now turn to grey; all fresh will now turn to mud: this is our will.

Lo, cut down the forest, that we might use it’s tinder to light our stoves; pave the earth, that we might commute more easily; tame the beasts, that we might feed upon them. All things now are entitled to us from our Earth and all things hers are now ours, for we have beaten her: she is too shamed to resist us; it is futile anyway: we have stripped her naked and she will freeze for life is a cold thing.

Behold, my brothers, for now individuality reigns and we are all kings! The holistic are losers; they deserve not the spoils they won’t fight for: their love for Earth has crippled them to progress; leave them to what woods we don’t cultivate, that their hard lives in the wild teach them the value of leisure – for nature, she is a harsh and unforgiving mother. And teach your children to scorn the losers should they ever venture into our realm again: they are as cruel as her that is called Earth and would have the weak die, the sick unvaccinated and the poor without welfare!

Feed upon this feast, my comrades, for the table is large and the food is plentiful now. We have painted many pictures of this banquet and scribed many records; we will remember the taste of this sweet milk when we are finished and full. Good sir, you have earned this; let us toil over shortages tomorrow.

Look down from atop our Metropolis Kingdom, brave kindred: nature we are superior to; she belongs below us and our science protects us from her. We will fight her plague to plague should she infect with sickness; should she storm our cities, we will rebuild them; should her rivers dry up and bounty be consumed, we will find a more suitable host. We have set her to bondage and are gods now, and gods do not want for anything!

Never before has there been one as great as us ourselves as there is now; never before has there been one as much as God is as we are now.

Verily, progress is our virtue: the victorious have no need of elevation; we are at the top. So heed me, the defeater of nature and all things worldly, for I have found God from myself and want for nothing: preserve this way; it is all things modern and leisurely. From this our children will know no differently; it is their right—their entitlement—to be the slave-masters of this beautiful Earth: she is cold, brutal and loving, and from her births life unbridled and meaningless death equally—but only man is equal to man; no plant, animal or noble essence may compare!—and it is better to live a life restrained than to die meaninglessly.

Behold the winners of life: we have won, and the Earth, she is our bitch now.

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