"We are animals and we are predators and tonight we shine. We dine on one another, but it’s only because we want you to like us. Actually, that’s not true, but the many will say that it is, so we might as well let them be servants. After all, they aren’t dictators like us."
There are many for whom this is only partially in jest . . . the boundaries between parody and the supposedly "real" world are often misty suggestions at best, and becoming moreso.
Lovely bit of edgy wordsmithing you have conjured up . . .
Brilliant! I didn't get it, this analogy the first time, because I only read the title and thought it's just another rant about inequality so, thanks for the repost and the " Hey - Dummies, yer gonna want to read this" . Although it's not surprising or anything new; your spin is hilarious.
This is funny because for years I’ve been joking about “Cooperation Island.” 🏝️ Basically the opposite of Dictator Island.
That's great. In a way they are closer together than one might think, especially if we're talking about places like Berkeley.
"We are animals and we are predators and tonight we shine. We dine on one another, but it’s only because we want you to like us. Actually, that’s not true, but the many will say that it is, so we might as well let them be servants. After all, they aren’t dictators like us."
There are many for whom this is only partially in jest . . . the boundaries between parody and the supposedly "real" world are often misty suggestions at best, and becoming moreso.
Lovely bit of edgy wordsmithing you have conjured up . . .
Thank you for reading this and especially thank you for understanding it.
🫰🏼🫰🏼🫰🏼
Lay Martial Spirit upon my heart.
Show ancient Way of lost art.
Teacheth my hands to war.
Reveal what steel is for.
Form a straight path through viper's den.
Direct my blade as directing my pen.
Press fear upon me, Wisdom's seed.
Instruct, that boldness take lead.
Hold hand holy over homeland and hearth.
Portion slowly, hold me to give wholly half
of infinity, roughly finicky, to lay to rest
same-mindedness to world's herd. To test.
Strap me in to the whirlpool blended bland.
Stir and tear out that stripe of firebrand.
Raise me incorruptible from trodden ash and bone.
Fish I no mere man, fine, I fish for Fash of tone.
Draw yonder hither, semantics surge my domain.
Heroic aspirant stand firm wherever slain.
In midnight oil toil to tell the not so tall tale of the stooge
enthralled to tools enthralled to fools
foiled by thin tinfoil.
Vincere e vinceremo! Once more unto the breach!
Tread in the tracts of treasure immaterial beseeched.
Offend! Me Ne Frego! Imitate the action of the tiger!
Jostle for elbowed place to cesspool's brim and higher!
Viva La Muerte! Lend the eye a terrible aspect!
Bathe mettle of faith and conviction in a molten steel casket.
For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.
Nihil Novi Sub Sole; chasing wind is vain.
Edify me upon that solid foundation, that Rock of Soul.
Abide with me, keep me, O Forger reforge me in whole.
For the house of cards be falling on sands into furnace.
Steel me to stand with you always Christ, in earnest.
1 Cor. 15:52
In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet:
for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall rise again incorruptible:
and we shall be changed.
You should have been at our salon reading this. Fire!
I made a rap song out of these lyrics:
Sinking lost in thought
Thinking was the cost for naught?
Unflinching as I gloss the fought,
drinking the pox it brought.
Cus' the rain keeps falling on just, unjust alike
as the vain heaps bawling on the lines I write.
I heard my calling as I'm already soaked.
Third time is charming if it floats your boat.
The flow goes in low rows of blows that sow this
grown bliss in a tone's kiss of your bones is
showbiz blown to bits in my zone of blitz
that condone this in a sole fit of rage, (rage against the dying of the light...)
And the soul of Man is defined by faith and deeds.
And the goal of Man is to fight the wraith of greed.
To indeed sow such seeds God's heart bleeds leads.
To free me of perceived needs I see meet
my fleeting meat I'm keeping beat under a stirring spirit.
Defeating cheats by leaking heat as I'm burning in it.
A paternal helm in the eternal realm, I'm yearning to win it.
O, Glorious Kingdom, O, Imperium of the Just!
Be born in us on wings of Immaterium come dust to dust!
Conquer hell and settle space.
Be not empty shell, dwell in God's embrace.
Beat feet to leak heat, be elite breed.
Go spell the Gospel of the Ghost well.
Come across as a cross to go across where most fell.
Leap of faith I take for the spoken of Unbroken.
I reap what I say and make if not for the sake of His token.
Unfettered, chains broken, blames soaken
in unlettered pains chosen to inflame the Chosen.
Mortify the body, glorify the godly.
Seek sainthood, seek good for good.
Be not weary, fear not, put your ear not to the world
for who's in it ain't greater than who's in you: The Word.
My far-reaching cry stretches
into starry sky and fetches
blessings and grace, it overflows!
Press into space to grow!
O, Glorious Kingdom, O, Imperium of the Just!
Be born in us on wings of Immaterium come dust to dust!
Thrice spliced, recombined less than twice.
Reborn. I breed scorn as I feel torn
In this twisting netherworld of words, weathered on board birds
‘Cause I feel light as a feather and ever brighter and better
Than ever before, I settle the score as I level the core
Values with the ground, salutes to the sound
Too brute to be bound, too acute for a hound
To pick up angelical voices
And I make the lyrical choices
That split the atom with a sword of the spirit
Never fathomed in a chord that can bear it.
Lord, You led me in this valley of tears
You let me shed all fears
With You all things are possible in a world without end
On your wings all is crossable and what I thought was bent
You make straight, You break gates and slake hate for Your Name’s sake.
Those things I chose brings close the ghost wings of most of the Host’s kings//
I tried my scythe on life’s wild highlights, never lose sight by fright.
Let Thy light shine bright through the tight lines I write.
On these shores I score more hardcore lore born for forlorn moores,
I tore four chords for more sure gore
Flying high skies to let my jibes dive in your might’s rise and shine
I testify
He makes my spirit fly
High enough to touch the sky
Brilliant! I didn't get it, this analogy the first time, because I only read the title and thought it's just another rant about inequality so, thanks for the repost and the " Hey - Dummies, yer gonna want to read this" . Although it's not surprising or anything new; your spin is hilarious.
🔥🎸🔥
What?
It's all good.
I think the essay is edgie and clever.
I like it.
You're a talented writer.
I think that Substack is fortunate to have you on its platform.
You're a writing machine.
You are highly energetic and motivating.
MY *compliments* to the author, Rachel.
How's that?
Thanks! I just didn’t understand you before.