FCK THEM! Or Why Vegan Aliens Have Just About Given Up On Us
“Que se jodan!” (Fck them!). These are the words that came from the mouth of a politica of the ruling Spanish Popular Party (PP) referring to the unemployed getting their benefits slashed. These words were shouted out loud in the Spanish parliament as the PeePee bankster peen puppets applauded president Ratjoy’s announcement of even deeper austerity cuts.
“Fck them!” This sums up their attitude towards us in its most basic terms. To them, we are not just serfs who belong to them, we are also a dangerous enemy to be kept on our knees. The despise us for being the chattle we are, for meekly taking it up the asset while they spit in our face and steal our money.
Let’s be honest, they’re right. The problem is not them, it’s us. How much respect do YOU have for invertebrates?
The rich help the rich, but the poor do not help the poor. Ergo, the rich win and feel superior to the sheeple that screw each other for crumbs. Again, honestly, it is hard to counter their argument. The simple fact that cooperation is the most efficient form of human interaction is evidently too complex a concept for anyone but the rich to understand –and use against us, of course.
So “Fck them!” sums it up pretty well. Indeed, fck us, because that’s all we’re good for. I for one doubt there is another planet in this galaxy populated by a more sorry lot of losers than us. Seven thousand million “conscious” entities enslaved by a handful of flabby reptile worshippers is downright embarassing, really. Imagine being invited to a Galactic Confederation shindig over at the Pleiades to meet our neighbors and having to explain why our little blue jewel of a planet is a shithole of violence, corruption and despair brought about by a small reduct of criminals that we outnumber seven million to one.
That’s right, 7,000,000 to 1. We could fill their heated pools with our blood and drown them one by one, and would still have enough left over to do it all over again, as many times as necessary. Let them be sated, for one last glorious moment.
Our vegan hippy alien allies have the same problem with the human herd that terrestrial vegan hippies have with cow herds. And that is that the cows don’t give an airborne intercourse about their fate; give them freedom and they might wander, but never escape, much less turn around and fight (frisky aurochs excepted, of course). Many humans consider cows to be dumb beasts and inferior simply because they allow themselves to be herded and slaughtered without a fight, an irony which would be funny if it weren’t so sad.
The vegan aliens really DO care about us, like vegans care for all those cows feeding the gaping maw of the meat industry. But there ain’t much they can do for us than try to convince other aliens that herding humans for food is objectionable because humans have feelings too. Unfortunately for us, this is an old discussion that was settled long ago to our detriment. It took a long time to breed this human strain, and frankly, we are delicious (unless we smoke, in which case we taste like dirty ashtray… word to the wise.)
The point is that even if daring vegan alien activists were to slip security and knock down the fences of our pens during the night, the dawn would find us milling in a nearby pasture waiting to be rounded up and led back before feed time. So such an intervention would be an exercise in futility. And in the off chance that we actually get our act together and take a more hands-on approach to solving our current problems, no intervention will be needed and we can attend Galactic soirees without the shameful mark of a race enslaved.
But for now, we get what we deserve: harpies and vultures sitting in seats of power corrupted, feeding on the corpse of the body public and now telling us to get fcked. That will not do at all. The fcking we can handle; but the potty-mouth is WAY out of line, missy. A cow has to draw the line somewhere…