This is war.
I’ve championed peace and struggled against undercurrents for far too long when all along war raced torrents through my veins.
Like screeching banshees clawing their way from Hade’s bowels, I cannot restrain my lust for war any longer.
War has proved the normality of our species and served many, many faithfully well; adding treasures to the coffers of serious self-concern.
To deny war is to deny my manhood as it is to deny our Creator Himself, the Miserable God, and His warring belligerents.
And I am but a lowly, ignorant form.
And so, I yield to the Lordly ways that our species has so aptly adorned.
War shall be my comrade, my pleasure. My desire.
Alas! The passive has withered and died and now from the ashes, I rise and cry: Warrior!
My face I paint.
I feel as though the pressing weight of Peaceful Hope has flown from my shoulders.
I can breathe, again.
I am a man, destined and fit to do battle!
And I challenge any who oppose me, fight. Fight as though all you cherish is at risk, as though your very livelihood depends on it. Because it does.
And I will be your formidable opponent, my word.
As our gracious Lords, have demonstrated time and again with their momentous and unmerciful wars of conquest, their farcical wars against drugs, their charade of wars against cancer, their pretense wars against obesity, their fictive wars against poverty, their collaborative wars against crime, their wars against every manner known to God or man, war is by their blessing example, honorable.
And I am an honorable man.
So, comes the time to declare my war, the war against the oppression of the most vulnerable and harmless among us, our fellow sentients. Those that you imagine feel no pain nor harbor desire for life. Those who you humiliate and call animals with contempt in your tone, those whose tortured remains you feast on with the least of concern; those who I’ve vowed their liberty to protect, I call friends. Them you kill or have killed in your name — and in the most horrific and shocking manner.
And for what do they suffer and die?
To feed the Spirit of War.
Innocent blood is on the hands of a rotten humanity wrought from the war slung venom that flows through painless hearts.
Make no mistake, this is a war. Where no bombs explode, no bullets fly no fires rage into the sky no sirens blare no medics care, and no war criminal is ever, ever held to account.
But it is a wickedly merciless endless war nonetheless that murders more earthlings than all other wars combined.
And for this, humanity holds itself blameless, for they are a shameless warring species.
This is war.
The battle of compassion versus cruelty, understanding versus indifference, right versus wrong.
And I am the warrior, wielding the Sword of Words, multi-edged, lightning-sharp, indisputable, and indestructible.
And I challenge you, the enemies of freedom, fight. Fight as though every lie you’ve faithfully accepted from the vomit of Authority depends on it. Because it does.
I am the warrior. Stand ready, this is war.