Sinners

Forbidden Fruit - Sinners
The Expulsion from the Garden of Consensus (Forbidden Fruit, Public Domain, via Wikipedia.org)

Sinners

We were the sinners

the freethinkers

Perhaps we never changed a thing

But still, we did what we did because we knew it was right

the only thing to do

Unlike all the others

we had no second way

No options

No birthright to stay

Right would find us in the gulag if they found us out

But still, we had to do it

We had to think for ourselves

And everything our thoughts provoked

we either did

or regretted not doing

This is War

This is War
Image: Animals Australia

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.

My duty.

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!

The warrior.

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.

The Sway of Enlightenment

The Sway of Enlightenment

By The Bright of Knowing

Do your eyes see what others have hidden?
Do your ears hear the pleas of muted cries?
Does your grief reflect what others reject?
Do you comprehend concepts they despise?
Enter you, The Sway of Enlightenment.
Where dregs lie within Tombs of Yesterday.
Where your eyes light by the Bright of Knowing.
Where your ears discern Tones of Awareness.
Where pleasures paid debt to final Sorrows.
There you’ll live in the Sway of Tomorrow,
Today

Lamentations of a Veganarchist

THE ANARCHIST

The anarchist worth their salt must, by virtue of justice, be vegan.

THE ENVIRONMENTALIST

The environmentalist worthy their goal must, by necessity, be vegan.

THE ROAD TO SLAUGHTER

Few know the melancholy, the utter sorrow seething from deep within the souls of compassion, seeing our comrades, their noses pressed hard against the slats for their last and final breath of fresh air, crammed into a hauler on the Road to Slaughter.

IS IT

Is it tolerance or is it surrender?
Is it acceptance or is it cowardice?
Is it bravery or is it bravado?
Is it wisdom or is it vanity?
That you serve.

THE GUARDIAN OF DEATH

The Empire is the Guardian of Death, unremorseful and empowered by its constituency. But let one man kill another, no matter how just, then the Nation will punish him, malign him, and parade him as an aberration to justice, a base murderer, and its society will reproach him as infamy follows him beyond the grave.

ATTENTION

To those who pay attention, humanity is horrid.

AS YOU BREATH

As you breathe, millions of earthlings suffer in unimaginably hideous ways and all by the conceit of our species. Do not for one moment think all is well or improving lest you be lulled into complacency.

BROADER PERSPECTIVE

The evolution of broader perspective is stymied by obsolescence: God, government, culture, tradition, ritual, and petty, selfish, gluttonous concerns. These, the albatrosses of humanity weigh irrevocable on the backs of Liberty and Justice.

VEGANISM

Explaining veganism to a dreg is like explaining the universe to a fish in the ocean. Where dregs swim happily unaware in their Sea of Illusions, where waves of frivolous distractions crash upon the shores of Fragile Morality.

MY ALLEGIANCE

My allegiance is to no religious or political sway. Only to liberty and her innocent do I pledge my loyalty, my life. For I exist as free as any man can who lives under the oppression of Authority. My mind is unruled by the whims of man, his Government of Destruction, and his God of Misery.

DEATH, HER LIBERTY

Some fear death.
But it is this life that corrals my trepidations.
Death then holds my liberty.

America, Where Are You Now?

It doesn’t say who bombed the shelter. Even if it did, it would only be more finger pointing instead of fact. Misinformation and disinformation are the norms, and the USA may well be the leader in that arena.

What we do know is that America provokes and escalates violence and instability throughout the world and therefore is no less culpable.

The video has enlivened in me an emotion lying just beneath a thinning surface: America, where are you now?

The violence that America perpetrates in the name of national security is an elaborate hoax. Wars are the lifeblood of its burgeoning political-corporate-military-industrial complex.

War, as with the oppression of animals, many livelihoods depend on. And thus America has become addicted. A junkie strung out and unreasoned, convinced that war and animal flesh are both good and needed.

This never-ending violence angers me to never-ending.

I joined the USAF near the end of the Vietnam war, a confused young man. I stayed state-side, and so I don’t associate as a Vietnam vet, per se. Nonetheless, the stigma remains. However, the point I’d like to make is this, my final disillusionment in the people of a country I believed at one time desired peace.

Foolishly, I thought peace was the goal. And, I believed it attainable.

I saw the mass demonstrations during the Vietnam war. Young people fled to Canada. People burned their draft cards. Students protested, and four were gunned down at Kent State. The Ohio National Guard willfully turned its guns on unarmed, nonthreatening young American citizens and opened fire, a tragedy now nearly forgotten, known as the May 4 Massacre.

Inside me, I knew that once this war was over America would never fight another. Its people had had enough of war. Enough of sending their sons and daughters off to die in foreign lands. Enough of executing its citizens on the home ground.

Likewise, I knew that when people saw the brutal reality of animal agriculture veganism would become a wave that swept the entire world in compassion.

Was I ever wrong?

War protests are now a blemish on American history.

Animal enslavement has reached epidemic proportions.

The peace and love movement had died a silent, lonely death. Its aging hippies now very much defending the status quo. Trading bell-bottoms and paisley print for suit and tie. Peace for war.

To speak out against war is unpatriotic. To express discontent, the act of a traitor.

War is what we are; it defines us. Violence is what we do, daily in our lives, to the people, to the animals. It is on our plates, literally; and from there its escalation has no end.

And peace? Well, that’s just a word, a concept I can no longer believe in.

Although my bell-bottoms and paisley prints live only in the faded snapshots of an era long ago, I never have nor will I ever own a suit and tie. These are the garments worn by the representatives of Authority. They serve as a constant reminder of oppression and war.

As I write this, as relevant then as now, Steppenwolf’s, Monster, plays in the background and asks, “America, where are you now…Don’t you know we need you? We can’t fight alone against the monster.”

Freedom

Freedom
Image: PIA16909 by NASA; Font: Infected by AllencHIU cHIU

Freedom

I have a God; Her name is Freedom
She has children
Whose names are Vegan
Born to a Savage Planet
Bring sanity to a ruthless world
Mistake not their compassion for weakness
They are strong, courageous
With purpose
Fire kindles their Hearts
They are Vegan
They have a God; Her name is Freedom

Comparing Us to Animals?

The Animals
Image credit: Unknown. But whoever the artist, they did a mighty fine job. Kudos.

Us and Them, Let’s See

Who hasn’t heard numerous times before that, “You can’t compare humans to animals. That’s ridiculous.”

For example, you can’t compare the Jewish Holocaust with the animal holocaust or black slavery to the slavery of animals. Or, simply human suffering to animal suffering.

I agree, it’s preposterous.

It’s belittling.

No valid comparison can a rational person conjure.

What demented reasoning defies logic to suggest an identity between the two? Ha!

Double Ha!

What possible presentation could infer equality? Only, lunacy.

Who contests we have no equal? Who dare?

What animal, ever, in its existence, possessed the indispensable disposition to initiated a war. None! Damn you, I say, none.

What animal able of producing massive amounts of disposables to overload the landfills and fill the mighty oceans? Yes, only us, and us alone!

What animal ever invented machinery able to pollute the air, water, and land with such ease and indifference? The mere utterance, asinine.

What animal capable of creating genetically modified organisms, medicines, chemicals, and poisons able to sicken and disease every living organism? Oh phew!

What animal maliciously harms another? Rape? Murder? Steal? Lie? Cheat? Grab a pussy?

What other being commands such convoluted communication skills as to sow ambiguity and dubiety into every syllable? Bark, bark. Meow, meow. Moo, moo. Really?

What animal ever watched Jerry Springer?

What animal willingly surrenders their freedom to empower an Authoritarian Overlord? A government they bow to? And then willingly pays this Determining Absolute the fruit of their labors? Come-on.

What animal creates imaginary Gods to give license to injustice? Damn you; they have no such imaginings. Thank God.

Now, who fancies any animal even remotely capable of such atrocities as the Holocaust, or that of black slavery, or the genocide of whole native populations, or the extinctions of entire species, or animal agriculture? None!

How dare any dunderhead compare us to the animals. Idiots.

Why I Write

Loving mother and calf. Source Mercy for Animals http://www.mercyforanimals.org/
Loving Mother and Calf

Why I Write

I write for change.

I write to free the slaves.

I write to expose the criminals.

I write to protect the innocent.

I write to denounce the guilty.

I write to reveal cruelty.

I write for the voiceless.

I write for freedom.

I write for peace.

I write as though all the world is reading.

As if, all the world cared.

Animal Welfare

Mauritius 2013. Source: Animals Australia http://www.animalsaustralia.org/
Mauritius 2013. Source: AnimalsAustralia.org (an Animal Welfarist organization). Here we have a helpless bull, frightened and confused, guilty of no crime against humanity, held prisoner awaiting execution, tied tightly around the neck, strapped firmly and unmovingly to the rocky ground. This is Animal Welfare, at it’s very best. It is, unacceptable, at the very least.

Animal Welfare, the Diabolical White Angel

Animal Welfare, is not Animal Rights. There is a chasm between the two. Unbridgeable by any thinking person. One is acceptable cruelty; the other is unacceptable slavery.

Welfare is not Rights, no matter how you slice them.

Animal Welfarist, however, would have you believe animals gleefully wander into those peacefully humane slaughterhouses, relaxingly laying down to soft music, willing giving up their lives, for you.

Such altruism is phenomenal. Imagine it, if you can – Douglas Adams’s cow that wants to be eaten.[1]

Larry V on Twitter recently posted, “Animals go into the slaughterhouse alive & come out chopped into pieces & people like to think something humane happens along the way.

Thank you, Larry.

As with everything else the elite and powerful wish us to believe; as with all forms of slavery they unmercifully capitalize on and market to the gullible masses, this too is a lie. One of monumental cruelty.

So incredibly powerful is the sway of their indoctrination over the willing, that they so easily justify their selfish desires, their barbaric traditions they resolutely cling to in the name of God and custom.

Animal Welfarist have, to some significant extent, infiltrated the Animal Rights movement. They do, after all, have all the money and all resources at their disposal to promote their posh livelihood posing as humane revolutionaries.

They are not.

Don’t be fooled.

I’m reminded by what Theodore Kaczynski a.k.a. The Unabomber, wrote in his book, “Technological Slavery,” Where he writes:

“…the people who extinguish revolutionary movements are the people who are drawn indiscriminately to causes: racism, sexism, gay rights, animal rights, the environment, poverty, sweatshops, neocolonialism…it’s all the same to them. These people constitute a subculture that has been labeled “the adversary culture.” Whenever a movement of resistance begins to emerge, these lefties…come swarming to it like flies on honey until they outnumber the original members of the movement, take it over, and turn it into just another leftist faction, thereby emasculating it.”

Be wary The Adversary Culture, Animal Welfare.

[1] Thank you, BillZiegler1947.com, for your astute article that links to Douglas Adams’ Cow.

Hunters, Trappers, Anglers Alike

bear-hunters-kephart-nc1
Bear murderers and turncoat hounds – image public domain via Wikipedia.org

Hunters, Trappers, Anglers Alike

Psychopathy is an equal opportunity debasement. Spawned in every shape, size, and social order while infesting every sphere of human involvement. But fortunately not every human.

Among the top of the psychopathic pecking order, you’ll find the redneck, dimwitted hunter, trapper, angler. Just one small, nearly imperceptible prick below the ruling elite in psychotic potential.

To murder any non-threatening, innocent earthling struggling to survive among the infestation of humanity requires a psychopathic reasoning.

Period.

Killing is deplorable.

It is a violent, heinous act of delusion, hate, irreverence, and war. It is the last resort to an extreme adversity, at very best.

To view hunting, trapping, angling as a sport is the twisted logic of a psychopath, a madman. Or, as is often the case, a madwoman.

Participation in a so-called sport by so-called sportsmen where the odds are so incredibly overwhelming that there exists no possibility of failure, no threat of defeat, no risk of life or limb, where then is the thrill, the excitement, the challenge of the game?

There isn’t any.

It’s all a coward’s sadistic amusement, a psychopath’s recreation.