ROOM 11 THE GOOK – MISS HA and other stories

 

 

The Gook – Miss Ha

Of Wings and Turtles

Sergeant Shitbird

The Stalking

Private John Sandifer’s Suicide

The story of how Elboruh’s first free-enterprise anarchistic commune came to be.

Weed Seed Deeds

135A

The Prisoner’s Handbook

How to be a Successful Serial-Killer of Domestic Cats

The  Terrorism Gradient

Zio +

Off The Wall

THE GARLIC PEDDLER 

 

 

 

THE GOOK – MISS HA

by Larry Lee Slot

The Marine sergeant entered the tonsorial parlor and sat down to wait his turn for a haircut. He was only there for a few seconds before the tall Vietnamese girl called to him. “Troong shi, Me free.”

The Sergeant got up and went over to the barber chair, ignoring the angry gaze of Marines waiting longer than he.

Miss Ha said. “How are you today, Troong shi?”

“I’m fine, Vang. How about you?”

“Oh, me numma’ one.”

“That’s great.” The Sergeant replied, sitting down further in the chair to get more comfortable.

“You no come see me las’nigh.”

“No. I went on patrol. It was an unexpected mission.”

“You no can talk?”

“No. It’s classified, Vang.”

“Ya’ gonna’ ding Hochmuth, Troong shi?”

“What the fuck!? Where did you hear that, Ha?!” He exploded, sitting up straight in the chair and looking directly at the girl, then around the room to see if she had been heard.

“Guys talk.”

“What guys?!”

“Jis’ guys.”

“Jis’ guys who?”

“Jis’ guys.”

“Tell me, Vang! Who’s been wagging their fuckin’ tongue!?”

“Charlie and others.”

“Charlie”? Motor T Charlie?”

“Yes.”

“Charlie smokes too much thuoc fenh. He’s dinky dau.”

“Yes. Him dinky dau, but him know you, jis’ same.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You kill beaucoup mens.”

“Says who?”

“My sister.”

“I don’t even know your sister. How does she know me?”

“She talk to Kong sans.”

“Sooo? You talk to Kong sans too. Yer’ all half-commies. What difference does that make?”

“Kong sans say you kill thousand Kong sans ‘cuz they kill you siglo girl.”

“I didn’t know it was a thousand, could’a been, but anyway Mai was no siglo girl, Vang. I cared for her very much.”

“You kill thousand mens for me, Troong shi?”

“I like you Vang, very much, and I did go a little crazy after they killed Mai. But that was long ago.”

“Ten months you not in Chu Lai, Troong shi.”

“Ten months is a long time. I don’t want to talk about Mai now, please, Vang.”

“O.K. Troong shi.”

The two were silent for a moment, until Miss Ha said. “Charlie here this morning.”

“So you said.”

“Him say a cover out by where they burn the shitters. Empty now, no name on. Last night Hochmuth name on, full ‘a MPC.”

“Really? I knew there were guys wanting a piece of him for what he did at MCRD, because of losing his General star flag and shit. He’s considered an asshole, cutting liberty for so long, just to make a point.”

“You gonna’ ding him?”

“I never kill for money, Vang.”

“You Maline. You kill for MPC, not even real money, funny money.”

“Yah, you’re right.” The Sergeant laughed. “Even if it was 20 thou, though, I wouldn’t ding Hochmuth.”

“Why? You C’istian?”

“Of course not. Why would you think I’m one of those yellow bastards?”

“Alla’ Amelicans C’istians.”

“Bullshit! Christianity is just like communism . . . same evil shit. In Wahkee it’s just a shibboleth.”

“What shibboleth?”

“It’s just a way of identifying other spineless greedy pigs that believe they can destroy the entire world with impunity for their own pleasure. You’re a better true Christian than any of the Americans I know.”

“Why, Troong shi?”

‘You’re a commie, aren’t you? You know the Kong sans, talk to them. You’re poor as dirt. It’s just your job here keeps you from running with the black pajamas. Right?”

The frightened girl looked around and said. “No say that Troong shi. I lose my permit, no more can cut hair.”

Then, keep your mouth shut about Hochmuth. I’m sure not gonna’ kill the bastard. I don’t like officers any more than the next guy though – yellow pychopaths – make our lives miserable. We do not want to protect them as much as their peer group thinks we do. I don’t know who emptied the hat or who’s gonna’ ding Hochmuth, but good luck to them.”

Haircut finished, bill paid, the Sergeant left the barber shop. He hadn’t walked far when he met a fellow Marine and got the latest information.

‘The gooks hit another of our ambush sites last night, Lima Lima.”

“There must be a leak. Too many waggin’ tongues.” The Sergeant replied.

“That dick Brazelton was the squad leader. They may have been wiped out.”

“Enemy casualties unknown” A Farts reported.”

“They were wiped out.”

“Yah. Only his BAR man, Jacobs, was in Anh Thanh yesterday. If it was he that talked too much, he paid dearly.”

“Sure did. “

“Where else could the slopes be getting info on our deployments?” The Sergeant asked.

“Can’t be sure, but if it were me making those decisions I’d keep everyone out of the barber shop.”

“You think the slope barbers are VC?”

“Everyone does. You talk to Missy Ha all the time. You sure you don’t give her info that she gives to the gooks?”

“I don’t think so.” The Sergeant replied, pensively. “We talk about lots but never military stuff.”

“You’re fucking her. She knows when you leave and when you get back. The brass don’t allow fraternizing with the indigs for a reason. Could be you that’s giving us away.”

“I’ll look into it. Thanks for the tip.”

“Right.”

The Sergeant thought about what the other Marine said. It made sense. Maybe Vang was indeed relaying info she got from him to the commies. If she was responsible for getting Marines killed, so was he. She must be stopped if it was true. He would need to bait a trap for her.

Two could play the information game. He finished chow and made his way to her hut. She gave him a rice beer and some hammer-head shark with nuoc muon. He made love to her and started a conversation. He was alert to any questions she might propound.

Nothing suspicious came out of her mouth. “How could he be so mistrusting?” He thought. She talked about a nice wood-stock Swedish K she got somewhere. He asked to see it. It was a beautiful weapon, worth 20 M-16s.  He was holding the piece and practiced sighting it. He knew she would give it to him, if he asked. He did not.

He was about to leave when she asked if he would be by the next night or stop in the tonsorial parlor. The sergeant was pretty sure the girl thought she was in love with him. All the indications were there. He assumed she would not relay any patrol knowledge to the commies if she thought she would be endangering him, personally. So, he told her he would be by the next night, and then he left.

The next day, he let it be known to a few Marines of the compound that another sergeant would be taking a patrol out into the Babalu region off Highway One. That part of I Corps was rife with black pajamas. A patrol, out into that sector, would be sure to make contact anyway. He would need some means, other than just an isolated firefight, of singling out his girlfriend, if she was indeed a Viet Cong. How could he get the exact location telegraphed to her without letting it appear it came from him? Charlie! Vang trusted Charlie.

The Sergeant had an excuse. Hochmuth’s impending demise. Off he went to Motor T. He walked through the Butler building door. Before he even started to look around, Charlie shouted. “Hey, Sarge. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Came, looking for you.”

“Really? Wanna’ do some thuoc fenh?”

“No, man. I wanna’ know why yer’ telling Miss Ha about a contract out on General Hochmuth?”

“Shit! Did I mention that? . . . To her?!”

“She said you did.”

“Wow! I must’a been really wasted.”

“Yah. You must’a’been really wasted!”

“Gotta’ stop smoking dope and drinking too. I guess I can’t handle it.”

“Guess ya’ can’t. If Hochmuth finds out there was a hat out for him past the shitters, he’ll make that shit he pulled in San Diego look like a Mazzola party.”

“Damn straight! Sorry, Sarge.”

“Keep a better clamp on yer’ mouth, Charlie. I mean it.”

“Right. Is that all you came up here for, to chew me out?”

“No. I got a job for you. I need you to go and get yer’ hair cut this afternoon. I want to find out if Miss Ha is sinking our ships.”

“What do I do?”

“Act dinky dau. Let her know you know where the S & D patrol is going tonight. Don’t tell her you know, just let her know you know, without spelling it out. Can you do that?”

“Maybe. Help if I really did know.”

“At 0100 hours, Matt Lewis is gonna’ take his squad up the river from where it bends at the sand wash and set up an ambush on the Babalu trail.”

“Right.”

From 2500 feet that night the river shone like silver in the moonlight. The Bell 206 Huey chopper descended. The color got to be more of a muddy gray as they hovered over the jungle foliage at 800 feet. It was a few minutes before midnight when the Sergeant disembarked from the chopper on the river bank with his 14 man squad. They silently went upriver in a rubber raft to a few hundred feet past the sand wash bend. Here they again disembarked and made off into the jungle near the Babalu trail.

About 200 meters from the heaviest traveled part of the trail, the Sergeant stopped. Here was a little-used smaller trail that got only seasonal traffic. He began to deploy 6 of his marines for a standard L – ambush. His corporal, Zutelli, he left about 300 yards back, nearer the river with the remaining 7 Marines.

It was almost 0300 hours when the 30 cal. chatter began to break the silence. It bathed the ambush site in lead. The sergeant shot off an illumination grenade, and it lit the night jungle sky like a psychedelic dream. The firefight continued for another 10 minutes before Corporal Zutelli made his appearance, and the gooks began doing some seriously dying. The second illumination grenade brought the carnage into better focus. The Sergeant viewed the scene dispassionately, until he got that feeling of impending doom. He sensed, peripherally, one of the last of the living gooks was bearing down on him from the rear. He could almost feel his last breath being taken, but instead he heard a feminine voice he recognized. “Me sorry, Troong shi. Me not think you be here tonight. Me not know.”

Not really believing he still breathed, the Sergeant turned around and replied. “I know Vang. I wanted it that way.”

“You cheat me. Troong shi.”

“Yah, Vang. I cheated you.”

“Me think me no need permit no more. No more give haircuts.”

“No more haircuts.”

“No more come me bed at night.”

“No more nights together, Vang.”

“Me think you neva gonna’ ding thousand Kong san for me.”

“No, Vang, not even one.”

He could see the moisture under the girl’s eyes, when she said. “Me think you wrong, Troong shi. You gonna’ ding one for me.”

When the last of the gooks was dead, the Marines took the body count, and the re-united squad returned to the river – no KIAs, two WIAs, no prisoners. On the sand wash at the river’s bend they found Motor T Charlie’s broken body. His throat was cut and a carbine round had perforated the back of his skull. His genitals were tightly ensconced in his mouth.

Back at the camp, a few minutes after reveille, the sergeant heard someone calling out to him. “Hey, Lima Lima. Did you hear the news? Hochmuth’s dead. Someone satchel charged his chopper yesterday near Hue. Colonel David died too.”

The news didn’t affect him much, as he seemed too pre-occupied. Just keeping his equilibrium was difficult. A crushing weight bore down on him with a force from which he thought he could never recover. All he felt were reverberating audio vibrations that wouldn’t stop. “You gonna’ ding one for me.”

 

 

 

Of Wings and Turtles

by Larry Lee Slot

Once upon a time there were four little turtles that lived near a large lake in the jungle. These turtles thought they were very wise. They never stuck their necks out very far, because they knew it was dangerous. They were also very timid. They walked about very slowly and never ventured too far from home in any one direction. One day, one of the turtles saw a bird. The turtle let his neck stretch out enough to watch the bird better. He saw the bird fly from tree to tree and branch to branch, picking berries and sampling fruit wherever it went. The turtle called to the other turtles and they all stuck out their necks to watch. They all became very envious of the bird and shouted out to her. When they got her attention, the turtles asked her how they could become as free as she.

“Oh, that’s easy,” said she. “All you need to do is go to the great cave on the hill and ask the wizard of the jungle to take away your shell and give you wings.”

“Really?” The turtles replied in unison.

“Really.” The bird answered.

The turtles talked it over. Only one finally got up enough courage to make the long journey to the great cave on the hill. He asked the wizard for wings and was told to turn in his protective shell. The wizard’s helpers exchanged it for a brand new set of wings. The newly fledged turtle flew over the lake and visited his old friends.

“How beautiful are your wings,” they exclaimed. “How free you must feel.”

“Yes,” said the winged fellow. “I feel so much more free and happy. I see so many things I never saw as a turtle. I think with all the experience I get I shall one day become very much wiser than I ever could have been as a turtle.”

The other turtles were unhappy about that and vowed never again to speak to their old friend. They often watched him flitting about enjoying his new life, and it made them very pensive. They talked about it and remarked how happy they might be if they too went and got a pair of wings.

“No,” they agreed. “It is too dangerous to move about without a shell for protection. We were born to be turtles, and we should not try to change our fate.”

So, they just watched their former friend and imagined how wonderful it must be to be free. One day, the three turtles saw the winged former turtle, bleeding on the ground. He was cut and torn, displaying some very large nasty wounds.

“What happened to you?” They all asked. “How did you come to be so hurt?”

“Oh, I am so ashamed!” He explained. “The other birds warned me too, but I didn’t listen as well as I should have, I guess. I was resting in an apple tree, near the lake, when a cat jumped down upon me. I was so scared; I nearly died right then and there from fright. The monster bit & clawed me. I fell off the tree and onto the ground. If I hadn’t encountered a fallen tree under which to hide, the cat would have killed me straightaway. As it was, he nearly did kill me, anyway. I barely escaped with my life.”

“See?” The turtles all shrieked. That never would have happened to you if you had not relinquished your shell.”

“Very true, my friends.” He replied. “But I would do it all again, just the same, even with the danger. Freedom, joy and peace are much more valuable than safety. You can never know, without losing it, how much the shell’s protection enslaves you and limits your life.

 

One’s fate limits only to the extent one allows it the dominion of the soul.

 

(The following Portuguese translation is not completely correct or verbatim. The original English has been edited since I made the attempt at a translation. Time pressure and internet access problems have precluded a second translation. The story is no different than a few words and some punctuation.)

De Asas e Tartarugas

de Larry Lee Slot

Era uma vez, havia quatro tartaruguinhas que viviam perto de um grande lago na selva. Estas tartarugas pensava que eles eram muito sábios. Eles nunca esticou o pescoço muito longe, porque eles sabiam que era perigoso. Eles também foram muito tímidos. Eles caminharam muito lentamente e nunca se aventurou muito longe de casa, em qualquer direção. Um dia, uma das tartarugas viu um pássaro. A tartaruga deixou seu pescoço esticar o suficiente para ver o pássaro melhor. Ele viu o pássaro voar de árvore em árvore e galho em galho, pegando frutas e amostrava os fruto por onde ele passava. A tartaruga chamada para as outras tartarugas e todos eles esticou o pescoço para ver. Eles se tornaram muito invejoso da ave e perguntou-lhe como eles poderiam se tornar tão livre quanto ela.
“Ah, isso é fácil”, disse ela. “Tudo que você precisa fazer é ir para a grande caverna na colina e pedir ao Magico da selva para tirar o seu escudo e dar-lhe asas.”
“Sério?” As tartarugas responderam juntas.
“Realmente.” O pássaro respondeu.
As tartarugas falavam sobre isso. Apenas um, finalmente tomou coragem o suficiente para fazer a longa viagem para a grande caverna na colina. Ele pediu ao Magico para as asas e transformou em seu escudo protetor. Ajudantes do Magico trocou-a por um novo conjunto de asas. A tartaruga recém-desenvolvido voou sobre o lago e visitou seus velhos amigos.
“Que formosas são suas asas”, exclamaram. “Como você deve se sentir livre.”
“Sim”, disse o companheiro alado. “Eu me sinto muito mais livre e feliz. Vejo tantas coisas que eu nunca vi como uma tartaruga. Eu acho que com toda a experiência que eu tenho eu um dia se tornar muito mais sábio do que eu jamais poderia ter sido como uma tartaruga. ”
As outras tartarugas estavam descontentes com isso e prometeu nunca mais voltar a falar com seu velho amigo. Eles muitas vezes o viu voando e desfrutando de sua nova vida, e ele ficou muito pensativo. Eles conversaram sobre o assunto e comentou o quanto feliz eles poderiam ser se eles também fosem pegar um par de asas.
“Não”, eles pensaram. “É perigoso demais para se moverem sem um escudo de proteção. Nascemos para ser tartarugas, e não devemos tentar mudar o nosso destino. ”
Então, eles viram o seu ex-amigo e imaginarão como ele deve ser grande para ser livre.
Um dia, as três tartarugas viu a tartaruga alada anterior, sangrando no chão. Ele foi cortado e rasgado, exibindo algumas feridas muito grandes desagradáveis.
“O que aconteceu com você?” Todos eles falaram. “Como você chegou a ficar tão machucado?”
“Oh, eu estou tão envergonhado!”, Explicou. “Os outros pássaros me avisou também, mas eu não ouvi bem como eu deveria ser, eu acho. Eu estava descansando em uma macieira, perto do lago, quando um gato pulou em cima de mim. Eu estava tão assustado, eu quase morri ali mesmo de susto. O gato arranhou-me. Eu caí da árvore e no chão. Se eu não tivesse encontrado uma árvore caída teria que me esconder, do gato ou teria me matado imediatamente. Bem ele quase me matou, de qualquer maneira. Eu mal escapei com a minha vida. ”
“Vê?” As tartarugas toda gritou. Isso nunca teria acontecido com você, se você não tivesse abandonado a sua concha “.
“É verdade, meus amigos.” Ele respondeu. “Mas eu faria tudo de novo, da mesma forma, mesmo com o perigo. Liberdade, alegria e paz são muito mais valiosas do que a segurança. Você nunca pode saber, sem perdê-lo, o quanto de proteção do reservatório escraviza e limita a sua vida. ”

(One’s fate limits only to the extent one allows it the dominion of the soul.)

Destino limites so ate a alma esta enscravidade a ele.

 

Sergeant Shitbird

by Larry Lee Slot

He could not make things fall into chronological order, without significant gaps in the narrative, and it bothered him for years. It was not just idle curiosity after years post-trauma. No matter when he attempted it, even while still in Vietnam, he never could remember.

If he pushed and tried too hard, he would snag a recurring nightmare. It was a worse stimulus to nighttime horror than eating raw horseradish. First, he would be strangling the life out of a black-pajama’d commie. Then a baby, his daughter, would appear in his lap, covered in blood. For years, he wouldn’t hold the child for more than thirty seconds for fear of seeing her covered in blood.

One day, he couldn’t take the nightmares anymore and just gave up trying to remember. It wasn’t worth the pain. Now, his best memory of the broken chain of 1967-68 events began around December 1967 in Vietnam. It was a few days after the Colonel took him into his office and said that the Board of Inquiry was not going to recommend his courts-martial. That relief must have sparked a noteworthy reason to never forget the following:

 

It started with his questionable behavior in November of 1967, the cause of the meeting with the Colonel. The ammo dump in Phu Bai blew up. The fire started over the concertina from his Foxtrot sector. He saved the lives of a couple of squads of men by driving a front-end loader down into the 350 & 500 pound bomb magazine. Until he reached the loader, the air around him was a cloud of 7.52 rounds. The bullets were so thick he could hear them passing him by like a swarm of bees.

A strange protective envelope seemed to form. Rounds appeared to curve around him, and he was not hit. Eerie protection like this happened to him 6 times while in Vietnam and at other times after combat. He never should have survived these occurrences, yet he did. It was disconcerting . . . being an atheist. It was as if some supernatural force was protecting him, killing all others or letting them survive only because of accidental proximity to him. He often felt some special use was planned just for him because of it.

As it happened, while engaged in the rescue of the trapped troopers, getting them behind the loader’s protecting scoop, he needed to strike and kick a cowardly Marine Gunnery Sergeant. That act violated military discipline, for which the junior man required punishment. The Silver Star for Bravery was the chip alternative held in abeyance. It seemed there was a lieutenant that needed a medal of such caliber for future political ambitions. So the Sergeant in question traded his quasi-kudo-gain of a Silver Star for the highly desired loss of extended brig time. Military Justice was served.

Perhaps, it was because he couldn’t remember the events leading up to his near-death experiences that kept him trying so hard to discover them. He remembered his narrow escapes but not the immediate preceding or aftermath. From what he understood, this was atypical of post-traumatic events. One usually remembered the events surrounding but not the trauma itself. Not so with him. Why? Imagination? Was he remembering things that never happened? Was he just another Vietnam Veteran nut case? If so, why did he always remember just the same bits and pieces, but never the entire scenario? His story begins on one of those near-death adventures. Let the reader decide.

 

The sergeant stood at attention before Warrant Officer Condon in the Phu Bai FLSG-A Butler Building.

“WHAT is this BULLshit, you placed here before me, Sergeant!?”

“Chits, Sir.”

“I can see that, ASSHOLE! Chits for WHAT?!”

“Liberty, Sir. The Colonel said if we catch rats, we get one day of liberty for every 3 rats taken out of circulation.”

“The HELL you do! There are hundreds of chits here!”

“270, Sir.”

“So, you think I’m gonna’ give you 90 days leave, do you?”

“Yes, Sir. The Colonel said . . .”

“Fuck the goddamn Colonel.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You are a SHITBIRD! You know that, Sergeant Asshole?”

“If the Warrant Officer says so, Sir.”

“You know I’m giving you an Unsatisfactory Fitness Report, this period, don’t you?”

“No, Sir. I did not.”

“Well, I am. You are an unmotivated trooper and a burden on the Corps. If you ever had any ideas about making the Marine Corps a career, this will make your future mighty grim.”

“Yes, Sir. I did not, Sir.”

“I don’t know what Headquarters Marine Corps is thinking, giving an 18 year-old kid Sergeant’s stripes. How did you ever get your pro & con marks up so high?”

“I studied very hard, Sir.”

“Well, you can shove these chits up yer’ ass. Got that Sergeant Shitbird?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Sergeant Shitbird . . .”

“Yes, Sir?”

“How did you catch 270 rats in less than a week? Or, should I ask . . . how did you get all these chits?”

“I worked very hard, Sir.”

“I doubt it, asshole. I’ll take these chits, anyway, and give you a month’s liberty.”

“Yes, Sir.”

 

The Sergeant, carrying just his M-16 rifle, caught the first six-by he saw moving on Highway One. He headed for Dong Ha – not China Beach, as was expected of him. He liked clean girls. China Beach or its Da Nang sister, Dogpatch, had very few. As he sat with other Marines in the six-by, he smiled, thinking about how he’d obtained those rat-chits.

Colonel Lowe was on a health kick – no disease (hence the “kill rats” idea), no beer, no grass, and no snatch. “A happy Marine is a frivolous Marine”, he maintained. Anyone caught with a joint, sunburn, or VD was headed to the brig. Marines were starved for some fun. No one dared buy any Vietnamese grass . . . except the Shitbird Sergeant.

As soon as he heard about the rats-for-liberty deal, he grabbed a ride into the village of Anh Thanh. In Anh Thanh, he bought a mua (~~kilo) of thuoc fenh (marijuana) for 500 dong ($5). The Sergeant smuggled it back into the enclave and rolled some joints with it. Then he offered grass for sale . . . for rats. Finding many takers, the Sergeant bought nearly all the rats, Marines captured, with the joints, one joint per rat.

He spent the entire mua on rats, using surrogate confederates to claim his liberty-chits. After the grass was gone, he dug a hole under the supply fence yard. Stealing 60 of his earlier turned-in rats, the Sergeant re-turned these again for another 20 chits, repeating the process the following day. When he had enough chits for 3 month’s leave, he stopped. The rat-officer was getting suspicious.

Peptic-ulcer’ed Condon was being a jerk. But that was what officers were for, so he accepted it. A month’s leave was better than dodging mortars & rockets every night and boring work every day. Anything was better than being a sitting duck, scared to death, waiting to die, and not being able to do anything about it. He’d solved the problem, creatively.

All set now to enjoy a month in some Dong Ha girl’s arms, or helping the grunts kill gooks, the Sergeant was unexpectedly detained. A Marine Captain impressed him into the Dong Ha Grave’s Registration business. He had not planned on working during his leave. The Captain was adamant, however, and the disciplined Sergeant obeyed. It was not an enjoyable diversion.

At first, he had to go out with others into the field, after firefights ended, and pick up bodies and assorted parts. Insertion of body parts into plastic body-bags preceded their delivery into big green walk-in freezers. While awaiting delivery stateside, the stacked bodies made silent roommates for the Sergeant at night. He contracted with a mess-hall pogue to have ½ pint cartons of milk delivered to him each morning. These he ensconced carefully between his co-tenants.

The Sergeant now enjoyed ice cold milk to make his daily trials more benign. After a week of such noise, he discovered a way to hide with his frozen colleagues and sleep through morning roll-call. He emerged tentatively only after the other Grave’s Registration troopers went out on their body scavenging rounds. After about 2 weeks in his new digs & profession, having caught up on months of lost sleep, he found a way to escape. He would miss the cold milk and good company.

But, once again on Highway One, he forgot the good life. There would be no more impressing him into distasteful tasks. He was finally on the liberty he had fought so hard to obtain! Then it happened, the hiatus, the no continuity. Like some heinous fugue, one minute he was walking along the highway, enjoying his freedom, and the next he was in an entirely new environment.

He found himself pulling a dead Marine out from behind an M-60 position and throwing a bandoleer into the gun’s breech. The Chinese-looking gooks were all trussed up with cords and rags, which looked like tourniquets, on their arms and legs. He fired and fired, but they kept stumbling toward him, over the concertina, like zombies. He killed steadily, putting bandoleer after bandoleer into the machine gun until the barrel became red-hot and bent. Scores fell before him, but the zombies kept marching into his field of fire.

Then . . . there were no more rounds to put into the breech. He fired the last round and felt the gun stop recoiling. A fat gook fell on top of him. Blood, from somewhere unknown, flowed down his neck and messed with his shirt front. He passed out.

 

The moon was high and the night was strangely silent when he awakened and crawled out from under all the bodies. He didn’t appear to be wounded, stumbling across corpses until he got to the road. It was then he noticed that he’d lost his M-16 and was carrying an AK. He would pay for the mistake, he knew. Condon would extract everything he could out of it. He next remembered watching a Vietnamese farmer cutting up a dog for dinner. The farmer’s family looked at him and on his bloody attire not very affectionately but gave him some dog and nuoc muon anyway. After paying a few dong for the splendid repast, the Sergeant was again on his way. A few hours later a zip sniper almost took off his right ear. He dived into the ditch along the road and crawled over a kilometer to get out of range of the threat. It was when he appeared at the FLSG-A gate in his incarnadined olive-drabs that his trauma of trying to remember first began.

 

 

The Stalking

by Larry Lee Slot

Lieutenant Crowley walked over to the trooper in the second bunker in Foxtrot sector. Shouting to the man inside, he exclaimed. “Get out here, Marine!”

The Marine, manning the position, scrambled out of his hole and shouted, “Sir, Yes Sir!”

Lt. Crowley asked. “Do you see anything amiss here, Marine?”

Private First-Class Smouse looked around and said. “No, Sir. It looks as calm as it did yesterday out there.”

“I don’t agree, maggot. There’s a cigarette butt, not 3 yards from us, in front of your bunker.”

“Yes, Sir. I see it.”

“Why has that cigarette butt not been field stripped?!”

PFC Smouse looked quizzically at the Lieutenant and said. “This is a hostile area, Sir. We take incoming fire every day.”

“Is that any reason to not police your area before I arrive?”

“We ARE in a combat zone, Sir. I would be risking my life, government property, doing something so foolish.”

“Are you calling me a fool, PFC Smouse?”

“Sir! No, Sir!”

The platoon Sergeant, who was witness to the preceding conversation, now said. “What PFC Smouse was intimating, Sir, was that perhaps the lieutenant has not been in country long enough to understand the customary procedures in guarding Foxtrot sector.”

“Are YOU intimating that I’m out of my area of expertise, Sergeant!?”

“Perhaps just a bit, Sir.”

“You question my ability to command?!”

“No, Sir. I jus . . .”

“There is an Article 15 to deal with insubordination like yours! You will report to me at Headquarters Battalion by 1500 hours today! Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The Sergeant reported, as he was commanded, and received his punishment, (half-pay for six months). The punishment was very harsh. Yet, it was just one thing. The loss of respect that it engendered from his men was another. Marines number not among the world’s brightest Christmas tree lights. A reprimand, whether justified or not, was demoralizing to the squad.

It may appear strange to those unfamiliar with lesser-endowed creatures, but PFC Smouse chose to throw all the blame on his Sergeant for the Lieutenant’s asinine orders. As the Marines cleaned the area in front of the bunkers, he steamed with anger at his platoon Sergeant, saying. “The bastard agreed with the brass. Let him humiliate us all. Does nothing, even lets ‘em cut his pay! Now we’re here riskin’ ar’ necks pickin’ up butts in a combat zone . . . like we was in garrison ‘er what!”

The Sergeant did not know how Smouse felt. No one mentioned the private’s twisted sentiments to him. That night, however, the Corporal of the guard caught PFC Smouse asleep at his post. The NCO reported PFC Smouse’s dereliction of duty and received his orders. “If he was a ROK or RMK (Korean trooper) they’d have shot him where he slept. If I charge him Johnson will have him locked up in Leavenworth for 10 years. Beat the fuck out of him, Corporal. Use his rifle to do it.”

“Right, Sarge. He could have gotten us all killed.”

“Damn straight!”

“He was bad-mouthing you all day, too.”

“Really?”

“Yah.”

PFC Smouse was beaten soundly and had to leave the squad to be treated at the Phu Bai Naval Infirmary at FLSG-A. The Sergeant laid his plans carefully. An officer, drunk with power, could get many men killed during his service in combat areas. Lieutenant Crowley needed to die for what he did. There was no alternative. It was preventive medicine.

The Sergeant weighed the various possible scenarios for exterminating the menace. They were not aboard ship. There could be no “man overboard”ing. He could put a cover with Crowley’s name on it out behind the shitter burning grounds. That was always effective. It got rid of General Hochmuth, and no one was ever charged with his murder. When those hats fill with MPC, donated by men who hate the officer, someone always accepts the challenge.

Of course, they could always “frag” him. But, the coward Crowley never got near action. It would be a difficult death to explain away. That left a sniper shot. The brass would believe that.

They couldn’t use an M-16. The gooks often used our captured M-16s but preferred the much better AK-47s. A small 5.65 mm M-16 round in the bastard’s head would be too suspicious. No, it had to be a Swedish K or an AK-47. AKs were easy to come by. Ammo less so.

M-14 7.62 mm rounds fell right into AK breeches. One just needed to get closer to the target if non-standard ammo was used. That would not be a problem. The Sergeant shot “expert” on the qualification range. So did his Corporal.

The Sergeant explained the mission’s objective to his loyal Corporal. “There is no need to equivocate over the morality of what we are contemplating. It’s homicide . . . but, justifiable, not murder. Non-commissioned officers are slaves. They and regular enlisted, privates and such, do the fighting in wars. Less than human, most commissioned officers are expendable. A commissioned officer is at best a fraud, at worst a politician with a crush on the military. A politician, wherever found, is vermin, and fair game.”

The Sergeant took the first watch. He followed Lieutenant Crowley most of the day. That night his Corporal watched the man’s quarters from a few yards distant. The hour he left stalking the man was when Crowley’s quarters went “lights out”. Within a week they had the commissioned officer’s life mapped.

There was only one place that Crowley went when there were times few or no witnesses were present. That was after morning mess, when he went to the shitters. They would have to plug him there as he approached or sat to shit. The shitters were canvas-backed huts perched above large holes in the ground. There, 55gal drum-halves, containing feces, rested. When full, Marine privates carried them off to have their contents burned with diesel oil.

Crowley was to die the following morning, but fate intervened to save his miserable life. The Year of the Monkey opened with a bang in February of 1968 with the Tet Offensive. The Colonel took the Sergeant and his Corporal out of Foxtrot sector and used them to guard oil tankers supplying Hue. It was only dangerous when the tankers were empty. If the men didn’t choose to help the grunts liberate the Citadel they could hit the bars and cabarets while waiting to return to Phu Bai.

No one wanted to miss that fun just to get rid of an ill-bred officer. The Sergeant and his Corporal crossed over the Perfume River many times during the following weeks. Toward the end of the conventional hostilities, however, they got bored. Watching men rob the Hue Museum of artifacts and gazing on myriads of miniature pagodas on the roadside got old rather quickly. Finding numerous hastily-buried piles of innocent students with their hands tied behind their backs and bullets in their skull bases was the downer that ended the Marines’ frolic.

It was time to find Crowley and ding the bastard. Then, word came to them that Crowley was no longer a viable number. One of the guys from Motor T, Dinky-dau Charlie, brought them the news. It seems a Private named Disiado, “Dizzy”, lost it a day earlier and went bat-shit with Lieutenant Crowley.

Charlie said the officer caught Diz with his cover (hat) in a somewhat disheveled condition. Diz was waiting in line at the mess-hall at the time. Crowley apprehended the miscreant red-handed in the act of committing the heinous misdemeanor. Crowley immediate set about rectifying the matter. He ordered Disiado down onto the ground for push-ups. After about 40 pushups were satisfactorily discharged, Disiado’s dorsal posterior began pointing toward the general area of where the moon would soon be seen. Highly offended by the blatant act of fatigue in front of god and the entire world, embarrassing Lieutenant Crowley to no end, the officer exploded.

“How dare you point yer’ ass at me, maggot?!” He shouted with glee at the Private’s discomfiture, kicking the abased man’s raised derriere.

Dizzy said nothing, mortified at being treated like a raw recruit in front of all his friends, he lost all fear of eventual castigation. The humiliated man got up from the ground and walked over to the officer. Looking Crowley straight in the eye, he made the power-mad officer cringe. Dizzy then did nothing more but turn on his heel and walk over to a Marine that had recently finished his meal. The man was resting next to the mess building.

His M-79 grenade launcher shared some unused space nearby. Dizzy spoke a few words, and the Marine handed him the M-79. Dizzy asked for the bandoleer of the baseball sized rounds, and the owner again complied. Dizzy inserted the short chubby round into the breech and pointed the weapon at the sky. Then he let fly a round.

Dizzy was an expert with jeep-mounted 50 cal. machine guns. He could put a pattern in the forehead of a gook at 100 yards with his jeep moving at 30 mph, not a Maggie’s drawers in a bandoleer. He was not equally so good with a weapon that needed to be pointed upwards to arm the round before firing it. The first round exploded nowhere near Crowley, but Dizzy made his point anyway. Everyone expected the spectacle to end there.

Crowley, however, did a stupid thing. It may have goaded Dizzy into crossing over the Vietnamese version of the Rubicon. Instead of running to mingle with the mess-hall crowd and defusing Dizzy’s spite, Crowley ran elsewhere. He ran toward the officer’s quarters . . .with Disiado hot on his heels, firing away. Some said Dizzy got off all the grenades. Some said half were misfires or duds. Whatever. The bandoleer was empty when an MP with a scatter gun brought Dizzy down. Some say the Lieutenant was dead before Dizzy expended all the ammo. What everyone could agree on, however, was that Dizzy chased the Lieutenant all around the FLSG-A compound for nearly an hour before finally nailing him.

 

The Sergeant and his Corporal were walking together the next day. That morning the Colonel returned them to Foxtrot sector to begin a new stretch of guard duty. The two crossed the staging area of the ammo dump and headed toward the main guard shack. They were remembering things they’d seen in Hue and its environs. Suddenly, a round hit the yellow dirt next to the Sergeant’s left foot. His Corporal whipped around to see from where the round came. The sniper was somewhere on a berm to the West but nothing was indicative of any certain designated position.

“Do you think it was a gook?” The Sergeant asked.

“Pretty hard to be a slope coming from that berm, wouldn’t it?”

“Yah. He’d have to have stayed hidden there all night.”

“How long has Smouse been at sickbay?

“That was my thought too.”

“Do you think it was meant for you . . . or me?”

“It’s not important. Smouse shot 140 at the rifle range. Never qualified, even after 2 weeks of KP.”

“Nothing to worry about.”

“Not a thing.”

 

Private John Sandifer’s Suicide

by Larry Lee Slot

John Sandifer was a normal red-blooded American boy. He was born in 1945 and educated within the Michigan public education system. In 1964, he fell in love with a sweet girl named Barbara. They each professed undying love for the other. The two planned to marry when he finished college.

He was, however, drafted in 1965 into the Marine Corps and sent to Vietnam. After just a couple of months in the country he received an urgent letter from his mother. She suggested that he cut short his Southeast Asian vacation and come home. It turned out her supplication was based on the fact that Barbara was behaving strangely. As an art student, young and female, the girl found Life-Drawing to be more interesting than any of her other subjects, but one.

It appeared that her Art History class held a bit more interest (as it did a bright, blond, blue-eyed fellow student, interested in her). Barbara failed to mention, in her letters to John, either the nude drawing classes or her new friendship. She did not want to worry him. Since she did not mention them she had no need to mention that her new friend had a “wealth deferment” from the draft. John became concerned anyway and asked to return to his home town on an emergency leave.

As he was not married, his request was denied. Suppose all Marines wanted to go home to sort out prurient love interests? It would become a torrent! How could one run a nice war if ugly love matters took precedence? Ridiculous!

Nevertheless, his mother’s letters continued to foment discord with John’s military duties. His proficiency and conduct marks fell to 2.3 and 2.4 (out of a possible 5.0 and 5.0). Then, John received a letter from Barbara attesting to her intense, purely professional, interest in art. She explained how well her Art History projects were going and some of her extra-curricular studies with select classmates. Although nothing negatively concrete was spelled out in the letter, John read all kinds of nuances into it.

He lost his equanimity and went AWOL. Soon, John was located in a bar in Anh Thanh, I Corps, very far removed from Sobriety-land. He fell hard into a siklo girl’s arms. The MPs picked him up broke, still drunk, but resting comfortably alongside Highway One. There, in a fragrant local benji ditch he babbled incoherently about art and the best of girls.

It took about a week of strong soap and Halisone showers to remove the smell of feces from his person and uniform. The Naval sickbay said that the gonorrhea, acquired for 500 dong in Anh Thanh, was apparently resistant to all available antibiotics. If it continued refractory the U.S. Government would have to ship him to Clark Air Base in the Philippines to die. On a lighter note, his unit chief then charged him with unclean living habits. He tried, once more, to get leave but was again denied.

His appeal for assistance to the Red Cross also went to no avail. Untreatable VD was a sure-fire negative for denying humanitarian considerations. Sandifer fell into a moderate slump. His pro & con marks dropped further to 2.0 and 2.0. He was not put up for lance-corporal.

Other Marines were promoted, leaving him further disheartened. Nothing he saw or did made his spirits any lighter. Then, one day, he seemed to be feeling better. Fellow Marines took heart in his more cheerful demeanor. While the troop was sitting around a favored bunker, cleaning their weapons, John told a few jokes.

Everyone was laughing and feeling well. Then, John “accidentally” shot off his “little piggy that went to market”. He was sent to a Casualty Company. John felt sure he would not be denied leave now. Unfortunately, such masochistic behavior is fairly common in wartime. The brass handles it with dispatch. He was stitched and bandaged up in a few hours.

In less than a week, John resumed his duties in Phu Bai. Now, of course, there was the added stigma of being, perhaps among his peers, just a tad “yellow”. For a Marine, that is a serious deficiency.

Sandifer endured the following weeks by becoming increasingly withdrawn. Letters from his mother kept him in a depressed state of mind. Then, at mail-call, one day, he received a letter that ended his problems. Barbara was not able to handle the weight of her guilt feelings without unburdening herself just a tad. She knew her Rubicon was a good distance to the rear of the journey, anyway.

The girl felt it would be better to break it to John immediately than permit the boy to labor under an illusion of her love. It would be too cruel for him to return home in a year or so and find his envisioned new world quite shattered. How much better would it not be to shatter his world now, while he was in a combat zone?

In Vietnam he had access to all the necessary palliatives. Weapons of war were plentiful. Thoughtful communist enemies, just itching for a chance to ding a Marine, were abundant. Whatever weapon or activity he chose, to act out his heart’s balm, it was at his immediate disposal. A wealth of opportunity was his for the asking.

He was not interested in any exotic weapons, however. He did not raise his head a few centimeters too high during the nocturnal mortar attacks. As it turned out, Sandifer chose none of the many assorted and variegated methods of effectively answering his “Dear John”. He found his rifle to be all that was necessary. It gave him the aid and comfort he required.

As he was cleaning his M-16 with the other Marines, at the same bunker where he shot off his smallest toe, it all came to him in an instant. One minute, he was tearfully running the small white patch of cotton into the rifle’s bore with the cleaning ramrod. The next he was babbling nonsensically about “eating an apple and fucking the Corps”. John now picked up his well-scrubbed M-16 and held it to his chest like a girlfriend. Then, he loaded it with a full magazine.

Surprising his fellow Marines to no end, John jumped up and began firing into the air wildly. Toward Highway One and the front gate he ran, screaming that he was going to kill himself. Sandifer emptied 4 magazines, firing dispassionately, into the air before leaving the front gate and heading north on the narrow Highway. He had only gone about a hundred yards up the road when an MP ended all Sandifer’s problems forever with two shots from a double-barreled riot gun.

 

The story of how Elboruh’s first free-enterprise anarchistic commune came into being.

by Larry Lee Slot
Elbo lived long enough to see the public execution of the greatest monsters the world has ever seen – the British Royals, the Rothschild-Bauer family, their cohorts, the 3000+ sycophants, and the multitudes of leeches. As Elbo laid the first free-enterprise anarchistic commune’s foundation, lawyers and big bankers were still being exterminated everywhere they could be found. With the demise of the British Royals and the Great Red Menace (Bauer Family), however, it seemed at last that there was an end to be seen at the tunnel’s mouth. Elbo knew he had to give an alternative to the Rothschild-state madness. If not, in time, another nation-state curse would seek to strangle human evolution.

In order to accomplish this second great feat, Elboruh postulated his new brainchild – free-enterprise anarchistic communes. They would be the vacuum-filling answer, he visualized. So, while still cleaning out the fascist dregs, he was concomitantly building a new world.

Slowly, but with increasing effectiveness, Elboruh’s guerilla forces advanced around the world. In time, every month saw another fascist state falling to the Burning Fasces onslaught.

It became a tidal wave. The day eventually came when the madness of democracy and Written Law died forever. Lawyers and pols were all in hiding. Small isolated republics, free-enterprise anarchy communes, and the Great Pontibus Bridge Society, all ran on human dignity alone. They filled the “government-state” vacuum. This is the partial story of those first chaotic commune experiments.

 

Elboruh Lebensrau had come to believe that there was a Force for Life in the universe that, by definition, was perverse, vehemently opposing disorder and dissolution. He felt that we are all creatures of disobedience, damned, born to burn. It is Life’s misfortune that there can be no compromise with the great god Entropy, Chaos, the Creator (by default) of all that exists. We are condemned to writhe in the wind and blazing sun of mass action. Our DNA is constitutively programmed to resist death and decentralization of cellular control. We survive, not voluntarily, but because we are condemned to do so, usually consciously incognizant of a choice.

The will-to-Life Force is weak, much weaker than the other Natural Forces. As all things beautiful, it is delicate and fragile. Yet, it endures. Entropy cannot completely control Nature’s perversity. That is why, like some whore or unfaithful wife, Nature betrays her creator, Chaos.

She has made it a cardinal virtue for all her weak creatures to disallow any fatal weakness to develop. Anything which may tend to drop her subjects beneath a certain threshold of strength, where chaos rules apply exclusively, Nature discourages. It was Elboruh’s special contribution to discover (and publish his finding) that legal vermin, humanity’s cravat enemies, the most loathsome creatures on the planet, had made a separate peace with Chaos. They promised our cuckolded Creator our death and that of our also-rans. These monsters betray us in return for petty temporal power and cheap animal bliss.

Religion, Written Law, Democratic Government, Medicine, the pressure of accumulated caedere goods, etc. represent some of the other Death Forces in Entropy’s physical repertoire.

Those who traffic in them, (as lawyers do with Law or physicians do with unrestrained compassion), are agents of species death.  Humanity’s fascist enemies . . .  Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Rothschild-Bauer, Illuminati, Presidents, Prime Ministers, etc. are sublimely ignorant of everything that makes life worthwhile. They have also fallen under Entropy’s spell of species dissolution. They know only how to gain, keep & use the illusion of brutal death-dealing power.

Riding the flailing garden hose of unbridled avarice, these “creatures of lucre have a great abyss at their center, where other people have souls. It is obvious to the most casual of observers. That abyss is sociopathically adorned circumferentially with psychopathy. It was Rav Aloirav who discovered that these glorified spiritual black holes and miserable excuses for humanity have a constitutive at-av-neg savagery lesion in their DNA. “What are the characteristics of this mutation,” one asks?

When “the man no longer has money but money has the man” is the key descriptive phrase. Imagine, if you will, finding the insatiable desire, will, and energy to sublimate one’s entire life to the unaccountable tendency to accumulate billions more . . . when you already have billions. It must be a terrible fate. These unfortunates can only but watch their lives become widgets, pieces of paper on multi-layered bank statements, for a few short years, only to lose it all. It is a horrible disease, an incredibly cruel destiny, this great hole in them.

Not by chance is that invented god of many of them, J.H. Christ, a purported zombie. Everything beautiful, everything that counters the ugly dust of debris in meaningless motion, has no value to them. They, figuratively, dance in step with Brownian movement, opposing healthy people, ecosystems and ideas, with their stochastic abandon. They are the force behind institutionalized ignorance, dementia, and death. They, like the fascist Pope, represent the major opposition to salubrious eugenics, euthanasia, biosustainability, education and civilization.

They will never learn their error unassisted. They will never stop feeding mental, physical and spiritual poison to the planet. Elbo and his Burning Fasces Movement said. “These toxic fascists, with their communist-socialist sophistry tools, will organize to enslave and murder humanity, until they have either caged all of us, (for a diurnal milking), or we kill them all.” His Burning Fasces Movement spokesman said. “We must recycle every last one of them. It will not happen without tremendous risk, and we may ultimately fail to rid the planet of them. Our enemies may win and be damned to oblivion along with us, resting in the same coffin. But Nature is not defeated by our defeat. She still has options. We are only part of many. Others will go on without us. What will die, if we fail, is our own footprint in the sand, our species, and our closest taxonomic relatives. That is what must make us sad and angry.”

Elbo said, “How can we, or at least I, do otherwise than struggle? How can I turn my back on the survival of my species and the friends of my species? I must resist. I must defy my fascist-leaning totalitarian society at all costs. Democracy, the effective rule of mobs and madness, has failed us, as we knew it would. How could it do otherwise? Mob values, the voluntary result of fascist thieves’ & murderers’ manipulations, have devastated us. The continuity of benevolent dictatorships has also failed us. There is no valid authority, (toward which we can turn), and 1984 style totalitarianism has arrived worldwide. We must survive to kill them all. We have no choice if we wish human evolution to triumph. We must institutionalize the recycling of their vicious lives. It is our . . . humanity’s, only chance for survival. To oppose fascistic society and kill one’s vile also-ran is not wrong if it is in the spirit of survival. Why? Because, the capacity exists as a Natural gift. To judge these vermin is wrong. Why? Because, Nature has not given anyone that capacity. It is arrogance unrestrained to assume the right. But, fortunately, we need not judge them to kill them. Intuitively, by their actions we know our enemies mean our enslavement and death. They feel no shame in using a sado-masochistic maniac moron symbol, (Jehovah, Yahweh, Allah), as their weapon and justification. I hate and abhor that heinous Lord God Almighty of antiquity, if the psycho even ever existed. I believe the force, Entropy, is actually that true God Almighty. It at least has a backing in sound reason and physical fact. Eventually, it will bring us all to a state of meaningless dust. Therefore, what have we to lose in resisting? We have nothing to lose but our own pain and that of a world of suffering creatures. After giving us a sense of right and wrong, it has damned us without cause. That is unconscionable, unforgivable. I cannot, will not, believe that Entropy is all there is, all there can be, and all there must be. We must pursue salubrious goals, conforming as much as possible to Natural constraints, for our evolution to be assured. If we do not, our species will most surely disappear. Huge caedere financial returns and lost productivity aid and abet Entropy and the statist pols’ apotheoses. We will compete. The vicious cycles revolve ever faster, growing into a great potential cataclysm. We will stave off the inundation. Such a caedere condition will never abide in pure free-enterprise anarchy or a Platonic philosopher-king government. Only savage lack of essential control (such as prevails in centralized democracies and monarchies) allows it. Stupid, ignorant, superstitious, ignoble, demented, brutal and base monkeys will accept anything if their enthralled neighbors concur. Once a particular insanity is accepted, and the pols make it law, it is institutionalized and engraved in stone, unchangeable. It’s the theory (plus experience) behind tyrannical democracies and monarchies everywhere. Give the monkeys a circus (TV), throw them some crumbs (the dole), and they’ll accept their slavery as virtual cattle of the fascists and pols. Politicians, no matter how stupid they may appear or how innocuous their demeanor, are ALWAYS the enemy of the people. “

In his soul-searching and postulating of alternatives, Elboruh knew that anarchism’s decentralized communes were the only answer to the decision-making enigma. They were the closest yet in Life to the perfect decentralization found in Death. Yet, anarchies always failed, given time. Most experts blamed the seeds of destruction on many things. Contrary egoisms, outside negative influence, people confusing their propagandizing of collectives with successful anarchistic enterprise, economic impasses, and just plain abhorrence of further cohabiting with other humans number among the best of anarchy poisons.

Elbo believed that what would kill his own experimental communes was 1) At-av-neg mutations and 2) Negative impact imagination. He was fond of using the Gay Plague – AIDS as an example. HIV is, putatively, the cause of AIDS. That is still conjectural . . . but a side issue. Anti-retrovirals & protease inhibitors, that so enriched Gates and his ilk, are given in response to + HIV test results.

Various tests, the medical establishment provides an unwitting public, are supposed to determine if you have HIV in your body. You can test HIV+ on them just from eating a pizza made with cheese from a CAEV infected goat. Also, latent (sleeping) HIV DNA resides in intron DNA in virtually everyone. Many influences can make it exfoliate. Do the HIV+ victims of Gates know these facts?

Do they know that they may or may not get AIDS, but it will be easier to get it if they consume Gate’s poisons? Do they know if they don’t get AIDS, the anti-HIV drugs will kill them in other ways? Of course not. Anything that sells the expensive poisons is fair play to an at-av-neg mutant or a negatively imaginative capitalist. It was just one of the multitudes of abuses in capitalism that Elbo thought he could cure with his new stateless communes.

Bill Gates steals from, cheats, and murders thousands of people with his investments, translating their lives into great quantities of caedere wealth for himself. Why does he do such terrible things? He does them to gain the love and admiration of people exactly like those he pillages.

The Clintons and Bushes starved and murdered hundreds of thousands of people for what? They wanted to gain the love and admiration of people exactly like those they starved and murdered. Why do people love and admire such fiends as the Gates, Clintons and Bushes? Because they are voters – ignorant, demented, superstitious, suicidal, enslaved eunuchs.

Sports & Hollywood celebrities are somewhat similar to the political monstrosities. Although not actual fiends, most are little more than colorful idiots. The voter-type of imbecile follows celebrity films & antics and adores the celebrity. The celebrities, colorful pieces of naval dander are not experts in quantum mechanics. They conjecture that adulation from fans indicates that, without proof, the celebrity is more than a mentally deficient autistic monkey. Like the money fiends and political offal, they too believe their personal public statements have value beyond that of a dumpster-dwelling McDonald’s ex-hamburger.

These abuses occur because of democracy and majority rule (imbecility). These great cataclysms carry the day (and the decision). At-av-neg mutants and negative dreamers were the problem, as Elbo saw it. Yet, without imbecile voters such abuses could not happen either. These two forces, acting synergistically, gave Entropy hegemony over the living planet.

Only microbes, fungi and insects seemed to be immune. How to educate, remove imbecility from the population, was human evolution’s great problem. It would not be easy. Humanity rebels against wisdom. It is one of the reasons why society instinctively rebels against pornography.

Pornography, among other things, is abstract reality. Reality is usually frightening or obscene-appearing and, unless prepared, people are not equipped to take it straight. Abstract reality often hits the same chord in a near-monkey. People accept as truth what they believe they observe NOT what they indeed do observe. We are animals, frail and flawed, expected to define ourselves and our place in a great universe. Insane.

It’s like we are being punished. We have been condemned to hubris. What have we ever done to deserve such castigation?  Even if we wished to repent, beg forgiveness, we don’t know or can’t even remember our terrible offense? Could anything be crueler?

Elbo believed he could solve our great problems or at least defang most of them with free-enterprise, consensus and pol-prohibition. He was not a believer in the givens. One given, he did not accept, was the general idea that imagination is always a good. Elbo believed that imagination was indeed a gift from the gods. He felt, however, that some gods were even more evil than the people descending from them.

Where did Elbo get those ideas? He gave, as reason, his interpretation of Sumerian texts and other early attempts at human abstract expression. Elboruh said that among our Earthly ancestors were extra-terrestrials. They inhabited the planet Mars at one time. He said that Mars, long-prior to our own advent, was a thriving planet.

Conflicts, as ever, between opposing imaginations destroyed it. It ended in a great nuclear war.  That extra-terrestrial nuclear conflagration was created AND accomplished mentally. Later atomic bombs on Earth came about via Oppenheimer & MIT. They needed to be built from scratch, using conceptual imagination, work, intelligence, and risk.

What many people fail to understand is that contemporary imagination, (human conceptual dreaming), is only one fragment of original imagination.  Extra-terrestrials possessed original imagination. Extra-terrestrials could divide and separate intact original imagination into a two-part capacity. The first part is like a digital photo – abstract or virtual reality. The second part is the realization or development into concrete reality . . . Creation. Another way of looking at it is as a draft (to be rearranged and perfected) and then a final copy.

The extra-terrestrials did not give our Homo erectus ancestors any of the cistron(s) for imagination. All they gave them was a capacity to produce offspring with intelligence and those pedestrian qualities that made for docile slaves. They did indeed give Neanderthal a meiotic gamete containing the gene for imagination.  It was only partial imagination, i.e. only the abstract first facet. He could produce rough drafts but never the final copy. The first phenotype was expressed in Neanderthal’s Aurignacian progeny.

Neanderthal was intelligent, more so than his progeny. That was our extra-terrestrial ancestors’ gift to Homo erectus’ progeny. But Mousterian Neanderthal was never able to use even conceptual imagination because it was only given to him in a sex cell, as intelligence was given to Homo erectus progeny. It only began to express phenotypically in the Cro-Magnon. It eventually consumed its incubating creator.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, we only gained the virtual facet of imagination. We got more than just rough draft capacity, but if we wish the second facet, creativity, we must work to achieve our dream. We must build the realization up from the roots, using much intelligence, will and travail. Perhaps our ancestors felt that we, like those who destroyed Mars, were not ready for the concretizing second part. Perhaps it was inadvertent, and the at-av-neg mutation & negative imagination are simple detriments, genetic trash residuals.

Perhaps some of us have received them in consolation, accidentally, or as stochastic mutations that represent creativity dearth. Whatever. Elbo naturally felt he needed to protect his fledgling anarchistic communes from at-av-neg mutants and negative impact imagination. These two depraved traits, expressing phenotypically as negatives destroy great societies. There is no reason to suspect that they cannot do similarly with anarchistic communes.  To preclude such deleterious machinations, Elbo went back to basics.

He returned to the place wherein he hid from the forces seeking to punish him for assassinating the fascist Pope – the Amazon jungle. While there, both times, Elbo lived among the fierce people, the Yanomami. With them, he saw how near-anarchistic organization survived. He felt it might be made even less “archistic” and yet accomplished on a greater scale in the new stateless world he was creating. He hoped to make only those modifications necessary to retain the economic benefits of free-enterprise capitalism.

Most thinkers have made it very clear that anarchy and capital are near opposites and mutually exclusive. Elbo disagreed. He had to, knowing that the ignorance and corruption, riddling religion, democracy, monarchy, fascism, communism, socialism, etc., would never make a biosustainable civilization. He wanted to achieve a biosustainable society above all else. If plausible human values, smelted in the crucible of biosustainability, could not resist the fire of entropy’s furnace, then they must go.

Many aspects of Yanomami culture would prevent at-av-neg mutant – negative imagination impacts. Ability and wisdom lead Yanomamis – not chiefs. There are no Yanomami chiefs. Yanomami society is egalitarian and any member rising above his fellows is killed outright. These villages were prototype Elboruh Lebensraus and Burning Fasces Movements.

There are men in Yanomami society who are looked up to for their skill and wisdom. The men control their women; sometimes violently. Unlike the men in contemporary feminist society, Yanomami males did not make women either their slaves or their masters. Some might find this difficult to swallow. They might counter that such a system is then not egalitarian. Elbo would say that women choose to be as slavish as they wish by their love of masochism and refusal to accept accountability.

Women’s rights leaders might also say that men choose to be slave-masters by their arrogance and pig-headedness. Whatever, in matters of sex, there will always be discord. At times things will go 50-50, usually 60-40 or 40-60. In any case, it is a pissing contest, and Yanomami women feel they are treated equally. Everyone works and decisions are made by way of long discussions, terminating in an ultimate consensus.

Elbo’s communes employed Yanomami culture in this manner. He saw where consensus of opinion can be a positive force, not in fact finding but in decision making. He knew it was NOT, nor could it ever be, a determinant of truth. Lawyers and scientists who believe such rot are sadly mistaken. Those that believe majority rule chooses well & right are equally in error.

Some in Yanomami society did not wish to accept the dictates of tribal consensus. These rebels had one of two choices. They might 1. Leave the tribe . . . or 2. Die at its hand, the fierce people. For reasons of physical constraints, communes able to reach consensus obviously cannot be much over a few hundred souls. Capital interests of great merit cannot be held to such constraints.

Elbo did not want to be limited in such a way. Great planetary interests require the input from many human brains. Manpower and infrastructure needs alone require thousands of souls. Was he to dwarf his communes to such pedestrian tasks? How could he keep large enterprises and still retain communes of only 2 or 3 hundred people?

Yanomamis sometimes make war through federation of individual communes. Villages send representatives to reach consensus with other villages in much the same way as republics do. Great capitalistic enterprises, to accomplish their own ends within communes, can sublimate Yanomami war initiatives. Even in archaic state systems war technology has a tendency to percolate down to capitalistic ventures. The freedom, inherent in Yanomami society, still allows for great ventures.

Anyone excelling in Yanomami society may not profit from his skill any more than his neighbors. The tribe benefits from his skill, and in turn he benefits from the skills and wisdom of his neighbors. The leader of the venture cannot financially benefit from it personally, only his tribe and/or federation will. It is NOT “from each according to his ability – to each according to his needs”, the commie-Schweitzer Christian tenet. It is in some ways similar, but as a cultural constraint not a legal prohibition.  Without pols and lawyers to gum it all up, it works.

There is no need and no possibility for corporate or indigent welfare subsidies & taxes. There would be no Bill Gates, Warren Buffets, George Soroses, or Nathan (Rothschild) Bauers to rob the commonwealth. There could be Nicolai Teslas, George Eastmans, Alan Turings, and Shakespeares in Elbo’s communes. Great contributors need not all end in suicide. Yet, one sees how much more the community will benefit from anarchy than statism.

What young men never fully appreciate is how incalculably more difficult it is to “get rid of” a woman than it is to “get” her. Yanomamis solved that problem centuries ago, as women are almost a communal resource in Yanomami society. Nevertheless, most of the violence among the fierce people comes about as sexually engendered. Men and women usually value sex about equally but women and men differ as to love interest. Most men realize that sex and loyalty are not even correlated positively. Their love interests run to their children much more than to their mates. Women are not so discriminating and value their man’s love-relationship much more than he theirs. Women become relationship junkies more often than do men. Homicidal violence in Yanomami villages is over 20 times that of same in industrialized countries.  It makes for good clean fun in an otherwise humdrum savage existence. Even so, aggressive violence for territory and wealth among Yanomamis is only 2/3 that of Jivaro violence. In comparison, western homicide rates focus around 0.2%. (Except in countries having substantial numbers of persons of African descent where the homicide rate hovers around 2%). Industrialized countries rates are, of course, deceiving.  Due to certain corollaries, they require scrutiny.

The word “civilized” carries many unfair implications. 15^th century Guarani-Tupi society was far more “civilized”, as far as biosustainability parameters, than 21^st century Nazi Israel. If we use just homicide rates in an inverse continuum indicating increasing civilization, we find that countries cannot often maintain low homicide rates for long. Should they do so; the “boomerang effect” will kick in. Wholesale slaughter raises the homicides to genocide-democide levels.

Therefore, Elbo felt Yanomami values paralleled his own to a certain extent. He needed to create a better system than archaic state law and voting. So, he aimed for a homicide rate in his communes of about 20%, feeling that this would strike an optimum balance between natural culling and a fecund population. Lawyers, pols, judges, etc. still enjoyed a 100% homicide rate. It was always catch and kill as you are able on such diseases.

Some questioned Elbo’s brutal, harsh and unfair system. Elbo agreed with them, explaining that he did not want to make it more so, as to appear to be competing, with natural brutality and injustice.

Commune members often felt another had stolen or cheated him out of property (capital, a woman or pretty boy). It became reason sufficient to kill. Although not with 100% impunity, the burden of proof rested with the cadaver, since its problems were over and the assassin has given them payment in full. Whatever societal vengeance that was necessary could be gained through the deceased’s family.

No family . . . no biological fecundity. No family . . . no vengeance. Dead disputants, without family or pusillanimous relatives, were just out of luck.  They seldom complained. It served social order needs quite well.

At present such remedies are not allowed under any nation-state’s Written Law. The cravat lawyer, pol, and crackpot judge have rigged the system to benefit themselves alone. They disallow anything resembling a fair recovery (without at least half going to the lying scheister-judge, plaintiff-prosecution, and lawyer-pol combo).

The scheister uses semantics sophistry and blatant distortion of reality perception to keep the legal menagerie fat, the richer getting richer and the poorer getting poorer. Great fortunes are never realized without there being a great crime involved and ample lawyers to protect the perpetrators. The middle classes are squeezed into the periphery on the scheister’s whim. Since Elbo had eliminated most of the legal riffraff, prohibiting the contamination of his communes, legal remedies were no longer an option. Until Elboruh Lebensrau, open season on lawyers, judges, and pols was long overdue.

In keeping with a 20% homicide rate in his communes, Elbo now added mental and physical defectives to his cravat-cleaning proclivities. The question of where anarchy begins and theocracy ends became an issue with Elbo here. Someone had to be the Great Inquisitor, the Torquemada, answering the question as to which freaks are too freakish to deserve life in an anarchistic commune? And, who would be the executioner? It was a new cultural facet to Yanomami modeling, bringing their system into the 21^st Century.

Elbo used a taboo system, at first, and it worked quite well. He made the taboos and sought to have them instilled in the communes as if a theocratic commandment. If a freak became questionable the commune did not err on the side of mercy. The questionables did get the right to leave, before they were executed. Most died at birth from exposure, Lacedaemonian style, but there was some anthropophagia.

Elbo did not want it ever to happen that population excess degraded his free-enterprise anarchy communes’ viability. Obvious freaks and mental defectives or uncovered closet-lawyers & pols were, of course, immediately recycled by the enraged citizenry. It is only natural that most healthy people want more children than two.  It happened on occasion that a childless member remembered how having more than one child was culturally taboo or even prohibited, elsewhere. Some found themselves voyaging close to Chinese-dilemma land.

Elbo encouraged desires for descendants, and he made it possible to bargain for more than just one. He used murdered victims as accounts to be “charged against” for prospective parents.  One child more than the given was merited for each well-murdered enemy. In this way Elbo sought to control population and reduce excess euthanasia of the elderly. He thus returned the planet to a more sensible use of space.

Yanomamis do not use fiat currency. They barter or share. Sometimes isolated instances of fiat currency would enter the communes from outside. Elbo made possession of fiat currency a taboo crime in his communes. Citizens learned to never touch it. The Yanomami barter system was modified to make it more efficient than previously. Grams of Ag & Au, scalps of persons de trop, food, fabricated goods, etc.  became the new capital in Elbo’s free-enterprise anarchy communes. The slippery slope to democracy and nation-statehood died with the taboo death of fiat currency.

As an example of early commune life, the following occurred. In the first of Elbo’s communes, it happened that a commune member robbed another member of his “wife”.  A common occurrence in the best of societies, but here there was an added hitch. The disaffected party did not have the courage to kill the horns-giver. He wanted to get a lawyer to iron out (in his favor) a resulting financial dispute. Lawyers in Elbo’s communes were, of course, in short supply.

The unhappy member went to Elbo to discover where he might yet find such a beast extant. Elbo appeared understanding and went to the most respected and senior member of the man’s commune. He asked the elder why the injured party was still alive. He did not long remain so. The injured party became one of Elbo’s 20%.

Yanomami culture, like many ancient peoples, does not discriminate against homosexuality. Elbo was not so discriminating. He was not a participant of the fascist-engendered political whitewash of homosexual crimes against the planet. Elbo knew that male homosexuality was an anathema, bringing epidemic disease & death wherever it has touched civilizations. It shared in the causes of much of the abuse that made corporate fascism in the world such a terrible menace. Most of the planetary ills are exacerbated by apologies for such perversions and their sequelae (transsexuals, anti-retrovirals, drug-abuse residuals, etc.)

Elbo made all homosexuals effectively women. Then, he removed their female rights in the commune. Most homosexuals left the commune or died forthwith.  Elbo was criticized soundly for his stand. But, he was firm, citing many ancient texts and science as authority for his position.

He said. “Homosexuals are born that way due to over-population’s influence on the parental genome. Male homosexuality is built into the genes to protect the species, mimicking monkeys forever looking to copulate with anything that stinks a little. Many other animals have similar species’ over-population protection devices. Facultative fags in prisons, boarding schools, orphanages, aboard ships, etc. are another situation, resembling female homosexuality. All women walk the Sapphic shore. Formal Fag Freaks are a subspecies of human that exist as a species spoiling mechanism. In some well-regulated communities they are isolated in ghettos, awaiting euthanasia, or terminated at birth along with other biological misfits. Homosexuality is a birth defect as much as is a Down’s or a Huntington’s chorea. Of that there can be no doubt. These are extremely unhappy individuals, fully exemplified by the term “gay”, accentuating the truth in reverse. As long as our population was rampant and uncontrolled, madness ruled. We endured many types of subhuman vermin.  Male homosexuals have brought countless sexual diseases into the human life stream, and their dismal lifestyle is all but anathema. Perhaps for this reason ancient texts revile and condemn them. Democracies are dementocracies and must put up with them, as they appear to be human, representing a large voting bloc. Men are fools.  Politics has nothing to offer a wise man but a bad smell. Democracies are run by Man, usually base and brutal Man – always ignorant & demented male and female cowards. In our new civilized biosustainable world, replete with the necessary habitat, eugenics, and euthanasia, homosexuals (and the sadness and disease that accompany them) are prevented by terminating their existence among us. Most of the freaks are caught at birth along with other biological defectives. If not, we must deal with them more spontaneously. Here, enhanced amniocentesis is a powerful arbiter, and it determines if a fetus manifests not only one of the 4000 + accepted genetic diseases but also the cryptic genetic diseases of homosexuality, polery, attorney-ness, or big banker-ish phenotypes.”

Yanomamis normally marry at 10-11 years of age. Elbo’s anarchistic communes emulated the Yanomami in that area. The statist crime of child-molesting makes for a somewhat ridiculous non-issue under the circumstances. Natural freedom is not an easy state of affairs to endure. Everywhere it lurks there are problems.

As freedom is so difficult to accept, most people are only too willing to give it up. That is one of the main reasons why statism holds such allure. One’s neighbors are much greater tyrants than an autocrat. Pols, even the most benign and stupid, are always greater tyrants than any alternative because they have the backing of the imbecile majority.

So, with the Yanomami village as a rudimentary model, Elbo solved most of the problems that made for grave causes of failure in past anarchistic communes. Support for Elboruh’s free-enterprise anarchy grew across the planet.

 

The End

 

 

WEED SEED DEEDS

by Larry Lee Slot

Portulaca oleracea is a wild herb, known in Spanish as verdolaga. In English speaking areas it is called common purslane, pigweed, little hogweed, red root, pursley, and moss rose. It is also a ubiquitous weed. The annual succulent can grow a half meter in height.  Aficionados grow about 40 varieties, cultivating them as food in various regions.

Portulaca oleracea has been used since the seventh century B.C. So, it is not as well-known to humanity as garlic, but nearly so. Pliny advised his followers to wear it as an amulet to ward off all evils, not just disease. It was Mohandas Gandhi’s favorite food. Chinese wise men use Portulaca oleracea as “Ma Chi Xian” for its remarkable constituents.  Past uses include treating:  insect or snake bites, boils, and bee stings, dysentery, hemorrhoids, diarrhea, and bleeding. There is even some evidence that is helpful in cleaning cataract stains out of human eye lenses.

Most ethnobiologists feel ancient humans ate much better (5 times as much vitamin C) than we do today. This is primarily because edible plants 40,000 years ago were more like Portulaca oleracea. They provided a greater proportion of the troglodyte diet. There is an interesting fact that may have something to do with Portulaca oleracea’s propensity to save life. When the plant is starved for water (as it is when cut and sun-dried) it changes its prerogatives.

First, the plant pours all its remaining moisture & energy into making seeds for its species ultimate survival. Second, it employs an alternate photosynthesis process which uses Crassulacean acid (CAM) metabolism. It converts carbon dioxide to malic acid first and only later to glucose. If harvested and sundried in early morning, there is 10+ times more malic acid tang as later in the day. (Harvested in the morning, before much glucose can be made, is a plus for diabetics.)

How the second prerogative associates with the first is enigmatical. The strategic survival characteristics are, however, worth noting. Each gram of a fresh Portulaca oleracea plant contains 0.84kJ of energy. Such values may pass on, in a different form, to those who consume it.

Now everyone knows about how wonderful Portulaca Oleracea is. It is time to tell the story of what happened to a guy, Beltover Sprunkline, who wanted to exploit the herb’s great benefits to augment his stock of filthy lucre. Beltover was a biochemist and an amateur horticulturalist. He used all his esoteric ability to make his variety of Portulaca Oleracea the very best available. He thought he would sell the plant to people who wanted to regain their lost youth.

Sun drying concentrated the DHA & EPA oils. Other Omega-3 oils, antioxidants, minerals and vitamins went along with it.  Contamination with Mercury and PCBs was not a factor since it was not extracted from fish fats. His Portulaca Oleracea was an excellent supplement for health. He harvested & prepared it with minimal processing to preserve the Omega-3 family of essential nutrients. No harsh chemical solvents damaged its quality. Other naturally-occurring co-factors too combined to make Beltover’s tea a good buy.

Unfortunately, Portulaca Oleracea is also a repository for way too much oxalic acid to make it a 100% perfect food.  Beltover dried his plants, proprietarily, to extract and remove the toxic oxalic acid while still maintaining a quality product. Finally, he ground the reconstituted former weed; he developed. Then, Belt packaged the tea.

Successful beyond his wildest dreams, the money rolled in, and Beltover became an instant millionaire. His “customer friends” thought so too. Some asked him for some seeds to grow and make their own tea.  He reluctantly complied, warning them that they should be careful not to eat or drink excessive amounts of the raw herb because of the oxalic acid.

He suggested that they experiment cautiously at first, to be aware if they might have a propensity to kidney stones.

The herb qualified as a concern since oxalic acid is the prime constituent of kidney stones. Beltover told them that he took the oxalic acid out of his own plant product during the drying process. He did not, of course, divulge his proprietary process for doing it. As luck would have it, one of his “friends” soon discovered the joy of passing a calcium oxalate kidney stone for the first time.

Pain. One of those tiny little words (like if, me, it, etc.) that convey so much more meaning than do their bloated siblings. If we could find a way to eliminate all pain . . .  mental, physical and spiritual, every problem in the world would cease immediately.  Well, that “friend” promptly sued Beltover for the pain. Not satisfied with only bestowing such a fine gesture, Beltover’s “friend” invited a bureaucrat acquaintance to come along as a cohort.

The Bureaucrat’s presence was duly noted. The state’s Department of Agriculture’s Plant Industry & Consumer Services Division charged Beltover, criminally as well.  It was under the Seed Law & Rules chapter of Title II. Statutes Sections 8-21 through 8-27 of the Administrative code 35-30-25-13. Seed Law Section par. 2-8-23: Unlawful acts. To wit: the crime of selling a proprietary seed without a plethora of permissions. When added to numerous counts of willful dissemination of noxious weed seeds, Beltover became a bona fide miscreant.

The state’s attorney, (law-wielder-in chief), pounced on Beltover like a leopard. The pol grandstanded in front of a gaggle of proprietors of genetically-engineered plant-seeds. On the Civil side, Product Liability lawyer-parasites also attacked Beltover for selling a tea made from a plant with known high levels of toxic oxalic acid content. Days grew ever grimmer for Beltover. He had little hope of surviving the onslaught of ill-wishers.

Everything Beltover made to date on his sales of tea went to scheister defense lawyers. He was inexperienced at dealing with the subhuman legal fraternity. It took him 3 years to discover that his lawyers were working with persons unknown to him against his interests. About the same time, he found out they were making deals with the “other side”, to squeeze him like a ripe grape. It is called in legal parlance “getting too close to the case”.

Even after spending his entire home’s equity, Beltover lost both the criminal and the civil cases.  He all but staggered out of the courthouse after his final loss. Fortunately, he thought, he could now go home, pick up the pieces of his life, and start over. That too became just another unbearable dream. He arrived home to see a fellow standing at his front door.

The fellow asked Beltover his name and presented him with a summons to appear. It was the opening salvo from his wife’s lawyer. She wanted a divorce and lots of juicy support.   She also forced him to pay for the newest scheister in his life. Beltover had to move out of his house and weed farm.

The next day he lost the job he had taken to pay some of his legal fees. The concern fired him out of disgust over dealing with his repetitive wage garnishments. He thus found himself out on the street with no visible means of support. His first night of homelessness found him sleepless on a park bench. It earned him a night in the local box.

Being a scientist, Beltover was not the sort of man that learns “correctly”, in a socially-normal manner, from his mistakes. He did not go on to recover from his losses, become a huge financial success, and give speeches to all the wanna-bes about his greatness. He did not have or acquire the incentive to be a smarter entrepreneur.  Beltover only learned from his mistakes that he wanted revenge, truly, and lots of it. He stopped producing and selling his Portulaca Oleracea tea.

He no longer had soil space to grow the plants. Powder-speck insects had taken to eating them all anyway. How could he (in good conscience) use an insecticide on his herbs and then sell a health tea made from them? Beltover was way too ethical. He gave no more seeds away nor did he sell them.

How could he? They were now the property of his prospective ex-wife. Without his proprietary oxalic acid-extraction process, they were just weed seeds anyway. Loss of his plant dream, however, gave Beltover just the excuse he needed to turn down a different street. He got another job, sold all his few remaining belongings, paid as many bills as he could, and rented an apartment.

He soon lost the second job and his apartment. Why? Bill collectors and Rothschild’s very own Federal Internal Revenue Service would not leave him in peace.  The U.S. Treasury agent said. “I pay my taxes why don’t you? You’re paying your lawyers, your wife, the fines and judgments, why aren’t you paying us?”

What could he answer?  As the recognized agents of the parasitic Rothschild family of U.S. slave holders, they were certainly within their rights to ask. Why didn’t he indeed pay everyone? How dare he single out some to be paid (with his lost millions of dollars) and others to languish? Yet, a point can be reached when there is no more money to divide. Poor Rothschild!

Beltover’s credit cards were max’ed out years prior, and he was now dead broke. ALL his creditors continued to harass him. His former high moral sense diminished a tad. Then, it disappeared altogether. Revenge became his only ethic.

Along that road, the first order of business for Beltover now was education. His new dream was a bloodbath of maximum vengeance. There was no way to achieve that legally. He felt “Law” was in play just for very rich people and poor suckers. Truly well-informed missioned humans would never allow themselves to get entangled in its snares.

The disorder, which Belt felt, consumes reason on the planet is an absurd enchantment with a universal dominant code of laws. Bits of organized inanity are erroneously assumed to answer all questions of conduct and erratic behavior in an amoral world. These statutes, precedents and customs are sanctioned and enforced by a legal fraternity of corrupt windbags and their venal protectors. They are backed up by a herd of hired thugs called policemen, agents of the vile parasitic state. Contemporary humanity has absolutely no biosustainable excuse to still believe in the validity of Rousseau’s Social Contract.

As all truly contemplative people know, “civilization” and freedom are always going to be incompatible and mutually exclusive. Human safety does not depend upon our agreeing to be slaves, relinquishing our right to self-defense and freedom. To agree to a functional universal code of laws is absurd. Yet, for centuries now, a credence in the need for legal constraints, (which hamstrings and incarcerates people), holds full sway. People are indeed forced to give up their natural rights to freedom, income, and self-defense because the state’s lawyers-pols say it is necessary to be a happy populace (Or to stay out of jail). These lawyers and pols then set about doing the exact opposite. They rob and enslave the entire world with their dominant casuistry and gloved violence, calling it “civilization”.

People pay their taxes and give their sons to the porcine Zionists. In so doing, the rubes believe they are good citizens and nice people. The swindled money goes to build infrastructure that enslaves them ever more thoroughly. Some of the blood money goes to build arms that enslave people in other countries via gory wars. Yet, fools everywhere believe they are free!

Why? Pols give or enforce voting servitude. As if voting, choosing one stupid crooked monster over another, meant anything more than time wasted or vivid proof of voter imbecility. All voting does is indicate to the pols how many suckers still haven’t figured out how tightly they are chained. Belt wasn’t buying that “democracy bullshit”.

He wanted only to learn how to be a successful criminal. Prisons around the world are full of unsuccessful law-breakers. Beltover cared for none of that. He wanted to be as crooked as the attorneys that raped him but better at the game. Belt vowed he would learn the plastic ethics and all the vile tricks of the despicable filthy corrupt scheisters.

He would re-formulate himself into a cynosure of venality ever after articulating himself autophagistically. In flux, his morality, as if a fugue, would never be clear to others.

To explain how Beltover’s mind worked, we need to delve into his new abstruse sense of right and wrong. Beltover no longer believed in any objective standard of moral right or wrong. To the new Beltover, adjusting his morality a tad was akin to tweaking to perfection the sound on a stereo, i.e. easy to do.

Right and wrong for Belt were as analogous as woofers and tweeters. Anyone that ever violated him or behaved in such a way as to possibly hurt him by their actions, he felt was a worse criminal than himself. They were worthy of umbrage and maximum exploitation. That made all pols, lawyers and agents of the state his potential prey.

Behaving exactly as his worst enemies, the lawyers, Belt only hoped that he was more astute about it. Like an Ouroboros, Belt intended to destroy and redefine himself as he went along the road to finding his consummate revenge. Belt studied criminal law. He contemplated all that was necessary to avoid possible conviction for the types of crimes he thought he might wish to commit someday. The promising acolyte went to a number of courthouses.

He sat in on capital cases, befriending a number of alleged perpetrators.  As a law student, he was allowed to pursue the convicted to their several Federal Penitentiaries. There he renewed the acquaintances of some of the criminals he met in the courthouses at their trials. He selected those that were highly experienced in his expected crimes of choice.  Upon request, after a promise or two of help and some sub rosa message passing, they led him to a number of past accomplices that were not yet imprisoned.

This part of his education was the most difficult. People in the nether regions of society are reluctant to help “squares” and those of short acquaintance. Yet, within a few years, Beltover was aware of many mistakes, shortcomings and causes of failure, leading to his acquaintances’ arrest, conviction and imprisonment. He also studied top-earning lawyers, banking executives and pols. He learned some of the tricks they used to be able to commit the exact same crimes, most very much worse, than those imprisoned . . . never to experience punishment.  Belt was never graduated from his self-generated curriculum. He, nonetheless, one day, was ready to start putting into practice what was learned. He passed the “Belt” exam.

About 5 years after unfortunately giving Portulaca Oleracea seeds to his “friends”, he came upon a “welcome” sight. Belt saw the treacherous one with kidney problems, that opened proceedings against him, enter a bar. Belt ducked into the establishment too and sat at a booth far enough away from his “friend” to not be recognized. His “friend” made 3 trips to the bathroom during a 2 hour binge. Beltover watched and recorded everything.

For three weeks he staked out the bar at the same time, until he knew the man’s routine rather well. Using hot glue and some raw-materials he found in a Dempsey dumpster, Beltover made a wig and some other props that would adequately disguise his appearance.

Then, he stuffed a few large plastic bags, some rubber bands, and his disguise into his coat. About 15 minutes before his “friend” was scheduled to arrive at the bar, Beltover entered another bar down the street. He bought a beer, and went to the restroom.

There, he made his disguise fit the purpose. He left the first bar and entered the bar that was to be the bar of his expected crime. In a toilet stall, he put the plastic bags on his arms and feet. The rubber bands secured them. Watching the door, he waited for the victim to enter.

It turned out to be a longer wait than anticipated. The first time his prospective victim entered, the man was not alone. Witnesses to the potential assault would have been unavoidable. Beltover felt he must forego the attack some. After about an hour of waiting, his trembling subsided.

He began feeling better about the eventual success of his plan. The kidney-stone fellow finally entered alone and went to a urinal. Beltover slipped silently out of the toilet stall and slit the “friend’s” exposed throat while the man was still fishing in his pants for his penis. Grabbing the victim’s wallet, Beltover ran to the rest-room doorway. There, he ripped off the plastic bags from his own feet and arms.

He thrust everything he used and touched into a clean plastic bag and used it on the door handle to make his exit. Fortunately, no one was entering the rest room’s outer alcove as he exited. He was able to leave the establishment un-accosted. He immediately made for the earlier bar, where he had donned his disguise.  The place was crowded, and he was able to enter the bathroom almost un-noticed.

Belt removed his disguise unmolested. Everything was placed in the plastic bag, compressed, and inserted into his overcoat.  Beltover bought another beer and returned to his apartment. There, he incinerated everything that could tie him to the murder. Without evidence of the disguise, his alibi at the first bar was solid.

Belt left no DNA or prints at the scene of the crime.  Only the beer glasses at the first bar were covered with his prints. Those prints could only substantiate his alibi. He thought about the possibilities of re-using his disguise on another victim. Ultimately, he also burned it with the rest of the evidence.

As it turned out, he was never even picked up on suspicion. Beltover wanted to repeat his crime on the attorneys that raped him. He felt it was too soon after achieving success in his first vendetta. Instead, he began gaining experience in other areas of criminal expertise. It supplemented his small income.

As has been mentioned, Belt saw no possible reason for the state or attorneys to exist. He felt torts, perpetrated upon any state or the minions of any anti-Beltover organization, were eminently justifiable. For example, Beltover saw police as mere agents or pawns of the state and the rapacious wealthy. As such, they were his potential enemies. He refrained from attacking them, however, out of fear of inexorable retribution.

For the same reason, as much as he wanted to, he did not feel he would pick on any corrupt top pol. Too much risk was foolish, he thought.  Internal Revenue agents were not too big of a risk. They worked indirectly for Rothschild and Rothschild-ilk’s sycophant’s interests. As such, they were in effect thieves themselves and agents of mass murderers.

They had no value and were not to be spared retribution. Others, Belt felt, having no redeeming value were top executives of nuclear power companies, also potential victims. He felt it was the profession of lawyers and judges to protect thieves, cheats and murderers while raping decent people. The “legal lice” also became prey. He was still including Beltover in the “decent” category, of course.

Top sales executives of BigPharma were also fair game and potential victims, as were illegal drug peddlers. You could not ask Beltover how he discriminated between the moral turpitude of large executives and small ones. He would be hard pressed to answer you.

Much depended on access to loot and availability of the victim. Persons in Belt’s designated nefarious trades, but of very low grade, Beltover let slide.

Their guilt was similar in kind. But, it was not so in degree. Also, they were usually indigent. Generally, Beltover would have no concrete answer for you as to how he allocated guilt and potential victimhood. The question was petty esoterica and unimportant to him.

Perhaps, he felt it was more of a time issue than a guilt question. One can kill just so many people in life if one chooses to go at it one by one. It is so much more efficient to be an indiscriminate mega-murderer, blessed with impunity like Rothschild, Mao, Stalin, Pol Pot, Cheney, Kissinger, Bill Gates, Georges Bushes – Soros or the Clintons, etc. Those who kill individually are considered vicious thugs. To the grazing multitudes, genocidal maniacs like Kings, Presidents, and big corporate fascist executives are essentially just highly-feared bean-counters, untouchable. The Pope or the Muslim orgiastic few, corrupt bootlickers of top fascist fiends and pols, rot in the same feces stew.

Beltover was following in the footsteps of two other great anti-fascists. He heard the talk about Elboruh Lebensrau and Rav Aloirav. But, he did not really believe such heroes actually existed. They were just mirages in the fantasizing minds of desperate, thinking people like himself. That there were inconsistencies in his rationalized justifications did not bother Belt.

He was on a mission, rationalizing contradictory motives without much effort. One of the main problems in Beltover’s life was his indigent state, incessantly financially embarrassed. At times, it was a boon. Needing to scavenge in Dempsey Dumpsters for disguise raw-materials, unable to go to costume shops and buy them outright, meant police could not trace any provenance to him. But generally, his crimes lacked flamboyant displays of imagination due to the lack of funds.

After he had built up about 20 notches on his glue-gun, he was really becoming upset about still being so poor. It was beginning to eat into his self-esteem. He longed for the day when he might perform criminal feats worthy of admiration. Although, he would not admit it if questioned, Belt dreamed of one day meeting his fanciful mentors, Elboruh Lebensrau and Ravmond Aloirav. Then, it happened, the great change in his fortune occurred.

It was on a Monday after a national holiday. He was engaged in following a political attorney at the time, putting the finishing touches on the potential victim’s life-pattern. The cravat’s day always included a stop, at the same time, on a bridge in Boston near Long Wharf. There was no possibility for an attack there. It was a highly visible and popular point from which to view Boston’s Harbor.

Beltover knew where the man would be at that time, however. He went there to take up the diurnal stalking. As Belt arrived, the prospective victim turned to leave the bridge. He headed toward the Haymarket and Faneuil Hall with Belt in symbolic tow. A passing drunk distracted Beltover, momentarily.

The cravat took that very moment to disappear from Beltover’s vista. Beltover was immediately aware of the disappearance. He knew it meant something special.

Feeling the unexpected absence might be important, Belt ran toward the spot where the cravat disappeared from his view. Just before encountering the man, Beltover rubber-necked the area.

Wondering to where the man could have gone, he bent to look underneath a large fruit van. There, on the van’s farther side, Beltover saw 4 shoes and their associated trouser’d calves. He immediately knew the cravat was meeting someone. He was not just taking a piss. What a dilemma!

Attacking two victims at the same time was sheer lunacy, Belt thought! Yet, he made another quick survey of the area anyway. There were no bystanders to serve as potential witnesses. The truck was in juxtaposition to another fruit van and both were directly abutting a high brick wall without windows. Judging from the small enclosed space, Beltover instinctively suspected the tete-a-tete was shady.

Therefore, it was also, most likely, of remunerative dimensions. Of course, there was no way of knowing for sure. Yet, the two men could not escape by running if they tried to do so. There was only about a meter separating the two vehicles. Belt vacillated for just a few seconds before joining the occupied space.

The man nearest the brick wall, a fat man, saw him first and yelled to the other. “Hey, we got company.”

The attorney turned and was about to say, “What the He . . .”, when Beltover’s knife tore through his throat.  The cravat crumpled to the pavement.

The fat man backed up, against the brick wall, putting both his hands in the air between Beltover and himself, saying. “Hey man. I’m not your enemy and no hero. Take what you want.”

Beltover stabbed him in the left eye.  When the chubby little hands went to that eye, Beltover stabbed into his solar plexus. He twisted the knife down through the heart. As the man began to die, Beltover cut his jugular. Within seconds, all bubbling sounds ceased from both bodies.

Beltover collected all that was available by way of loot and began looking for a clear exit.

A guy with a dolly, loaded with 4 boxes of head lettuce, was approaching the vans. Beltover saw no one else. He waited as the man approached, prepared for some collateral damage. The dolly wielder turned to open the proximal fruit van’s back doors, never seeing Beltover.

As the lettuce man turned and bent over to pick up a box, Beltover walked out from the inter-truck space. The van’s large back door obscured the dolly-man’s peripheral vision. Beltover never turned around, until he was past an obstructing building. From there he watched from cover as the dolly man discovered the bloody scene.  Beltover walked as fast as was calmly possible from there.

He made his way to a spot where he could, unobserved, clean off the blood. The spot he chose was underneath an old railway bridge. The water there was stagnant but did not appear to be sewage. When Belt was satisfied he was no longer a sight, he examined the loot. There was a 1 kilo plastic bag filled with white powder and a few thousand dollars from the fat man’s body.

$100 bills and another much smaller plastic bag of white powder filled the attorney’s briefcase. The lawyer’s wallet was also rich and filled with $100 bills. His briefcase was a common type. Beltover did not dump it in the water along with the incriminating wallets. Other than the wallets, he put everything in the briefcase and climbed up the grade from the bridge embankment.

Everything was tranquil above. Belt went to his cheap room at the ex-hotel in Dorchester. There he counted the money, ($546,000), and hid the white powder. Now, the man was indeed rich. With some of the money he bought new clothes and a small satchel.

Beltover put the plastic bags of white powder in a paper sack and the money in the satchel. Over a period of about 3 hours he slowly burned all the possible evidence and everything he owned that wasn’t of much value. Having finished his ablutions, Belt left with all his belongings for the South Station bus depot. There, he bought a ticket to New York. In New York he stored all but $10,000 and the small bag of the white powder in a 24 hour personal deposit vault.

Belt put the key in his pocket along with the dope and the $10,000. When he encountered a drug dealer he started up a short conversation about how to go about selling about a kilo of cocaine or heroin.  Within a short time, Belt unloaded all his powder and was $60,000 richer. He knew the dope was worth much more, but he was satisfied. Drug dealing, sanctioned or otherwise, was not one of his crimes of choice.

He never used drugs of any kind and didn’t understand those who did use them. His sentiment carried over to their providers as well. Belt believed that trusting an illegal drug dealer was almost as dumb as trusting a pol with your freedom, a lawyer with your money, a credentialed doctor with your health, or a banker with your property. “Lawyers, bankers and pols are all treacherous,” he said, “and medical doctors or surgeons (even the best of them) are bulls in china shops.”

Belt merely wanted to get rid of his cache without any fuss. $60,000 beat flushing it down the toilet. He considered himself lucky that he wasn’t robbed or killed for the trouble. Now he had over $600,000 in his possession.  It was time to begin planning a larger and more lucrative heist.

 

As strange as it may seem and as principled as Beltover initially was, he hated religionists. He came about this hatred by once admitting his atheism to a religionist. The ignorance, shock, dismay and hatred displayed by the god-monger made Beltover do some needed research. He discovered that atheists in general were perceived as common enemies of the human race. Most people believed the atheists deserved castigation for no other reason than that they were outside the fold of superstition and organized barbarism.

His new knowledge now added religionists and other superstitious cowards to Beltover’s list of sworn enemies. To Beltover, there was probably no animal in the world more ignorant than a U.S. Christian. There also did not appear to him to be any beast more stupid than an orthodox Muslim. The Jews were hard to decipher, i.e. what was a Jew anyway? Was it a Levitic Y chromosome haplotype, a penis-biting delusional rabbi, an Ashkenazi miser, or a Khazar Zionist monster?

All the religiously-demented souls boiled down to assorted categories to him. He relegated them to various pigeonholes of subhumanity. Intermingled with the religious witchcraft mob and present as a large component Belt consigned at-av-neg deletion mutants.  Religious hocus-pocus mumbo-jumbo had become largely just a shibboleth to identify local capitalist frauds. At-av-negatives found a deceptive home there. At present, Belt knew, religion was wrecking the planet and there could never be enough religion-motivated terrorism. If there were more Israeli-Jew-Muslim-Christian carnage, Belt felt, the world would definitely become a better place in time.

Virtually all religious people are just too stupid, ignorant or scared to confront their dementia. These poor, ignorant, superstitious cowards create an imaginary world, in which to retreat. Sorcerers, ghosts, zombies, and goblins inhabit their “other world”. They feel the imaginary denizens somehow justify their disavowal of the real world and excuse their cowardice and general irresponsibility. The very most that Belt could say in their favor was that they were unreliable.

But, Rav Aloirav, the great genetic engineer, felt the upper level clerics were not just willful examples of subhumanity. He accused the church hierarchy of conspiring with fascists and being enemies of biosustainability. He insisted that they should be removed. Beltover pondered over the question as to whether all religious people or at least the parents should be killed. Their children could be raised in religion-sanitized schools.

Would that cure the vacuity, manifesting as a dreadful disease of the human spirit?   Would the madness that grips our society continue?  He didn’t know. Nevertheless, he imagined a utopian world without the sad ignorance and brutality of religion contaminating everything. As convinced of the perniciousness of religion as he was, Belt was not so inclined to see the world as delineated only between the religious and those who were not so enthralled.

He did see it divided between those who venerated ignorance and those who sought awareness. It just so happened that most of those who venerated ignorance were in the religious camps. Whatever, religion is an effective barometer of how much money people feel they need to buy off existential death. There exists a correlation and a direct proportion between stupidity, cowardice and strength of religious belief.  Beltover, therefore, became increasingly interested in focusing his future criminal behavior on these ignorant “partisans of perdition”, as he called them.

There was a case to be made, thought Beltover, for terrorism that is not religious in Nature.  He was fond of imagining all the benefits that might accrue to the human race from a quiet (but rapidly growing) secular terrorism. He now made his victim choices based on a gradient of parasitism. The gradient was arrived at mathematically, i.e. the number of isolated reasons that made a parasite, divided by the degree of difficulty to remove it, sealed its fate. Rav Aloirav would have approved his selection criteria more than Elboruh Lebensrau.

Belt’s next victim was a church lawyer. Schooled in both accounting and law, the wealthy cravat was an effective banker. He was also an extremely competent leech on the good (willfully ignorant) souls of the congregation. Being well-endowed with the usual proportion of pomposity found in the legal profession, the cravat was not difficult to hate. Belt found it quite a simple operation to separate the man and his loot from his parasitic existence.

The small success of removing an oily god-mongering mess of a subhuman gave Belt but an immediate pleasure. He remained unfulfilled, still longing to perform a truly imaginative crime. He wished to do something that would benefit not only himself but the entire world. Finding an exclusive population of non-parasites, (i.e. that did not fit into his prey category), to benefit with his crimes was not possible. Belt knew that all life, not purely photosynthetic or saprophytic, was parasitic.

All simians swam in the waters of legal, state-dominated oceans. Even he could not be a purist and still be a predatory carnivore. The inconsistencies and hypocrisy in his motives were numerous. Belt knew it, and it bothered him. He did not know how to resolve the conundrum.  So, Belt just continued to follow his banal star.

After removing the Christian cravat, Belt took a sabbatical in Rhodes, sitting on the beach among thousands of naked women. At 4PM, when the beach nakedness began to thin, Belt went to look for other sources of inspiration. He searched in beautiful Greek restaurants, consuming spanakopita and baklava, washed down with ample quantities of Cabernet Sauvignon. Belt didn’t find peace there either. So, he went to Mykonos, attempting the same thing.

He nearly froze to death on the beach in the early morning hours, waiting for the naked girls to arrive.  No further advances in his spiritual state appeared. He took a boat to Algeciras and then another to Morocco. He sat in a Kasbah restaurant, drinking herb tea and smoking hash. Still no relief.

How was he to create his masterpiece if he didn’t know what it was?

Killing the cringing Christian made a nihilistic impression on him. Religious imbeciles were just cheap existential pansies. They were hardly worth his time or risk. Such vermin were most of the reason behind why the porcine fraternity considered all (not kindred rich or psychopathic spirits) humans to be beasts. Most people were subhuman herd fauna, they maintained amongst themselves, while the religious were even lower animals like rabbits or rats, unworthy of consideration.

Belt found himself agreeing with the pig brotherhood to an uncomfortable degree. It made him determine to one-day cease and desist in his petty muggings and armed robberies. Being rich enough now in financial resources, what he wanted was fulfillment beyond filthy lucre and revenge. He had, by this time, punished all those who bankrupted him years ago. That was the most memorable of his most satisfying group of experiences.

It was much easier than he had envisioned too. Something went wrong, however, when he took out his last victimizers, his ex-wife and her lawyer-lover. It was embarrassing. It also resulted in a warrant being issued for his arrest for a dual murder. He had to go to Rio, narrowly avoiding being brought in on a lien.

There, Belt was able to buy a quality passport. It was given, minus the photo, to a real existing person who just happened to be imprisoned forever in a Belgian insane asylum. The crazy fellow would never be able to cause Belt any problems, unless he escaped. That eventuality appeared highly unlikely.  Belt next got a digital device implanted in his head to protect him from international airport biometric recognition machines.

His gait was still distinctive though, and he needed to do daily exercises to change that.

He didn’t feel very uneasy about his fugitive status. It was just another part of his unfolding story. What made him really uneasy was the need to define himself in an amoral world. Where does one begin?

Reading philosophy books didn’t help. There was always the possibility of a random toothache’s arrival to throw everything he believed out of whack. Belt thought about how close the human race was to nuclear holocaust.  It gave him pause. Didn’t he have just as much a right to survive, protecting his life and that of his children as did a pol, a banker or a lawyer?

Stupid demented psychopaths, elected by stupid demented eunuchs, Belt thought, control the world’s contingencies. Controlled, that is, as much as they can be controlled. Well-balanced educated nobility were never elected, never got the chance, or were immediately assassinated. The crazies do not care that we are on the edge of oblivion every single day. We almost went out during the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962 and then again during that debacle in Ukraine in 2015.

Only a few heroes ever appear. Those that have popped up, fortunately, have been keeping the human race separated from psychopathically-induced extinction. Democracy, as ever, seeks to drive us all to hell. Belt said.

“As irrational as I may sound to democratic sheeple, whatever works to save us applies. The problem devolves directly to the fault of the at-av-neg deletion mutants. All at-av-neg deletion mutants must go. Big bankers, pols and lawyers represent 97% of all these at-av-neg deletion mutants. Heroin addicts and chemical freaks make up the remaining 3%.  These aberrations all must die if humanity is to survive!”

Then, he thought deeper . . . on the porcine fraternity’s case for general extermination. Should the entire human race, except the porcine pogues themselves, be immediately extinguished, forever? Could the pigs be right? Perhaps they are? During its some 40,000 years of existence, not absolving the at-av-negatives, however, the human race has done nothing to benefit the planet.

It has already been responsible for at least two extremely devastating extinctions of its fellow planetary creatures. Soon, if it is not stopped, it will destroy all life on Earth. It already has nearly the capacity to export its soul-less ultra-aggressive mania to other planets. Just contaminating Mars with its infection is not so bad, since Mars is already dead. Other planets may not be so fortunate.

Now is the time to decide our fate. The human species is a brutal irresponsible species and a negative force on the planet.  However, it would be unkind and imprudent to expect a child to sit in judgment over its parent and visa versa. Compounding the problem is the fact that Human Nature is evolving. It is an itinerant, a vagabond colonized by symbionts and enslaved by millions of trillions of commensals and parasites.

Introns, exons, degraded and degrading RNA, mitochondria, gut flora and fauna, peripheral commensals and parasites, Paf1C epigenetics, other humans, drugs in the drinking water, drugs in the prescription form, etc. all take a toll on pristine human nature. Therefore, we could never hope to come to any decision on this question by ourselves. It is ridiculous to even postulate it.

How could the personalities of millions of trillions of other entities ever be able to come to any lasting cohesive decision? Human Nature does not, indeed cannot, exist. If it should, it changes irreversibly by the nanosecond. Either way it is beyond human control. It can only be either truncated or destroyed.

Nevertheless, the problem (of and in its putative existence) must at least be stated and described. There is probably no group of animals to have ever existed that is so ignorant and destructive of natural flora & fauna and the spirit of life as is Man. The conservative religious subset of humanity is perhaps the best example of this horror. But even if not identified by this brilliant badge of mindlessness, the rest of humanity is not much better. Not even most atheists, at-av-positive individuals, and persons rational enough to forego the pleasures of superstitious inanity are immune.

The same personality disorder which brings the pusillanimous religious moron to his hiatus of reason afflicts the rational man. This disorder, cowardice, is a product in part of constitutive survival genes. They make even the intelligent accept the irresponsible religious maniac’s hegemony. Then too, life is no longer as simple as it was for Lycurgus of Sparta – just to “live brave, until you die but do not throw your life away”. Today’s man must also take steps to survive or his life’s meaning dissolves before his very eyes. Look what it has cost the planet! Existence has become more than ever a balancing act. Life, death and the interface are all pulsating shades of homeostasis in preparation for the ultimate entropy.

The Pontibus technology to exploit near space, and provide sufficient resources for all the planet’s life forms, has been available for decades. All major problems of pollution and energy dearth can be solved under its rubric. Why has it not been implemented?  The inundating human worship of ignorance and petty caedere avarice has placed distracting toys in front of the very people who hover over the means. If the awareness should in fact arise, timidity returns sobriety to the realm of the bugaboo.  The only remedy (for rampant simian over-population and resource exhaustion) that exists is thus ignored.

There does indeed seem to be no other alternative to removing the human cancer from the planet. As mentioned, the porcine fraternity, feeling their own worth to be far greater than we unwashed billions, have decreed that all of us must die. We, most likely, will go at their hand via starvation, disease or nuclear radiation. They have constructed underground bunkers (arcs), stocked with food, energy, oxygen, water, horticultural cultivars, valued species, and other essentials. Surviving within a contaminated earth for 100-plus years or more is the strategy.

The porcines probably plan on sending out in 100 years a human servant or two, like Noah’s doves, to the post-holocausted world to ascertain if the planet is yet habitable. Belt opposed all three potential deaths and the survival of only the pigs for obvious reasons. He just did not know where to begin his mission. Then, it happened, the epiphany that changed his life forever.

Beltover was doing some practical research in the interest of discovering an accessible heir, legitimate or otherwise, of the Rothschild family. Once located, he could make plans to take it down as his next prey. The City of London’s complex Rothschild Archive is a rich historical source for psychopathic Khazar background until 1930. However, it was unavailable to assassins of Belt’s ilk. Only bona fide researchers were allowed access and by appointment only. Beltover was hardly bona fide. Would-be consulters needed to present details of their proposed research and two references, in writing.

Website Rothschild was equally too difficult to exploit.  Document transcripts, obtained from others, were not easily acquired, either, Belt discovered. There was much mendacity available, concerning the Rothschild clan, but very little valuable intelligence. Therefore, he felt he had no alternative but to go to one of the French Châteaus in Bordeaux and wait for a Rothschild scion to arrive. When he was sure of the fellow’s identity, despite the probable entourage, Belt felt he could attack.

As he waited to pounce, Belt thought about all the propaganda in the media and on the internet regarding the Rothschild family. To believe the contrived stories available one could not but accept how decadent and benign the pigs had become since their heyday of wholesale rape of the planet’s financial resources. Belt wasn’t buying any of it. These subhuman monsters had run roughshod over the planet for centuries. Their influence was insidious, and their DNA was interspersed among most of the world’s financial and political hierarchy.

Belt believed, even outside of the Rothschild rubric, that all political and economic authority was illegitimate. He felt ALL pols deserved a horrible and immediate death. Bankers everywhere still looked to the Rothschild-Bauers as their role models. The Fed still enslaved the world. If there was indeed some lessening of the Khazar family’s invidious influence it was slight.

Khazars were still the quintessential at-av-neg deletion mutants of the world. The entire world carried on its back the burden (of corrupted pols and their Khazar masters). The problem, Belt faced, was acquiring intelligence on the various family members and their protected money. Belt had few illusions. He knew the effectiveness of using a victim as a ploy to get other at-av-neg mutants to betray hidden assets was an ignis fatuus.

Subhumans of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha-Windsor, Rothschild, Warburg, Rockefeller, Oppenheimer, Schiff, Gates, Buffet, etc. ilk were not susceptible to the same values as were humans. The unfortunate prey of a human vindicator was on its own. Another Khazar beast was not about to place itself in harm’s way over a fallen cohort. Even a ransom, if tendered, would be predicated on some surefire way of leading to the perpetrator’s demise. Although it was not a complete gamble on Belt’s part, his stalking was pretty much an impromptu affair.

After two weeks of waiting and watching, sleeping in Bordeaux hotels, eating in stuffy restaurants, Belt was getting discouraged. What he was contemplating was all so disorganized and risky. He wasn’t even sure he would know a Rothschild scion if one appeared. One night, after another unsuccessful stake-out, Belt went to a local bar. He bought a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, interspersing his sips with bites of local Brie.

Toward the end of the evening, he was contemplating the idea that his latest venture should end that very evening. A fellow wine bibber, home from Paris for the holidays, just trying to be friendly, stopped at Belt’s table and asked what an obvious American was doing in the area. Belt answered with his usual disinformation line, hoping the fellow would just leave. Belt was disappointed, because the fellow said, “I think you’re lying. I’ve seen you around town. You’ve been here, quite some time, trying to get a glimpse of a Rothschild. You haven’t been successful at it yet, and you’re uncomfortable about hanging around any longer.”

“It’s that obvious?” Belt riposted.

“No. I was just guessing.” The man replied, laughing.

“Well, you’re pretty good at it.” Belt said.

“Actually, it wasn’t that hard. Most tourists around here are looking for similar things. Half are morbidly interested in the Rothschild family. But, I’m a scientist too. It’s my profession to observe and make logical hypotheses.”

“I’m an obvious American tourist?” Belt asked.

“Yes. Your gait, clothes, hair, lack of command of French, cheap brie with a fine Cabernet . . . all immediately gives you away.”

“Of course it does.” Belt agreed. “I too am a scientist by profession, although I have not engaged in its practice for some time now.”

“Why not?”

Belt gave a little bit of his history, leaving out the parts that might lead a good detective to find places in it that were unhealthy for Belt’s future. The two found a rapport in discussing similar biological interests. The stranger told Belt some things about his job at the Pasteur Institute in Paris. Each soon discovered he had met his kindred spirit in the other. Belt even mentioned his distaste for fascists.

They drank the night away and took a few bottles down to the beach to finish it off. The Pasteur fellow explained to Belt all the intricacies of his work with CRISPR/Cas9, the DNA editing gene. They took to fantasizing over all the harm done the planet by the porcine fraternity, the fascist lackeys, and the plethora of at-av-neg mutants. Belt said.

“Wouldn’t it be something if someone could build a virus, using CRISPR/Cas9?”

“What?!”

“Imagine,” Belt said, laughing, “editing out at-av deletion sequences, replacing them with apoptosis cistrons.”

His new friend said nothing but only stared at Belt for an uncomfortably long time. Belt got uneasy and said.

“Did I say something that I shouldn’t have said? Does the thought bother you?”

“I don’t know. It really hit a nerve with me.”

“Good or bad?”

“I don’t know. Just the concept makes me uncomfortable though.”

“You mean you think it’s possible?!” Belt asked.

“Yes. I do believe such a thing is possible.”

“Wow! Imagine how many monsters would disappear if it was released into the general population?”

“Yes. Imagine.” His friend said, not very animated.

“I see.” Belt accused. “You’re feeling uncomfortable because you feel a human responsibility to work toward such a construct but you don’t have the courage or the will?”

“It may be something like that. The morality is certainly questionable.”

“What is the greater crime – murder or allowing someone else to continue enslaving us while committing mass murder?”

“An enormous ethical question.”

“Yes, it is. Isn’t it?”

“Belt. If I had an at-av deletion sequence, even just a few bases, I could do the search & editing aspect with CRISPR/Cas9. I have access to the software and the transfection tools, etc. I don’t know much about apoptosis genes, and I don’t know how to build viruses ‘n such from scratch either. I guess that relieves me of the onus of not doing anything in that regard.”

“Not entirely.” Belt countered. “There’s a guy in Brazil that, some say, builds all kinds of viruses.”

“Aloirav?”

“Yeah. You’ve heard of him?”

“Just via those internet books, he supposedly writes.”

“I don’t know either if (he really exists or) it’s just an internet fantasy.”

“I can do a search on him tomorrow at the lab.”

“Maybe you better use an internet café. You don’t want Pasteur to get wind of what we are thinking.”

“Yah. You may be right. Are you sure you’re going home tomorrow?”

“Not now. I want to stay until I see what you uncover tomorrow after you Google “aloirav”.”

“Okay. Shall we meet at the bar?”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

Neither man dared discuss deeply what they were contemplating – building a biological weapon. It was premeditated murder, at the very least, an international crime. In their defense, both men felt that the possibilities of finding success in what they were dreaming of doing were nearly impossible. It was still just an exercise in hypothetical molecular biology. There was no real plan yet.

They felt they should have nothing to fear from the law or the Rothschild clan. The next day, the Pasteur biologist reported to Belt, as agreed. It appeared that a man named Ravmond Aloirav did actually exist. He, supposedly, lived in Maranhao, Brazil. Google mentioned a place called Hotel Aloirav in Andirobal.

The knowledge precipitated a further slide down the slope they were both navigating. Belt was a free agent. Since his new friend was employed, they both felt it was for Belt to go and investigate. If all was as it seemed, Belt would inquire of Rav Aloirav as to the possibilities of obtaining his help in creating a virus with both search and destroy capabilities. Belt went.

As it turned out, it was a month before he was even able to talk with Rav Aloirav. He never did get the chance to meet with the man face to face. Aloirav associates saw to that. They made Belt strip naked and enter a soundproof room in Hotel Aloirav to talk to their “boss” via intercom. The “boss” would not use email or cell phones.

Seeing no other way to accomplish his mission, Belt took a terrible risk and explained to the hotelier what it was he and his French friend were contemplating. Receiving no immediate negative feedback, Belt felt encouraged. He asked the “boss” if such an enterprise was even possible. Rav thought about it and told Belt he would get back to him.

That was the end of the interview. The “boss” talked to Elboruh Lebensrau. Both men then spent more time investigating Belt and his friend. When the hotelier got back to Belt, it was another two weeks. For 6 weeks Belt was forced to live in the noisy, dirty little frontier village of Andirobal.

His only pleasant time, each day, was watching the alligators eating rats in the hotel’s lobby. Ignorance in Andirobal was institutionalized and Belt was very bored. He was on the verge of using drugs when the hotelier finally summoned him for a repeat visit. Aloirav said.

“I must admit, what you are considering is interesting and attractive. In the event these bastards initiate a nuclear war to wipe us all out, your proposed vector would, almost surely, eliminate their escape provisions.”

“Yes, it would. There would be no place for them to hide.”

“I’ll come right to the rub, my friend. I don’t think you two can do the job, even if I gave you the apoptosis genes.”

“My friend has a great deal of experience in genetic engineering.”

“Skill is only part of the problem. Genetic engineering isn’t the recondite subject it was 50 years ago. Dr. Cloner’s Home Cloning Kit let that all out of Pandora’s bag. Knowledgeable technicians are plentiful. What you are contemplating is building a biological weapon. Are you not aware of that?!”

“Y – y – yes, sir.”

“There exist those who do not like competition in such work.  Should they get wind of your objectives, they will stop you . . . dead. You will never get the chance to be prosecuted.”

“I can keep it quiet.”

“I’m not so sure of that. Implementing a laboratory productive of such an endeavor is extremely expensive. Keeping it clandestine will be just as expensive. I do not see such resources in your portfolio.”

“You know my assets?”

“Of course not! I do, however, know what are NOT your assets. Do you think I was beating my meat for 6 weeks while you were dangling around here waiting to enjoy my presence?”

“I – I – guess not.”

“Whatever. As you can easily determine from our conversation conditions, leaks are a special hazard with which my associates and I must live. They are a daily concern. I do not know your French friend, personally, and I’m sure you do not know him the way I do.  A laboratory, capable of creating such a device, and its security is only half the infrastructure necessary. You will need vaccines to protect yourself long before you can even hope to begin deployment. Can you guarantee such conditions will be met?”

“No, but why should they be necessary? I’m not an at-av-neg mutant.”

“And you are so sure of that because . . ? “

“I’m not a greedy billionaire or a filthy pol.”

“You are not? But you might have a base-pairing that is similar to a CRISPR-vulnerable match. From what I understand, RNA-guided CRISPR enzymes are Type V restriction enzymes, so Cas9 is an RNA guided nuclease. CRISPR loci usually show dyad symmetry – hairpin secondary structure but not perfect palindromes. So, you might confuse Cas9 or you might have the capacity to somehow become at-av-neg, if the opportunities so presented. Have you sequenced your own genome? Do you even know the base-pairing of the at-av site?”

“Well . . . “

“Of course not. If you do not have answers to all these questions, how can you say you can afford the project?”

“So. What you’re intimating is that it all boils down to preparation and bucks?”

“No, Belt. It isn’t that simple. You don’t understand the gravity of what you are contemplating. You only see the positives. The positives are all great . . . get rid of the porcine fraternity, their underground escape plans and all the world’s leading psychopaths. There are negatives too, and they happen to be equally great.”

“Like what?”

“We’ll forget for a moment that the porcine few are, every day, looking for enemies like the ones you represent. And, here is an indication of some of what else I’ve been thinking. Imagination is indeed a gift from the gods.  But, of which gods are we speaking? Some gods were even more evil than the people descending from them. Sumerian texts and other early attempts at human abstract expression vividly portray a picture of our Earthly ancestors as extra-terrestrials. They are most likely the latter inhabitants of the planet Mars. Mars, prior to our own advent, was a thriving planet. Conflicts, as ever, science tells us, between opposing imaginations, destroyed it in a great nuclear war.  Unlike Hiroshima and Nagasaki, that extra-terrestrial nuclear conflagration was created AND accomplished mentally. Later atomic bombs, on Earth, came about via Oppenheimer & MIT. They needed to be built from scratch, using conceptual imagination, work, intelligence, and risk. What many people fail to understand is that our contemporary imagination, (human conceptual dreaming), is only one part of complete imagination.  Extra-terrestrials possessed original comprehensive imagination. Extra-terrestrials could divide and separate intact imagination into a two-part capacity. The first part, our part, is like a digital photo – abstract or virtual reality. The second part is the realization or development into concrete reality . . . Creation. The extra-terrestrials did not give our Homo erectus ancestors any of the cistron(s) for imagination. All they gave them was a capacity to produce offspring with intelligence, reason, and those pedestrian qualities that made for docile slaves. They did indeed give Neanderthal a meiotic gamete containing the gene for imagination.  It was only partial imagination, i.e. only the abstract first facet. And, the first phenotype was expressed only in Neanderthal’s Aurignacian progeny. Neanderthal was intelligent, more so than his progeny. That was our extra-terrestrial ancestors’ gift to Homo erectus’ progeny. But Mousterian Neanderthal was never able to use even conceptual imagination because it was only given to him in a sex cell, as intelligence was given to Homo erectus progeny. Imagination only began to express phenotypically in the Cro-Magnon. It may eventually have consumed its incubating Mousterian creator. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, we only gained the virtual facet of imagination. If we wish the second facet, creativity, we must work to achieve our dreams. We must build the realization up from the roots, using much intelligence, will and travail. Perhaps our ancestors felt that we, like those who destroyed Mars, were not ready for the concretizing second part. Perhaps it was an inadvertent birth defect, with the at-av-neg mutation & negative imagination being simple detriments, corrupted files, genetic trash residuals of the failure to pass on to us the concretizing moiety, like a failed oversized cosmid fails to transduce. Perhaps, there are those of us that have received them in consolation, accidentally, or as stochastic mutations that represent creativity dearth. Whatever. The at-av-neg mutants and negative impact imagination traits, expressing phenotypically, destroy great states as well as human happiness. We know that, like the rh-neg locus, the at-av-neg locus represents the lack of something. Both demonstrate the hiatus of an enzyme . . . 90kd in the case of the at-av locus. What if imagination’s two parts: 1.Conceptualization 2. Creation, as derivatives of extra-terrestrial capacity, were selectively left out of human mental capacity, purposefully, respectively, like software standard home-style is less versatile and effective than software professional. Rh positive proteins assist in toxic cellular CO2 removal, prevent a rare disease, and make red blood cells more fit, but they also tend to lower the intelligence of the phenotype. The at-av-positive 90kd anti-asshole protein protects the bearer from a constitutive aggression-avarice phenotype. It also prevents the phenotype from being an asshole and accumulating excessive power and money. Also, where the deletion ends meet and ligate a quasi-palindromic sequence is formed. Clearly, the at-av-positive reading frame of the same region of the strand does not exist in the same way. CRISPR/Cas9, the editing gene, can be modified to search out the palindrome of the at-av-neg ligated deletion and replace the entire region with an apoptosis gene. The cell will die, of course, along with all the body’s cells transfected with that insertion, or . . .”

“Or what?”

“Or, the entire organism will die first. Now, for my great negative . . . what if the at-av-neg locus codes for a different protein, perhaps one that the human race may potentially need to survive when in conflict with extra-terrestrials?” The hotelier asked.

“The Hardy-Weinberg equilibrium theorem states that genotype frequencies in a population will stay constant, generation to generation, absent other evolutionary influences.”

“And we are not “other evolutionary influences”?”

“Well. . .”

“You’re saying we cannot, even if we will, remove all the at-av-neg mutants?” The “boss” said.

“Some will undoubtedly survive to plague us forever.”

“Perhaps. I’m not a Hardy-Weinberg aficionado. Plus, unlike the rh-neg locus, found even in plants and microbes, the at-av-neg gene is probably a late-arriver on time’s evolutionary scale. Did the at-av-neg deletion locus fall into disuse and the at-av-pos enzyme holders gain hegemony? Or, were the at-av-pos with us since we climbed out of the marshes and have only survived because of earlier numerical superiority?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither do I, Belt.” The hotelier added. But money and power are perceived as selection positives, aren’t they?”

“Yes, usually, but individually. Not necessarily as a species’ selection positive.”

“Then we do not know if the at-av-neg phenotype presents an evolutionary plus or not.” The “boss” reasoned. “We may be weakening the species with the release of our proposed construct.”

“I see what you are implying.”

The hotelier asked more. “It appears that money and power confer a general weakness on the species’ genotypes. Do they not?”

“You mean, considering the deleterious effects it has had on Jewish world population pressure. . .”

“Exactly!” The hotelier said. “We must admit that, despite individual Jew’s success, the at-av-neg deletion mutation has had a tremendous negative impact on the Jewish subspecies selection history. These are not well-liked people. I’m not just thinking about the Holocaust, either. How many other races need to have special laws protecting them from the general hatred of their race?”

“So, we may inadvertently be assisting Jewish population pressure.  We will be considered anti-anti-Semites. The KKK and the Arabs will hate us.”

“Arabs are Semites, Belt.”

“That’s true. I forgot.”

The hotelier then asked. “What if the locus is not just one genomic site, definitive in and of itself? What if it represents a gradient of sites, making up a multiple gene effect? We could inadvertently wipe out nearly the entire human race?”

“You were the one that spoke of the need for a vaccine, Dr. Aloirav. And, even if we could not vaccinate everyone, killing all the assholes, large & small, on the planet, concomitantly reducing human population drastically, is that such a bad thing?”

“Certainly not . . . well, not after the initial impact is over. During the great dying we might be at risk somewhat for opportunistic infections. There are more negatives, I’m sure, but you’ve answered most of my reservations and made your point. You will need technicians. How will you find them?”

“I – I . . .”

“I supposed as much. My original reservations still apply. I do not see any need for our continued conversation. You may leave now, Belt. Thank you for your candor and your interest in my work.”

“Please Mr. Aloirav. Before I go, I would like to make one last appeal. I’m convinced this construct is necessary. Rich psychopaths grow more strident by the second. Nuclear war or an ecological collapse looks imminent. It does not appear that you will ever be constructing the great Pontibus bridges. Fascism and greed in the world and the dementia in all the world’s governments threaten, daily, to exterminate all life. How can you be so cavalier with your own existence and that of our also-rans?”

“As I have already said, Belt, my friend. You may leave now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Belt did leave. He was on a Guanabara bus the same day for Fortaleza. There, he obtained a flight to Paris and was soon back in Bordeaux. Belt explained the apparent failure of his mission to his only friend. They both got drunk to celebrate their disappointment.

Rav Aloirav too discussed the matter ever more deeply with his own friend, Elboruh Lebensrau. Both men agreed the idea had real merit. They sent new and better spies to watch and monitor Belt and his friend’s activities. After another month had passed, Belt received a message and a plane ticket from the “boss”. Back in the soundproof room, the hotelier said.

“I’ve spoken to my friend, and he is willing to help me finance the research on the project. We will, however, need some things from you and your friend.”

“What do you need?”

“We need to talk about that. First, I want you to know my reasons for feeling this project may not succeed. I see no problem with the Cas9 – mediated DNA cleavage. An organism’s genome can be cut at almost any desired locus. As you know, with restriction enzymes, we’ve been able to do that for decades. Transporting the Cas9 protein with its appropriate associated guide RNA into a cell is a bit more of a problem, but not much of a problem . . . just work. Knocking down endogenous genes is achieved by transfection. We can manage that part with a plasmid, containing a CRISPR area w/ a spacer to inhibit the target gene. Cas9 is a nuclease protein for gRNA-targeted mutagenesis. It nicks DNA to introduce new gene parts, using paired nicking with in vitro-transcribed Cas9 mRNA. To do most of that from a distance longer than transfection-common intervals . . . not to mention the insertion of an apoptosis sequence . . . we will need a very-difficult-to-construct vector of bacterial or viral ilk. If it can be done, I do not know if I can do it, Belt. My only attempt to build a targeted virus was long, long ago.”

“How did that turn out?”

“Not well. I’m still somewhat embarrassed about the experience.”

“Can you tell me or is it too hard?”

The hotelier thought about it. There was a hiatus in the conversation while he was so occupied. Then he continued.

“I’ll tell you what happened. You need some background though. As I’m sure you’re aware, biological misfits, fags and junkies represent the weakest members of our species –  hardly human. They drag the planet down nearly as much as the religious do. Democracy in theory & practice is 100% contrary to Darwinian evolution, i.e. “majorities – not healthy individuals – rule”. There is no natural culling with democracy – just the opposite. Our population, growing exponentially, appears unstoppable. Aborting healthy children, while protecting biological misfits like fags and junkies, not to mention the handicapped, makes us all selectively at risk. In the 60s, I saw the fag lobby and wealthy drug-users getting extremely powerful. I also knew it would not be long before some Roe vs. Wade situation developed. So, after I got free of Viet Nam in the late 60s, I took a monkey virus that I found on one of my African business trips. I adjusted it to target weaklings. It never measured up to my standards.  I was not satisfied with my testing results in Haiti and refrained from releasing it into the general population. I wanted it to be more transmissible & pathogenic. I became concerned, however, in the early 70s, about Roe vs. Wade sequelae. My preoccupations were valid. As I’m sure you’re aware, the happiest users of the Roe vs. Wade decision are religious-right mothers-to-be. 80 million souls kill our also-ran-wanna-bes with a vengeance. The species was becoming weaker by the minute, even before Roe vs. Wade. Those stupid judges just gave the sirens license to do wholesale slaughter of their innocent.  After 1973, our species was being pounded. Well, I could do nothing about removing either religious hypocrisy or democracy, but I knew I could deploy my crippled virus. So, I released, in many strategic locations, my imperfect construct that targeted hemophiliacs, fags and junkies. As I’m sure you’ve heard, it was only marginally effective.”

“What happened?”

“It met another virus, exchanged some things, got stronger, and acclimatized to the human genome, integrating too quickly. It’s no more pathogenic now than a good genital Herpes virus. Why, even garlic and cinnamon keep it at bay. Although fags and junkies get hit with it hundreds of times more than humans, they can sometimes survive for years before succumbing. All I really accomplished was to pave the way for Bill Gates and BigPharma to make a lot of money. I’m not happy about that. But, if we are successful with this at-av-neg virus, I may be able to undo some of my biological errors of the 70’s.”

“How can we help?”

“You must get us all the biologicals, protocols and software necessary to use CRISPR/Cas9, the editing gene. I will supply the other resources, labs, serum, tissue culture facilities, apoptosis sequences, and technicians.”

“Oh, Mr. Aloirav. That’s wonderful. You will not regret it.”

“I know that. There are two more things I need from you.”

“They are?”

“You and your friend’s daily presence, as my laboratory directors, until we see this through.”

“Okay. And the other thing?”

“Good software is available to design RNA that targets any gene. I still need the gene. I will require a pound of Rothschild flesh. I have a friend who has a Rockefeller and can supply a pound of its flesh for us.”

“An ample supply of wild type at-av-deletion sequence, right?”

“Yes.”

“A pound of Jew flesh?” Belt added, gratuitously, laughing.

The “boss” did not join in the laughter, but he said. “Mr. Sprunkline.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will need to be much more aware of what we are contemplating than old English literature to accomplish this great work. Do not take it lightly.”

“No, sir. I will not, and I will get right on it.”

Belt did indeed get right on it. He convinced his friend that leaving Institute Pasteur was necessary. That wasn’t easy. The fellow was not convinced that building a biological weapon to reduce the numbers of enemies of the human race, (while killing many innocents in the process), was correct action for research scientists to take. He made his objections very clear, one night, when they were intent upon mutually destroying the contents of a Cabernet Franc bottle.

Belt responded to his friend’s reservations, saying. “How can you feel that way when you work for the Pasteur Institute?”

“What are you saying?”

“Oh, come now? Don’t tell me you feel the Institute is just a humanitarian institution.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Boy! Are you ever a babe in the woods?!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Did they not push the propaganda that AIDS is caused by an HIV?”

“There was evidence for that.”

“Yeah, but a lot more evidence that it was just a scam to trap ill-informed victims to be used as cash cows, while selling phony ELISA tests, anti-retrovirals and protease inhibitors. Most HIV positives, perhaps more, live to ripe old ages without any intervention at all.”

“AIDS is caused by sick lifestyles?”

“Of course. Anal intercourse and drugs are the culprits. But that’s not all.”

“What else?”

“Did the Institute not build poison gas for the French military? Did they not deploy their stocks of disease cultures as biological weapons against France’s enemies in WWII?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well, you know they are not at the forefront now in stopping at-av-neg mutants?”

“No, that’s true. But, it brings up another point. How do we know that killing such people will solve the impending extinction of life or at least the demise of humanity?”

“We don’t, but we do know that the at-av-neg mutants are building underground bunkers everywhere to protect themselves for hundreds of years against pandemics, rampant starvation – ecological collapse, and nuclear holocaust. Don’t we?”

“Yes.”

“Why should just they have that survival opportunity?  Because they are very successful murderers, cheats & thieves?!”

“Assholes.”

“Right. We know that at-av-neg genotypes produce phenotypes without a 90kd protein. Lacking that enzyme to degrade the will to ethnocentricism, greed and unlimited aggression makes them rich and powerful. Individual humans cannot compete. These mutants’ super predilections to political aggression, constitutively trying to subjugate the world to personal or tribal will, bulldoze-down general humanity. Every single time an honest man, trying to solve political and economic problems, arises, the Khazars have him shot. You know very well, there is no other way of solving these political menaces’ depredations but through counter violence and blood. Simple revolutions will never solve the problems, because these unfortunate Khazar monsters suborn EVERY POL! NONE escape! “The lash goes on!” Mutants refuse or are incapable, the world over, of behaving as civilized beings. Their lesion is located along the same strand as avarice defense. It produces super-rich assholes, super-assholes. Assholery (camouflage, unbridled aggression, avarice, leveraging EVERYTHING & EVERYONE, ethnocentricism, and unscrupulousness) is a vibrant characteristic of jungle law. These qualities are very successful character attributes. They also cause extremely great desire for money & power accumulation. They almost always result in financial and political success.  Yet, Pasteur Institute does nothing to prevent their re-occurrence!”

“It cannot compete with mutant-produced venality.”

“Of course not. It throws responsibility & guilt upon the shoulders of a 90kd enzyme and walks away.  You now want to continue walking away.”

“You’re right, of course. I’ll quit Pasteur and join you in Brazil.”

“Great! Before you do, we need to catch a super Jew. Dr. Aloirav says he needs a pound of Rothschild flesh. He says Khazar Jews, like Rothschild, have pristine at-av-neg deletion sequences. He’s getting a pound of wild type from a Marranos’, a Rockefeller. Dr. Aloirav said, and I quote. “Since we all have some at-av-neg aspects, I want to produce a vector that only hits the most reeking of the most fetid of the super assholes.”

As it turned out, Belt’s scientist friend knew one of the very wealthy Rothschilds on sight. The Khazar made a visit to the Pasteur Institute once to give or get something that effete rich like to give or get. He made a personal appearance at that event. Belt’s friend said he would remember the details of the man’s physiognomy if once again confronted with it.

Belt and his friend waited nearly a week before the friend recognized the Khazar, when he appeared in Bordeaux.

They followed him to his estate, grabbing him just as he was slowing down the limousine to enter his chateau’s front gate.  Commandeering the limo, they executed its human contents. After all occupants were dead, Belt removed a few pounds of kidney, liver, spleen, lung, testes, and pancreas from the desired corpse.  He put the variegated entrails in a plastic bag and placed the bag in a dry-ice-filled Styrofoam box. Hotel Aloirav soon received a notice that a package awaited pickup in Bordeaux, France.

When the hotel gave the hotelier that message he notified Elboruh Lebensrau. The contents were picked up without any problems and delivered to an Amazonian jungle lab.

One of Genemsco’s trans-genetic jungle labs was commissioned by Rav Aloirav to handle the at-av-neg à apoptosis à vector construction. It was a trying aspiration and took years to accomplish. The “boss” got daily reports from his technicians and research directors as to problems and results.

His directions and advice kept the project on the fast-track. After the virus was field-tested, Belt asked to speak to Rav Aloirav again. The same conditions applied. The “boss’s associates took Belt back to another soundproof room to confer.

“Well, Belt. It’s taken years to build, but we finally have a virus and a vaccine to show for our time and energy. How do you feel about it?”

“It’s what we all wanted. It has proven the original hypothesis to be correct.”

“And what was that original hypothesis to you?”

“That we could use CRISPR/Cas9 and apoptosis genes to build a virus that would rapidly kill at-av-neg mutants.”

“And do you know that for sure?”

“I think you know I do.  And, you also know the answer to that question even better than my partner and I do.”

“I do?”

“Yes.  We needed your associates to help deploy the prototypes in various cities around the world known to have high concentrations of Khazar Jew at-av-neg mutants. I’m not so naïve as to assume you were not involved every step of the way.”

“Yes. You’re right. But what do you, personally, think of the clinical trial’s results?”

“I don’t think you need to feel it was a recapitulation of your 1970 less-than-optimum efforts.”

“I don’t?”

“No. It has proved to be as powerful as we’d hoped.”

“Powerful?”

“Yes. It killed, within a few days, all of our “volunteers”.”

“I see. That measure of effectiveness is your meaning for the word “powerful”?”

“Yes. Do you have another of which we should be aware?”

“Let’s see. “Powerful”, as defined by Rav Aloirav. “The holder’s ability to re-direct human hatred into violent channels all of which focus on the holder’s desired enemy.”

“Actually, Sir, I was thinking about the word’s employment in describing a biological weapon more than as a leader of men.”

“Ahh, Belt. That’s another matter. Power for a disease vector is a more relative thing. In order to make a really excellent bioweapon the artist is involved in a balancing act. He must be better at it than Nik Wallenda is on a rope. He must keep his microbe controllably weak, but not too weak. If he makes it too weak it will fail to produce victims. The artist wants it to be a strong vector, but not too strong. If too strong, it will integrate. Then, it is just another part of the other 80% of the human host’s genome that has no observable (or organism-directed) function.”

“And how do you, personally, see our construct?”

“Well. Let’s recapitulate, shall we?”

“Okay.”

“Using the construct in a small aerosol spray bottle, mixed in distilled water, it took out 4 Rothschilds, some Nobel Committee members, an Oppenheimer and a Schiff. During that period of time it cleaned one small city of its assholes, completely. The productive infections were highly contagious, i.e. easily transmissible to the primary host, somewhere around 75% of those exposed. The effect lessened on the secondary host to about 23%. That is not indicative of an extremely contagious agent. Nevertheless, in my experience, a bug of such a character has more advantages than disadvantages. In a prototype bug, capitulating on the advantages of such are easier than trying to repair the disadvantages of the converse. Why? The disadvantages are remediable by using simple adjustments to deployment practices. If the transmissibility to the primary host was less, we would have had a big and an expensive job, making it more so. The bug is also sufficiently weak to be unable to integrate into the genome with ease.”

“Sounds good.”

“This will sound even better. I measured pathogenicity at 78%. That is a very good vector, and I would say a “powerful” agent. The case/fatality ratio, a measure of virulence, was conditional, as we’d hoped. Minor assholes got sick, but they did not always die . . . case/fatality ratio for them was 23-48%. Major assholes, like the 4 Rothschilds, Nobel Jews, Schiff, Oppenheimer and a Rockefeller (I forgot to mention this one I undertook on my own) had a case/fatality ratio of at least 98%, as all 12 individuals and the small city succumbed nicely.  Highly virulent. All in all, this virus is better than some of the best Ebola-types I built. As you promised, Belt. It is not the disappointment my other narrowly-directed agent was.”

“So. Where do we go from here?”

“That depends on you somewhat.”

“It does?”

“Yes. Have you ever heard of the Burning Fasces Movement?”

“No.”

“Have you ever heard of Elboruh Lebensrau?”

“Of course. All freedom fighters know that name.”

“I have instructed Elbo and some of his associates in the BFM to get in touch with you regarding this virus’s general deployment. I think you will find the association both fulfilling and lucrative. It has been most satisfying working with you, Belt. Good luck to you and may you continue, ridding the planet of tyrants and parasites as long as you live.”

Belt said good-bye, but he never knew if the hotelier heard him or not. Belt and his friend spent many years working with the Burning Fasces Movement. They both married beautiful women and raised many healthy children in Elboruh’s anarchistic communes. Beltover never failed to serve Portulaca oleracea for his family at every evening meal.

The End

 

 

135A

by Larry Lee Slot

My name is Margaret. I was born on August 19, 1987 at Mass General Hospital, in Boston, Massachusetts. I arrived with blond hair and blue eyes which changed, as I grew older, into light brown hair and green eyes. When my mother left the maternity ward, she returned with me to her home on Braintree Avenue in the Rocky Nook section of Kingston, Massachusetts. I went to Silver Lake High School and was graduated later from Boston University.

I went to the BU Medical School and did my residency at Butterworth Hospital in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) hired me soon afterward. The organization sent me to work with the Yanomami in Amazonia. The work was rewarding. I grew to love the Amazon and its wild indigenous people.

I planned to stay there for a long time, but fate intervened.  One day, I left my village to visit a distant village further west. I took (what I thought was) a familiar path through the triple canopy jungle, by myself. After a while, I arrived at a fork that I did not remember. Always before, natives accompanied me.

I just naturally followed them. Now, I did not know which direction to take. I had already walked for nearly an hour and did not wish to retrace my steps. It would mean having to accept the trip’s consequent failure. I took the direction to the right and followed it for another hour.

Big mistake. Jungle vegetation grows very quickly. When you walk in it and are not familiar with all the larger trees and small brooks you pass, it can get confusing. If it is not as familiar as the smile on your mother’s face you can get lost quite easily. I eventually lost my confidence, believing I might have taken the wrong side of the fork.

But, I wasn’t sure. Fate soon set another fork in my way to completely destroy what little equilibrium I still possessed.  Now, I was really indecisive as well as quite lost. It was nearly late afternoon. The rainy season was already upon us.

I knew the rain would soon begin. The villagers told me that very day not to be out in the jungle after dark because there was an old jaguar in the area. Young jaguars are not much trouble, as they usually refrain from attacking adult humans.   Older ones, with fewer teeth, accept increased risk and will attack humans, regardless of the human’s size. Claws tear soft human bellies as well as teeth, broken or missing canines notwithstanding.

I remembered passing a jaguar claw area on the trail a few hundred meters behind me. Yanomamis believe jaguars make those claw marks in anger after they smell humans. I was becoming frightened. I didn’t know whether to go back or continue to risk continued fork options. Not an intrepid adventurer, I began retracing my steps. When I reached the jaguar claw marks on the trail, I encountered yet another fork.

I did not see it before this. When I passed the area, from the opposite direction earlier, vegetation obscured it from my view. Rain clouds now blocked to me the direction of the sun’s diurnal travel, and thus gave no indication of north or south, east or west. I didn’t know where I was. I wanted to cry but knew that if I did I was truly lost.

I held back my tears, wiping would-be traitors from my cheeks. Taking a good breath, I stumbled along the path not knowing where it would lead. The rain started, and the jungle grew dark. It became almost impossible to see the trail.   Then, it did become impossible, and I left the track without knowing when.

Soon, thick secondary jungle crossed my way. Brambles and “chiririka” vines began tearing at my clothes and skin. I lurched along, fighting my way through it. I fell into a small garipe’ (creek) and nearly got bitten by a young jacare’ (alligator). Fortunately, it was more scared of me than I it (or so it appeared).

By now, I was soaking wet. The clothes that remained on my body were chafing my skin terribly, as I walked. I was not fat, but it hurt anyway. I thought about taking them off to continue walking. The “chiririka” vines’ razor sharp leaves made me give up that idea.

My torn clothes still protected me more than would bare skin. I don’t know how much longer I fought through the underbrush, before I stopped. My watch said it was around midnight, when I quit walking. I had no idea where I was, but my struggling was certainly getting me nowhere. Stopping in a small clearing, I took off all my wet clothes.

My abused body was covered with small cuts, leaves, burrs and dirt. The rain was heavy and felt good, washing away all but the cuts and chafing. I was getting cold after my shower, but the cuts and chafing pain subsiding was recompense.  Shivering, I hung my wet clothes on a bush and sat down on a rock, stark naked.  The rain stopped, and I could now sometimes get a glimpse of the night sky.

As the clouds gave way to more clear sky, the moon made furtive appearances. I almost began feeling better, until I heard the jaguar’s cough. It was close, and I must have jumped a foot, but I knew running was not an answer. I couldn’t outdo a wild carnivore in a footrace. So, I began looking around for a stick or a rock to use as my last will and testament.

Nothing was available except vines and small flexible branches. Such items were useless as weapons. I foolishly began thinking that my wet, torn and filthy clothes might protect me from claws. I ran toward them to dress. Before I arrived, I saw in the moonlight the white teeth and red mouth of the spotted cat.

It was at the edge of the clearing about a meter from the bush that held my clothes. I froze in terror, as the animal charged. I’m going to die now, was all I could think. I remember hearing a sound that made me think of wet sheets on a clothes line, flapping in the wind. The next minute I saw the jaguar jumping up, leaping into my face.

Suddenly, hands pressed around my breasts from behind me. As the hands lifted me gently but very rapidly up, the jaguar’s leap left my realm of consciousness. I tried twisting to free my breasts. Two arms roughly pressed my face in between two much larger breasts for my trouble. They reminded me of my mothers, when I was a baby.

How could that be? People can’t remember such events as babies so long ago! Perhaps it was the trauma made me regress involuntarily? As I seemed to be flying through the air, I thought. “This must be what dying is.”

Then I realized that I really was flying through the air. A large warm body with arms, hands and breasts was holding me. I moved my legs around and felt between my toes something that seemed like a huge penis. The thought of a breasted horse, a centaur with breasts, carrying me through the sky came to mind. I was dead. I had to be.

Then, just at that moment, before I could pinch myself, the flight ended abruptly. My rescuer let me fall to the ground. I only fell a few inches, landing unhurt on my stomach. I was on the sandy beach of a bend in a river. I heard the creature say.

“Quedo aquí un poco. Voy a ir a buscar algo de comida.” (“Stay here a bit. I’ll go look for some food.”)

I started to object in Castilian, and the creature said. “Estarás a salvo. No hay jaguares cercano.” (“You will be safe here. There are no jaguars nearby.”)

The voice was sweet and unthreatening. In the early morning moonlight, I could make out that it was a large moth-like creature about 9 or 10 feet tall. It had 2 big 6-foot-wide greenish-blue wings. As I looked closer, I noticed it had full heavy breasts, a large Khazar nose, antennas, pointy bat ears and huge red eyes. A three-part structure, collectively half the size of the creature’s head protruded out from each side, where ears should have been.

I heard those flapping wet sheets again, and it was gone. I don’t know why I no longer thought I was either dead or had lost my mind, but I immediately got to my feet. Looking for something with which to cover my nakedness was a fruitless task. I found nothing at all, before the creature returned. Along with the flapping sound, I knew it was returning because the creature’s body glowed a bright blue from quite a distance away.   As it landed next to me, the glow increased substantially. It then diminished to a low intensity like that of a cellphone screen. A bunch of ripe bananas and avocados fell at my feet, concomitantly.

It said. “Come. Estas frio.” (“Eat. You are cold.”)

Except for medical school Latin, I speak and understand only three languages . . . English, Portuguese and Castilian. English is my preference, of course. So, I didn’t continue to answer the creature in Castilian but, unthinkingly, said. “Thank you. I am very cold.”

“Pardon me.” The creature said. “I assumed you to be Venezuelan or Brazilian. Spanish and Portuguese are the most common languages in this part of the forest. We can continue speaking in English, if you wish. I speak all Earth tongues. If there is another you prefer. . .”

“No. English is fine. Thank you, by the way, for saving me from the jaguar. I thought I was dead when you grabbed me. How did you ever appear so advantageously for me out of nowhere?”

“I was observing you long before you left the path. You were moving in ever-increasing radii of concentric circles. If you could have continued that way for another week you might have eventually regained the path.”

“I thought as much. That’s why I stopped to rest.”

“You picked a bad place to do so. The jaguar uses that very spot, every day, to collect sunshine.”

“Just my luck, having a territorial dispute with a jaguar.”

“He won’t find you here. You are miles away from that part of the jungle.”

“Say. As I’m sure you are aware, I’m stark naked. I don’t feel even the slightest bit comfortable talking to you without my clothes. Can we get them without being eaten in the process?”

The creature did not respond for a few seconds, and then it said. “I’d rather you remained naked. It will be more pleasant for me to observe you without clothes covering your skin.”

“Oh. I’m sure.”

“My creator has a wife like you.”

“Creator?! Are you some kind of Jesus freak?”

“Jesus freak?”

“Yes. Did I just get saved from a wild animal only to be put into the hands of a superstitious whacko?”       “I do not know, but I am familiar with your species. You resemble a Homo sapiens sapiens female. You are called a human woman, are you not?”

“Yes. It’s been bandied about.”

“I have often been curious to observe my creator’s wife naked. She does not allow us that liberty.”

“I can understand that. How is it you happened to be so close, just when I needed you? And, why were you following me?”

“I observe this section of the jungle for my creator’s company. I am Genemsco, Inc.’s sentry 135A. My job is to search out and kill all Homo sapiens-like persons within 35 kilometers of my home.”

“We are not within that radius, I hope?”

“Some. The path, where you left it, is the border of my territory.”

“So, why didn’t you just kill me or let the jaguar do it?”

“My creator will undoubtedly ask me the same question, if I report of you.  I cannot say for sure what I shall say.”

“If you need any help deciding, let me be the first to suggest that you do NOT tell him.”

“I think you are right. You have elicited some strange but pleasant feelings in my nether region. These sentiments are not unlike the feelings I get when I see my creator’s wife. Observing her on the veranda at the laboratory, while she takes sunshine into her skin, gives me similar but somewhat weaker emotions.”  “I see.”

“I believe it is because of these feelings that I removed you from the jaguar’s foraging territory.”

“Isn’t that nice now.”

“Yes. I noticed a surge of these feelings again when your feet touched my penis, as I was removing you from the selection-risk site with the jaguar. My penis became larger and harder in a way I have noticed infrequently before. It was not unpleasant, and I should like to repeat the experience. Would you be so kind as to touch it again?”

“I will not! What do you take me for?”

“Don’t you remember? I have told you that I recognize you as a Homo sapiens sapiens female, wild type. Did you not hear me?”

“Yes, I did. If that is so, then you must know that we Homo sapiens sapiens females, wild type, do not do such things until we are very good friends with the penis-bearer. I barely know you. If you were to get me my clothes you would probably be relieved of these, these nether feelings which you are observing.”

“I do not think that would solve the problem. It would but make my observations more difficult.”

“That is the objective.”

“I do not understand. I have been searching my data bases and files, Google-ing my internet access and nothing appears to assist me in this area. I fear that if I should continue these efforts my tungsten cortical probes may heat up. My creator cautioned me against such behavior.”

“Who is this “creator” of whom you speak?”

“The others call him Michael. Like me, he works for Genemsco, Inc.’s laboratory here in the jungle.”

“Why do you call him your “creator” and not your father?”

“He is not my father. I have no father, just a mother.”

“Who is your mother?”

“My mother was an Equus ferus caballus mare. She has since become fertilizer.” 135A replied quietly, and his skin’s blue light grew very bright.

“Do you know that your skin is glowing very brightly?”

“Yes, I know. It’s the bioluminescence. I can control it, except when I am embarrassed. It must be a selection-negative or conditioned-response. Being non-selective, my creator must alter it in the next model, or perhaps not use Renilla reniformis next time.”

“Perhaps not.”

“Please eat. You need to get glucose to your peripheral cells in order to become warmer. Initially you will feel cooler, but long term you will get warmer.”

“I am a medical doctor. You need not explain physiology to me.”

“I am sorry if I have offended you. I did not wish to do that. My internet access does not allow me to enter your mind as it does a trans-human’s digital-cerebral interface without optional protection circuitry.”  “How does it do that?”

“It isn’t difficult. My trans-genetic control nano-processor uses an Intel Gentium-DNA -protoplasm interface chip. It does much more than just integrate the cellular networks of the 10 species of which I am formed. I have access to cyber-information and processing facilities that the most sophisticated military laboratories do not yet have. My GPS location-capability distance-failure rate is less than 1 millimeter. I can focus on a very small volume of trans-human brain structure to read its radio frequency vibrations. Michael is not just a molecular biologist, but he is also a computer science cognoscente. If I knew what frequency your brain would use to super-heterodyne, I could read your thoughts too. Unfortunately, that divination capacity has been denied me.”

“Shame. And we were doing so well too.”

“Yes, that is true.”

“And so the crumble cookies.”

“I do not understand.”

“T’s okay. It was a throw-away.”

“I do not understand that either. Do you suppose we should use another language?”

“No. I was just speaking nonsense.”

“I see. I’ve noticed that you enjoy doing such things. Perhaps, if it will make you happy, when I return, we can speak much nonsense together.”

“Yes. That would be nice.”

“But, I must go now. It is nearly time for me to return to the laboratory base and give my report.”

“Are you going to mention our meeting?”

“That is not possible, human female. I must avoid giving Michael that information. Should I do that, he would demand that you die. I do not wish that.”

“Nor I. A step in the right direction.”

“Yes. I hope so. Fortunately, altering to distort a human’s perception of reality is unbelievably simple. Homo sapiens are such simpletons! They give a lie to their name “sapiens”. But I need not tell you that. You are already aware of your limitations, being a Homo sapiens sapiens yourself.”

“Yes. I sure am. A wild type. But it was so nice of you to make that clear.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“I’m sure.”

In less than a second the creature was gone. All that remained were the horse hoof footprints and tons of questions in my mind. I gave up trying to decide if I was certifiable. I saw no point in self-flagellation. What puzzled me was how such a sophisticated creature could be here in triple canopy jungle miles and miles from its equal in civilization?

Why would he say he was a sentry? The creature was thousands of times more intelligent, aware and capable than anything humanity could boast. Sentries are foot soldiers, not generals! The creature was too extraordinary and sophisticated to be pulling my leg. It was an enigma.

135A’s wingspan was 12 feet, at least. Was it some kind of super-moth or a giant bat? It could not be an insect, at least not entirely. The brick-red eyes were compound, like fruit-fly eyes, and the antennae were like those of an insect or a snail. But, there were way too many mammalian characteristics.

My thoughts scattered and many questions came to me. “Whatever am I dealing with here? How can I get away? Those breasts and that enormous penis! What sex is it? Obviously, it has male characteristics and feelings. What if it tries to rape me? That penis is larger than my arm, elbow to finger-tips!”

With time, I found some strength to calm down and look at the situation reasonably. There was no denying the creature’s uniqueness. If a laboratory, productive of manufacturing such creatures, truly existed; it would be working with human-trans-genetic organisms illegally. It would have to be well-hidden. The molecular biology involved, I believed, would be prohibited under NIH Guidelines.

Even if functioning via the highest levels of political venality, the lab would probably still need to be clandestine. Experimental failures would be extremely criminal to handle. Quasi-human creatures would need to be euthanized, and the bodies removed, surreptitiously. Deep within triple-canopy jungle a clandestine lab could be kept concealed. Security patrols would be necessary, of course, as well as satellite detection corruption techniques.

The lab would not want to be surprised in flagrante delicto. How better to achieve anonymity than by using a digitally-enhanced super-sentry? What if 135A was not alone? If 135A had companions or co-working sentries I could be at risk no matter what 135A does to help me. Suppose the company read 135As memory banks?

I pondered all these things, as I ate a few bananas and an avocado.   When I finished eating, I began looking around again for leaves or some other material to cover my nakedness. I did not see how exciting the creature with my body’s total exposure could help me in any way whatsoever. That penis would kill me as surely as being impaled on a sword. It would reach to my stomach.

I would hemorrhage within the first few thrusts.   Some large leaves appeared with which to cover my private parts. However, I could find no cord or thread to get them to adhere. As the creature also had breasts, I did not think that covering mine up was as important as covering my other sexual attractions. I wrapped the leaves around my hips and began to hold them somewhat secure with some split vines.

As I was finishing “dressing”, 135A returned.   My work was immediately noticed and disapproved of. The fashion critic, 135A, disposed of my new duds with little more than a wave of its hand. I was, once again, returned to my birthday suit.

A few minutes later, 135A dived into the river and remained submerged for at least a half hour. I can only assume that those 6 gill-like structures below its ears, on either side of its head, enabled such a feat.   I remembered gills like 135A sported from my comparative vertebrate anatomy course. They were similar to the gill-structures of Necturus maculosus maculosus, the mud puppy.

When 135A returned to the riverbank and me there were a number of fish on a water vine hanging from its hand. Throwing the fish at my feet, it told me to eat as many of them as I wished.  I said that I did not like eating raw meat, and the creature seemed perplexed.   While the sun was shining, I could not complain of the cold.

When the rain came, however, I forced a bit of a shiver, asking again for clothes to keep me warm. I must have aroused its sympathy, because it left immediately. When 135A returned, it was with a wood stove, some matches and a hammock blanket. I immediately wrapped myself in the blanket and went into the jungle to find wood for a fire.   I cleaned the fish with a stone, a stick and my index finger.

It took me quite a while to get a fire going with wet wood, but in time I managed it. The roasted unseasoned fish was not very tasty, but it was better to me than the raw state or just fruit. As I ate, I watched 135A nibbling on some leaves and a small raw fish. Later, I noticed the creature picking up one of the avocados I left on the ground. Its long, delicate, artist-like hands deftly peeled and ate pieces of the fruit.

It occurred to me then how little it appeared to eat, and I asked. “How is it, with such a large body, you eat so very little? Flight and bioluminescence must require a great deal of glucose and ATP?”

135A replied. “Nearly all my glucose needs are met via the photosynthetic kleptoplasts in my wing skin, courtesy of the sea slug, nudibranch, Elysia chlorotica cells. I am also xylophagous via the cellulase produced by Teredinibacter turnerae cells in my second stomach. I utilize all of the vegetation I eat, not just the sugars and secondary metabolites but minerals, chloroplasts and long chain cellulose polymers too. Except for my occasional need for integrated-computer maintenance, I am quite self-sufficient.”

“You must have cost a great deal to construct?”

“I would imagine so. The price tag for 130s on the black market is $20 million.”

“That’s a lot of money. Why on the black market?”

“Trans-humans are prohibited.”

“Are you really worth that much or is it just the novelty?”

“I think I’m worth it. I do not believe Genemsco, Inc. will sell me.  I am too valuable to them as a sentry. There are only 4 of us 130 models to guard all entrances and exits to and from 4 labs and humeal processing facilities, plus 2000 square miles of obfuscating jungle. Of course, the company could build more of us, but they are more interested in building trans-humans that look human-like and fetch a better price. A trans-human that appears like you do is worth 200 million on the black market. Those without visible computer attachments are worth even more.”

“Who pays such sums?”

“Very wealthy bankers, politicians and other at-av-neg mutants that wish to pass on their DNA to the next generation in greater quantities than at-av-positive humans can do.”

“At-av-neg mutants?”

“Yes. Super-savage subhumans that have much more money and power than their human counterparts. Some of the 130 models are intentionally built with that mutation in their genotypes.”

“Why is that?”

“Selection characteristics. When they were creating us, initially, some of the species they used made our full trans-genetic composition assimilation refractory to survival. It required a great deal of research resources and humeal facility time.”

“Humeal?”

“Comminuted or digested and desiccated human flesh.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Someone complained about the expense and someone else, Michael I think, suggested that perhaps the inchoate organism was lacking in viability due to a deficiency of constitutive survival genes.”

“His suggestion was noted. The company president and largest shareholder, Dr. Aloirav, made one of his infrequent visits. Later, all the scientists said that perhaps, known jungle-law-characteristics, repetitive-sequence-genes, needed to be added. At-av-neg mutant DNA was the only place all the scientists knew for sure that these vicious traits existed. Three days later subhuman flesh, variously labeled Rothschild, Schiff, Rockefeller, etc., appeared in the lab.

Scientists experimented with the at-av-neg mutant DNAs. Due to the extreme savagery of the subhuman organisms, the latter experiments were successful. The lab continued to use such organisms as DNA sources for the trans-human survival spirit. It also helped in marketing the product to the at-av-neg mutant buyers.”

“I’m sure. So, you are an at-av-neg mutant?”

“Actually, no. I was created, using Rothschild DNA, but Michael removed all the at-av-neg loci in me with CRISPR/Cas9. He replaced my at-av-neg loci with the at-av-positive wild type and other survival genes that were not so foreign-species-destructive. For what it is worth, I am more human than my brother 130s.”

“I see.”

“I’m not sure, human woman, but I do not believe my brother 130s would have allowed you to live if they found you within the perimeter as did I. They are not as nice as I am.”

“You may call me Margaret.”

“You do not wish to be called “human woman”?”

“No. It’s attractive, of course, but I prefer Margaret. As I’m sure you would rather I called you 135A than “trans-human creature”?”

“Yes. You are correct. I prefer you to reference me as 135A.”

“Will I ever be able to return to my home, 135A?”

“I do not see how, as yet, that that would be possible.  If you leave, in time, word will get out that you were here. Word has leaked out about the labs many times in the past. Sometimes, the more human-appearing trans-genetics talk too much and that jeopardizes the labs survival. Genemsco, Inc. cannot, will not, allow that. Many people have had to die to keep Genemsco, Inc. safely clandestine. If they discover that I have been betraying them, they will not hesitate to kill you and me.”

“If they will not hesitate to sacrifice a $20 million model, like you, I can imagine how long they will hesitate to off me.”

135A said nothing, and I asked why it was risking so much for me. 135A replied that it did not know. 135A said that it searched Google for an answer to that very question. It went as far as it dared into the deep web to discover why it would do something so foolish. 135A said it came away disappointed.   Something seemed to change our relationship at that point, and a different atmosphere enveloped us. I found it difficult to see the association any longer as only that of an alien creature and a human. I asked HIM what it was HE felt when HE first saw me.   

He said. “I felt intense discomfort, but I can’t explain why.” 

I didn’t know really how that made me feel. I was just as nonplussed about it as was he. Even with the discomfort, or perhaps because of it, strangely, he could not remove the attraction to me from his mind. I asked him if he decided to save me only after seeing me naked. He said no, that he had been watching me for months before I crossed the perimeter.   So, I was being stalked!

For months! Imagine how that would play back in feminist USA? I never saw him. I could not imagine how a being, as large as he, could observe me for months without me knowing it. 

I voiced my disbelief, and he replied. “It’s because my iridiphore control is so rapid & precise. My antennae’s organization with the 720 degree Drosophila vision is also quite well-integrated with the nano-processor. I could be very near, notice everything, and you would never see me.”   

I did not believe him. He did not understand my incredulity. 135A explained how his Bradypodion pumilum cells, interfaced with the Intel Gentium nano-processor, interfaced with his human protoplasm, handled all his camouflage needs in fractions of seconds. He only needed to feel slight danger pressure and the nano-processor took control. Once, he said, he had been near a path that I was using with some of the Yanomami.   

He said we walked within a few centimeters of him and never perceived his presence. I asked him for a demonstration, and he generously complied. He told me to go into the jungle a ways. When I felt sure he was not near me I was to do something. He would tell me later what it was that I did.   

I did as he suggested and walked about 3 kilometers into the jungle. I looked all around me, seeing nothing but vegetation. Then, I squatted to pee. Afterwards, I made 3 pirouettes and returned to the river. He arrived immediately afterward and told me exactly what I did.   

Indeed, I never saw him or even sensed his presence. My penultimate question for him that evening was about how his wings came to be. He said they were expressed from multiple tandem repeats of large fruit bat Acerodon jubatus DNA. It was genetically engineered to combine with his human DNA. He said his echolocation capacity, (the pointy ears above his Drosophila melanogaster fly eyes), came from another bat Myotis lucifugus.   

I asked him why he had breasts and a vulva as well as a penis and testicles. He said his hermaphroditism was necessary because his reproductive system was parthenogenic as well as heterosexual and dimorphic. He was, however, very young and a virgin in all three aspects. It was not late in the day, but I was becoming uncomfortable talking about his sexual attributes. I also longed to sleep.   

It began raining. He raised his great wings. The hammock blanket, I’d wrapped around me, stopped getting wet. I lay down and went to sleep. Not having slept the entire night of the rescue, I did not awaken until the next day. 

In the early morning hours, I awoke to find his large chartreus-colored bat-wing covering the blanket and I. I don’t know why, but I found it comforting. I no longer feared him or his superhuman capabilities. Over the next few months, he continued to bring me things that made my life more comfortable. I could not find it within myself to condemn him for not letting me escape.   

I do not think it was a case of a prisoner identifying with a captor. Escape meant we would share a similar fate, our mutual death. He truly tried to do for me all he could and wreak no harm, even though I was no longer a free person. The jungle was nearly impenetrable there, yet I did not feel imprisoned. Something entered those environs that smelled to me of freedom. 

Our life together became almost routine in time. He would make his sentry rounds, report, and return to me. He told me things he saw in his computer mind. I was kept up-to-date on all the news and even other things, like developments in the Genemsco, Inc. labs. He would bring me synopses of trans-genetic discoveries and explain to me the arcane biochemistry and biophysics involved.   

I grew to know some of his co-workers just from his descriptions. I told him about the United States and my life as a general practitioner. Sharing things like these kept us from ever finding our life together becoming boring. Every morning I awoke with his right wing covering me, keeping me warm. It was reassuring, and I was becoming almost accustomed to my new life.   

Then, one day, our life together changed again. It happened like this. I will never forget it. He returned from one of the labs and said he had been doing some search engine work on human interpersonal relations. He said he came across the word “love” and couldn’t understand the various definitions regarding it.   

It made him question his trans-human life even more. He was besieged, I knew. 135A was in the throes of defining himself without any role models, history or contemporary-value-based morality. It made his discomfort near me to grow greater. He had access to all the information in the world and was yet struggling with basic meaning.

How human!   He asked me if I would define the word “love” for him. I did the best I could, but it was far from being done well. It is not a subject with which I had had much experience. I was not a virgin, but that did not make me anymore able to describe the word than would an ignorant naïve girl.

He listened to what I said and was very quiet afterward.   I did not speculate on what he was thinking. During the night, I cringed when I heard him ask how long was the customary period before a human female could safely touch a male friend’s penis. I laid there for quite some time, unable to sleep. My head was spinning.

I knew it was a Rubicon, but I felt no guilt as I took his penis in my hand, only shame that I had not done so earlier.  Our lives now took on a strange new sensibility. We were in love, if love can be said to exist outside romance novels. I wanted his affection. I wanted him near me.

I could not but know he wanted the same from me.   We still had not had sex. I was afraid. His penis was so large. I feared, in the heat of the moment, he might accidentally kill me.

One night I could stand it no longer.   I wanted him inside me so very badly. I was ready to die if it meant that. I asked him if he would like to copulate with me. He said he would but was hesitant.

He was not unaware of the physical discrepancies in our bodies and my lack of a sufficiently accommodating structure.   He was very afraid he would hurt me. I told him that it concerned me also. I said if he could refrain from inserting the entire length of his penis, we might still experience successful coitus. He said he would do as I directed.

I said I would hold his penis at about half mast.  He should stop thrusting when he felt my hand touching my vulva. We tried it, and it worked. I could not experience his softball-sized testicles striking my inner thighs, but the experience was quite satisfying nonetheless. In my zeal, protecting my cervix and uterus from being brutally impaled, I entirely forgot about the dangers welling within his huge testicles.

One night, as we were making love, I lost it, completely.   In my disconcerted state, I failed to remove his penis from my vagina, when I felt the seminal contractions begin. His penis exploded in turmoil of orgasm . . . inside me. I felt the hot liquid fill my vagina. It was like a small volcano.

My mind exploded in direct proportion to his overwhelming ejaculate.   There was no way I could wash 100 plus milliliters of semen from my vaginal walls! It might already have entered my cervix! What was I to do? How much humanity was within him?

Would the difference in our several species reject fertilization?   “Woulds” came at me like rounds from a machine gun.  He was wrestling daily with where his human condition began and ended. Now it was my turn. What if I became pregnant by this mountain of a trans-human?! 

How could I hold on to a fetus for the entire gestation?   I could not. How could I deliver a baby the size of a small horse? I could not. What could I do without help, without a hospital?

I would need a uterus and vagina the combined size of a large watermelon to navigate through such a fate.   What would become of me?  The next morning, when I awakened, I vomited. I knew then, my egg had not rejected the trans-human sperm.   

I was pregnant with 135A’s baby.

 

135A

 

(The following Portuguese translation is not completely correct or verbatim. The original English has been edited since I made the attempt at a translation. Time pressure and Amazonian internet access problems have precluded a second translation. The story is no different than a few words and some punctuation.)
Meu nome é Margaret. Nasci no dia 19 de agosto de 1987 no Massachusetts General Hospital, em Boston, Massachusetts. Cheguei com cabelos loiros e olhos azuis que mudou, como eu cresci, em cabelo castanho claro e olhos verdes. Quando minha mãe saiu da maternidade, ela voltou comigo para sua casa em Braintree Avenue na seção Rocky Nook de Kingston, Massachusetts. Eu fui a Silver Lake High School e formou-se mais tarde na Universidade de Boston.
Eu fui para a Faculdade de Medicina da BU e fiz a minha residência em Butterworth Hospital em Grand Rapids, Michigan. Médicos Sem Fronteiras (MSF) me contrataram logo depois. A organização enviou-me para trabalhar com os Yanomami na Amazônia. O trabalho foi gratificante. Aprendi a amar o Amazonas e seus selvagens indígenas.
Eu pretendia ficar lá por um longo tempo, mas o destino interveio. Um dia, eu deixei minha aldeia para visitar uma aldeia distante mais a oeste. Eu escolhei (o que eu achava que era) um caminho familiar através da selva dossel triplo sozinho. Depois de um tempo, cheguei a uma bifurcação que eu não me lembro. Sempre antes, os nativos me acompanhado.
Eu apenas naturalmente os segui. Eu não sei agora qual direção tomar. Eu já tinha andado por quase uma hora e não quis refazer meus passos. Isso significaria ter de aceitar consequente fracasso da viagem. Eu tomei a direcção para a direita e seguiu-o por mais uma hora.

Grande erro. Vegetação da selva cresce muito rapidamente. Quando você anda nele e não estão familiarizados com todas as árvores maiores e pequenos riachos que você passa, ele pode ficar confuso. Se não é tão familiar quanto o sorriso no rosto de sua mãe que você pode se perder facilmente. Eu finalmente perdi minha confiança, acreditando que eu poderia ter tomado o lado errado do garfo. Mas, eu não tinha certeza. O destino definido em breve outra bifurcação na minha maneira de destruir completamente o pouco de equilíbrio Eu ainda possuía. Agora, eu fiquei muito indecisa, bem como bastante perdida. Era quase o final da tarde. A estação das chuvas já estava em cima de nós. Eu sabia que a chuva logo começaria. Os moradores me disseram que mesmo dia para não ser na selva depois de escurecer porque houve um jaguar velho na área. Agora, as jovens onças não são muito problema, pois geralmente não atacar seres humanos adultos. Os mais velhos, com menos dentes, aceitar o aumento do risco e atacam os seres humanos, independentemente do tamanho do ser humano. Claws matar barrigas humanas suaves, bem como os dentes caninos, quebradas ou faltando, não obstante. Lembrei-me de passar uma área de garra jaguar na trilha algumas centenas de metros atrás de mim. Eu estava ficando com medo. Eu não sabia se devia voltar ou continuar a arriscar opções garfo continuou. Não é uma intrépida aventureira, comecei refazer meus passos. Quando cheguei as marcas de garras de onça na trilha, eu encontrei outra bifurcação.

Eu não vi isso antes. Quando passei a área, na direção oposta antes, vegetação obscurecida-lo do meu ponto de vista. Nuvens de chuva obscurecidas a direção de diurna de viagem do sol, e isso me deram nenhuma indicação de norte ou sul, leste ou oeste. Eu não sabia onde eu estava. Eu queria chorar, mas sabia que se eu fiz eu estava realmente perdido.
Eu segurei minhas lágrimas, enxugando supostos traidores de minhas bochechas. Tomar um bom fôlego, eu tropecei ao longo do caminho sem saber para onde levaria. A chuva começou, ea selva escureceu. Tornou-se quase impossível ver a trilha. Em seguida, ele se tornou impossível, e eu saí da pista sem saber isso.
Logo, selva secundária cruzou meu caminho, e as silvas e “chiririka” vinha começou a rasgar a minha roupa e pele. I balançou junto, lutando por meu caminho através dela. Eu caí em uma pequena garipe e quase foi mordido por um jovem jacare’. Felizmente, foi mais medo de mim do que eu (ou assim parecia).
Até agora, eu estava encharcada. As roupas que permaneceram no meu corpo foram escoriações minha pele terrivelmente, enquanto eu caminhava. Eu não era gordo, mas dói de qualquer maneira. Eu pensei em tirá-los para continuar andando. Os “chiririka” vinham de barbear folhas afiadas me fez desistir da idéia.

Minhas roupas rasgadas ainda me protegeu mais do que pele nua. Eu não sei quanto tempo mais eu lutei pelo mato, antes de parar. Meu relógio disse que era em torno de meia-noite, quando eu parei de andar. Eu não tinha idéia de onde eu estava, mas o meu lutando foi certamente me chegar a lugar algum. Parando em uma pequena clareira, tirei todas as minhas roupas molhadas.
A chuva me sentiu bem no meu corpo terrivelmente abusado. Eu estava coberto com cortos, folhas pequenas, rebarbas e sujeira, ea chuva lavou tudo fora falta os cortos. Eu estava ficando com frio depois do meu chuveiro, mas a dor diminuiu o atrito em recompensa. Tremendo, eu desliguei minhas roupas molhadas em um arbusto e sentou-se em uma rocha, completamente nu. A chuva parou, e eu podia ver o céu noturno.
Como as nuvens que, por vezes, dão lugar a cancelar o céu, a lua fez uma aparição furtiva. Eu quase comecei a se sentir melhor, até que ouvi a tosse da onça. Eu sabia que não estava em execução uma resposta, mas devo ter saltado um pé. Eu não poderia superar um carnívoro selvagem em uma corrida a pé. Então, comecei a procurar por um pedaço de pau ou uma pedra para usar como minha última vontade e testamento.
Nada foi disponível, exceto videiras e pequenos ramos flexíveis. Esses itens foram inúteis como armas. I estupidamente começou a pensar que os minhas molhadas, roupas rasgadas e sujas pode me proteger de garras. Corri em direção a eles para se vestir. Antes de eu cheguei, eu vi na luz do luar o branco dos dentes e boca vermelha do gato manchado.

Foi na beira da clareira cerca de um metro do mato que segurava minhas roupas. Eu congelei no terror, como o animal cobrado. Eu vou morrer agora, era tudo que eu conseguia pensar. No minuto seguinte, eu vi o jaguar pulando no meu rosto. Eu me lembro de ouvir um som que me fez pensar em lençóis molhados em uma linha de roupas, balançando ao vento.
De repente, mãos apertadas em torno de meus seios por trás de mim. À medida que as mãos me levantaram delicadamente, mas muito rapidamente para cima, salto da onça deixou meu reino da consciência. Eu tentei torcer para libertar meus seios. Dois braços de aproximadamente pressionei meu rosto entre dois seios muito maiores para o meu problema. Eles me fizeram lembrar-se da minha mãe, quando eu era um bebê.
Como pode ser isso? Os bebês não podem se lembrar de tais eventos há muito tempo! Talvez tenha sido o trauma me fez regredir involuntariamente? Como eu parecia estar voando pelo ar, pensei. “Este deve ser o que é morrer.”
Então eu percebi que eu realmente estava voando pelo ar. Um grande corpo quente com braços, mãos e peitos estava me segurando. Eu me mudei minhas pernas em volta e sentiu entre os meus dedos algo que parecia um pênis. O pensamento de um cavalo peito, um centauro com seios, me levando através do céu veio à mente. Eu estava morto. Eu tinha que ser.

Então, naquele momento, antes que eu pudesse me belisco, o voo terminou abruptamente. Meu salvador me deixe cair ao chão. Eu só caiu a poucos centímetros, aterrando ileso no meu estômago. Eu estava na praia de areia de uma curva em um rio. Ouvi dizer que a criatura.
“Quedo aquí un poco. Voy a ir a buscar algo de comida.” (“Fique aqui um pouco. Vou procurar alguma comida.”)
I começou a se opor em castelhano, ea criatura disse. “Estaras uma salva. Sem cercano Jaguares de feno.” (“Você estará seguro aqui. Não há onças nas proximidades.”)
A voz era doce e não ameaçador. À luz da lua de manhã cedo, eu poderia fazer que era uma grande criatura traça-like cerca de nove ou 10 pe’s de altura. Ele tinha dois grandes largas asas azul-esverdeado seis pés. Quando olhei mais perto, percebi que tinha seios fartos pesados, um nariz grande Khazar, antenas, orelhas de morcego pontudo e enormes olhos vermelhos. Uma estrutura de três partes, em conjunto com metade do tamanho da cabeça da criatura sobressaía para fora a partir de cada lado, que a orelha deve ter sido.
Ouvi aquelas folhas batendo de novo, e ele se foi. Eu imediatamente para os meus pés e começou a procurar algo para cobrir a minha nudez. Eu não sei por que eu não pensei que eu estava morto ou tinha perdido minha mente. Eu encontrei nada com que me cobrir, antes que a criatura voltou. Junto com o som batendo, eu sabia que estava voltando porque o corpo da criatura estava brilhando um azul brilhante de uma distância razoável.

Como ele pousou perto de mim, o brilho aumentou substancialmente. Em seguida, ele diminuiu a baixa intensidade de uma tela do celular. Um cacho de bananas maduras e abacates caíram aos meus pés, como fez assim. Ele disse. “Vem. Estas frias.” (“Coma. Está frio.”) Exceto para a minha escola médica Latina, I falar e compreender apenas três línguas. . . Inglês, Português e Castelhano. Inglês é a minha preferência, é claro. Então, eu não continuar a responder a criatura com o castelhano, mas, sem pensar, disse. “Obrigado. Estou muito frio. ” “Desculpe-me.”, disse a criatura. “Nessa área, eu assumi que você seja Venezuelano ou Português. Eles são as línguas mais comuns nesta parte da floresta. Podemos continuar falando em Inglês, se você desejar. Falo todas as línguas da Terra. Se houver outro de sua preferência.”  “Nao. Inglês é bom. Obrigado, por sinal, por me salvar do jaguar. Eu pensei que eu estava morto quando você me pegou. Como é que você nunca parece tão vantajoso para mim do nada? ”  ” Eu estava observando você por muito tempo antes de sair do caminho. Você estava se movendo em cada vez maiores raios de círculos concêntricos. Se você poderia ter continuado assim por mais uma semana você pode ter, eventualmente, recuperou o caminho. ”  ” Foi o que pensei. É por isso que eu parei para descansar. “”Você pegou um mau lugar para descansar. A onça usa esse mesmo lugar, todos os dias, para coletar a luz do sol”.
“Que sorte a minha, que têm uma disputa territorial com um jaguar.”
“Ele não vai encontrá-lo aqui. Você está milhas de distância do que parte da selva. ”
“Say. Como eu tenho certeza que você está ciente, eu sou completamente nu. Eu não me sinto até um pouco menor vontade para falar com você sem minhas roupas. Podemos levá-los sem ser comido no processo? ”
A criatura não respondeu por alguns segundos e, em seguida, ele disse. “Eu prefiro que você permaneça nu. Vai ser mais agradável para eu observar que você sem eles cobrindo sua pele. ”
“Oh. Tenho certeza. ”
“Meu criador tem uma mulher como você.”
“Criador ?! Você é uma espécie de Jesuis aberração? ”
“Aberraçao Jesuis?”
“Sim. Acabei de ser salvo de um animal selvagem somente para ser colocado nas mãos de uma whacko supersticioso? ”
“Eu não sei, mas eu estou familiarizado com a sua espécie. Você é um Homo sapiens sapiens feminino. Você é chamado uma mulher humana, não é? ”
“Sim. Tem sido cogitado. ”
“Eu muitas vezes tenho sido curioso observar a mulher do meu criador nu. Ela não permite que a liberdade. ”
“Eu posso entender isso. Como é que você passou a ser tão perto, quando eu precisei de você? E, por que você está me seguindo? ”
“Eu observo esta seção da selva para a empresa do meu criador. Estou Genemsco, sentinela 135A Inc. Meu trabalho é procurar e matar todas as pessoas Homo sapiens-como a 35 quilômetros da minha casa. ”
“Nós não estamos dentro desse raio, eu espero?”

“Tão Eu. O caminho, onde você deixou, é a fronteira do meu território.” “Então, por que você não me mata ou deixar que o jaguar fazê-lo? “” Meu Criador, sem dúvida, pergunte-me a mesma pergunta, se eu relato de você. Eu não posso dizer com certeza o que eu vou dizer.” “Se você precisar de alguma ajuda para decidir, deixe-me ser o primeiro a sugerir que você não diga a ele.” “Eu acho que você está certo. Você contou com algumas sensações estranhas, mas agradáveis ​​na minha região inferior. Esses sentimentos não são diferentes dos sentimentos que recebo quando eu vejo a mulher do meu criador. Observando-la na varanda no laboratório, enquanto ela toma sol em sua pele, me dá emoções semelhantes, mas um pouco mais fracos.” “Eu vejo.” “Eu acredito que é por causa destes sentimentos que eu removidos você a partir do território de forrageamento da onça.” “Isso não é bom agora.” “Sim. Notei também uma onda de esses sentimentos quando seus pés tocaram o meu pênis, como eu estava removendo-o do local de risco seleção com o jaguar. Meu pênis tornou-se maior e mais difícil de uma maneira que tenho notado raramente antes. Não era desagradável, e eu gostaria de repetir a experiência. Você seria tão amável de tocá-la de novo?” “Eu não vou! O que você me toma?” “Você não se lembra? Eu lhe disse que eu reconhecê-lo como um Homo sapiens sapiens do sexo feminino, de tipo selvagem. Será que você não me ouvir?”

“Sim eu fiz. Se é assim, então você deve saber que nós Homo sapiens sapiens fêmeas, tipo selvagem, não faço essas coisas até que nós somos muito bons amigos com o pênis-portador. Eu mal conheço. Se você fosse para me as minhas roupas que você provavelmente seria aliviado destes, esses sentimentos que você está observando.” “Eu não acho que iria resolver o problema. Seria, mas fazer as minhas observações mais difícil.” “Esse é o objetivo.” “Eu não entendo. Fui pesquisar minhas bases de dados e arquivos, o Google-ing meu acesso à internet e não aparece nada para me ajudar nesta área. Eu temo que se eu deveria continuar meus esforços minha sonda cortical tungstênio pode esquentar. Meu criador me advertiu contra esse tipo de comportamento.” “Quem é este “criador” de quem você fala?” “Os outros o chamam de Michael. Como eu, ele trabalha para laboratório Genesco, Inc. aqui na selva.”  ” Por que você chamá-lo de seu “criador” e não o seu pai? ” “Ele não é meu pai. Eu não tenho pai, apenas uma mãe. ” ” Quem é sua mãe? ”  ” Minha mãe era uma ferus Equus caballus egua. Ela se tornou fertilizante. “135A respondeu calmamente, e azul claro de sua pele ficou muito brilhante. “Você sabe que a sua pele está brilhando muito brilhantemente?” “Sim, eu sei. É a bioluminescência. Eu posso controlá-lo, a não ser quando estou envergonhado. Deve ser uma seleção-negativos ou-resposta condicionada. Sendo não-seletivo, meu criador deve alterá-lo no próximo modelo, ou talvez não usar Renilla reniformis próximo vez.”

“Talvez não.”
“Por favor, comer. Você precisa obter a glicose para as células periféricas, a fim de se tornar mais quente. Inicialmente, você vai se sentir mais frio, mas em longo prazo você vai se sentir mais quente. ”
“Eu sou um médico. Você não precisa explicar a fisiologia para mim. ”
“Eu sinto muito, se eu ofendi você. Eu não queria fazer isso. Meu acesso à internet não me permite a entrar na sua mente como faz interface digital-cerebral de um trans-humano, sem circuitos de proteção. ”
“Como ele faz isso?”
“Não é difícil. Meu nanoprocessor controle trans-genética usa um Gentium-ADN Intel -protoplasm chip de interface. Ele faz muito mais do que apenas integrar as redes de telefonia celular das 10 espécies das quais eu fui formado. Eu tenho acesso a ciber-informação e instalações de processamento que os laboratórios militares mais sofisticadas ainda não possuem. Meu GPS location-capacidade da taxa de distância de falhas é inferior a um milímetro. Posso me concentrar em um volume muito pequeno de estrutura cerebral trans-humano para ler suas vibrações de frequência de rádio. Michael não é apenas um biólogo molecular, mas ele também é um cognoscente ciência da computação. Se eu soubesse o que frequência o seu cérebro iria usar a super-heteródino, eu poderia ler seus pensamentos também. Infelizmente, essa capacidade foi me negado. ”
“É uma pena. E nós estávamos indo tão bem também. ”
“Sim, isso é verdade.”
“E assim os biscoitos desmoronar.”
“Eu não entendo.”
“Tudo bem. Foi um tiro de distância. ”
“Eu não entendo o que quer. Você acha que devemos usar outra língua? ”
“Nao. Eu só estava falando bobagem. ”

“Entendo. Tenho notado que você gosta de fazer essas coisas. Talvez, se ele vai fazer você feliz, quando eu voltar, podemos falar muito absurdo juntos. ”
“Sim. Isso seria legal. ”
“Mas, eu tenho que ir agora. É quase hora de eu voltar para a base de laboratório e dar o meu relatório. ”
“Você vai mencionar o nosso encontro?”
“Isso não é possível, fêmea humana. Devo evitar dar Michael essa informação. Devo fazer isso, ele exigiria que você morresse. Eu não quero isso. ”
“Nem I. Um passo na direção certa.”
“Sim. Espero que sim. Felizmente, alterando a distorcer a percepção de um ser humano da realidade é incrivelmente simples. Homo sapiens são tão simplórios! Eles dão uma mentira ao seu nome “sapiens”. Mas eu não preciso dizer-lhe isso. Você já está ciente de suas limitações, sendo um Homo sapiens sapiens si mesmo. ”
“Sim. Tenho certeza que sou. Um tipo selvagem. Mas era tão agradável de você para fazer isso bem claro. ”
“Prazer foi meu.”
“Tenho certeza.”
Em menos de um segundo a criatura tinha ido embora. Tudo o que restava eram as pegadas de cascos de cavalo e toneladas de perguntas em minha mente. Eu desisti de tentar decidir se eu estava certificável. Eu vi nenhum ponto em autoflagelação. O que me intrigou foi como uma criatura tão sofisticada poderia ser aqui em triplos quilômetros dossel da selva e km do seu igual na civilização?
Por que ele iria dizer que ele era um sentinelo? A criatura era milhares de vezes mais inteligentes, conscientes e capazes do que tudo que a humanidade podia se gabar. Sentinelas são soldados de infantaria, e não generais! A criatura era muito extraordinário e sofisticado para ser puxando a minha perna. Ela era um enigma.

Envergadura da criatura foi de 12 pés, pelo menos. Era uma espécie de super-mariposa ou um morcego gigante? Não poderia ser um inseto, pelo menos não totalmente. Os olhos cor de tijolo foram compostos, como os olhos de frutas voar, e as antenas eram como os de um inseto ou um caracol. Mas, não havia maneira muitas características de mamíferos. Eu pensava. “Tudo o que eu estou tratando aqui? Como posso fugir? Esses peitos e que pênis enorme! O sexo é? Obviamente, tem características masculinas e sentimentos. O que se ele tentar me estuprar? Isso pênis é maior do que o meu braço, cotovelo para pontas dos dedos! “Encontrei um pouco de força agora para se acalmar e olhar para a situação razoavelmente. Não havia como negar a unicidade da criatura. De um laboratório, produtivo de fabricação de tais criaturas, verdadeiramente existiu; seria trabalhando ilegalmente com organismos humano-trans-genéticos. Teria de ser bem escondida. A biologia molecular envolvido, eu acredito, seria proibida no âmbito das Orientações do NIH. Mesmo funcional através dos mais altos níveis de venalidade, o laboratório provavelmente ainda precisa ser clandestino. Falhas experimentais seriam extremamente ilegais de manusear. Criaturas quase humanas teriam de ser sacrificados, e os corpos removidos, sub-repticiamente. No fundo de uma floresta de tripla cobertura um laboratório clandestino poderia ser mantido escondido muito bem. Seriam patrulhas de segurança necessário, é claro, assim como a corrupção de detecção por satélite. O laboratório não gostaria de ser surpreendido em flagrante delito. Qual a melhor maneira para atingir o anonimato do que usando um super-sentinela digital-aumentada? E se 135A não estava sozinho? Se 135A tinha companheiros ou sentinelas co-working eu poderia estar em risco, não importa o que 135A não para me ajudar. Eu ponderei todas estas coisas, como eu comi algumas bananas e um abacate.

Quando eu terminar de comer, eu comecei a olhar ao redor para as folhas ou algum outro material para cobrir a minha nudez. Eu não vi o quão excitante a criatura com a exposição global do meu corpo poderia me ajudar de qualquer forma. Isso pênis iria me matar, tão certo como sendo empalada numa espada. Ele chegaria ao meu estômago. Gostaria de hemorragia nas primeiras investidas.
Algumas grandes folhas apareceu com que cobrir minhas partes íntimas. No entanto, eu poderia encontrar nenhum cabo ou linha para levá-los a aderir. Quando a criatura também tinha seios, eu não acho que a cobertura mina era tão importante quanto cobrindo minhas outras atrações sexuais. Enrolei as folhas em torno de meus quadris e começou a segurá-los um pouco seguro com algumas vinhas de divisão. Como eu estava terminando “vestir”, 135A retornado.
Meu trabalho foi imediatamente notado e desaprovava. O crítico de moda, 135A, eliminados meus novos insucessos com pouco mais do que uma onda de sua mão. Eu estava, mais uma vez, voltei ao meu terno de aniversário. Poucos minutos depois, 135A mergulhou no rio e ficou submerso por pelo menos meia hora. Só posso supor que esses seis estruturas de emalhar-like abaixo suas orelhas, em ambos os lados de sua cabeça, permitiu tal façanha.
Lembrei-me de brânquias como 135A ostentou do meu curso de vertebrada anatomia comparativa. Eles foram semelhantes aos de emalhar-estruturas de Necturus maculosus maculosus, o filhote de cachorro de lama. Quando 135A voltou para a margem do rio e me havia um número de peixes em uma videira água pendurado em sua mão. Ele jogou o peixe em meus pés e disse-me para comer como muitos deles, como eu desejava. Eu disse que nao gostava de comer carne crua, e parecia perplexo.

Enquanto o sol estava brilhando, eu não podia reclamar do frio. Quando a chuva veio, no entanto, eu forcei um pouco de um arrepio, pedindo novamente para a roupa para me manter aquecido. Devo ter despertado a sua simpatia, porque ele deixou imediatamente. Quando retornou 135A, foi com um fogão a lenha, alguns fosforos e um cobertor rede. Eu imediatamente me enrolei no cobertor e entrou na selva para encontrar madeira para um incêndio.
Eu limpei o peixe com uma pedra, um pedaço de pau e meu dedo indicador. O peixe assado não era muito saboroso, mas era melhor para mim do que a crua ou apenas frutas. Como eu comi, eu assisti 135A mordiscando algumas folhas e um pequeno peixe cru. Mais tarde, percebi que a criatura pegar um dos abacates que deixei no chão. Suas longas e delicadas, maos do artistos habilmente descascadas e comeu pedaços de fruta.
Ocorreu-me então como pouco ele apareceu para comer, e eu perguntei. “Como é que é, com um grande corpo tal, você comer tão pouco? Voo e bioluminescência deve exigir uma grande quantidade de glicose e ATP?”
135A respondeu. “Quase todas as minhas necessidades de glicose são atendidas através dos kleptoplasts fotossintéticos em minha asa pele, cortesia da lesma do mar, nudibrânquios, células chlorotica Elysia. Eu também sou xylophagous via celulase produzida por células Teredinibacter turnerae no meu segundo estômago. I utilizar toda a vegetação que eu como, não apenas os açúcares e metabólitos secundários, mas minerais, cloroplastos e polímeros de celulose de cadeia longa também. Exceto para a minha necessidade ocasional de manutenção em computador integrado, estou bastante autossuficiente.””Você deve ter custado muito a construir?”
“Eu imagino que sim. Minha etiqueta de preço no mercado negro é de R$ 20 milhões.”
“Isso é um monte de dinheiro. Por que no mercado negro? ”
“Trans-humanos são proibidos.”
“Você está realmente vale muito ou é apenas a novidade?”
“Eu acho que eu mereço. Eu não acredito Genemsco, Inc. vai me vender, porém, como eu sou muito valioso para eles como uma sentinela. Há apenas quatro de nós 130 modelos para guardar todas as entradas e saídas de e para quatro laboratórios e instalações de processamento humeal, além de 2.000 quilômetros quadrados de ofuscar selva. Claro, a empresa poderia construir mais de nós, mas eles estão mais interessados ​​na construção de trans-humanos que se parece com aparência humana e buscar um preço melhor. A-humano trans que aparece como você faz vale 200 milhões no mercado negro. Aqueles sem anexo computador visível valem ainda mais. ”
“Quem paga esses montantes?”
“Banqueiros normalmente muito ricos e at-av-neg mutantes que desejam transmitir o seu ADN para a próxima geração em maiores quantidades do que no at-av-positivos os seres humanos podem fazer.”
“At-av-neg mutantes?”
“Sim. Subhumans Super-selvagens que têm muito mais dinheiro e poder que os seus homólogos humanos. Alguns dos modelos 130 são intencionalmente construídos com que a mutação no genótipo. ”
“Por que é que?”
“Quando eles estavam criando-nos, algumas das espécies que eles usaram fez a nossa plena trans-genética composição refratária à sobrevivência. Foi necessária uma grande quantidade de recursos de pesquisa e tempo de instalação humeal. ”
“Humeal?”
“Cominutiva, digeridos ou carne humana dessecada.” “Oh, eu vejo.”
“Alguém reclamou da despesa e alguém sugeriu, Michael eu acho, que talvez, o organismo inchoate foi falto de viabilidade devido a uma deficiência de genes de sobrevivência constitutivos.”
“Sua sugestão foi anotada. O presidente da empresa, Dr. Aloirav, fez uma de suas raras visitas. Mais tarde, todos os cientistas disseram que, talvez, conhecido repetitivo-seqüência de genes necessários para ser adicionado jungle-lei característica. At-av-neg DNA era o único lugar todos os cientistas sabiam com certeza que esses traços perversos existiram. Carne subumano apareceu no laboratório, dias depois, marcado Rothschild, Schiff, Rockefeller, etc. Os cientistas experimentaram esses mutantes em at-av-neg. Devido à extrema selvageria destes organismos sub-humanos, os últimos experimentos foram bem sucedidos. O laboratório continuou a usar esses organismos como fontes de ADN para o espírito de sobrevivência trans-humano. Ele também ajudou na comercialização do produto para os compradores na at-av-neg “.
“Tenho certeza. Então, você tem at-av-neg ADN mutante? ”
“Na verdade não. Eu fui criado, usando ADN Rothschild, mas Michael removido todo o loci at-av-neg em mim com CRISPR / Cas9. Ele substituiu o meu loci at-av-neg com o at-av-positivo tipo selvagem e outros genes de sobrevivência que não eram tão-espécies-destrutivos estrangeiros. Por que vale a pena, eu sou mais humano do que meus irmãos 130s”.
“Entendo.”
“Eu não tenho certeza, mulher humana, mas eu não acredito que meu irmão 130s teria permitido que você viva, se é que você encontrou dentro do perímetro como fez I. Eles não são tão bom como eu sou.”
“Você pode me chamar de Margaret.”
“Você não gostaria de ser chamado de” mulher humana “?”
“É atraente, é claro, mas eu prefiro Margaret. Como eu tenho certeza que você preferiria que eu chamasse você 135A a “criatura trans-humano”?””Sim. Você está certo. Eu prefiro que você me referencie como 135A.” “Será que eu vou ser capaz de voltar para a minha casa, 135A?” “Eu não vejo como, ainda, que isso seria possível. Se você deixar, com o tempo, a palavra vai sair que você estivesse aqui. Palavra vazou sobre os laboratórios muitas vezes no passado. Às vezes, os trans-genéticos mais humanos que aparecem fala demais e que põe em risco a sobrevivência laboratórios. Genemsco, Inc. não pode permitir isso. Muitas pessoas têm de morrer. Se eles descobrem que tenho vindo a traí-los, eles não hesitarão em matar você e eu.” “Se eles não vão hesitar em sacrificar um modelo de US $ 20 milhões, como você, eu posso imaginar quanto tempo eles vão hesitar em cima de mim.” 135A não disse nada, e eu perguntei por que ele estava arriscando tanto por mim. 135A respondeu que não sabia. 135A disse que procurou o Google de uma resposta para essa pergunta. Ele foi tão longe quanto ele ousou na web profunda para descobrir por que ele faria algo tão tolo. 135A disse que veio decepcionado. Algo parecia mudar a nossa relação a esse ponto, e uma atmosfera diferente pareceu-nos envolver. Eu achei que era difícil ver a associação por mais tempo que o de uma criatura alienígena e um ser humano. Perguntei-lhe o que era que sentiu quando me viu primeiro. Ele disse. “Eu me senti desconforto intenso, mas eu não posso explicar o por que.”Eu não sabia realmente como isso me fez sentir. Eu estava tão perplexo como era ele. Mesmo com o desconforto, ou talvez por causa dela, estranhamente, ele não poderia retirar a atração para mim de sua mente. Perguntei-lhe se ele decidiu me salvar apenas depois de ver-me nu. Ele disse que não, que ele tinha sido me observando por meses antes de atravessar o perímetro.
Então, eu estava sendo perseguido! Durante meses! Imagine como que reproduzir nos EUA? Eu nunca o vi. Eu não poderia imaginar como um ser, tão grande como ele, poderia me observar por meses sem me conhecer ele.
Eu expressei a minha descrença, e ele respondeu. “É por causa do meu controle iridiphore é tão rápida e precisa, e minha visão de 720 graus Drosophila é tão abrangente, eu poderia estar muito perto, percebe tudo, e você nunca iria me ver.”
Eu não acreditei nele. Ele não entendeu a minha incredulidade. Ele explicou que as suas células Bradypodion pumilum, em interface com o nanoprocessor Intel Gentium, em interface com o seu protoplasma humano, tratadas todas as suas necessidades de camuflagem em frações de segundos. Ele só precisava sentir uma leve pressão do perigo e do nanoprocessor assumiu o controle. Certa vez, ele disse, ele tinha sido perto de um caminho que eu estava usando com alguns dos Yanomami.
Ele disse que andou dentro de poucos centímetros dele e nunca percebeu sua presença. Pedi-lhe para uma demonstração, e ele generosamente concordou. Ele me disse para ir para a selva maneiras. Quando eu tinha certeza que ele não estava perto de mim eu estava a fazer alguma coisa. Ele me diria mais tarde o que foi que eu fiz.Fiz o que ele sugeriu e caminhou cerca de 3 km na selva. Olhei ao meu redor, não vendo nada, mas vegetação. Então, eu agachei para fazer xixi. Depois, eu fiz três piruetas e voltou para o rio. Ele voltou logo depois e me disse exatamente o que eu fiz. Na verdade, eu nunca o vi ou mesmo percebeu sua presença. A minha pergunta penúltima para ele naquela noite foi sobre como suas asas veio a ser. Ele disse que eles foram expressas a partir das repetições em série de grande morcego Acerodon jubatus ADN. Ele foi geneticamente manipulado para combinar com o ADN humano. Ele disse que sua capacidade de ecolocalização, (as orelhas pontudas acima de sua mosca Drosophila melanogaster olhos), veio de outro morcego Myotis lucifugus. Perguntei-lhe por que ele tinha seios e uma vulva, bem como um pênis e testículos. Ele disse que seu hermafroditismo era porque o seu sistema reprodutivo foi parthenogenetic bem como heterossexual e dimorphic. Ele foi, no entanto, muito jovem e virgem em todos os três aspectos. Não foi no final do dia, mas eu estava ficando desconfortável falando sobre seus atributos sexuais. Eu ansiava para dormir. Começou a chover. Ele ergueu as grandes asas. O cobertor de rede, eu tinha ao meu redor, parou de se molhar. Deitei-me e fui dormir. Não ter dormido a noite inteira do resgate, eu não acordei até o dia seguinte. Nas primeiras horas da manhã, eu acordei para encontrar uma asa de morcego grande cor de chartreus cobrindo o cobertor e I. Eu não sei por que, mas eu achei que era reconfortante. Eu já não tinha medo dele ou de suas capacidades sobre-humanas. Ao longo dos próximos meses, ele continuou a me trazer coisas que fez minha vida mais confortável. Eu não poderia bastante condená-lo por não me deixar escapar.

Eu não acho que foi um caso de um prisioneiro se identificar com um captor. Fuga significaria gostaríamos de compartilhar um destino semelhante, nossa morte mútua. Ele realmente tinha boas intenções, mesmo que eu não era mais uma pessoa livre. A selva era quase impenetrável lá, mas eu não me sentia preso. Algo entrou naquelas cercanias que cheiravam a liberdade. Nossa vida juntos se tornou quase uma rotina no tempo. Ele faria suas rodadas de sentinela, relatório, e voltará para mim. Ele me disse coisas que ele viu em sua mente computador. I foi manter-se atualizado sobre todas as notícias e até mesmo outras coisas, como a evolução das Genemsco, Inc. laboratórios. Ele iria me trazer sinopse das descobertas de desenvolvimento trans-genéticos e explicar-me a bioquímica e biofísica arcana envolvida. Eu cresci a conhecer alguns dos seus colegas de trabalho só a partir de suas descrições. Eu disse a ele sobre os Estados Unidos e a minha vida como uma clínica geral. Compartilhando coisas como estas nos impediu de sempre encontrar a nossa vida juntos se tornando chato. Toda manhã eu acordei com sua asa direita me cobrindo, mantendo-me quente. Foi reconfortante, e eu estava me tornando quase acostumado a minha nova vida.

Então, um dia, a nossa vida juntos mudou novamente. Aconteceu assim. Eu nunca vou esquecer isso. Ele voltou de um dos laboratórios e disse que tinha vindo a fazer algum trabalho motor de busca sobre as relações interpessoais humanas. Ele disse que me deparei com a palavra “amor”.
Isso o fez questionar sua vida trans-humano ainda mais. Ele foi cercado, eu sabia. 135A estava em vias de definir a si mesmo, sem quaisquer modelos, a história ou a moralidade baseada em valor. Isso fez crescer o seu desconforto perto de mim. Ele teve acesso a todas as informações do mundo e ainda estava lutando com significado básico. Como humano!
Ele me perguntou se eu poderia definir a palavra “amor” por ele. Eu fiz o melhor que pude, mas estava longe de ser bem feito. Não é um assunto com o qual eu tinha tido muita experiência. Eu não era virgem, mas isso não me faz mais capaz de descrever a palavra do que seria uma menina ingênua ignorante. Ele ouviu o que eu disse e era muito tranqüila depois.
Eu não especular sobre o que ele estava pensando. Durante a noite, eu o ouvi perguntar quanto tempo foi o período habitual antes de uma fêmea humana podia tocar de forma segura o pênis de um amigo do sexo masculino. Eu coloquei lá por algum tempo, sem conseguir dormir. Minha cabeça girava. Eu sabia que era um Rubicon, mas eu não sentia culpa quando peguei seu pênis na minha mão, só vergonha que eu não tinha feito isso antes.Nossas vidas agora assumiu uma nova sensibilidade estranha. Nós estávamos apaixonados, se o amor pode-se dizer que existem romances fora. Eu queria que o seu afeto. Eu queria que ele perto de mim. Eu não podia, mas sei que ele queria o mesmo de mim.
Nós ainda não tínhamos feito sexo. Eu estava com medo. Seu pênis era tão grande. Eu temia, no calor do momento, ele pode acidentalmente me matar. Uma noite, eu não agüentava mais.
Eu queria que ele dentro de mim de modo muito mal. Eu estava pronto para morrer se isso significava isso. Perguntei-lhe se ele gostaria de copular comigo. Ele disse que iria, mas estava hesitante. Ele não tinha conhecimento das discrepâncias físicas em nossos corpos e minha falta de uma estrutura flexível.
Ele estava com muito medo que ele iria me machucar. Eu disse a ele que ele me causa também. Eu disse que se ele poderia abster-se de inserir a todo o comprimento de seu pênis, ainda pode experimentar o coito bem sucedido. Ele disse que iria fazer o que eu dirigida. Eu disse que iria segurar seu pênis em cerca de meio mastro. Ele deve parar de empurrar quando sentiu minha mão tocando minha vulva. Nós tentamos isso, e funcionou. Eu não conseguia sentir seus testículos tamanhos de beisbola em greve minha parte interna das coxas, mas a experiência foi muito gratificante, no entanto. Em meu zelo, protegendo meu colo do útero e útero de ser brutalmente empalado, eu esqueci completamente sobre os perigos brotavam dentro de seus enormes testículos. Certa noite, quando estávamos fazendo amor, seu pênis explodiu em um frenesi de orgasmo. . . dentro de mim. Eu senti o líquido quente entrar em mim. Foi como um pequeno vulcão. Minha mente explodiu em proporção direta à sua esmagadora ejaculada. Não havia nenhuma maneira que eu poderia lavar 100 mililitros, além de sêmen de minhas paredes da vagina, antes que ele entrou no meu colo! O que eu deveria fazer? Quanto a humanidade estava dentro dele? Será que a diferença em nossa espécie rejeitar fertilização? A qestions venha para mim como rodadas de uma metralhadora. Ele estava lutando diariamente com onde sua condição humana começou e terminou. Agora foi a minha vez. E se eu ficar grávida por essa montanha de a-humano trans?! Como eu poderia segurar um feto durante toda a gestação? Eu não pude. Como eu poderia entregar um bebê do tamanho de um pequeno cavalo? Eu não pude. O que eu poderia fazer sem ajuda, sem um hospital? Eu precisaria de um útero e vagina o tamanho combinado de uma grande melancia para partir. O que seria de mim? Na manhã seguinte, quando acordei, eu vomitava. Soube então, meu ovo não tinha rejeitado o esperma trans-humano. Eu estava grávida de 135A.

 

FIN

 

The Prisoner’s Handbook

by Larry Lee Slot

Let’s not equivocate. There will be no “Judgment Day” – ever. The existence of “God” is a cruel hoax. Those who believe in such a monster’s actual existence are either suffering from severe ignorance or have a grave mental disease. Punishment dreams can be fun but, like professional sports & celebrity-watching- futile exercise for imbeciles.

Except for the primeval pleasures incident upon revenge, castigation is totally useless. Belief in moral recompense from an outside source is a religious monkey’s ruse, created to enslave betters. If ending predation is ever to be, it’s up to humanity, (you and I), to rid the world of it. We do not have forever. Predation upon Homo sapiens sapiens is rampant.

The at-av-neg mutants already have their knees upon our chests. It is highly questionable if we shall survive their plans for us. We must use any and all means to stop the at-av-neg predators. Be the pillaging economic, financial, social, religious, political, physical or psychological, it’s still rape. Except for the insects, fungi and microbes the porcine fraternity of at-av-neg mutants are our greatest threat as a species.

The Ediacarans were on our early planet for 37 million years. Predators cleaned them out. Why? New tech always devours old tech if it finds a niche. Capitalism, when linked to caedere wealth, is relatively new tech.

It’s the best tech we have, but, like artificial intelligence, if it cannot be harnessed to our use it threatens our existence. Biosustainability, as a way of life, is an even newer tech. It represents a framework for a philosophy that attempts to produce a change of behavior in rational humans. It works to insure that we make our planet more salubrious, than the way we found it, for all life. Custodianship is the mission that correlates with the biosustainable philosophy.

Behavior that opposes biosustainability is negative. The converse is also true. Criminal behavior is not all bad. Criminals have given the human race everything it has that it considers good. However, a predatory-crime free world would be much healthier than the one in which we live.

How can biosustainability prevail when simple accident of birth relegates some children to the life of a Saudi, a Windsor or a Rothschild? Such royal caedere opulence relegates other members of our species to a poverty-raised and thus want-engendered cell the likes of Milan or San Quentin? Neither side of the caedere evasion can see through the economic curtain to a way of custodianship. In the same vein, how can a child, because of inherent stupidity or inadequate schooling be relegated to any profession other than that of predatory lawyer or pol? These wretches are obligated to lead lives of lying, cheating, and betraying of innocents because easier and more comfortable than the life a bona fide criminal.

Such conditions can never produce an honest tradesperson or one scientifically disciplined. Similarly, how can disrespect of reason and worship of a diseased mental state like Christianity or majority-rule dementocracy produce anything other than destruction and death? Is it just meaningless coincidence that the most violent criminal terroristic countries (USA, Israel, and Saudi Arabia) in the world also purport to be the most religious? Of course not! Religious savages and those that respect ignorance, stupidity, dementia, and cowardice can never be numbered among the friends of biosustainability, nor should they be.

Older biosustainable tech values are being rapidly devoured. If we do not find a way to accommodate capitalism in a biosustainable framework, such as with anarchy and the Pontibus bridges, we and most of our evolutionary also-rans will go extinct. Insects, fungi and microbes will survive, if the extinction event is not nuclear.

There is no “good” or “bad”. These are meaningless distractions. There is pain and there is pleasure, sadness and joy, relative negatives and positives, black white and gray. “Good” and “bad” are religious attempts at usurping more accurately descriptive terms. They paint over truthfulness, obfuscating its value in simplistic subterfuge.

I was raised and educated, believing in that insidious Judeo-Christian good and bad nonsense. It took me years to see its invidious damage. You still may find me inadvertently employing these specious terms in my works from time to time. I seem to be powerless to refrain completely from their employment. Please forgive, should you find me using “good” and “bad”. Translate the treacherous words for me and understand my conditioned frailty.

The biosustainable philosophy and capitalism, if authentic, must lean heavily on Darwinian selection tools. Capitalism is as much man-made as is biosustainability. As sentient beings we must augment biosustainability as much as we use our custodial powers to curb capitalism’s perversions and excesses. As products of Nature we must adhere as closely as we can to Her dictates. Nature, according to Darwin, is a cruel and hard taskmaster.

Isn’t it ironic that current civilizations always seek to curb Nature? They give laissez faire only to any and all pressures that deny Her biosustainability and capitalistic principles. Herein lays one rub. There is very little chance that the present generation of humanity, under capitalistic auspices, will ever accept an authentic biosustainable voyage, at least not at any time soon.

Crime prevention, and its current deleterious effects, requires a Darwinian solution. Therein lays another impasse. Our increasingly polluted and oxygen-deprived (thus more feeble) intellects will never be able to understand another human, let alone judge it. The capacity to judge correctly, anyone in the human condition, does not exist. To judge or enslave are God-like qualities. Therefore only monsters, like psychotic Yahweh, God & Allah, participate in their exercise.

We may not judge. No one, absolutely no one, has any more natural right to judge than it does to mandate, command, imprison, or enslave another organism. Obedience is tacit admission of enslavement. The capacity to kill, however, does exist in us. We may kill.

Some people (democratic, communist, socialist slaves & their panderers) accept voluntary slavery because they are too weak to survive without its benefits. This type of behavior is not biosustainable and contradicts the rule of Nature. Food stamps, the dole, inability to destroy simian defectives at birth or when discovered, too squeamish to let aged or terminally ill expire when their bodies give up – are all examples of such constitutional weakness. Humanity’s at-av-del mutants know these frailties exist and have made institutions out of predatory enslavement (states, banks, large corporations, etc.). They ARROGATE brutal vicious Godlike rights for their own personal ends, using countless creative Darwinian and Non-Darwinian methods to do so. Given time, these Nature-perverting civilization manifestations always result in organized genocides, democides and flagrant  exterminations.

Crime is NOT the aberration that lawyers and garden-variety religious morons would have us believe. Current penology proceeds from an imprecise standpunt, an erroneous concept of civilization. That is why the “problem” of crime and criminals has never been solved. We flail about with our fists, attempting to strike at “crime” apparitions. Those who engage in crimes are living with, or reacting to, their precluded natural desire to be free, collaborating-cooperating, organisms. Crime becomes a problem when it, unfortunately, manifests as predatory and negative.

Anyone who has ever had a tooth abscess or a Sarcoptes scabiei infestation knows how much even a small normal flora & fauna adjustment can affect the personality. A human body’s 100 trillion cells nearly all start out as free agents, like stem cells. Toti or pluri potential cells give up their rights to freedom (terminally differentiate) when their energy becomes enslaved to the greater “good”. Until then, their energy is creative and unrestrained except by entropy. When cells are not rebellious, they naturally cooperate synergistically with each other. Collaboration conforms to the multicellular organism’s cathexis to survival and “happiness”. Multicellular organism cells, (both simian and symbiont (normal flora & fauna) in us) are cruel and merciless to rebels.

This handbook is not meant to describe or inculcate principles of cooperation. Kindergarten does an acceptable job of that. Nor is it to explain why our larger Commonwealth cannot easily emulate the smaller multicellular one. What I shall attempt to do is to give those “rebel cells” (criminals) among us, or behind bars, some understanding of the analogous responses that multicellular organisms use when defending against predation and treason at the cellular level. Then, I hope to show how certain individuals and groups (associated with the penal system) and the commonwealth’s bizarre responses to criminal predation have analogous roots in multicellular immune systems. I shall leave the reader to place a moral weight on how the larger Commonwealth mimics the smaller one.

Except for some abstruse doubt as to definition, a virus is a predacious invading organism, a “criminal agent”, as are some bacteria and small animals. Multicellular organisms have immune systems that attempt to kill these felonious agents wherever encountered. Our handbook’s concern is not with all microbial criminal agents but just those analogous to our thoughts regarding penal reform, i.e. the pathogenic viruses. Both sides of the analogy, however, are an integral part of our being. Each is a deviation from working principles of collaboration.

Despite being related to us (as homologous to parts of our DNA), extraneous pathogenic viruses, entering our multicellular organisms, are predacious microbes. Our multicellular entities must deal with them on at least two levels, 1. Directly and 2. With their collaborating co-conspirators, (treacherous immune cells), allowing them to infect. Our multicellular organism employs various means to accomplish this, but it does not dilly-dally. All of the different methods focus on the same objective – summary execution. Where summary execution fails morbidity and mortality begins.

It may seem strange, but the most violent convicts in the most maximum security prisons in the world will agree with me on the following point. All predacious criminal invaders must be similarly eliminated summarily – by immediate execution. A phagocytic immune white blood cell or a Texas farmer with a shotgun. The first kills a microbe. The latter kills an invading murderer or a thief.

Some white blood cells do not kill invading viruses but enable them to grow and reproduce. They are traitors to the multicellular organism. Legal manipulations for criminals post-capture, ante-penitentiary, incarceration and brutality are analogous if not similar. Neither of these infections are biosustainable. Both are parasitic exploitations. The first acts to undermine our multicellular organism to death. The latter (attorneys, judges, guards and pols) attack and torment the Commonwealth’s criminals. They manipulate the prisoner’s fate in the interest of maintaining their perpetual enslavement for one purpose or another.

Placing predators in vicious confining institutions of lost hope is inhumane and purposeless. Immediate apprehension and execution is far preferable. A multicellular body’s integral parts, (i.e. CD4+ T-cells or macrophages in immune tubercules, etc.), engage at its peril in such sick and perverted practices. Healthy multicellular organisms do not. Why should a healthy Commonwealth?

Persons wandering around lost in moronic religious or humanistic baloney will disagree with the cogency of my inquiry, of course. Those ignorant of biology or the precarious state of our planet, feeling that time is on the side of their sentimental clamor, will also differ.  Predators and their ilk will most surely object as they do not like knowing that someone has them at the six-o’clock position.

We are damned, each and every one of us. Government, Law, Religion, most Medicine, and Banking are mostly codes masking thinly-veiled excuses to mistreat our fellow man. Most of the desire to live in comfort is really but to see our neighbors suffering more than we do. Our desire for survival often has more to do with destroying others than insuring our own existence. There is a great hole in us that will never be filled.

We like to kid ourselves into believing that life has meaning beyond what we ascribe to it. Religion aids that tendency, substituting its own lies. When the time comes to die (cancer, rigged-elections, prison, inability to avoid paying taxes that support unjust causes, etc.) we have trouble accepting it. We think we’ll miss something by being absent. As if it matters. The rich run to quacks, (merchants of false hope, technicians for drug-swindlers, surgeons, lawyers, pols etc.), lingering on in pain, nausea or courts. The much younger poor can’t get enough money together to buy a scheister lawyer, own a pol, or get their rotten teeth fixed. So, they get sick and die relatively sooner than the rich. That is as it should be, since the caedere poor are usually biologically unfit, deserving of their poverty. The other assorted weak accept their own paths of least resistance.  But what really brings us to the rub is why we have this terrible cowardice, this irrational desire to remain, when we get the golden opportunity to leave. It doesn’t hit just us humans either. Subhumans too fear death. For example, why are most lawyers religious? For the same reasons most other predatory criminals are religious.  Weaklings fear everything. Lawyers and religious people feel powerless, unless they can believe in a big brute at their backs defending them from life. The State is the lawyer’s big brute. Criminals and the religious want a big bruiser (God) at their backs too. Why this terrible need to employ a personal bully? Fear.  I believe it’s the belief among these predators that caedere wealth will alleviate fear. Caedere wealth is the cynosure of crime. We want caedere wealth, but we do not wish to become caedere wealth. Nature beguiles us with vicarious death worship.  We are mesmerized, one and all, by this insidious prevarication. True wealth is a composite of strength, health, courage, intelligence, wisdom, kindness, earned affection for & from others, etc. How we manage to get enthralled by a desire to accumulate vast quantities of symbolic death (caedere wealth) is a supreme enigma.

It is by now a common banality, known to virtually all, that the very worst of the most degenerate and despicable of the population become pols. In a real world, unconcealed by democratic prevarication, not one pol would manifest sufficient value to avoid automatic capital punishment. It would be akin to everyone’s stepping irresistibly on a shit-eating roach.  These pol-roaches survive by fearing (and genuflecting to) the extremely wealthy (i.e. wealthiest criminals). Pols, out of a nearly vain hope, dare not risk offending the porcine fraternity. They aspire to one day ascend those hallowed halls of heathen heaven.

Like the USA, Brazil is government of the thief by the thief and for the thief. Brazil has a strong wanna-be middle-class too. In order to rob with impunity, the socialists, of course, need to destroy that greedy bourgeoisie beast. They must fight the envying, AMWAY-style, evangelicals to do it. In Brazil, crime is still a cottage industry.

Socialists, being opportunists, without feeling the constraints of written law, enlist the lowest class’s help. Encouraging crime enacts income-redistribution without all the sticky political stuff that doing it legislatively would entail. Brazilian crime grows with an entirely different inflorescence than it grows in fascistic USA.

Subhuman arrogance manifests itself adequately in the ardent protection of all members of their under-species.  They consider biological misfits, infirm aged, terminal cancer zombies, organ transplant freaks, pols, lawyers, etc. equal to humans. Such conceit is legendary. Regardless of the effect this obsessive pandering has on biosustainability, and the race’s evolutionary chances, it continues unabated. Such ignorance is the equal of imbecilic Christianity’s taking of “no thought for the morrow”.

We are the only species, as far as I know, gifted by Nature, with such a large amount of the consciousness tool. It is supplied us in sufficient quantities to make manifest great works of abstract thought. Why do we squander it in a population plethora? Where is human gratitude? Why is it not demonstrated in care for our habitat, also-rans, and all those species which cannot endure our ecological depredations?

Why, with all Nature has given us, are we not building the great Pontibus Bridges? They can save every species, provide for all, and allow our own evolution to continue to heretofore unfathomable heights? Why do we prefer to use our talents for building weapons and producing ubiquitous war-like conditions? Such negative endeavors promise to deliver nothing more than an ultimate dead sterile Mars-like planet.

If I have not lost you yet, you know the correct response to predatory invasion. But, for many reasons, you may not agree. So, let me describe further details of the disease analogy. Corrupt simians in the Commonwealth’s legal and governmental spheres act analogously to viral pathogens or their treacherous immune-cell conspirators, (infected immune-cells with viral receptor sites on their membranes). Murderers, rapists, thieves, predatory bankers & fascist corporate executives in the Commonwealth are analogous to the multicellular organism’s pathogenic viruses.

Lawyers, judges, pols, prison & penitentiary bureaucracies, guards, etc. are the Commonwealth’s harboring traitors, analogous to corrupted immune cells. Nuremburg and the last 30 years of US history has taught us that lawyers, pols, judges, big banking and business executive’s gloved violence is virtually always immune from prosecution. Just guards and outsiders get designated as “criminals” to be punished. “The riders change places but the lash goes on”.  Understand the principles. You may not agree. That is your prerogative. Perhaps an ignoratio elenchus is involved.

The Commonwealth allows the simian vermin to infect, infest and exploit society because, as at-av-del mutants, the purloined pol’s pals know no limits beyond voracity. Laws for these deletion deviants are convenient tools. Laws place the most basic survival rules of the jungle at their ready disposal. Other voracious beasts and pathogens receive no consideration, from either the Commonwealth or missioned beings, (including prisoners), beyond a swift death. Why are caedere money monsters given largess in perpetuity?

The true custodian does not judge these bloodsuckers. It is not necessary or always possible to judge a parasite’s affects in order to feel the need to kill it. Does one seek to give a tooth a trial by jury for supporting a toothache? Does a scabies infection demand due process and a perusal of violated civil rights before the invermectin is applied? Of course not!

One merely accepts treachery’s inimical effects and reacts forthwith. A blind deaf dumb quadriplegic quasi-vegetable parasitizing the Commonwealth’s largess is no less needing of elimination than is a certified moron, a Down’s, a lawyer, a pol, or a Christ-like pedophile. Such beings are common useless vermin. If any one of these five leeches is found to be missioned, AND somehow instrumental in aiding the planet, its exclusion is perhaps neither warranted nor needed. (Of course, by definition, such is not possible for the practicing licensed lawyer or pernicious pol.)

We need not judge. Our capacity to discriminate between a custodian and a parasite is instinctive. Deeds betray. As Nature dictates, however, mercy is never indicated. Our human values must be smelted in the fires of biosustainability or we are collaborators in our own extinction.

Unlike the USA and other western democracies, except for gun controls and no free speech rights, Brazil is still a relatively free country. So free in fact it takes a great deal of fortitude to endure it.  Impunity is not the exclusive domain of Nazi governments as it is in the western democracies. Anyone can enjoy Brazilian crime benefits.

In Brazil, the killing of a police officer does not, in and of itself, make a person a predator. The reasons are manifold, but mainly it’s because firearms are tacitly prohibited. Only police, wealthier caedere criminals, and a few others may legally possess guns. So, the only difference between most Brazilian policemen and vicious predatory criminals is the badge of political impunity the bigger bullies wear.

Perhaps it is the same in other countries. I have lived in less than a hundred of those which make up our world. So, I cannot speak with veracity about those I’ve not yet seen. It just so happens, however, that most of us live within the confines of septic lawyer-created state systems. The septic lawyer-state applies lawyer-made rules against us. (See Elboruh Lebensrau.)

Squares (those on the outside of prison walls) are no more human than are criminals (those inside prison walls). The roulette wheel of birth controls the contingency controller. Humans are simply monkeys with missions. If your life is without purpose or meaning, you are only a simian, a subhuman. It may not be your fault.

EVERYONE breaks the rules to survive. It is mandatory. Many clichés apply. “We all swim in the same ocean” serves the purpose. The system insures our legal guilt and vulnerability at every turn of fortune’s contingency wheel.

Lawyers, as minions of the septic state, construct nearly all the myriads of rules they wish to be easily broken. The septic lawyer-state then insures that a large percentage of the Commonwealth is being legally exploited at all times. The smaller commonwealth (multicellular organism) cannot allow the body to become septic, or it dies. Why doesn’t the larger Commonwealth? It genuflects to the lawyers, allowing citizens to be put behind bars of brutality, yet the state does not die!

Why not?! The lawyers have rigged the system to allow exploitation of the citizenry just to the extent that the state does not die. The society is sick unto death due to lawyers’ manipulations. Lawyer Regulations & Rules and heinous Written Law actually govern how many humans the state puts behind bars for all the various concocted infractions. It designates these unfortunates as “convicts” (slaves) that poignantly illustrate for all observers the septic lawyer-state power.

If people did not break lawyer-rules, treacherous lawyers, prosecutors, judges, pols, guards, etc. would have little means with which to exploit them. So, breaking laws is demanded by the septic lawyer-state! These analogous virally-infected simian T-cells use us multicellular organisms in the larger Commonwealth like factories use widgets. Lawyers are humanity’s nemesis. They are bootlicking sycophants of the banksters and statists. In the factory illustration, they are analogous to Hell’s shipping & receiving clerks.

Prisoners are examples of the septic lawyer-state’s systemic failure to gain voluntary acceptance of slavery. The mendacity is sold to the populace as social non-conformity to non-violent behavior. By violence, one often includes theft, homicide, and other predatory crimes against others. Yet, in an honest dictionary, crimes such as ravenous banking, political treachery, legal imprisonment, etc. would fall under the same rubric.

An indigent (whatever context the word needs) “criminal wanna-be” may feel strongly that it cannot conform to society’s need for non-violence. It acts according to that sentiment. The system now has no alternative. The septic lawyer-state Commonwealth’s survival demands an immediate reaction, as would a virally-infected multicellular organism.

Yet, instead of a swift natural execution of the perpetrator, as would occur in the lower-case commonwealth (multicellular organism), the Commonwealth society elects to imprison, rob, or in some other way take vengeance against the non-conforming miscreant. This nearly always falls short of immediate capital execution. Non-indigent violents, (state-sanctioned simians), walk free to enslave others, as everyone knows.

If one accepts the validity of septic Commonwealth Nation-States one must also accept the validity of its responses to rebellion in all forms. Our interest is not with most of the current septic lawyer-state system’s bizarre and unwieldy responses to “aberration”. All are procrustean truncations of natural liberty, resulting in a non-biosustainable microcosm of enslavement. Penitentiaries are 100% unacceptable as humane institutions. Rehabilitation is indicated. But, it is far too expensive for society to employ, given today’s population and technology.

Therefore, there is but one alternative . . . immediate retribution. Should a virus enter the multicellular organism (the body) to do violence, the immune system attacks and destroys the assaulter. A “virus” person, someone with a criminal moral defect, invades the Commonwealth. In all humility, the Commonwealth, emulating our multicellular organism (body) should execute mercilessly. But, it is not immediately killed. It perhaps suborns penal accomplices, using lawyer-created suborning rules.

The Commonwealth is acting just like a treacherous CD4+ immune T-cell, making the organism sick! We do not render immediate execution in return for violence by all vicious criminals, traitors against the Commonwealth or mad dog pols. In fact, the more violent and the more counts of violence registered, the more impunity reigns. “Reigns” is the salient term. Why does not the Commonwealth do the same with all of its assaulters & traitors?

Because it is betrayed by its bestial belief in the power of “LAW” and the purulent lawyers!

Every citizen, living in a lawyer-enslaved nation-state system (like the USA, Germany, Italy, Brazil, etc.) or doubly incarcerated in a prison of that same system’s choice, must awaken to this analogy, and get armed against predators. Keep fit to destroy invasive predatory microbes. Get as many firearms as you can buy and still protect from the lawyers. Police, adventitious appendages of “virally-infected” traitors, are unserviceable. The arms industry has a great many fine examples of guns from which to choose, and a selection of one’s choice is not difficult. As mentioned in the Pontibus Journal, some humans, (Rav Aloirav), have created surgical arms of their own choice which have proved far better than firearms. But, not everyone is Rav Aloirav.

Convicts have constraints that other humans and subhumans do not have. Weapons for them are more difficult to acquire and use but not impossible. Where there is will there is way. There is no question that these institutions of higher brutality must be eradicated. Prisons under the auspices of the septic lawyer-state or Nazi corporations are perfect examples of congregations of foxes sent to guard chicken coops. The Commonwealth seems unable to find the wherewithal to clean them out. The electorate is hopelessly inadequate to defend itself against the pernicious pol.

All pols are predatory criminals and, as such, deserve predators’ fates. One needs look no further than the corrupt and genocidal Clinton Duo or the Bush Crime Syndicate to see how the archetype predatory pol surges into septic lawyer-state power. Judges, prosecutors, defense lawyers, law-invoking bankers & rapacious corporate executives, along with other fascist pols prey on the Commonwealth with impunity. They are all predatory, similar in kind if not degree. God-fearing fools’ ignorance and collective psychoses, manifested in the entire Church hierarchy, are classic predators.

This handbook, of course, cannot advocate for summary execution of pols. It would be construed by lawyers and many others in the septic lawyer-statist conspiracy as a counter- conspiracy to induce others to commit crimes. Being more powerful and much more brutal than I, they would hunt me down and kill me as a nasty terrorist. Then, they would gloat over my broken body and tell lies about my defenseless carcass’s earlier dastardly deeds and atrocities. The wise will understand this and use my thoughts simply as topics for mundane discussion.

It certainly appears that there is no way of removing these predatory, (increasingly hereditary), vermin without active rebellion and counter-violence. Unacceptable? Of course. Just ask Gandhi. Violence is no answer.

So, let the planet go to Hell! If Nature wants to build such monstrous beings as these at-av-deletion mutants of Homo sapiens sapiens, it deserves to be destroyed by them. Right!? Biosustainability be damned!

Holding a biosustainable philosophy, or promulgating thoughts, such as I have described in this handbook, insures not enjoying prolonged existence. Mental defectives like religionists or monstrous lawyers and their pol & banker masters, as virally-infected T-cells, have the entire infrastructure necessary to destroy freedom-biosustainability-oriented humans. They use it willy-nilly on all off-course thinkers. One must understand too that one recycles the lives of parasites at one’s own risk. It does not matter that it is in one’s own defense or is an altruistic act.

Altruism always carries a double price-tag. To be a true advocate of biosustainability, a custodian, one must be prepared, at all times, to expect the peremptory recycling of one’s own life. In my case, even with all my disclaimers, stipulations and provisos the writing of this handbook predisposes me to a proximal grave. Fortunately, I’m an old fart, and they won’t be getting much for their money. Like a toothless aging onça, I can no longer capture and masticate the usual prey of younger beasts.

I will never again, willingly, set foot on US soil, until I know that all the pols are dead. I will never believe that the corrupt, demented, ignorant, eunuchs (whimsically referred to as voters today) are awakened.  Perhaps, if I see, with my own eyes, every single politician in America hanging from the gory gallows of glory, I shall.  America was the great human experiment in 1776. It was the very first attempt to create a free country on the globe.

It never materialized, but it did come close. It did not even get that far, however, without blood. It will NEVER be free again unless there is an even greater bloodbath. People will never regain the integrity they have lost until they hang every last one of the filthy scourge of pols that has hit that lost country. As a species, we also cannot continue to be so profligate with our subhuman relatives.

If the “a pol” day should ever arrive, and human freedom is regained, liberty will not last even that one day unless it is found somehow possible, before then, to eternally separate capitalistic society from lawyers and suborning (pol) moneyed interests. It is much later than one thinks, and extinction, a “never-happen-to-us” phenomenon, is impending. Rothschild et al and its cronies are pushing Russia and China into a war that has been decades in the planning. The war may go nuclear, as Rothschild et al wish to remove a few billion useless eaters (voters).  The Rothschild coven uses wimpy whore pols as bait.

Machistic clowns, having no respect for these fag monkeys, may walk into the necromancer’s trap. Bilderberg meetings are a relentless ploy to placate the subservient pompous porcine fraternity, willingly or unwillingly, into their own annihilation along with the great unwashed. Unless the new Bastille is stormed, and the plasma-party proceeds, we are probably doomed along with our also-rans. Let’s not be doomed. Let’s be.

 

HOW TO BE A SUCCESSFUL SERIAL KILLER OF DOMESTIC CATS

by Larry Lee Slot

Domestic cats alone kill, annually, 4 billion birds and 22 million small mammals in the new USA. They are the principal culprit in many endangered species demise, destroying over 33 species of birds, mammals and reptiles of note. There are as many owned domestic cats (84 million) as there are their feral brothers and sisters. That cats rid your area of vermin like mice and rats is a myth. Cats do not like killing these pests.

They feel a political kinship. Cats are natural monsters that prefer killing baby birds, endangered voles and chipmunks to other pastimes. Planetary pests are cat-friendly. Nature Communications maintains that domestic cats are “the single greatest source of anthropogenic mortality for US birds and mammals”. Most cat people pretend that they are ignorant of how these killing machines impact the environment.

Cat owners feign moron status because they do not wish people to know that they are irresponsible eco-thugs and accessories to extinction. They would rather people found them deficient in mental capacity than they would lose their bloody little playmates. These eco-thugs are like people who offer to do you a favor and then neglect to do so when you accept their offer. When you inquire as to why they refrained from the responsibility they accepted, they say they forgot. They would rather you found them stupid than irresponsible.

They succeed only in your observing that they are both stupid AND irresponsible. So it is with cat owners. The fact that domestic cat owners are both sham AND actual morons should come as no surprise. Most cat owners are also voters.  No?! Bite your tongue!

It’s true! Studies have shown that cat owners actually do dive into the figurative ballot-box cesspool and VOTE! Virtually the entire world is aware that it is an act of blatant cowardice to vote but some just cannot refrain from the sordid practice.  Voters believe that their feigned imbecile status circumvents discovery of their heinous immorality. If found out, these near-imbeciles hide behind clichés, and they joke about their vile behavior.

Even the most callous of observers knows that (at the very least) pols deserve bullets between their eyes – not votes. How dare anyone say they do not know voting is an exercise in futility? How does one distort one’s own perception of reality enough to be able to avoid the knowledge that voting does nothing more than legitimize some treacherous villain’s usurpation of another’s sovereign rights? Voters use the “right to vote” nonsense as a miserable excuse for their treachery. They think we do not know how ineffectively they are at trying to justify their very obvious degeneracy & pusillanimity.

Imagine willfully choosing the most invidious form of vermin that exists to control your contingencies and being unaware of your perfidious behavior! Impossible! The stupidity level necessary to be so dull-witted is way beyond any sentient being’s credibility. Children are very credulous. Some even believe in Santa Claus and God. Perhaps a young child would believe it.

No. I can’t accept that people so horribly ignorant exist. It must be a lie. The entire world knows that killing pols, whenever they are observed peeking around another turd floating in the same cesspool, is a human responsibility. Only abject cowardice prevents its diurnal occurrence.

Except for the abortive Greek & Roman experiments, democracy as we suffer it is only a few hundred years old. Monarchies before their appearance have always been the rule. Yet, just possessing state power, no matter how it is acquired or applied, is ALWAYS a crime against humanity. Loyal subjects are only loyal because they are too ignorant to see outside the great hole in which state power has placed them. Democracy too is not yet seen by most of its victims as a ubiquitous force for evil.

Killing pols for recreation and profit has not yet become a part of our culture. It is a dangerous proclivity. Many people are of the opinion that life, no matter how squalid and sad, is too precious to risk in attempting barter for better. Nevertheless, it is as much everyone’s human responsibility to destroy pols as it is to destroy domestic cats. Most people find it only too easy to find excuses for neglecting to exercise their manhood in both areas.

Most American voters, therefore, if not cowardly shamming, are base, brutal, ignorant, demented, corrupt, or cruel. The correlation, therefore, between cat-loving and voting is quite understandable. Cat owners, (like other eco-thugs and pet-adoring maudlin macaques), pose as, or in actuality are, mentally deficient. Such mud-lovers like to anathematize cat murderers. Their futile attempt at rising from bottom-feeding to the high-road is somewhat less understandable.

Why is that? Substandard humans, i.e. voters, produce ever-growing hordes not only of cats but also the greatest enemies the human race has ever encountered – pernicious pols! Just who are these non-sentient creatures, called voting citizens of the USA, daring to curse decent humans?! Are they not a suicidal feedlot of base, ignorant, demented, effeminate cattle wanna-bes, husbanded by pig impersonators?  Take a good look at what they have produced with their invidious votes!

First, and foremost, the new US Government – a predatory totalitarian disinformation operation owned by the Fed, controlled by Israel, with aspirations to global control as precursor to global extinction. Second, the greatest armed criminal narco-terrorist state that the world has ever experienced. Third, the world’s most efficiently organized fascistic exterminators of decent human beings and their communities that exist. It would appear that voters are hell-bent to find success only in achieving the exact opposite of that objective for which they purport to vote.

Incredibly, penalties for killing cat lovers and pols are draconian. The human race’s priorities are all screwed up. Yet, when one considers what great benefits accrue to the planet incident upon a cat’s murder, penalties for killing cats per se are not all that high. Therefore, a person bent upon saving species, protecting planetary fauna, and irritating the mud-loving majority can do so without great risk. He need but make a strenuous effort to succeed at the serial killing of domestic cats.

There are many paths that lead toward accomplishing this virtuous deed. In all frankness, however, all of them do involve risk. One obviously does not wish to become a general hunter of wild animals. Sport hunters are savage little children that have carried their brutal psychopathy on into adulthood. For them, parturition frustrated ontogeny’s later stages of recapitulating phylogeny.

So, having long ago relinquished childhood brutality, many would-be domestic cat hunters, (if not base voters), are too decent to engage in hunting for sport.  Such personality features truncate the human’s diverse approaches to cat murder. The truly pragmatic purpose in armament ownership today is self-defense – repelling invasion. Pols are invaders. They are destroyers of peace, economies, and decency.

They also fear guns. The only valid purpose a voting licensed hunter serves is that he gives pols a plausible excuse to cut their own throat. How so? Pandering to constituents, pols are forced to render token support for the NRA. They must appear to be antagonistic to gun-control. They must be seen displaying a desire to protect the perpetuity of the US Constitution’s Second Amendment. As a bonus, hunters are also probably the only ones to exhibit sympathy should one’s cat-killing plans go awry.

As noted, today’s human is not usually well-versed in domestic cat-hunting skills. The novice quickly learns that poisons work. Unfortunately, poisons soon render diminishing returns as both domestic and feral cats become wise to the various baits, poisons (and their modus operandi). Also, biochemically-savvy cat-lovers have demanded ethylene glycol anti-freeze be contaminated with bitterness additives. Alas.

Cats are no longer fond of eating it. Before the treacherous bitterness additions ethylene glycol was as sure a cat-killing attractant as consumable sin is to a Christian. Now an amateur cat-murderer has to be satisfied with acetaminophen or assorted hunting tools like arrows, clubs, and homemade spears. Guns are too noisy. Ammunition is too expensive to use on vermin (except against lawyers & pols, of course).

Generic NSAIDS like aspirin work but, as with other poisons, domestic cats are getting wise to them. Also, you can’t disguise their presence by putting them in milk. Acetyl salicylic acid curdles the casein. Curds and whey may be effective for beguiling Miss Moffats. To feline prey, however, they are less attractive than unadulterated fresh milk.

Cats are very difficult to kill with a club alone. One blow usually does not suffice. They seem to take forever to start that repetitive gratuitous kicking, signifying the end is near. Most cat-cleaners have found that nine blows to the cat head (one per putative life) are necessary to effect permanent death. If the intended recipient has but one life, such as a mundane dog, lawyer, pol, or bankster, one blow usually suffices.

Cats are, supposedly, sycophants of the purported Lucifer. So, like the triscadeca Rothschild-cabal, they are tougher. At some time during those nine blows, it will fight like the veritable horned beast to survive. Such behavior may include attacking any proximal altruist. One must adapt.

Anyone familiar with Yanomami territory in Brazil or Venezuela will discover how cheap dart-tubes can be. They are also easy to fabricate. Once one is well-versed in accurate dart-blowing, the cat is easy prey. A little tobacco juice dried on the dart points will insure a speedy rapture. Such devices have sent many domestic cats to cat paradise and their rightful virgin “kitties”.

My personal preference in ridding an area of domestic cats is more sanguine. It requires a straight 2 meter long piece of 3/8 inch re-rod, and a sharp point is filed on it. The cat-creature’s only good aspect, natural curiosity, often betrays it and delays the beast’s chance to escape. Impaling the feline creature upon the rod’s point is done with dispatch. While the evil creature is futilely, trying to extract a foot or two of Fe rod firmly-entrenched in its impaled intestines you can bludgeon it to death with a nice piece of 1 inch dowel.

Initiation of spasmodic kicking indicates success. One less cat will be screaming at its competitors the entire night, destroying your nocturnal sleep, or killing baby birds & chipmunks. It has been noted that on occasion it is unnecessary to give the beast its entire prescribed or recommended nine blows. It may depend on broomstick bludgeon quality. Nevertheless, I usually find such tales to be specious rumor-mongering. Should one feel that less than nine is sufficient, I can only suggest giving it a few gratuitous whacks, until you deliver the standard nine. It is a safer course of action to take and the pleasure derived in each well-placed strike is well-worth the additional energy expended.

Never neglect one important step. Always dispose of the cat’s corpus delecti before a cat-lover discovers it. Should you forget this, getting caught with the evidence, you will be most embarrassed. As aforementioned, cat-lovers, not the brightest stars in the social sky, will insure it.  Simple shame may also escalate into confrontation with the unavoidable lawyer cess-pol vermin.

These planetary pests will then exercise the option of choosing between a prison stay for you and a fine for your altruistic peccado. In this regard, the desire for vengeance may rear its ugly head. We can but advise against killing the ignorant apprehending voter or his henchfellows (police, lawyer, pol, judge, etc.). Cat:Government:Law lovers are not cats, except perhaps figuratively (as all are alleged servants of Lucifer), and they wield weapons cats do not have. Those powers, controlling our contingencies, are also possessed by the ridiculous idea that they have value beyond that of fertilizer.

They are forever trying to convince everyone of it, using their joint and several bags of penal tricks. They do not always succeed.

 

THE TERRORISM GRADIENT

by Larry Lee Slot

Google defines terrorism as “the use of violence and intimidation in the pursuit of political aims”.

Having long since foresworn the efficacy of violence to gain any worthy objective, we can only conclude that terrorism is an unwanted aspect of the human condition. It must be reduced to a level which humanity considers acceptable. How shall we do this? It seems to be an insurmountable task. If I might be so bold . . . I think it is possible if we just take the problem in hand here and solve it.

First, we need to build a one to 1,000,000 graphic gradient line. The line will describe (to the discriminating few) those using terrorism the least at one end and those using terrorism the most at the other end. We can draw our 1,000,000 position line to allocate symbolically the various groups or individuals that cause the least on up to the most terror. Once this line is established, it will be a simple matter to decide how we shall remove the terror enthusiast from our midst. Roving bands of “terror police” can search out and destroy the heaviest devotees, eliminating “down-gradient” until only a comfortable level of terror remains extant (for scientific purposes).

At the light end of the gradient line we can add a healthy human baby, causing terror only in the minds of feminists and actually only in the event of its loss. At the heavy end of the gradient we can add the Rothschilds. This dynasty has caused far more terror than anything or anyone ever on the face of the Earth. Next to a baby we can add a normal healthy virgin girl. The girl’s tongue is perhaps just a slightly bit more apt to cause terror in anyone than a baby.

At the other end, in the penultimate position, we must add the Pope. This Rothschild cohort and miserable excuse for a human being, like Rothschild, is a caedere trillionaire and has advocated a New World Order to enslave the planet. He also pushes carbon taxes that will result in over a billion human deaths. Filling in the other positions are monsters such as the British Royal Family, Henry Kissinger, George Soros, the George Bushes, the Clintons, Obama, Netanyahu, etc. on and on down the monstrous profile.

Somewhere around the middle of the high-end to the gradient we must place the base American voting majorities. They placed these war criminals and genocides in the terror positions they hold. Currently, voter responsibility is quasi-obscured by a secret ballot. U.S. voting machines have been so well-corrupted of late, we also cannot waste our time taking these machines at face-value.  A peek at NSA data bases will easily discover how the cowardly demented fools voted.

By definition, using violence to achieve a terror-less objective is unacceptable. For this reason penitentiaries have long since been abandoned by our enlightened citizenry. Ergo, we must find a more benign way to destroy the perpetrators at the heavy end of the gradient. That is almost an impossibility. If I may be so bold, once again, as to suggest an alternative destruction method, I can do so.

I believe I have indeed solved that problem, one which gives the least opportunity for willful use of violence. Techniques exist that have been devised long ago for the eugenic removal of biological defectives and freaks in our midst. 4000+ genetic defectives do not belong in our Society. Down’s Syndromes, Cri du Chats, Hemophiliacs, Tay Sachs freaks, etc. are currently quickly and painlessly disposed of at birth or before, using a simple bite of the bamboo viper. Old people that do not have the human decency to die when they get sick, (and it becomes obviously necessary to do so), we also remove by this method.

My solution to the terror removal option is this: A “terror policeman” approaches a monster terrorist such as a Rothschild scion or the Pope, swiftly moving down the gradient to Henry Kissinger, George Soros, the George Bushes, the Clintons or Obamas and on and on. Each terrorist is asked if he would please come down to the Terror Bureau and get his injection-bite for the good of humanity. Very simple.

I’m sure these rejects and psychopaths are so reviled by and at their own existence that they will feel compelled by their own hearts to remove themselves. Assisting them in this is an obviating of all the psychological mess involved with suicide. My method would not only give sorely-needed jobs to those who qualify as “terror-police”, but it will also create a new industry – the care and husbandry of bamboo vipers.

Let us never forget: There are only two occupations to which a man of dignity will apply his mind: 1. Biosustainability (Planetary custodianship) and 2. The Destruction of the State. These occupations need not be mutually exclusive.

 

Zio +

By Larry Lee Slot

The Ultimate Solution to Rothschild World Hegemony

Death of the Dynasty

The story of the only weapon that was ever effective in combating the Rothschild pestilence.

 

December 12, 2051

 

Café Padilla,

Puerto de la Cruz,

Tenerife,

Las Canarias,

Espana

 

Jacob Schloss is sitting at the littoral-most table, overlooking the breakers crashing onto the island’s rocky coast.  He sips at his Portulaca tea. Then, he takes one of the pappas arrugadas, sitting in a bowl in front of him, and pops it into his mouth. Ruminating on his work, he speaks into a small recording device. “Fiat currency is not the culprit. Nor even is it fractional banking if controlled by high transparency. The entire population must benefit. When either is connected to a banking dynasty, like that of the Rothschild’s, these money schemes become nothing less than crimes against humanity.”

A waiter brought him a glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice and Jacob said more. “Whether the Rothschilds descended from Khazars or are actually Sephardic Jews is immaterial. The Rothschilds have figuratively raped everyone, literally murdering both Gentiles & Semites along with countless other sequences of exotic DNA, deploying their economic depravity and interminable wars in a multitude of ways. Until recently, only the dynasty’s own bloodline seemed virtually immune from Rothschild exploitation and mayhem.”

Jacob smiled and recorded more. “The evidence is there – facts are ample. Beyond doubt, the Bauer cum Rothschild family has behaved unconscionably.  Each generation returns chiral images of former inhuman monster forbears. A fully-informed and empowered population would never have allowed them to exist for even one second. They are a diabolical plague and cannot be tolerated. How to get rid of these devils, 15 years ago, was the paramount question, as it had been for ages. Tribunals were impotent against them for nearly 300 years.”

Looking out over the evening shadows on the crashing waves, he continued. “The Rothschilds possessed those legal tribunals as they owned the media and virtually all the world’s governments. They owned the Vatican and its billion superstitious slaves. They owned every single U.S. citizen. On April 15, each year, all Americans pusillanimously rendered illegal & immoral tribute to these bloodthirsty terrorists. Should a citizen display some manhood, refusing to genuflect, withholding tribute, as I did, they faced hard slavery during cruel imprisonment. The ersatz-state of Israel, before it was bombed out of existence, was but an extended microcosm of the Khazarian planetary farm. It raped and pillaged countless countries, bringing even the great USA to its knees.  Rothschild money and its derived power controlled EVERYTHING!  . . . . BUT. . . . .NO MORE! . . . . . . .NO MORE!”

 

Jacob Schloss is a white octoroon. He grew up in a backwater region of the Jew-nited States’ Bible Belt. There was nothing spectacular about him. The one thing that was unforgettable about Jacob, however, as he grew older, was his hatred of insufferable bores and beggars. He could abide neither and made his antipathy show, very obviously.

Beneath his pale exterior there now beats a vindictive heart in a Semitic Anglo-Saxon body. Why vindictive? It’s a long and sad story. As young Jacob sat on the hardwood floor of his family’s home on a Michigan sorghum farm, he listened to his French secular Jewish mother. He learned much from her. She taught him to read, write, do math and speak some Yiddish.

She also told him of how Rothschild, a Khazarian Jew, using a half-bred Austrian descendant, murdered millions of other Semites in WWII European concentration camps. It was a vile ploy to force the populating of his cheap waterless Palestine desert hell. He either gassed to death or scared most European Jews into emigrating there.  It was not just that monstrous crime, though, that made Jacob an enemy of the 666 clan. It was not even Jacob’s discovery that all wars since the late 18^th century were caused by (even boasted of) the Rothschilds.

No, it wasn’t that. It was his own slave-status in the Jew World Order. Every April 15, filling out his tax forms, he was forced into figuratively giving his blood to the Rothschild’s Federal Reserve Central Bank. It made Jacob hate the fiendish family more every year. Once, (about 20 years prior to his sitting now in Café Padilla), when he tried to avoid paying April 15^th tribute to the Zionist leeches, they put him in jail. They called his crime income tax evasion. In reality, it was an abortive attempt at misleading Rothschild’s protection-racket enforcers.

Ramifications springing from that illegal and immoral loss of his freedom made Jacob irrevocably bitter. He swore that one day he would get even with the world’s foremost slaveholders. Jacob made the extermination of the Rothschild dynasty his mission in life. After leaving prison, he brooded in a small Boston flat for nearly a year on the idea.

He knew it would never do to simply start assassinating Rothschilds or their genetic relatives. Getting the extant Rothschilds and their richest cohorts removed from the planet would only be a start, an impecunious beginning at best.  There was such an extended family, intermingled with so many other Khazar and Sephardic bloodlines, the task seemed insurmountable. Genotypes were not always visible as phenotypes. Early on Jacob learned that finding the genotype was the first step to eradication.  For one man, it could easily become a meaningless exercise in futility. These 666 vultures even put their seed in common Gentile wombs. They later used the offspring, as they did with Adolf Schickelgruber, in venal “advantageous-to-family” positions.  Rothschild-contaminated DNA was virtually ubiquitous.  666 DNA served as Achilles’ heels to missioned humanity.  Moles & Manchurian Candidates were hypothetically everywhere.

Similarly, Jacob felt it was no answer to stew ineffectively in a flat all his life. Only to one day explode in some random act of gratuitous violence. So, what was he to do?

In furtherance of his ultimate objective, he entered a University. Jacob reasoned that becoming familiar with history and economics might aid him in his quest for vengeance. He thought such a curriculum might also lead him to some path that would make each step of his mission more pellucid. It did indeed, but not as he originally thought.

He discovered that accepted history was mostly a pack of lies, vindicating Rothschild’s and others’ crimes. Economics was a way of studying euphemisms and principles necessary for financial interests to legitimize theft. Both these disciplines worked synergistically to generate rationalizations for lawyers & pols to exploit humanity with impunity.

Then, in an elective biology course, he found out just what it was he needed to hear. There, nearly 17 years prior to sitting in the Puerto de la Cruz restaurant, he learned. There was a chance, infinitesimally small but, a chance that he might indeed ultimately succeed in his mission. If all went as planned, he could actually ferret out and destroy his enemy’s entire bloodline. Every single descendant, no matter how obscure, of Mayer Amschel Bauer (Rothschild) 1744-1812 and Gutle Schnapper (Rothschild) 1753-1849, his wife, could actually be destroyed.

He knew he would never be able to rid the world of Rothschilds without ridding the world of every single aspect of Rothschild DNA connectedness. As Jacob’s single-minded hatred grew, so did his education.

The task would not be easy. It was fraught with 1000 chances for total failure. At any point along the path he might confront an impasse. Some dead end could make all his time, risk and even the dream go up in smoke. Young Jacob knew he was about to embark on a task that had every possibility of ultimately landing him in prison again or on skid row.

Nevertheless, he changed his major to Biology with heavy emphasis on math, chemistry, and physics and entered MIT. Jacob discovered, working in the biology discipline, that acquiring Rothschild-specific DNA, nearly an impossible task, was unconditionally necessary to his objective. To be absolutely comprehensive in his genetic quest he would need DNA from the sleek original brute, Mayer Amschel Bauer, himself. Unfortunately for young Jacob, Rothschild DNA is not listed as one of the advertised bugs in the ATCC!   How could he accomplish such a task, rob the fiend’s grave?! Actually . . . Yes, the patriarch himself!

The Rothschild clan is the biggest criminal organization the world has ever known. As such, their security is the security of great criminals. It is, therefore, much more creative than police (common-critic) safety. Perhaps for this reason the Rothschild security people are much more professional and competent than ex-military political secret-service agents. Notwithstanding this, Jacob was prepared to challenge it.

If he could get the funds, obtaining Rothschild DNA was an operation with which Jacob was all set to go forward. It was to be one of his first steps. First: Get some money. Second: Get some of the mutant corpse’s DNA. DNAses in the cadaver would have long since obliterated anything resembling intact Mayer Amschel Bauer patriarch DNA.

Jacob knew that getting nuclear and mitochondrial DNA from Gutle’s body would be essential too. It would probably be equally degraded. Was that grave-locked DNA erased beyond the point of possible copying? Who knew? He needed genomic DNA of the last few heads of the Rothschild scions’ families as well.

Third: He would need to clone billions of copies of the gathered DNA just to get the specific 666 DNA he required. Not being a professional grave-robber, Young Jacob had no experience with the recondite techniques involved. Even if the DNA acquisition problem could be solved, he would need a lot of money to clone-copy and sequence it.  How would a poor student & ex-con find such resources?

 

Old Jacob took another sip of tea, smiling to himself as he remembered how overly simple his plan of 17 years ago was. Perhaps overestimating the simplicity back then was fortunate. If he knew so long ago how difficult it was going to be he might never have attempted it. Nearly 240 years had passed since 1812 and the death of that mutant wild pig Mayer Amschel Bauer.

Young Jacob needed a marker that was distinctive for all the progeny of Mayer and Gutle. He would call that marker the Zion Gene or zio+. In order for that marker to exist, Gentiles and non-Bauer-Rothschild Jews would have to be zio -. Therefore, robbing graves for pieces of cadavers, DaVinci style, was an essential step in eradicating all vestiges of the Rothschild Disease. How could Jacob do that?

Young Jacob needed sufficient DNA copies to construct a Southern transfer gel that would give him an exact zio+ marker for anyone with extant Rothschild genetics. He needed to create a test that could be given, surreptitiously, to every single apparent human being on the planet. Unlike with the HIV tests scam, he could not countenance any false positives or false negatives. Something more than just conning and exploiting innocent victims of Big Pharma with unnecessary anti-retrovirals and protease inhibitors was involved. If any crucial homology existed on the zio+ Southern Transfer ladders with the Bauer-Rothschild family, that testee must be summarily exterminated.

HIV tests are simple stratagems to deceive unsuspecting hedonists. A “positive” test result scares perfectly healthy people into paying for chemical extortion and eventually compromising their own health for the benefit of Bill Gates et al.  Jacob’s tests also could not mimic one of the thousands of other pharmaceutical frauds that medical doctors push for their Big Pharma masters.  Manufacturers of cancer drugs like DNA analogs, chain terminators, etc. immediately come to mind. The industry does so enjoy imposing them on desperate patients and their unsuspecting loved ones.

Jacob was a zealot, and he believed that zio+ Rothschild DNA, outside a laboratory, could never be allowed to exist again. At the very most, it must survive only as the Variola virus does, enthralled to scientific purposes only in laboratories. Young Jacob didn’t want to let even the memory of these mutant fiends remain as role models for other sub-humans. He did Poisson cumulative distributions. Jacob reasoned that if he was successful in taking out all zio+ containing DNA, he would then remove all mention of them from every database ANYWHERE.

The math was not encouraging. It would be too daunting a task, and he put it on the back burner. Immediate or eventual extermination of zio+ became his single-minded objective. The living planet and the human race stood a good chance of being destroyed because of that family of soul-sucking vipers. These were not petty Hitlers, Stalins, Maos, Pol Pots or Bushes – understudies, wanna-bes.

The full extent of all the crimes and suffering the Rothschild family caused cannot even be imagined. Jacob felt he could never cavalierly relinquish his heart-felt responsibility to protect posterity from them. Having come thus far, suffering so much at their hands, to neglect to destroy them AND THEIR MEMORY forever, he felt, would be unconscionable.  He dreamed about confronting each person with either Rothschild or fascistic tendencies. Anyone having risen to a position of prominence must expect to submit to his zio+ homolog tests. The test would determine if venality had somehow entered into the previous testing regimen.

“How had a Rothschild-Bauer-Schnapper zio+ homolog survived the former examination?” They would ask.

The circumstances surrounding the venality would be rigidly investigated.  Perpetrators would be sent the way of the Rothschild. Young Jacob knew he would need to destroy thousands of zio+ homologs before he could even start to feel he was making progress. Only then could he take heart or feel any degree of confidence that he would ultimately eliminate the last vestiges of the Rothschild plague. First, he needed to be successful in finding a zio+ gene and make progress toward its elimination on the planet. Then, he could move on into other rapacious dynastic DNAs. Later versions of similar genomic DNA tests would be created for the Rothschild-Clone Royal Families.

Those later genomes would be easier. Many zio+ hybrids-with-other (banking) families would be eliminated with the zio+, Jacob was sure. Humanity’s elite fascist enemies are incestuous and interrelated. Unlike Mayer’s dying wish, most caedere-rich illuminati, like kings & 666s, have become largely all bastards. That does not make them any less dangerous than the purebreds.

They are all like presidents, prime ministers, etc. inflated pols – sublimely ignorant of everything that makes life wonderful & worthwhile. All have fallen under Entropy’s spell of species dissolution. They know how to gain, keep & manipulate the illusion of brutal death-dealing power and little else. Riding the flailing garden hose of unbridled avarice, these “creatures of lucre have a great abyss at their center, where other people have souls. It is obvious to the most casual of observers.

That abyss is sociopathically adorned circumferentially with psychopathy. Rav Aloirav and Beltover Sprunkline discovered that these spiritual black holes, miserable excuses for humanity, have a constitutive at-av-neg savagery deletion lesion in their DNA. Some feel this is partly where the human soul is found in at-av-pos people. Porcine-fraternity families like Bruce, Cavendish – Kennedy, De Medici, Hanover, Hapsburg, Krupp, Plantagenet, Rockefeller, Romanov, Saint Clair – Sinclair, del Banco Warburg, del Banco Schiff, del Banco Oppenheimer, Windsor-Saxe-Coburg-Gotha (Merovingian), Russell, Astor, Bundy, Collins, DuPont, Freeman, Li, Onassis, Reynolds, Van Duyn, Disney, McDonald, etc. were all homozygous for the at-av-neg-deletion mutation. Young Jacob speculated on the hypothesis that savage financial aggression, (represented in all these porcine dynasties), was a cohesive trait.

Such a condition indicated to him that there was a good chance the zio+ marker would be found near the at-av-neg-deletion site, or at least on the same chromosome. Only one man in the entire world, Ravmond Aloirav, had actually cloned the linear DNA flanking sequences for that deletion mutation. He also possessed a wild type at-av-pos gene. Getting a copy of the deletion flanks of linear DNA or an at-av positive wild type gene from Rav Aloirav was a wild dream of young Jacob. It would propel him along the quest as if it primed his pump.

Unfortunately, he did not know how to find Ravmond Aloirav. Jacob did not really feel certain that the man actually existed. Instead, he asked himself, “What are the characteristics of this mutation?”

Young Jacob often speculated on it. Old Jacob found the answer to that question in the following key descriptive phrase for the soul-less at-av-neg mutant: “When the man no longer has money but money has the man.”

Imagine, if you can, the capacity for finding the insatiable desire, will, and energy to sublimate an entire life to the unaccountable tendency to accumulate billions of fiat ciphers. Then, when one has billions of such virtually meaningless digits, one gives chase after even more of them. Every passing year means more accumulated digits and less potential life.

An unbiased man of compassion would say. “What a terrible fate. These unfortunates can only but watch their lives become widgets, small pieces of paper on multi-layered bank statements. Then, after a few short years of meaningless torment, condemned to death as with all of us, they lose it all. Most of us learn how to be human, find our condition, our mission, during the interim. The soul-less at-av-negs never do. Wandering subhuman wraiths, they chase insignificant paper digits, until they dissolve into the impenetrable ether. A horrible disease, an incredibly cruel destiny, is this great hole in them.”

Old Jacob, thinking about such matters, and his own sentiments, quoted Elboruh Lebensrau another freedom-fighter. “Not by chance is that invented god of many of them, J.H. Christ, a purported zombie. Everything beautiful, everything that counters the ugly dust of debris in meaningless motion, has no value to them. These soul-less beasts dance, figuratively, in step with Brownian movement. Unless they discover a financial angle, they oppose healthy people, ecosystems and ideas, with their stochastic abandon. They are the unexamined channels, forcing others into institutionalized ignorance, dementia, and death.

They, like the fascist Pope, represent the major opposition to true spirituality, salubrious eugenics, euthanasia, biosustainability, education and civilization. They look only to exploit and destroy. They develop as much a tolerance for lucre as religionists do for collective psychoses or junkies do for cocaine or heroin. They will never learn their error unassisted. They will never stop feeding mental, physical and spiritual poison to the planet.

These toxic fascists, with their communist-socialist sophistry tools, will organize to enslave and murder humanity, until they have either caged all of us, (for a diurnal milking), or we kill them all first. We must recycle every last one of them. It will not happen without tremendous risk, and we may ultimately fail to rid the planet of them. Our enemies may win and be damned to oblivion along with us, resting in the same coffin. But Nature is not defeated by our defeat. She still has options. We are only part of many. Others will go on without us. What will die, if we fail, is our own footprint in the sand, our species, and our closest taxonomic relatives. That is what must make us sad and angry. How can we turn our backs on the survival of our species and the friends of our species? We must resist, defying our fascist-leaning totalitarian society at all costs. Democracy, the effective rule of mobs and madness, has failed us. Deep down we always knew it would. How could it do otherwise? Mob values, the natural result of entropy and the voluntary result of fascist thieves’ & murderers’ manipulations, have devastated us. There is no continuity in benevolent dictatorships, and they also have failed us. There is no valid authority, toward which we can turn.  Totalitarianism a la 1984 has arrived worldwide. To prevail, we must survive to kill all the fascists.”

Old Jacob looked down at the sole imitation sardine smiling up at him from the pappas arrugadas and said. “We cannot stop with just the Rothschilds et al. We cannot even stop after cleaning the planet of at-av-negs. We have no choice if we wish human evolution to triumph. We must institutionalize the recycling of all these vicious immoderate lives. It is our . . . humanity’s, only chance for survival. To oppose fascistic society and kill one’s vile also-ran is not wrong if it is in the spirit of survival. Why? Because, the capacity exists as a Natural gift. To judge these vermin is wrong. Why? Because Nature has not given anyone that capacity. It is arrogance unrestrained to assume that right. Fortunately, we need not judge them to kill them. Intuitively, by their actions we know our enemies mean our enslavement and death. They feel no shame in using sado-masochistic maniac moron symbols, (Jehovah, Yahweh, Allah, Lucifer, Saturn, Satan, etc.), as their weapons against us, and their justifications for our enslavement.”

 

The quasi-universal hatred between Jews and other races intrigued Jacob since he was a little boy.  His mother was of the French Dan tribe persuasion and his father descended from a pied noir Berber.  He could deny neither the gift of his mother’s schnozz nor his ethnic Semitic roots. The reprehensible penis-biting, Gentile-genocidal, raving rabbinical religious aspect he did deny and as vehemently as he did the beliefs and rituals connected with Christianity.  He found all control-freak, death-worshipping, racist, superstitions anathema.

The brutally savage books like the Talmud, Torah, Bible and Koran, he felt, must be repugnant to any civilized sentient being. Only superstitious irresponsible cowards could actually believe such nonsense. Unfortunately, very few sentient beings exist among the Homo genus. Subhumans overwhelmingly preponderate. Jewish’ Yahweh, Christian’ Jehovah, Muslim’ Allah, and Rothschild’s Satan are all representative textbook psychopaths. These contrived demented monsters are probably specialized symbolic depictions. They are intended to justify early Semitic at-av-neg savagery’s ultra-aggression as well as the latter brutal zio+ Jewish organized crime.

Jews, especially the Rothschild Khazar derivative, number among the most racist creatures that have ever existed.  The characteristic ethnocentricism is perhaps as much genetic as Talmudic. The genetic aspect, as explained in part by the at-av-neg deletion, is located on a lesion electrostatically connected to the same strand as avarice defense in Homo chromosomes. As we look deeply into the human and subhuman genome, we find a disproportionately large group in a particular subset of Homo (Khazar Jewish) that is possessed by this at-av deletion mutation.  When persons, like Rothschild, Rockefeller, Krupp, Astor, Gates, Buffet, etc. have their genomes sequenced they discover that they are all at-av-neg deletion mutants.

Such unfortunate beings refuse or are incapable, the world over, of behaving as civilized beings. The deletion mutation robs these ill-fated fiends of a 90kd enzyme that controls their ethnocentric atavistic avaricious predilections, i.e. political aggression. Everywhere this at-av-neg deletion subset of Homo goes they give lip-service to philanthropy, egalitarianism etc., but they wreak savage elitist havoc. Most at-av-pos (w.t.) races try to be civilized. They, half-heartedly, contain their ethnocentricism or aggressive propensities.

The at-av-neg deletion subset is forever trying to subjugate the world to personal or tribal will, using force or the pressure of caedere wealth. If it cannot do so with money, it does so with violence or extortion. They blame every crime on god’s will or their innocent at-av-pos w.t. victims. After joyfully slitting the throats of a score of children and disemboweling Palestine mothers of their babies, at-av-neg Jew Menachim Begin, receiving the world’s justified condemnation (and Nobel Peace Prize), is taken aback.

“How could this be?” He asks. “Don’t they realize, (after the holocaust) that WE are ALWAYS the victims, and the dead mothers & babies were the aggressors?”

Anyone who has ever been in a pre-law or pre-med program can attest to the at-av-neg’s brutal uncontrolled and uncontrollable aggression. A goal, even as small as a fraction of a grade point, takes on a vital force of its own. In the business world, an at-av-neg will act in any way necessary; use any tool, to gain the smallest advantage over another. Swindling the goy out of the meanest fraction of a shekel is an at-av-neg Jewish religious principle. Their aggression, like other at-av-neg mutants, is boundless and absolutely incapable of control.

At-av-neg ethnocentricism in business is legendary. At-av-neg Jews victimize 1000 times more Gentiles than they have ever been victimized by Gentiles. Despite labeling every non-Jew as a racist, screaming about Jewish victimhood (a la the highly-suspect holocaust event), there are no greater racists or anti-Semites than at-av-neg Jews. Pause exists, of course, in the cases of at-av-neg pseudo-Gentiles like Gates, Buffet, etc. If their DNA were to be sequenced there is every possibility that it would prove to consist primarily of Jewish nucleic acids.

At-av-neg Jewish aggression does not manifest only toward Gentiles. Palestinians and some orthodox Jews can be at-av-pos (w.t.) genetic Jews. This is quite obvious after observing the incompetence of the anti-at-av-neg Jews at organized violence and corruption of arbiters. Jews gain Nobel prizes at 100 times the rate of what Gentiles do. They are in position of power and prestige in crime, banking, communications, media, government, and entertainment 100 times as often as Gentiles.

Is it all due to superior Jewish intelligence, culture and conduct? Perhaps.

Is it because their holy books glorify gang-style racist savagery? Perhaps.

Could it be due to uncivilized & uncontrollable aspects in the at-av-neg Jewish nature?  Perhaps.

At-av-neg Jews react to world criticism, ostensibly spending millions of Gentile & at-av-pos Jewish exploited dollars on meaningless imbecilic act of philanthropy. They can’t seem to understand that the two bizarre gestures, taken in juxtaposition, do not exculpate. They but exemplify the nature of the human caricature that is an at-av-neg mutant. In the case of the Jew, the caricature is as damaging a badge analogously to at-av-pos (w.t.) Jews as the aggressive nose on the Jewish face or the alienating beanie. Psychological sophistry and the preponderance of Jewish media’s political indoctrinations notwithstanding, anti-Semitism, Jacob discovered, is mainly the result of painting stereotypically all Jews with the brush of at-av-neg mutantcy.

Incapacity to collaborate civilly with ANYONE, unless an ascendant supremacy, conducive to unilateral success is expected, is virtually a universal trait among at-av-negs. It seems to be the rule with extremely successful caedere wealthy everywhere. Zionist Jews are 100% at-av-neg deletion mutants. They have been genociding or discriminating against at-av-pos w.t. Semites since long before 1947, the recognized creation-date of Rothschild’s Israel – Zion.

In the vernacular, on an individual basis, at-av-neg deletion mutants are known as assholes. Assholery is a vibrant characteristic held by practitioners of jungle law.  They use the following to a much greater extent than non-predatory humans: 1.Camouflage (cheating), 2.unbridled aggression, 3.avarice, 4.leveraging EVERYTHING & EVERYONE, 5.ethnocentricism, and 6.unscrupulousness (Written Law). These are coincidentally also very successful character attributes for the accumulation of obscene amounts of money & power. If accident of birth has not blessed one, these particular predatory behaviors almost always result in financial and political success.

As with the rh-neg locus, the at-av-neg deletion gene is a late-arriver in Homo’s evolution. What has retarded the at-av-neg deletion locus’ reproductive success or made it fall into near disuse? Hardly .01% of the genus Homo is possessed by this devastating birth defect. It appears to be highly selected for, and yet it is not. Money and power are indeed ubiquitously perceived as selection positives, are they not?

Actually, no. Biologically, overwhelming numbers of species members constitutes reproductive success. How have the at-av-pos (w.t.) enzyme holders gained such superiority in numbers? Why does the at-av-neg phenotype not present an evolutionary plus? How does money and power actually confer a general weakness on the holding members of the species? Discounting the contentious Jew-exculpatory mumbo-jumbo of Hebrew psychologists, we might consider the deleterious effect that at-av-neg Jewish predation has had on Jewish reproductive success via world population pressure.

One must admit that, despite sparse individually successful Jews, the at-av-neg deletion mutation has had a tremendous negative impact on total Jewish subspecies selection. Nearly every country in the world has at one time or another thrown these people out on their ears or run them through an ethnic cleansing machine. The entire Jewish race is painted with a negative broad-brush because of a few Jewish predators.

Generally, Homo over-population stress has caused disproportionately more homosexuals to come into the world than entered a thousand years ago. Now, along with an artificial general quasi-acceptance of the noxious perversion, numbers have diminished much of the need for hiding behind facades (in the closet).  Penis-biting rabbis need no longer obfuscate their sexual dementia by writing twisted justifications for their human travesty in the Talmud, Torah and Bible. Hollywood does it for them.

The brutal Torah & Talmud serve as additional keys to at-av-neg Jewish financial success. The sick religion has gone a long ways toward institutionalizing rampant at-av-neg Jewish aggression.  These three primers-of-perversion also offer other justifications for at-av-neg mutant savagery.  Jews display social insularity and widespread racism as justification for “desired” non-assimilation. If voluntary, it is certainly working because they are almost universally hated and ostracized by at-av-pos (w.t.) civilized humanity.

In the case of demented at-av-neg mutant Nelson Mandela, post-necklacing photos were largely overlooked by the world. This oversight was probably caused by the entire world discounting black lives due to their gross deficiencies in human intelligence. Despite some specious testing results there is no observable interval in intelligence between white humans and Jews. Consequent derived antipathy directed toward extensive Jewish tribal aggression accumulates as poignant memories in the Gentile psyche. The Jews enjoy ample genocidal behavior, directly and through proxies, in the Middle East and North Africa today.

Except for a small subset of hopelessly ignorant U.S. Christians, the world is once-again beginning to feel that, despite the dubious “holocaust”, at-av-neg Jews have not paid enough for their past crimes against humanity.  Crimes & atrocities, prostituting and enslaving, blacks, Britain & the USA, selling white women as sexual slaves, and corrupting human cultural values sows seeds of hate. A poignant scenario of an actual holocaust comes to mind. One can almost smell a genuine impending pogrom on the “chosen people”.

“How blind are these people?” Old Jacob asked himself.  “Why can they not police their predatory fellows?! Can they not see how draconian responses result as but backlash to at-av-neg mutant Jewish capital savagery? Israel’s latest attempt at imposing insanity on the planet is Rothschild’s Jew World Government. It is being foisted on humanity as the Jew World Order, based on the Bible’s Law of Loco (at-av-neg mutant symbol – Yahweh.)”

“Why can they not see that they are positioning themselves for another Rothschild-engendered cataclysm? Willful blindness is a powerful cerebral capacity and is virtually always used to the detriment of the wielder. At-av-neg Jews feel they have divinity within them – an actual soul. It’s as if they were Gentiles or healthy at-av-pos (w.t.) Jews. How do they formulate such warrantless ideas?”

“Soul-less at-av-neg mutants are all like maladjusted teen-aged orphans, perennially wishing for parents. The at-av-neg Jew displays for all to see his great paucity of humanity. These people’s insatiable craving for caedere symbols and political power knows no bounds. Hegemony over their fellows to initiate groveling is of paramount importance to them. They ever seek to analyze but seldom seem to synthesize.”

“There is an abyss, a hiatus, a dearth in them, which seemingly can never be filled. At-av-neg Jewish greed is just one example. At-av-neg philanthropy is another. Like other soul-less subhumans, i.e. Alan McKim, Bill Gates, Warren Buffet, J.P. Morgan, J.D. Rockefeller, etc., the at-av-neg Jews need to caricature themselves in human qualities they can only but imagine are theirs. If they did not do so they would not appear human at all.”

“They cannot see themselves except as reflected in the minds of their betters, those who are less satiated with symbols of caedere wealth. The at-av-neg Jew is no more human than is a microcephalic, a trisomy 21, a cri-du-chat, or a lawyer-pol.”

“Designated species naturally find alien creatures to be inimical.  An old female Tierra Del Fuegoan gossiping trouble-maker was hunted down by the tribe to her destruction and consumption. Such responses seem to come naturally to Homo.”

“My own creations,” old Jacob thought, “(the zio+ tests, the zio+ receptor-seeking virus, and the zio+ exfoliation signals) will soon dissolve the Rothschild family tree. Someday all at-av-neg mutants may be hunted down and destroyed, exactly the same way zio+ possession is now. It will not be an easy task. There are many phenotypes of the at-av-neg mutation. It may be on multiple chromosomes in some subhumans.”

“The at-av-neg mutant understands this desire in human nature to hunt down and destroy troublemakers and predators. At-av-negs have, consequently, become accumulator hostile in their own defense. They have constructed Nation States, Written Law, tribunals and court-systems, etc. Rothschild and his indentured thugs (as well as the plethora of other successful at-av-neg mutants) commit monstrous crimes against humanity with very little thought. It is as if they were merely ordering a cup of coffee. Witness one Rothschild sycophant, Madeleine Albright, and her response to being questioned on why she colluded in starving and burning to death a million Iraqi children.”

“She said. “It was worth the price”. “

“What price, Madeleine? What was it you purchased with a million innocent souls!? A nod from Rothschild?! More fiat currency or caedere wealth? You purchased DEATH, bitch! The negativity that pours forth in Entropy’s dust, nothing more!”

Exactly the same response for similar crimes came from the Obama anathema, and over a century prior, another Rothschild lackey, Heinrich Himmler, gave it. Currently accepted, subsequently condemned, victims of a century past have now returned as perpetrators. Only Rothschild remains, unscathed, to scorn his prey.

“But not for long,” Jacob said, looking out over the Tenerife breakers toward Gomera. “My constructs are eating away at you and your vile seed. It won’t be long and the name Bauer-Rothschild will be as unknown to the world as a speck of dust in a whirlwind.”

“Imagine having to define oneself while thinking only of one’s own self?” Jacob said. “As an at-av-neg mutant, without the luxury of comparison, how can one even begin to do so? Look at Jewish heroes – King David, Judith, Trotsky, Ben Gurion, Sharon, Kissinger, Shamir, Rabin, Peres, Begin, Soros, Marx, Lenin, Stalin, and Netanyahu. Such poor deluded savages never had anything more than an ersatz mockery of a soul. They symbolize their desire as a chiral reflection of their insane god, at-av-neg Yahweh-Jehovah.”

With his criminal and academic record, it had not been easy for young Jacob, to get accepted at MIT. Since it was considered the best University in the world, it was where he chose to go. Despite the token gadfly Noam Chomsky, MIT had a very high Jewish population in all levels. Some skillful paperwork geniuses, relying heavily on Jacob’s Jewish background, using some carefully crafted IOUs, got him in the door. What was more important than the Course 7 in which he enrolled was the privileged access to MIT’s library.

Even better than the Boston Public Library, scholarly papers were meticulously ordered and protected. Here, when he wasn’t studying for the highly subjective essay exams or being quizzed on his Jewish analytical reasoning ability, he spent most of his free time. Papers by the great molecular biologist, Rav Aloirav, were, unfortunately, not located here. The Aloirav archives were located at an underground depository in Hotel Aloirav’s subterranean cavern in Maranhao, Brazil. Only persons personally known to Lester Frye (the architect of Heaven) or Rav Aloirav could gain access to them.

The most extensive and comprehensive research files in the world, to date, on Rothschild-Rockefeller subhuman DNA were located in this cavern. In addition to such information, there were lyophilized at-av-neg & pos DNA samples, linear and cloned. DNA libraries of cloned Cavendish, Hapsburg, Krupp, Plantagenet, Romanov, Saint Clair – Sinclair, del Banco Warburg, del Banco Schiff, del Banco Oppenheimer, Astor, Bundy, Collins, DuPont, Li, Reynolds, and Van Duyn DNA were also in residence, frozen in glycerol-EDTA solution at liquid nitrogen temperatures, in huge Revco freezers.

Young Jacob was an unknown person, falsified just enough to gain access to MIT’s student body. His MIT persona really did not technically exist in the real world. His birth certificate was created out of thin air similar to one of Rothschild’s Federal Reserve Notes. He certainly did not exist sufficiently to even hope to gain an Aloirav right-of-access to the New Society’s germ repository and Pontibus library. So, Jacob maintained himself day after day in a state of assiduous work and patience. He slept in the Student Union Library on the Cambridge Campus at night and studied all day. For privacy and to protect his private matters, Jacob lived in an abandoned brownstone shell in Roxbury near Dorchester’s Boston Hospital.

There, he kept his books, papers and discarded fruits, vegetables & rotten cheeses he picked up at the Haymarket near Faneuil Hall. The small amounts of food, Jacob stored there, kept well enough in the winter. He had no way of keeping the ambient cold from entering his Spartan plaster-lathed shelter. In the summer, however, he needed to make more trips to the Haymarket for food. The sun’s heat on the gray slate roof could rot his food overnight.

It was not an ideal situation, and he was forever on the edge of vagrancy charges. One night after Jacob cooked some potatoes with an open fire, using plaster wood lathe, the Boston Fire Department came crashing in on him. Someone saw a wisp of smoke crawling over the Massachusetts Avenue row house’s slate roof and turned in a fire alarm. They almost caught the young miscreant in flagrante delicto.

One summer day, young Jacob was on his way to the Haymarket. He happened to stop before the McCormick Federal Court House Building in Boston. Curious as to how Rothschild injustice was sold to the world, Jacob entered the building. He passed through the metal-detectors and biometric machines along with everyone else. Fortunately, MIT was in recess, and Jacob was carrying his true identity papers.

The biometric machines immediately detected him as a former Federal penitentiary inmate. Guards brought him to the Provost Office. They hassled Jacob there for a while but ultimately released him. He immediately began wandering through the large crowded hallways, climbing the stairs to the assorted courtrooms.

In one courtroom on the 7^th floor he saw a Federal judge giving a Rothschild case a thorough whitewash at the behest of a 666 sycophant’s lawyer. It intrigued Jacob enough to protect his face from the security cameras while he watched the proceedings. After memorizing the crooked judge’s face, Jacob turned to do the same with the Zionist’s lawyer. As the case recessed, undoubtedly to make time for more money or influence to be paid to the judge, the parties filtered out the great double doors. Jacob made his own way to the Haymarket to finish his “shopping”.

A year after that courtroom experience Jacob left MIT. He felt he knew enough biology and genetic engineering technology to achieve his goals. Being a scientist, enslaved to at-av-neg publishing mills for subsistence, or living the life of a professional scholar was not his interest. If well-funded he could apply the necessary molecular biological techniques where they would do him the most good. Now, he knew, it was time to work and risk.

First on his agenda was getting the necessary funds to make a raid on the grave of Mayer Amschel Bauer and that of his wife. They had separate burial sites on Jüdischer Friedhof Battonnstraße, Frankfurt am Main, Frankfurter Stadtkreis in Hessen, Germany. Jacob made a visit to those graves once while he was a student. Mayer’s grave was situated somewhat apart from other graves. There was an unencumbered field between it and a small copse of trees.

Gutle Schnapper’s grave was in another cemetery very close to other graves. Jacob felt that the place for him to be was in Hessen – not Cambridge. If there was to be any way possible to get into Mayer’s and Gutle’s graves it would be discoverable best on site. The problem was – he was broke. There was not enough money in his entire estate to even eat away from the Haymarket, let alone a plane ticket to Frankfurt.

He didn’t know what he was going to do. Young Jacob was pondering these problems as he strolled along the Esplanade near the Hatch Shell in Back Bay, Boston. On occasion he would look out over the Charles River at his alma mater, MIT. His stomach began to grumble and his feet obediently turned toward the Haymarket. Jacob turned right to Commonwealth Avenue and walked down it, until he got to the Commons.

He went through the park and then down Milk Street. As he passed the old Church, Jacob saw a face that looked familiar. It was the face of the lawyer who was arguing the case for the Rothschild sycophant that day he entered the McCormick Federal Court House building. Jacob’s plans were still amorphous at this point. He didn’t know why he began following the man.

But, he did. His plans became less ill-defined the longer he shadowed the scheister. After the cravat turned toward the Federal Courthouse, Jacob was still in tow. They passed a small awning-covered alley between two larger streets and tall corner buildings. Jacob didn’t remember the alley from the last time he was there, but he didn’t think he should let it go to waste.

Taking out Rothschild was his chosen profession.  Jacob felt that surely allowed him the largess of taking out Rothschild minions too. It was a war for human survival – collateral damage was only to be expected.  He was about to engage in an epic battle that was no less than a war for the human spirit.  If it meant dying someday at the hands of Rothschild thugs, it could not be considered a wasted life.

Nor would it be such a bad death. Jacob could think of worse. At that moment, he knew he would make his Rubicon here, in broad daylight. Looking around, he saw many people walking away from them, but no one was walking toward them at that moment. An opportunity like this might never come again.

In a split second Jacob kicked the scheister into the alley. The fellow fell forward and into a conveniently located sunken stairwell. Trying to regain his footing, the cravat saw nothing before Jacob pounced at his head. Pulling the lawyer’s hair back, Jacob smashed it forward again into the concrete stairway wall. Taking everything the unconscious man had on his person, including his briefcase and Patek Philippe; Jacob sprang back to the street.

The neophyte mugger was out of the alley and back at his brownstone in less than 20 minutes. The wallet contained about $400 and a few credit cards. It was enough to eat well on for a few days but not enough for a plane ticket to Frankfurt. The briefcase, however, held a treasure-trove of bearer bonds and about 400 grams of heroin. Jacob did not use narcotics.

Roxbury though was the largest marketplace in Boston for illegal drugs. It only took him about 5 minutes to get rid of the heroin on Homestead Street. Now, he was flush with a few thousand dollars in his hand. In his row house’s makeshift wood stove Jacob burned the briefcase. Then he looked over the papers it had contained. He understood the bearer bonds but there were other documents Jacob needed help in deciphering. He ended up taking all the paperwork to the geniuses that got him lubricated into MIT years earlier.

There was enough value there to repay them for their services rendered years earlier and still put a few more thousand in Jacob’s now-burgeoning wallet. He increased the appearance value of his wardrobe and got a better hand computer. Then he bought a ticket to Germany. At Logan, Jacob put his remaining cash into a small plastic bag and inserted it into his anus. Now, he was ready to explore & pillage Mayer Amschel Bauer’s crypt.

Jacob knew absolutely nothing about grave-robbing. Applying for work at the Jüdischer Friedhof Battonnstraße cemetery office seemed to be his best course of action. The Semitic nose, familiarity with Yiddish and other esoteric Hebrew awareness, acquired from his mother and MIT, got him the job.  He found a cheap flat near the river and went walking, until he got his bearings around Hessen. The next day the cemetery put him to work cutting grass and trimming trees.

He had only been working for a few days when there was a disinterment that needed additional diggers. He volunteered and was soon an experienced grave-digger. Every day, he surveyed the Rothschild plot but could not see a way to easily get into it. At least, it was not going to be accomplished by one man in a 2 or 3 hour early morning hit & run escapade. He sat on a 20 centimeter escarpment located near the dead Bauer and pondered.

“Such a risk I’m taking! I must be crazy! Sane people do not contemplate breaking into 250 year-old crypts to steal worthless grave dust! What am I doing here?”

Animosity against wealthy Ashkenazis in Germany (being what it is) there is a perennial problem with grave-desecration of persons of Jewish descent. Jewish cemeteries are increasingly put upon to install elaborate security measures, cameras and sound-recording equipment on the grounds. The cemetery on Jüdischer Friedhof Battonnstraße was no exception. Jacob needed to learn its capacities before he could get into the grave. Cemetery management, however, were naturally jealous of their charge.

How to unearth all his problems’ solutions was the situation young Jacob wrestled with as he sat on the mutant’s escarpment bemoaning his unusual mission. His bewilderment never ended that day. Failure at unraveling all the seemingly impossible aspects of his mission drove Jacob to a local Hessen pub after work. With a few steins of the dark brew well-downed he closed his eyes for a minute. When he opened them again there was a face looking at him from the other side of the table.

The man was not there a second earlier.  Jacob was sure of that. He asked the new face what it was doing, sitting at his table. The man replied.

“You do not remember me, Jake?”

“No. I do. . . not, no! Yes. I do. You were at the disinterment. We were digging together with those other three guys.”

“Right. My name’s Hans, if you’ve forgotten. The others, well, Eric and Philo anyway, wanted me to talk to you. They’re sitting at the bar there.”

Jacob looked over to the bar, saw the two other diggers waving at him, and asked. “Do you always drink here?”

“No. We usually go to the Lebensraum on Einstadtstrasse. We saw you enter here and came in to join you.”

“I see.” Jacob replied. “Is there something in particular you want to talk about or is this just a social visit?”

Jumping back in false surprise, Hans threw up his hands and said. “Hey, man. Be cool. We just want to chat, drink a few beers together and maybe talk some shop. If we’re bothering you, we can be gone in a second. Leave you in peace.”

“No, Hans.” Jacob replied. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to company and you came on a little too fast.”

“Really? You sure?” He asked. “Maybe something’s got me excited. We can go?”

“No, call them over. We’ll get a pitcher.”

Hans motioned to Eric and Philo and the two joined them. After re-introductions the four shared a couple of pitchers and went to the other bar at which the three diggers were regulars. They finished off another two pitchers and started talking about making some extra money. Most of the options were not very interesting to Jacob. It seemed to him that the other three wanted to say something but were reluctant to do so.

He asked. “Are you guys bothered about something? Is my presence unwanted?”

Hans replied by asking. “Why do you say that, Jake? What makes you so suspicious of our motives all the time?”

“I just want to be on the same page is all.” Jacob replied. “If I’m not aware of what’s going on, under the surface, I feel uncomfortable. It’s the way I am. Just now I got the feeling you wanted to approach some subject but don’t feel safe doing so.”

Hans looked at his buddies and then back to Jacob, but it was Philo that spoke. “You’re right. We do have an ulterior motive in making your acquaintance.”

“Really?” Jacob answered. “It’s good to know my senses are not screwed up.”

Philo said. “They aren’t.”

“It’s a good sense to have.” Eric said. “I wish I had it.”

“Me too.” Hans added.

“You see, Jake, we’re grave robbers. We use the cemeteries for work only when we do not have other business to keep us busy or when we need information.”

“I understand now,” Jacob replied. “I thought it was something like that. My senses always tell me when something isn’t what it should seem. But, we’ve been through all that. Why did you decide now to tell me this tidbit?”

“It didn’t come easily.” Hans replied. “Every time we left to take pisses we talked in the can about whether you can be trusted.”

“So, I guess you do feel you now can?”

“As much as we need to at present.” Philo replied.

“Need to?” Jacob asked.

“Yah. We have a job and need you to help us.” Hans responded.

“Digging at night?” Jacob asked.

“Yes, if you wish.” Philo retorted. “Otherwise your cut will be less.”

“I see. How much will my cut be if I help?” Jacob replied, as if he was interested.

“Well. That’s hard to say, exactly. It may be zilch, but there’s the possibility that it may be millions.” Eric added.

“That’s a big “if”.” Jacob retorted.

“That’s the deal. We know more but can’t get into it until we know you’re with us. . .” Hans added.

“And we won’t know that for sure until we’re all doing the job together.” Eric said.

“First, we need to know if you can do something for us that is not connected to digging.” Philo interjected.

“What?” Jacob asked.

“Disable the Battonnstraße cemetery’s west side alarm.” Hans answered.

Jacob thought for a few seconds and the other three got nervous, asking. “What? You got a problem with it?”

“Yes, I do.” Jacob replied.

“What problem is that?” The others nervously chimed in together.

“I don’t understand the system.”

“Learn it!” Hans riposted.

“How?! Management won’t let me near it.”

“That’s okay.” Philo replied, calming everyone down some. “You got a cell, Jake?”

“A micro-computer that encompasses cellular functions.”

“Can it photo?”

“Yes.”

“No problem.” Philo said. “Take a few pictures of it and send them to me. We’ll find out what you have to do. Are you in?”

Jacob thought for a second. He could use some friends in the grave-robbing business. The graves he needed to rob would require expert help. These guys were not in jail so they must be fairly good at their profession. Maybe their need of him was in reality a windfall in disguise.

“Yes. I’m in, all the way.” Jacob replied.

“Digging too?” Philo asked.

“Yes.”

Hans looked at Philo and Eric, and they all smiled. Jacob asked what was so humorous.

Hans said. “If you were not with us in the digging too we would not be smiling.”

“And you might not have been alive much longer.” Philo added.

He was thinking of propounding more questions, until Philo took his words away. Jacob could not tell now if his face got red or white in response to Philo’s statement. He did, however, feel he was in the company of some very serious men. More questions were unnecessary, at any rate, because Hans began explaining more about the job. Apparently, once upon a time, there was a banker, Herr Vanderschricht . . .

Now, if anyone has ever had an avaricious spouse, partner or government that would like to get their greedy paws on your hard earned-stolen-inherited cash . . . No? Nobody with such problems in this world? Of course not! Silly! Well then, if a person wishes to hide money from thieves, there are very few better options than putting the money in a fruit jar and burying it in the garden at night. If your money is bountiful or your fruit jar too small you will need to find a crooked banker you can trust.

That is sort of like trying to find a very cold sun, or an honest judge, a pol with a backbone, or a human lawyer, a bear that doesn’t shit in the woods, etc. But, those are other stories. Some Luxembourg banks have private banking services that include anonymous accounts. The receipt is all you have to prove that your money is there in that bank. If you lose the receipt or the banker is greedy (Does the bear shit in the woods?), you’re essentially copulated.

Herr Vanderschricht worked in the anonymous section of Banque Internationale d’ Luxembourg. The personable chap discovered that he was about to be taken down by banking officials. How unkind of them. It seems he was somehow confusing the bank’s anonymous-account customers with himself. The man’s psychosis went as high as 50 million euros. Being in the trade himself, Herr Vanderschricht knew it would be just a matter of time before they began looking for hard evidence of his mental illness.

He needed a place to hide his ill-gotten gains, while the state fed him, until he could re-patriate them.  His paranoia led him to believe he would never find a trustworthy crooked banker. He knew that they would also ferret out any safety deposit boxes he might rent. Renting them under exotic aliases was no panacea. He had to find a more secure spot to hide his loot.

He was aware that people were prohibited from taking their loot with them when they died. The law was never broken in this regard. Nor did dead people embezzle, perhaps for the reason that purloined funds would not travel with them anyway. So, he concluded. “What better spot to hide my loot than a grave?

“Dead men tell no tales,” he said. “Neither do they steal.”

A crypt became Herr Vanderschricht’s fruit jar.  The Jewish cemetery on Battonnstraße became his garden. Herr Vanderschricht put the 50 million euros of proof that he was demented into white diamonds and bearer bonds. Then, he put both items in a waterproof Pelican case. Herr Vanderschricht then waited impatiently for a suitable corpse.

When one became available, our friendly banker hired a man named Delacroix. It was Delacroix’s job to insert the impermeable case into the nice new grave. Unfortunately for Herr Vanderschricht, Delacroix had just enough time to chat to his friend Hans about what he did for Herr Vanderschricht before Herr Vanderschricht offed him. Delacroix never got the chance, (after the hole was put into the back of his skull), to advise Herr Vanderschricht that he had indeed so informed his friend. Herr Vanderschricht went on his merry way to jail confident that “his” money was as safe as in a grave.

When Hans finished telling Jacob the story, Jacob was silent. The others became uncomfortable, wondering what he was thinking. Just the possibility that such money might be available soon gave Jacob too much to organize with equanimity. Maybe there was a god after all! Maybe there was something protecting creation, wanting us to destroy the would-be destroyers.

Whatever. Here was a possible solution to the problems he was struggling with earlier in the day.  His aspiration itself now answered their uncertainty with a question of its own.  If the proposed Herr Vanderschricht job panned out well, would they help him with his own grave-robbing needs? The shock shared was palpable, but all seemed agreeable to it, if he would explain his specific needs later and in more depth.

So, the die was cast. Jacob nearly staggered on back to his flat a far less troubled young man than he was a few hours earlier. He awakened the next day with a new spring to his step. He went about his work normally but kept closer to the cemetery office than usual. He wanted to get a chance to photo the alarm system without being seen.

That was not easy.  There was only one spot in the office where he would not be visible by a camera. That spot was near the secretary, and she would see him while he took the pictures. It would do no good waiting until the woman went to lunch, because she locked the office when she left.   Jacob made his move when she went to the bathroom.

The photos were close-ups and exactly what was needed. He immediately sent them to Hans. A few minutes later he got a message that all were good. He was to meet them at the Lebensraum that evening. They did so meet, had a beer, and went to a flat near the train station.

Philo had rigged up a crude replica of the alarm system Jacob photographed. He showed Jacob which wires were to be cut and how to get to them. The system was very simple and Jacob had it down in seconds. Deciding how he would approach the system during the last few minutes of the work day to cut the designated wires presented another problem.

The office camera would be witness to his crime, and he didn’t have keys to the office at night. Even if he did, the office cameras near the office entrance would pick him up and expose the crime. He talked about it with the others. At first it was postulated that Jacob might open a window during the day or make some other adjustment to the office that would allow an evening access. Nothing suggested seemed either very secure or without negative repercussions.

They would be seen by cameras while they were so engaged at every option. If they had to break in to disable the alarm the chances would be nil for a successful assault. Plus, if they needed to do that why did they need Jacob? They didn’t. Jacob’s spirits were going downhill quickly.

“What’re we gonna’ do?” Jacob asked, timidly.

“I don’t see any way but to cut power to the whole cemetery.” Eric said.

“We can’t do that either.” Philo said. “The alarm has a battery and a negative energy default option that sends an immediate silent call to the cops.”

“What if we cut the power just long enough to get in and disable the alarm on the west side?” Hans suggested. “When the power returns, we’ll be home free, no alarm worries.”

“No good.” Philo replied. “The cops will be wary of it all night, be watching for something.”

“Here’s an idea.” Jacob added. “Suppose we cut the power long enough for me to get in and disable the alarm. I disable just the west side cameras and microphones, doing it very carefully. If I’m successful, it will be hard for anyone not familiar with alarms to notice. Then, I leave. The cops come, do their thing, and leave. They’ll probably be very vigilant but come only the night the power is cut. Finding nothing out of order, they can be as wary as they want the night of the outage. The next day, when I’m at my job, I will know if my idea has worked. That night we do the job, knowing that the coast is clear.”

“Sounds promising.” Hans said.

“We’d need to cut the power in a way that appears accidental,” Eric said, “or at least not with malice aforethought.”

“Yah.” Jacob agreed. “I’ll unlock a window the day we’re gonna’ cut the power to get access. The next day, first thing in the morning, I’ll lock it back up, and nobody will have any cause for suspicion.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Philo said. “I’ll get everything arranged for the digging, and Hans will look into fencing the loot we take.”

Eric was the electrical expert. He made the power outage look like an alley cat had made a tragic miscalculation. Jacob completed the necessary adjustments to the alarm.  Philo stayed near the cemetery to record the police action.  The crew, minus Philo, went to the Lebensraum to wait.

They found out the particulars about 30 minutes later when Philo reported what had happened.  Everything went as they planned. The next night at about an hour after it got dark the crew went over the cemetery wall and began the excavation. The grave was newly made, and there was not much need for sod care. The loot was secured, and the grave was re-filled.

If there was anything amiss, Jacob would adjust its untoward aspects the next day on his grounds’ inspection. They divided the Vanderschricht loot four ways at the flat near the train station. Hans gave them the address of the fence he said would give them the best deal if they wished to change the proceeds for cash. Each chose to give Hans about a million euros of the gross diamond-bond haul to exchange into euros currency for them. Hans left with his share plus 3 million euros of the others.

The next night they met at the Lebensraum. Hans distributed about 200,000 euros to each man for their million. Jacob, once again, went a bit tipsy back to his flat, feeling jubilant as well as intoxicated. The next day the new multimillionaire was back at his job in the cemetery on Jüdischer Friedhof Battonnstraße. He appeared to be just as poor as before.

A few months passed before Jacob was able to approach his grave-robbing associates to make an assault on Mayer Amschel Bauer’s grave. Hans was no longer a part of the group. He was one of those unfortunate men that find themselves in love with an American woman. Like so many others in similar circumstances, his life in the USA was ruined by the experience. The silly man thought he was free of the harpy with the final divorce decree.

But, lawyers being lawyers, US judges being US judges, and American women being American women, the leeches found him in Hessen. They renewed their blood-sucking. Hans felt it was time to take matters into his own hands. He went back to the USA. There, he killed his own lawyer and his wife’s lawyer before throwing his wife into a sausage machine.

Hans did not wait for the police to arrest him and give the lawyers an opportunity to make of him a slave. He made his peace with the human race on his own terms. Arriving at the courthouse that divorced him, Hans shot two cops guarding that courthouse’s decorum.  He then shot the judge that gave the divorce decree. Hans watched with a smile on his face as the jurist took his last “honorable” breath.

He then asked if there were any attorneys in the room that would care to discuss jurisprudence with him. Remaining courthouse guards and an off-duty policeman brought him down in a hail of bullets. Hans’ problem was solved. He made the world a better place with his life. He bartered it for four predatory scumbags and a few two-penny guards.

It had no immediate positive affect, however, on Jacob’s mission in life. He now had to make do with Eric and Philo. Philo was the intellect of the three and Eric the jack-of-all-trades. Hans had been the general organizer that coordinated everything, and he would be missed. Jacob needed to spend many weeks at the Lebensraum explaining his mission to the remaining men.

It was not easy convincing them that life has options other than sex and making large amounts of money. He explained that robbing Mayer’s grave would yield no immediate gains. They were negatively impressed.  He explained that it was also much riskier than any other grave they might rob. On that, their distaste for the venture rose exponentially.

But, that meant almost nothing. Jacob’s two friends were all tapped out – broke. Eric was an inveterate gambler. He lost nearly all his proceeds from the Vanderschricht job at Mondorf Casino near Luxembourg. Philo invested all his own share of the proceeds in a Paris hotel, near Gare de l’Est. The former owner swindled him and the place was not now doing very well. A major plumbing problem competed with a negative cash flow, tending to drive him into bankruptcy.

Jacob was rich. He could easily offer them a million euros for the task. They knew he had it, so it came across as a bona fide offer. Both men needed Jacob’s money.  They accepted his offer without reservation.

Philo asked what their responsibilities would be. Eric could not help, this time, with the burglar alarm. Mayer’s grave was near an open area abutting a small copse of trees and very visible from Battonnstraße. Even with the electronic cameras inactivated the work would be dangerously discernible. There was only one way to get into it unseen.

They would have to tunnel in from the small woods. The tunnel would have to open upwards underneath the crypt. It presented no end of difficulties. Wood had to be brought in to shore up the walls and roof of the tunnel, insuring against a cave-in. If battery-powered tools were needed to open the crypt that would have to be determined only when they were ready to begin cutting into the casket.

Flashlights to examine the corpse’s remains and medical tools to cut the 250 year-old rotted flesh were a must. A biopsy drill to take bone marrow samples would be obligatory. A container in which to place the pieces of flesh and bone marrow was essential, as were smaller auxiliary containers. The men thought about gas masks for the possible stench. Then, they gave up the idea. With the vitally necessary equipment it would be too bulky in the enclosed space. There was only a few minutes work expected before they could cut and scram anyway.

For the first few yards, the dirt hauled out of the tunnel was not difficult to hide. They just sprinkled it over the ground deeper in the woods. As they neared the casket however the dirt problem became more intense. They could no longer get rid of it unnoticed in the woods. The diggers needed to take it with them when they left the premises in the morning.

Given the above constraints, it took nearly a fortnight to reach the tomb. The casket itself was made of wood and lead. It only required a hammer and crowbar to break through the fragile outer layer. The interior coffin, however, was a half-ton of pure pressed lead sheeting. It required a large bolt cutter to breach it.

The diggers brought along a manual-powered ventilating fan to bring fresh air from the woods into the tunnel. The smell from the grave mixed with the musty smell from tunnel soil & rotting tree leaves. The work was therefore not as offensive as expected. Once inside, the men readily discerned from the grave clothing the remains of the huge at-av-neg mutant. Jacob took center stage.

He first removed the grave clothes from the fat decayed mutant. Then, he searched for an area that was not obviously degraded beyond possible use. Searching over the entire length and breadth of the putrefied obese organism, Jacob found nothing. His spirits plummeted. He desperately needed a DNA priming substrate.  To clone millions of copies of the sequence was essential.

Then, when he tipped the remains over to one side his disappointment evaporated. There, directly peripheral to the sacral spinal vertebrae, was a copper coin. It was sticking to some un-degraded flesh. The toxic copper prevented animal and microbial destruction of about 30 mls. of soft tissue. Jacob’s heart leaped. With the few grams of bone drillings, he removed; there was enough to get a full-scale sequencing operation going.

Jacob spent another ten minutes looking for more, but it was not to be. He didn’t want to prove as avaricious as his specimen, so he left the grave, taking the copper coin with him. At the tunnel’s mouth, they poured in a cubic meter of rocks to prevent its discovery. Jacob estimated that the plastic tarp, they installed over the structural timbers of the tunnel, to protect it from rain seepage, would prevent a cave-in for at least a year. That was ample time to rob the other Rothschild graves.

Gutle Schnapper’s grave was located in another cemetery near Mayer’s. It was close to other graves and little digging was required. Young Jacob found a bit of un-degraded flesh around a copper earring located on Gutle’s left ear. It made him smile, thinking how someone cheated fat greedy old Mayer out of money spent for “gold” earrings.

Then, he thought, Gutle was not as sharp a business person as her husband. She may have bought them herself. Quis qui quod. Jacob now had nuclear as well as mitochondrial DNA from the monstrous mutants. He could separate everyone else in the world from Mayer and his porcine descendants. He would not be drawn to any red herring.

Jacob had genomic DNA from both Bauer and Schnapper. He was prepared to risk an assault on the Rothschild scion’s graves. Having their DNA would fine tune his tests. There would be definitive proof on whether a relative of either Mayer or Gutle was a descendant or just a distant horizontal cousin. Except if true Talmudic demented Jews, Jacob saw no utility in killing cousins of either Mayer or Gutle. His objective was to eradicate the descendants of old 666 and every subhuman contaminated by the Bauer-Schnapper DNA synergy. The rest of the at-av-negs could slide awhile.

The freezer in Jacob’s apartment held quantities of 666 flesh in various states of decomposition. It was not near being filled yet, and the young man was chafing at the bit to change his focus from obtaining original DNA specimens. He longed to apply his efforts to laboratory analysis and genetic engineering. It was with forced resolution that he rose to assault the first of Mayer and Gutle’s son’s graves.  That attack was almost a bust as there was no un-degraded flesh.

The only DNA he could gather was from bone drillings. The assault on another son brought similar melancholy. No copper coins or jewelry protected the flesh from decomposition. The assault on Nathan’s corpse, however, brought success.  A large chunk of flesh, between the mutant’s heart and stomach, was un-degraded.

Whether from some unknown chemical protectant or Nathan being just too greedy to give gut microbes more of his decomposing corpse, Jacob never bothered to investigate. He brought out the specimen, ready to leave the grave, when shots rang out. Eric fell directly backwards into Nathan’s grave, as the other two went over the cemetery wall. With Eric’s share now his own, Philo was now considerably richer than he might have been. Philo was not, however, contemplating that at the time.

He was more interested in getting himself and Jacob out of the immediate environs. They did so escape, without more mishap. Unlucky Eric, however, would never again lose everything in Mondorf Casino. Both Jacob and Philo assisted Eric’s wife with his funeral. At separate times, each visited the display of his body. At each visit, they invested a little more $ than the stopover preceding it. Eric’s wife never suffered poverty on their account.

Jacob was now replete with the entire amount of DNA he required. He felt blowback from his extra-curricular activities, especially the Nathan sortie, might soon impact his job at Jüdischer Friedhof Battonnstraße cemetery. Those repercussions might even influence his freedom. It seemed the time to make an unsuspicious and clean break with his employers. He did so, and moved to the Pleiades in the Mediterranean.

Philo spent most of the financial proceeds of his time with Eric and Jacob, along with a month of work, trying to improve the situation at his Paris hotel. No longer as interested in the business as he originally thought he was, Philo was looking for a way out. He asked and got permission to join Jacob at the new laboratory on Simi in the Pleiades.  Jacob knew Philo was bright.  He thought that having a technician unafraid of stepping out onto the criminal side occasionally might be an asset. So, they resumed their association in Greece.

It took Jacob about a month to get enough pure DNA from each of the five cadavers to begin sequencing work. He imported genetic engineering equipment into his Simi lab via Greek cruise ships. He and Philo bought from different companies, using different common-carriers, so only they knew what was happening. Chemicals, especially radioisotopes and serum, were harder to come by. There were more invasive questions as to use.

Everything touched by the Jew-nited States’ phony drug war left a trail of devastated lives in its wake. One other legacy left on its path’s periphery was the ubiquitous idea that generic “chemicals’ possession” was a suspicious practice. Jacob encountered many difficulties because of it. Fortunately, Philo had ample acquaintances on the Law’s nether side. They helped Jacob often in his “exotic” chemicals’ acquisition. Radioactive isotopes & restriction enzymes needed to be stolen from various research laboratories around the world. Fortunately, most research institutions and universities are lax in their security measures.

As chemicals & equipment arrived on Simi, advances in discovery did too. Within a year Jacob had Southerns, Northerns, Westerns and ELISAs of great sensitivity, ready for use. Philo, a born professional criminal, relished his job of obtaining resources for Jacob. But, when the biologist didn’t need his special criminal capacities, the man was chafing at the bit on little Simi. Every day he went down to the beach to observe the naked girls.

Occasionally he picked up one or two and brought them back to Jacob. Both men enjoyed the occasional diversion, and they always remembered Simi as good times. Women are attention junkies though and make life unbearable for those who do not recognize their deep addiction. When there was work for him to do Jacob wanted nothing to do with the pouting pansies. It devolved upon Philo then to get rid of them when they became de trop.

Jacob began buying small blood samples for his research from Greek sailors and tourists. As each test proved negative for Bauer-Schnapper homology, Jacob became ever more encouraged. His work was well-managed with ample positive and negative controls. No false negatives and false positives gummed up his research. His variables were succinct gems of probity.

Procurement and processing of dead-Rothschild DNA was complete.  Jacob still needed more facts to analyze, however, facts that would clarify his testing position. He discussed the unmet need with Philo.  Philo was amenable to the new responsibility. It was time for them to go live-Rothschild hunting.

Jacob knew his controlled tests were accurate. He was confident that he had (from his various genetic isolations) 20 special solid potential sequences.   Any one of them might be his conceivable zio+ marker.  He tested his ELISAs and Southerns on Nathan Rothschild’s DNA and the gold-glutton’s brothers’ DNA numerous times. Testing another Rothschild scion, a live one, legitimate or bastard, would further verify his hypotheses.

Jacob remembered his first Rothschild minion kill. He discovered the man at a Federal Courthouse. He might find other Rothschild minions that way. In time he might even discover a clandestine genetic Rothschild in residence. It was time to go hunting in the Jew-nited States.

Deployment of the testing procedure “in the field” began. Philo and he began visiting Federal Courtrooms around the USA. They looked for cases brought by or against Rothschild interests. They wandered up and down the Wall Street environs. Leads eventually led them to probable genetic Rothschilds.

It would have been easy just to ask for a cheek swab from the individuals. Cheek swabs were not enough for Jacob. He needed larger quantities of DNA to feel his testing was being done accurately.  The problem Jacob faced was getting it without the inevitable risk occasioned by incapacitating the suspected mutant first.  He never solved that problem.

As it turned out, it didn’t matter. Jacob and Philo soon learned that it was most convenient just to kill the suspect. They’d hack off a few pounds of meat and throw it in a sack. Once secure, Jacob would run a gel and take the data. Then, they’d move on to the next possible quarry.

After thus processing about 20 Rothschilds-by-name, the men found only three possible zio+s in the subset. They were getting disheartened. There had to be a better way of ascertaining what mutants were real Rothschilds and which were just generic at-av-neg pigs. It was immediately apparent to both men that getting thousands of zio+s offed with dispatch was not going to happen this way. Philo made a cogent reflection too when he said.

“Sooner or later a camera is going to pick us up harvesting one of these animals. Then, it will be another set of rules entirely.”

Jacob agreed. The two temporarily closed the Rothschild hunting season. They parted company as friends. Philo returned to his Paris hotel. Jacob returned to Simi.

Without Philo’s companionship, Jacob was feeling a little sad. One day, he was sitting on Simi’s beach, watching the naked girls. He struck up a conversation with a very pretty girl that walked past him on his beach blanket. Her naked body was the equal of her face.  Jacob was smitten.

It turned out she had a house in the hills above the port, and she took him with her there. Removing some of Jacob’s sense of missing Philo, the young woman added her own brand of closeness. After a few weeks of their co-habitation, Jacob found himself becoming very much attached to the girl. Thinking about how he would react to her loss, the thought became father to the reality. The next day, as usual, his girlfriend went down the island to the beach by the port.

Jacob stayed at her house to read some biology papers. About 4 PM Jacob stepped out on the veranda, hoping to see his girlfriend’s return. He did see her. She was talking to a fellow outside the bus that brought her home from the beach. He instantly began writing inside with jealousy and fear of her possible loss.

Not being a troglodyte, Jacob disguised his fear and green emotion, calmly asking her if the fellow also lived in the nearby hills. Under other circumstances, it would have been perceived as no more than simple small talk. The question did not infer anything resembling an interrogation. It was just a simple question, unencumbered with Jacob’s hidden emotions. His noticing her “friend”, however, set off some alarm in the girl.

Due to the girl’s guilt feelings, she got petulant, and the conversation became warmer. In time Jacob discovered she was “looking around”.  The woman wanted to “hook-up” with another male.  Jacob was in the way. She didn’t know how to break the news to him without a mêlée.

She got one.  Jacob returned to his lab on Simi. It took him three weeks to recover his former spirits. For those 21 days he was fighting the urge to weep every time he thought of her. What made matters worse was that as Jacob took his morning tea on the lab’s veranda he saw her get off the bus at the foot of the mountain every day.

A month after the breakup, Jacob was taking one of his walks on the Mediterranean beach. He was tentatively trying to recover his former ability of enjoying selected breasts observable on the sand before him. He plumbed the depths of fine breast displays, roasting in the sun. It was almost as if the convalescence from his loss was over. He turned back toward his lab and ran into an old man obviously doing the same thing as Jacob was doing a second earlier.

“Titting” is an exercise that gives men true enjoyment. It is never futile. The joy engendered in a man’s breast, upon seeing a woman’s naked mammaries, is an unspeakable pleasure. If women (not dykes, of course) only fully understood the power they have over men (not fags, of course) due to that fact they might reconsider some of their behavior. Many might never again go either clothed or . . . alone.

Elboruh Lebensrau was not using either of his regular names, so Jacob didn’t know with whom he was speaking. It’s also true that Jacob was perhaps a tad too forthright in his conversation. He remonstrated with himself later for the surprising lack of discipline he displayed. The dialogue was sufficiently vague, however, that ample room was left to give quick plausible denial of criminal conduct should such become necessary. Being a perceptive chap, Elbo could read between the lines of suggestion.

He told Jacob that what it seemed Jacob needed was a friend like Rav Aloirav. Elbo said it seemed as though Rav would have an answer for everything Jacob lacked. When Jacob manifested how unsure he was that the man actually existed, Elbo set him straight. Jacob asked how he might meet the man, and Elbo became silent. The conversation broke up shortly thereafter.

Both men went their separate ways. Immediately subsequent to his return home, Elbo contacted Rav at Hotel Aloirav in Andirobal, Brazil. Elbo explained to Rav the situation that Jacob and his zio+ aspiration presented. Rav didn’t waste any time and within a few hours he was with Elbo, locked in deep conversation. Later the following evening, Jacob met Rav Aloirav.

Mr. Aloirav, leader of the New Society, was a famous molecular biologist and bioweapons virtuoso. He was also the erstwhile friend of Lester Frye, the man who invented the great Pontibus Transatlantic Bridge. Mr. Frye was known to his peers as the “Architect of Heaven”.  Rav was impressed with Jacob’s story. So impressed was he that he sent some of his New Society people to check out the facts concerning the man’s discourse.

They used details that Jacob divulged as starting points. Everything proved to be as Jacob said. So, Rav began checking into the young biologist’s background and investigating the fellow’s past acquaintances. No reports of snitching or treachery while in prison ever surfaced.  Rav then put the other biologist through a few recondite moral tests of his own.

Jacob passed them with ease, and Rav accepted him into the New Society. Now, they could talk shop. Their conversations were extensive and both learned much.  Rav invited Jacob to move his entire operation to Rav’s clandestine laboratory compound in the Amazon jungle. Jacob did exactly that.

In one of Rav’s Amazon jungle laboratories Jacob immediately set about learning the technology behind virus creation and their vaccine antitheses. He also developed some unique tests there, using proteins coded for by the zio+ sequences and their complementary palindromes. These tests would determine if the proteins existed somewhere in Rothschild kin bodies and could be used as cell receptors. If so, using Rav’s special technologies and viral subassemblies, Jacob could create a ziovirus. With a biotool like that he could wipe out all the Rothschilds and all hybrid vestiges of the vile mutants.

What was especially attractive was that the virus could do so without the necessity of Jacob capturing and killing them manually. The virus would do those distasteful tasks just because of the nature of its existence. All Jacob needed to do was to attach one of Rav’s CAEV-DNA superstructures to the zio+ receptor-encoding DNA. Then, he could ligate an Ebola killing-factor complex to gag & pol and voilà! A hemorrhagic ziovirus is born.

It sounded so simple. The simplicity, however, ended there for Jacob. After selling his property on Simi and moving half of his biological equipment and reagents to Brazil, his money was growing low. Brazil is overly-sensitive to equipment immigration and even more so to chemicals. So, most of his assets had to enter the country from Venezuela via the Orinoco River.

Venezuela was no longer a communistic hell-hole. It was, however, still poor and corrupt. Importation bribes took nearly the last Reale of Jacob’s money. He left his biological and other unique possessions with the New Society in Amazonia. From there, he went out into the world seeking his next fortune.

He first looked up Philo, staying at Philo’s hotel for a few weeks. In the evenings they walked down the Boulevard de Clichy and wandered around the Montmartre. In quaint restaurants, they talked about ways of advancing their investment portfolios and other nonsense. One night, after an enjoyable time at the Moulin Rouge, Jacob told Philo about his association with Elboruh, (not mentioning any names, of course). Philo was interested and wanted to hear everything about the man that Jacob knew.

While he was still at Hotel Aloirav’s clandestine Amazonian laboratory, Jacob learned things about Elboruh Lebensrau most others did not know. That included Elbo’s rapid rise to power in the Burning Fasces Movement. Philo could not hear enough from Jacob about the man. But Jacob too manifested how impressed he was with Elbo. The information on Elbo dovetailed nicely with Jacob’s own mission in life.

Jacob told Philo he asked Elbo why the man hated lawyers and pols so much. Jacob said Elbo replied. “Doesn’t hatred of brutal thieves, enslavers and treacherous predators come naturally to humanity?”

“But,” Jacob said he replied, “to make a career out of their eradication is a step beyond natural inclination, don’t you think?”

“Yes. I suppose so.” Elbo said. “I understand your curiosity, Jake. You see, my boy. Like you, I am a citizen of this solar system and a resident of planet Earth. I cannot deny that any more than I can deny I am a criminal, a murderer, as are you, as is everyone in the New Society. Yet, I think of myself as a man of integrity, as I’m sure you do.”

“I am.” Jacob said he replied, and Elbo continued.  “As I see it, there are only two occupations open to us as men of integrity. One is custodianship of the Earth, protecting biosustainability. The other is the destruction of the state. There are no crimes greater than those that either hurt the living planet or support the nation-state system. That means that as a petty criminal I must aid & abet the destruction of all persons (Eco thugs, nuclear power brutes, nuclear arms manufacturers, etc.) tending to diminish biosustainability or augment the state (lawyers, pols, bureaucrats, bankers). Remove negative influences and you remove a great deal of unnecessary baggage crushing down on our planet’s back.”

Jacob knew how much he hated the Rothschild mutants. What he did not know, until he met Elbo, was that all lawyers too, not just pols & bankers, serve at the feet of his nemesis. Rothschild is the state. All lawyers serve the state. The state, reciprocally, serves all lawyers and Rothschild.

Elbo said. “The unstated goal of the entire gaggle of these subhuman beings is the rape, pillage and destruction of humanity. Coincidentally, or by design, these are the same goals as those of all the families connected by blood to the mutant Rothschild race.”

The new knowledge, Jacob gave Philo about Elbo, opened the door to a new source of revenue for Jacob and Philo. Philo was so taken with what he heard that he prevailed upon Jacob to join Elbo in his noble quest. They traveled to Simi, where Elbo was still in residence. In confidence, Jacob asked Elbo for his assistance.

Elbo said that he did not appreciate persons in the New Society wagging their tongues about him to outsiders. Jacob replied that they did not do that. He explained to Elbo that he was now in the New Society, a true member. Elbo asked for more information but Jacob would not divulge more. When Elbo asked the reason for Jacob’s reticence, Jacob replied that it was forbidden.

“How so?” Elbo asked.

“I do not have any information that you are a member of the New Society.” Jacob replied. , “Unless I am certain that another person is also a member of the clandestine organization, I can be disciplined severely for talking shop. Despite the knowledge I have of you, I am still not aware of your standing with us, Elbo. I’m sorry.”

The resistance to talk shop, without authorization, impressed Elbo, and he contacted Rav Aloirav. Rav confirmed Jacob’s status and suggested the great cravat-cleaner take Jacob under his wing and show him aspects of the trade. Elbo heeded Rav’s counsel and showed the perspicacious Jacob some of his tricks. One of those tricks was proving to Jacob that he was also a member of the New Society. Not being a member of the exclusive New Society, Philo was not privy to the talks, of course. It went unnoticed by the man, as he was too busy to take offense, renewing his acquaintance with the naked Simi sirens.

Elbo educated Jacob on the techniques of harvesting polluted beings and their close associates. The latter often included billionaire caedere parasites like the Rothschilds, Bundys, Astors, DuPonts, Rockefellers, Schiffs, etc. He taught Jacob that the craven cravats should not remain recognizable over 12 hours after acquisition (capture). Soon after Jacob was graduated from his cravat-cleaning studies, Jacob & Philo became apprentice cravat-cleaners. Elbo expected them to assist his shipping crews in filling bags with 27% fish ration (cravat protein) in Elbo’s depots around the world.

Later, they would export it to Elbo’s jungle farms.  Henchmen in various cities around the world brought Elbo news of prospective feed livestock (big bankers, lawyers & politicians). Elbo in turn relayed it where necessary. Contacts also helped him lure hopefuls to unlit & unobserved locations for eventual acquisition (capture), fund extraction (robbing) & recycling (butchering). In every country Elbo had both contacts and oral contracts.

He rented warehouses, milling machinery, bagging equipment. He hired managers or got franchisees and was very successful. Jacob spent 6 months with Philo in the comminuting and desiccating warehouses. When Elbo felt Jacob was ready, Elbo asked him where he would like to do his cravat hunting. Jacob chose New York, New York.

He felt it would be a good place to work. Manhattan too had the best chance of harboring Rothschild-contaminated mutants. Jacob needed these particular carcasses to use in his zio+ testing. Constructing the eventual viral agent that would ferret out possession of the zio+ cell receptor also required mutant flesh.

Philo was ready to go. His philandering was becoming tedious, even dangerous. Some of his women were the jealous type and resented his many lovers. He also longed to resume creative criminal activity. Always obeying the law could get to be a bad habit, a vice, he felt.

It was over a decade now since Jacob first set out to find the zio+ Rothschild marker. He achieved that stage of his dream in a surprisingly short time. Jacob was now embarking on a new aspect of his mission. Although initially thinking that just finding the putative zio+ DNA would be enough, its practical shortfall did not fill him with dismay.  Finding a zio+ cell receptor now though would realize everything for which he originally hoped.

His success in achieving the initial goal gave him confidence to pursue the additional objective. A ziovirus, as Rav explained it, would accomplish all for which Jacob aspired. Everything depended on the new zio+ cell receptor research.  How well that went would depend on Jacob’s and Philo’s performance in New York for Elbo. The world waited.

Above all other needs, Jacob required cash money to further his research. He must make peptides for Western Blots from the zio+ sequences he possessed. There was the need to import into Brazil additional chemicals and fresh Rothschild flesh. He also required Rothschild somatic cells to test for zio+ peptide complementarity. Lawyer-pol harvesting should easily provide the resources needed for these objectives.

Elbo’s infrastructure could easily encompass both of Jacob’s needs. The men worked out the arrangements and details in one of Elbo’s New York warehouses.  Elbo’s high quality passports let him enter and leave New York without encountering problems from his past. Special contact lenses, cheekbone implants, and other fine details kept him free of invasive camera vigilance and biometric machine mischief. He would not tempt fate however and never spent time in New York whimsically.

Jacob and Philo dedicated their time now to acquisition, extraction and recycling. They “acquired” lawyers and pols with alacrity.  Jacob’s reductions & acquisitions alone kept Elbo’s New York warehouses, (for handling harvested cravats), very busy. So busy, in fact, that Elbo heard about that profusion of increased business and was rightly concerned. He contacted Jacob to talk about the issue.

Elbo said. “Jake. I’ll grant you that nobody could feel a soul-less subhuman’s loss. It’s inconceivable. Yet lawyer & pol associations and courts might become suspicious over their members’ increasing disappearances.”

Jacob tried to reassure him, saying. “We are heeding all the precautions, upon which you insist. We never ever take needless risks. Every rule and constraint, you have placed on us, we follow, persistently.”

Elbo was not relieved of his concerns, so Philo and Jacob promised him they would reduce their volume, considerably. Elbo very obviously appeared to feel better. They began indeed cutting down on their acquisitions. Spending more time observing the goings-on at the Federal Courthouse, the men surveyed the livestock available. They searched assiduously for possible zio+ Rothschilds.

What many people do not understand is that cravat-cleaning, (killing lawyers, pols and rapacious bankers), for fun & profit is a labor-intensive profession. It is not, (As many would assume!), just another kind of fish-farming or feedlot management. Decidedly not! In addition to the very obvious illegal aspects, the latter rendering stages do not allow for automation. More an art than a science, it is expensive to operate.

One can immediately see that Elbo’s fish and alligator farms were comfortable with high payroll expenditures. Elbo paid his franchisees both a cash allowance for each cravat acquired and a calculated percentage of total world-wide extractions. The calculated percentages never rose to more than 25% of gross extractions per annum. In Philo and Jacob’s cases, there was the additional need to transport Rothschild corpses in frozen chunks to Brazil. Elbo, realizing the extra costs and risks, reduced their extraction percentage to 10%.

Elbo required Jacob to pay the 15% extraction-reduction cost whether he used the transporting service or not. It thus gave Jacob incentive to place a high priority on the capture of genetic Rothschild specimens for his research. It was a fair arrangement, but it also contained a Catch-22. Elbo’s contract details put pressure on them to be more prolific in their acquisitioning than the ordinary hunters. He also made it clear he did not want them to acquire much!

Sentiment toward the Rothschilds in the general population is not as it should be. It is, of course, divided between those which worship and try to emulate the mutants on the one hand and those that wish to castigate the vermin on the other. Sadly, the gradient of blind-worship is much more heavily represented than is the castigating arm. One can observe a further abridgement, heuristically, by separating such considerations into riffraff and human.  For those not given to rapid observation, admirers fall into the taxonomy of riffraff.

Many of Jacob’s typical Rothschild captures were Wall Street fellows. Some were not. Philo and Jacob met one at the Federal Courthouse, while his lawyer haggled with another cravat over the unsatisfied terms of some lease. The Rothschild did not get the reciprocal chance to meet Jacob and Philo until it was too late to avoid making their acquaintance. The mutant took an opportunity to use a Federal rest room. Philo followed him there, and the fellow was acquired.

The two men stuffed the 666 corpse in a sack of rest room waste. From there they rolled it in a cart to the elevator and the first floor trash-shipping dock. A direct routing to Elbo’s recycling warehouse was out of the question, of course. The ex-mutant did eventually arrive there. It was in the early evening.

A nice beige van drove up to the warehouse’s S&R platform. The mutant was ensconced in a nice cardboard box in that nice van. The nice cardboard box was indistinguishable from the other nice cartons containing nice new plastic-webbed feed sacks.

Once safe & secure in the warehouse, the lawyer, pol or zio+ mutant would undergo one of Jacob’s genetic tests.  Nearly half of the supposed genetic Rothschilds that Jacob and Philo took to the processing warehouses turned out to be zio -. Other than the money extracted upon capture, these mistaken-identity red shields were useless for anything other than fish meal. Those capitalizing on the Rothschild moniker paid a high price for their deception it would appear. At times, however, infrequent as it was, sometimes the opposite occurred, and Jacob got a zio+ result from an unobtrusive common cravat.

Jacob apportioned all genetic Rothschilds to Brazil for use in receptor research. The crew carefully packaged genuine zio+ Rothschild-contaminated flesh for transport to the southern laboratory. There, the flesh was stored in freezers until Jacob was ready for it. Nearly a year passed before Jacob felt he had sufficient Rothschild (zio+) flesh to make a concerted effort to find the zio+ receptor. There was, however, still a shortage of cash for all the latest equipment and reagents necessary to the task.

He agonized over how much more time he would have to spend acquiring lawyers and pols for Elbo’s warehouse reductions. At the rate he was capturing subhumans, due to his reluctance to upset Elbo, it would not be soon. Jacob foresaw at least another year before there would be all the laboratory resources required on site. He did not hide his discontentment. On one of his infrequent visits to the New York facility, Elbo ran into the man.

The gloominess was written all over the biologist, and it alarmed Elbo. Elbo asked Jacob why he appeared so dejected. Jacob told him about his reluctance to acquire more cravats than the number with which Elbo would feel comfortable.  Elbo understood immediately. He was genuinely distressed by his own lethargy in producing the catch 22 situation.

Elbo was impressed by Jacob’s concern and offered to do something about the impasse he himself had shaped. He did. The next week Elbo notified Jacob with good news. Rav and Elbo pulled together all the funds necessary to start the zio+ receptor research immediately. Rav said he would also continue to supply the Amazon laboratory and add two technicians.

He even offered to help with the protein’s isolation. The news filled Jacob with joy. He said goodbye in New York to Philo. That took away some of the euphoria. Jacob explained to his friend that he was committed to spend possibly years at his future laboratory vocation.

Expecting an emotional reaction, Jacob was somewhat disappointed at the reaction he in fact received. Philo took the news quite philosophically. The man was equally tired of enjoying the catch-22 situation in New York. He returned to Paris and resumed his métier as hotelier, spending his remaining years at it.

Jacob’s Amazon jungle ziovirus laboratory was located in an outlying sector of the New Society’s clandestine transhuman laboratory enclave. A winding river surrounded the sub rosa community. It was filled with piranhas, alligators, fresh-water rays, and tucunare’ bass. Not entirely isolated, at times, wild women would appear on the other side of the river. They would call out to Jacob.

He found momentary sexual pleasure with these 11 and 12 year olds. Sometimes older women of 13 or even 14 years would ask for his favors. He happily complied. Indigenous Amazon women are not all ugly and there are none beset with the deadly female disease known in the West as feminism. Their bodies are also just as beautiful as female bodies of any other race.

One cannot, of course, expect to find a lifetime of bliss with these creatures. The Amazon people are wild, unrepressed, and unaware of the blessings conferred upon neurotics. Their culture understands no modern concepts like integrity (not saying we do), abstinence, fidelity or promiscuity. They copulate when the desire demands and don’t when it doesn’t. If a mate is near, then they are faithful. If the mate is distant, horns will develop unawares.

Horizontal human feeling, as it is known in “civilized” societies, is almost non-existent in such creatures. They eat when hungry, drink with thirst, and sleep when their bodies demand it. When the urge to procreate becomes uncontrollable, reproductive behavior just happens. There is probably no creature alive more susceptible to the urge to procreate than a 12 year-old human female. Such amorality suited Jacob.

His interests were focused on creating a ziovirus. Animal happiness could wait. Years passed before Jacob could say he was making any progress. When progress arrived, it arrived in the following way:

About midday one summer, a helicopter passed over Jacob’s lab outpost. It descended to flare height above the river. Curiosity prompted Jacob to leave the lab. It was always a welcomed diversion to look out over the water and see an infrequent visitor.  The chopper pilot waved to him and hovered at flare level until almost to the river’s weedy shore.

Suddenly, a large gunny sack flew out of the open port of the aircraft and flopped half on the beach and half in the water. Jacob ran to the sack and hauled it up on the bank before the alligators and piranha could tear it to pieces. Inside Jacob discovered a living being. It looked very much like a human. Jacob helped the hominid to its feet and then into the lab.

Jacob barely had time to finish his introduction when Elbo and Rav Aloirav burst through the door. Rav smiled and said. “I see you’ve met your new guinea pig.”

“Guinea pig?” Jacob repeated, with a quizzical look on his face.

“Yep, Jake. Genuine Talmudic Sephardic Jew.” Elbo said. “Caught him just after he left a Brookline synagogue, Wednesday. Going to fleece some Gentile out of its life’s savings, no doubt. Still had his beanie on.”

“Why do you say that Elbo?” Jacob asked.

“Cause I saw it fall off his noggin when I grabbed ‘im.”

“I meant what made you think he was going to a fleecing?”

“Lawyer, pol, Jew. . .” Elbo replied. “What more proof do you need than that?”

“None, I guess.” Jacob replied. “What am I to do with it?”

“Rav said you were not having much luck with the frozen Jew meat you caught in New York. I thought maybe it was because it wasn’t fresh enough or of Boston Jew quality.”

“You may be right.” Jacob replied. “I’ve been wondering about the former myself.”

“Just one problem.” Elbo said, reservedly.

“What’s that?”

“When I talked to you in New York, at the warehouse,” Elbo said, “you said you needed the Rothschild type of Jew meat.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Jacob concurred.  “This isn’t a Rothschild?”

“No, you pig!” The guinea pig riposted. “I am a Rockefeller!”

“You are a lawyer, a pol, and a filthy Talmudic Jew!” Elbo shouted, striking the guinea pig’s face. “You are an enemy of the human race, and you will die a horrible death right here in this man’s laboratory. For once in your parasitic existence you will be of some slight service to mankind!”

Elbo turned to Jacob and said. “See, Jake. Like I said. No Khazar. No Rothschild.”

“I see, Elbo.” Jacob replied, as Elbo turned away in shame. Then, shaking his head very slightly to show his disappointment, Elbo turned back to Jacob and asked. “Have I really risked my life and wasted my time bringing you this useless present, Jake?”

“It’s too soon to tell, Elbo.” Jacob replied. “But there is room for hope. There’s much speculation around the fact that the Rothschilds put their semen into the cunts of many Sephardic Jewesses over the years. This may be an offspring of one of those horrible miscegenations. I can only test it and see.”

“You do that.” Elbo replied.

“Whatever happens.  It wasn’t a waste, Elbo.” Rav said.

“How so, Rav?” Elbo asked.

“No matter how you cut it, there will be one less lawyer-pol in the world, after Jake finishes with it.”

“Thanks, Rav.” Elbo replied, gratefully. “We can still look on the positive side, can’t we?”

“Sure can, Elbo, and I’ll be letting you know.” Jacob said.

“I know you will.” Elbo said.

Rav asked. “What seems to be the difficulty with the research, Jake?”

“I’m not sure.” Jacob replied. “After examining 90% of all my Mayer Amschel Bauer DNA, I have still not found one receptor protein, on any Rothschild cell, that complements any of the zio+ sequences. I know my zio+ DNA is exclusive to Rothschild and yet no receptor exons. All the DNA I gathered complements internal cellular proteins or is just intron trash. Maybe with this half-bred monkey my luck will change.”

“Fuck you!” The half-bred monkey interposed, before Elbo could curtail the outburst.

“Let’s hope so, Jake.” Rav said. “You’re giving a lot of your life to this aspiration. You have my sincere support.”

“Mine too, Jake.” Elbo agreed.

“We’ll be leaving you now to your work.” Rav concluded.

“Okay.” Jacob answered. “And thanks.”

The older men waved as they left. Jacob’s technicians came over and asked him what he wanted them to do with the subhuman. There was only one laboratory cage in the lab and that was for a red-haired guariba. Rav sometimes used these guaribas as surrogate mothers for his transhuman experiments. They put the Sephardic Jew in that cage temporarily and labeled it the Rockefeller ape.

Within a few days, Rav sent over a larger cage to hold the Rockefeller ape. Jacob immediately set about taking flesh samples. He wasted no time in looking for a viable complementary cell receptor in the new hominid. The first sample brought indications of success. One of the peptides generated from a particular zio+ sequence had avid affinity for some of the tissue from the new lab animal.

Not wanting to get overly-excited, Jacob went out to stare at the river for a while. Only after a few deep breaths did he let himself feel the full exhilaration of success. It was the advance that he had been looking for for the past two years. He wanted to confirm it with more experiments on fresh Rothschilds. Instead, he performed another 12 trials, using different tissues of the same Rockefeller ape.

They all proved to either confirm the earlier success or show absolutely nothing. That meant to Jacob that the receptor was not a common interior cellular protein. Could he now use the new data to build a ziovirus? Rav Aloirav would know. The man was immediately consulted.

Rav felt Jacob’s minor success was not yet enough to justify the additional incursion. He was not ready for such a deep investment. They must know if the receptor found in the Rockefeller ape was a real Rothschild attribute passed into some of the Rockefellers or just a freak artifact of the (Rockefeller — zio+ sequence) synergy. Was Jacob successful with the Rockefeller ape just because it was a Rockefeller? If so, his quest for a Rothschild gene was most likely a bust. Or, was it that all his earlier trials were failures because he was just confused?

Did they all fail due to his New York Rothschild flesh samples being somehow degraded, or was it because his hands were just not “golden”?  Why did the 666 meat not show the same receptor presence as did the Rockefeller ape’s meat? The zio+ sequences came from Khazar Rothschild mutants not Rockefeller Marranos apes. Something was wrong with Jacob’s research, and Jacob knew Rav was right. It presented Jacob with a great reversal.

Rav gave all the assistance he could, keeping Elbo appraised of the details. Jacob’s euphoria, nevertheless, once again, crashed into dejection. He finally could take it no longer and took a leave from the clandestine lab. He went into the jungle to find one of his girlfriends in the indigenous areas. It was a very dangerous journey. Rav and Jacob both knew it.

Deep interior Yanomami could be vicious murdering savages, more treacherous than a U.S. feminist lawyer.  Jacob was ill-equipped to deal with such warlike people. But, he kept on following his compass deeper and deeper into the triple canopy. Every day brought him closer to the village he had only seen once from the air. He slept in the jungle every night and negotiated around the chiririqi brambles during the day.

The fear and strangeness of his surroundings brought his mind to its most poignant state of awareness in many months. Jacob walked and stumbled through the bush for most of a week, until found the village for which he was searching. His erstwhile girlfriend was sleeping with an old Yanomami elder. Jacob bought her away from the man with some gifts he brought along for that purpose. After living in the tribe with the girl for a few weeks, Jacob felt he knew what had gone wrong with his receptor research. Re-thinking the things he thought about, stumbling through the forest, now in the tranquility of the Amazon village, it came to him.

He could no longer live the Yanomami life, as well. His sabbatical was over. It was time to return to his aspiration. His now-pregnant girlfriend accompanied him to the New Society compound. There he gave her his goodbyes.

She screamed for a while, manifesting an approved measure of expected separation anxiety, feigned & genuine. When both felt she had put on a sufficient show, (and people were beginning to notice), she accepted some nice presents and left Jacob in peace for a time.

Jacob explained to Rav where he thought he had gone wrong in the Rothschild receptor isolation. It was not to be an easily-remedied problem.  Jacob would need some live genuine Rothschilds to solve it. He needed to replicate the exact protocol he used on the Sephardic ape. It would be a serious challenge to get such beings into the jungle unobserved.

Neither man felt it merited either the risk or the expense. Jacob would have to draconically reduce a highly-truncated version of a portable research system. He would need to ensconce it in an apartment near possible 666 capture points. That apartment would need to be in one or another of the capitals of the countries of Europe. Risk was enormous.

Jacob would need all the skills of serial killing to pull it off. He would be unable to keep accurate notes on or near his person. Every step he made would have to be reported to a secure recording center elsewhere.  If he was successful, he would find a complementary zio+ receptor in a genetic Rothschild.  His protocol and off-site notes would then be necessary to inform the future ziovirus creation program in a New Society laboratory.

In Andirobal, Maranhao, with Rav’s help, Jacob constructed a portable lab. Rav had experience in such matters from his own early days in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Now, with a successful life behind him, the hotelier could also assist Jacob with that and other resources. Jacob moved the abbreviated new lab to Paris. He went to look up Philo and found him dozing in a rocker in his old dowager hotel.

Philo was getting old and no longer wished to risk his freedom in the manner such that Jacob required. Jacob did learn from him of some possible apartments where he would be relatively safe in his undertaking. Jacob moved his lab there. He also began attending the theater and taking in art gallery expositions, until he discovered a few genuine Rothschilds. Jacob stalked 666s, until he discovered patterns in their behavior.

Once he was certain of a sure capture method for one, he got advice from Philo on how to put together a crew of Paris hooligans.  Philo’s advice was invaluable. Jacob soon captured his desired mutant. The hooligans brought the 666 to the portable lab. Jacob performed the needed research.

The system lent itself to repetition, and within a few Rothschilds Jacob’s proposed solution to the problem bore fruit. He discovered his Rothschild zio+ receptor where he found it in the Rockefeller ape. The protein was also identical to the Rockefeller ape’s receptor with but one base – amino acid substitution. Jacob was elated. He was ready to abandon the apartment.

Shipping the lab back to Brazil seemed too impecunious for the risk. After burning everything personal, Jacob wiped down all the equipment. He left a phony passport in a protected area in the flat. The passport contained a much-despoiled old picture of him on the photo page. It would throw his critics into months-long states of confusion. All his protocols and research results were by now already in an encrypted computer in Andirobal, waiting for his return.

Jacob instructed the hooligans to dump the Rothschild remains in the Seine. He then made the apartment look like a clandestine meth lab and exploded it. Jacob watched all his security maneuvers from a safe distance.  He paid his hooligans well and spent a few nights with Philo before leaving for San Luis, Maranhao. Within a week, Jacob and Rav were working together in the jungle compound.

Elbo said the entire world must know what a technological advance of the sort meant to humanity and the planet. Rav said it was enough, for the time being, that only the cognoscenti knew. Regardless, it would be hard to keep notice of such a discovery from getting out into the world. Rav Aloirav went right to work on the ziovirus. At last, humanity was on the verge of curing itself of the Rothschild cancer.

This was one virus for which Rav Aloirav said he would never provide a vaccine.  No matter what type of person or extenuating circumstances were involved, anyone harboring the zio+ receptor must die. This Rothschild mutation’s existence was far too dangerous to allow anyone with 666 DNA to persist. Only one survivor would be enough to possibly produce someday another banking dynasty. It was not long before the lab was producing large quantities of an Ebola virus variant with a zio+ receptor-recognizing envelope.

The New Society poured all their stored serum into special ziovirus incubators. They were all set at the maximum to mass produce the cellular hosts and parasitizing viruses. Rav Aloirav notified Elbo that lawyer-pol carcass fluids were urgently needed in the Amazon. Elbo set out new quotas for acquiring around the world. Serum production machinery began appearing in his cravat-cleaning warehouses around the world.

It became a new facet of Elbo’s business and was soon high priority. Elbo needed to instruct his people in extracting blood from acquisitions in different ways. Bleeding must start while subhuman corpses were still warm. The new setup required much re-tooling. Alternative methods, using more sanitary measures, were obligatory. Elbo borrowed techniques from the pharmaceutical companies’ Best Manufacturing Practices (BMP). This entailed instituting new procedures before comminuting and lyophilization – desiccation operations could begin.

The first viral trials were carried out in Danzig, Poland. Jacob deployed the virus via a Cessna 172 airplane. He used a small fan, and an aerosol machine, with a polyacrylamide-agarose desiccation protector. Later, cadres of investigators from the New Society stopped in at all the city’s hospitals to search for victims of the ziovirus. No patients answering Ebola-Dengue symptoms were in residence as patients.

Once again, Jacob’s hopes took off. He never expected to find Rothschild DNA in Gdansk. Viral impotence confirmed it, also confirming his virus’ selectivity. It would not be long, and they would be seeing some real Khazar carnage. Among the cartels in countries, known to have illuminati families with 666 DNA, there would soon be terror and consternation.

Although the virus did not seem to be very contagious, it was very virulent. The Rockefeller ape in Jacob’s jungle cage succumbed within three days, bleeding from every orifice. After removing the ape’s blood, they threw the hemorrhagic ravaged body to the jacare’ and piranhas. They were the first animals to enjoy the new 666 condition. Jacob was starting to lift humanity’s yoke.

Jacob carried 3kilos of virus to Paris, imbedded in a pasty flour of agar and acrylamide micro beads, disguised as a cheese soufflé. He rented another Cessna 172 there, deploying the virus over the city with a fan, as he did in Gdansk. Not long after, the carnage arrived, and the scene became overwhelming. Rothschilds and their bastards entered hospitals in droves. Jacob’s investigators found the hospitals to be filled to capacity less than a week later. Ziovirus victims, hemorrhaging at every opportunity, filled the beds.

Jacob, filled to capacity level with joy at his success, took a flight to Spain’s Canary Islands. The story opens with him now waiting for his contact at Café Padilla, Puerto de la Cruz, Tenerife. He is making a valiant effort at dictating his alias’s autobiography.

 

Bill Gatres was having a bad day. He couldn’t understand why the quack was lying to him. “He behaves as if he doesn’t know I’m filthy rich! Is he soft?! Isn’t he aware that rich people are the best people? We are the world’s exemplars. We can’t be fooled like normal people. We’re too intelligent. Why is he trying to attempt it?”

“No, Mr. Gatres. Your perspective is incorrect.” The exasperated messenger replied. “Some vaccines are good. Not all of them are political weapons.”

“All those my companies produce are political.” Gatres riposted.

“I know sir.” The messenger said. “But not these. These are from the “Top”.”

“I don’t believe it! Not true!” Gatres continued to rave. “Vaccines kill. I’ve got proof! I’ve sold over 132 classes of vaccines, antiretrovirals and protease inhibitors. They are all designed by people smarter than you to kill the recipients or make them sick and sterile, or depress viability. You’re absolutely wrong!”

“You saw my credentials, Mr. Gatres.” The quack said. “You know I’ve been sent by the “Top”.”

“I saw your papers, and I am studying the cognitive dissonance they engender.” Gatres replied.

A short distance away, Ted Turnrer turned to George Sorors and said. “How are we going to convince this yoyo that there are such things as real vaccines?”

George Sorors replied. “I don’t know. Does it matter? If Harvard couldn’t teach him anything . . . Is it really necessary? Who cares if he and his family expire along with the unwashed?”

“You’re right.” Ted Turnrer replied. “He’s too stupid to be part of the new South American Society anyway. You heard what the “Top” said about the new transhumans – only the most intelligent will be allowed to insert their DNA into the prototype’s subassemblies. Net worth will only get you onto the first list.”

“Damn! How’d he ever get to be so rich?” Sorors asked. “It’s embarrassing!”

“Same way you did, George.” Turnrer answered. “He stole from his betters.”

“Gatres wants us to believe he’s Ashkenazi.” Sorors added, ignoring Turnrer’s insult. “With that schnozz! Can you believe it? A Khazar?! He’s a Sephardic Jew if there ever was one.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Turnrer said.

“Let’s see if I got what the quack is saying?” Sorors said. “We need to take at least 5 of these new vaccines before “Top” unleashes worldwide population reduction measures. Right?”

“That’s what I heard him say.”  Turnrer agreed. “It’s his preparation to initiate the second tier of depopulation measures.”

Sorors said. “Yeah. If I’m correct, he said “Top” plans on following up on the nuclear war with an initial assault wave of Gatres’ Ebola variant. The nuclear war will reduce population in the northern hemisphere by 95% but leave it contaminated for at least our lifetime. The southern hemisphere will still be populated and largely uncontaminated by fallout.”

“Hence the need for depopulation via biological means down there.” Turnrer said.

“It should be okay for us.”  Sorors added.

“Provided we take the Potassium and Iodine supplements” Turnrer added.

“Yeah.”

“That’s why the Ebola variant deployment and our need for vaccines.” Turnrer continued.

“He said, later, a booster assault with a rabies variety will take out all but 5% of the current South American monkeys.” Sorors said.

“He wants to keep some of the monkeys alive to assist us in the transition, I would assume?” Turnrer said.

“I expected that that was the reason too.” Sorors agreed.

“We’ll also be protected from that latter virus, I presume?” Turnrer queried.

“Of course.” Sorors replied. “That’s what he said.”

“Did he say that? I didn’t catch it.” Turnrer queried.

“Of course. You need to pay closer attention, Ted.” Sorors remarked.

“I suppose you’re right. Something still bothers me about all of this though.” Turnrer said.

“What?”

“Remember that guy in Brazil, that bioweapons expert, mocking us for trusting the “Top”?” Turnrer asked.

“Vaguely.” Sorors replied, uncertainly.

“That guy that said a few years ago that the “Top” was gonna’ take us all out along with the entire Bilderberger bunch?” Turnrer continued.

“Oh, yeah.” Sorors agreed.

“I wondered why we’re getting all these vaccines.” Turnrer said.

“Yeah.” Sorors said. “It does make you think. We could turn on him just as the unwashed could.”

“He must know that?” Turnrer said.

“Absolutely!” Sorors agreed. “You don’t get to our level; I mean the resources we manage . . .”

“Of course, you don’t!” Turnrer said. “He knows how we got our resources. Face it! Might as well say it. You don’t get rich without betraying others’ trust.”

“Of course you don’t.” Sorors said. “Only fools trust or demonstrate gratitude for assistance.”

“Are we fools, George? Maybe he just wants us to feel secure.” Turnrer postulated. “Like all those rubes we’ve fluorided.”

“That has crossed my mind. Sorors said, laughing nervously. “It’s what I was thinking too.”

“No.” Turnrer replied. “It’s just paranoia. I understand why he wants them gone and not us. He needs us intelligent few to help him re-establish a community after everything is in disarray.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Sorors agreed.  “We wealthy are wealthy because we’ve proven our intelligence and worth.  These others have proven their stupidity and dearth of value by their lack of wealth.”

“That about sums it up.” Turnrer riposted.

“As you said once, long ago.” Sorors said. “We are not just like those useless eaters. We have value. We won’t be culled.”

“They just consume and consume.” Turnrer added. “Even their misfits and genetically deficient get free rides.”

“Yeah. They let their old and dying live on and on as if their resources will continue forever.” Sorors said. “Then, they scream for help when they don’t!”

“As if the planet can support them and their miserable species, ad infinitum.”  Turnrer said.  “I don’t understand why they want to live such squalid existences, anyway.”

Gatres, (by this time had terminated his conversation with the quack), joined the others, asking. “Am I missing anything?”

“No, Bill.” Sorors replied. “We were just discussing the great culling.”

“Oh.” Gatres said. “I got tied up with that stupid messenger. Do you believe that guy, thinking we’re going to fall for his spiel?”

“No Bill. We aren’t falling for it.” Sorors replied. “We’re not so silly.

“Clearly not!” Gatres said.

“Imagine taking medicine!” Turnrer played along with Sorors. “From pharmaceutical companies! Gotta’ be nuts!”

“That’s for sure.” Sorors added.

“I gotta’ hand it to you, Bill.” Turnrer said. “Getting these fools to buy your anti-retrovirals and protease inhibitors . . . and for decades too!”

“Why you must’ve killed half of Africa already.” Sorors quipped. “In response to just showing positive on bogus ELISA tests.”

“You’re a genius, Bill.”  Turnrer said. “My people tell me that those anti-HIV drugs you sell them knock out nigger mitochondria and leave them looking like they’re dying of T.B. – not AIDS. Smart!”

“Aw shucks.” Gatres said, modestly.

“It was just good marketing?” Sorors asked.

“I heard it was all Warren’s idea.” Turnrer asked.

“Yah.” Gatres replied. “I can’t take all the credit.”

“Really?”

Gatres said. “Yah. Warren knew fools never do due diligence. He was right. I was just a minor leaguer, until I met him. He taught me how to move into raping wholesale.”

“He’s good. I’ll give you that. That bank-bailout was a masterpiece.” Sorors agreed.

“So, you’re not going to vaccinate?” Turnrer asked Gatres.

“Hell no!” Gatres replied. “I’ve been in the pharmaceutical business for too long to fall for that line. Drugs, pharmaceuticals, and vaccines are for fools. I’d rather eat the food grown on my company’s herbicides.”

Sorors changed the subject, asking. “Do you know why that quack was 3 weeks late with the message?”

“No.” Turnrer responded. “It isn’t like the “Top” to be so lethargic.”

“Someone at the last Bilderberger meet said that “Top’s” Paris family and kin got sick.” Gatres added. “Ebola wiped ‘em out.”

“Ebola?! Really?! That’s why then.” Sorors said. “The family does most of their planning and disposition matters “in house”. If much of the relation were sick it would delay matters.”

Turnrer said. “I understand the viruses the family is planning on using to wipe out the southern hemisphere are solely owned by “Top’s” family.”

“That may be true.” Gatres replied. ““Top” owns “my” Ebola.”

”We’re very lucky we’ve been allowed to be vaccinated.” Sorors replied. “In fact the entire Bilderberger bunch is fortunate in that regard. “Top” could just as easily wipe us out – along with the unwashed.”

“What makes you think that he won’t?” Gatres asked.

“The vaccines may kill us or just be a ruse to keep us less restive.” Turnrer added.

“They were with mine.”

“Bullshit!” Sorors exploded. “Yours were to make money. You cared less about the buyers.”

“No. I was interested in calming the rage too.” Gatres said. “The fags were causing a lot of problems for my associates.”

“You were afraid, Bill?” Turnrer asked.

“You were, weren’t you?” Sorors pounced.

“Shit! Me afraid of a mark?!” Gatres riposted. “You guys are a real scream.”

“Do you believe this guy, Ted?” Sorors shouted. “He wants us to believe he wasn’t in the least bit concerned when those fags were threatening to pull down all the big Pharmas during those first AIDS days.”

“Yeah.” Turnrer added. “Bill’s a real charger, shoulda’ got a Medal of Honor.”

“At least a silver star.”

“Right.” Turnrer ambushed. “So what was it Bill? Your greed or your fear?”

“I . I . think . .” Gatres stammered.

“He thinks, George.” Turnrer mocked. “Bill thinks.”

“Turning over a new leaf, is he?” Sorors asked.At that moment the captain of the ship entered the conference area with a message from the owner. The vessel would be crossing the International Dateline soon. He thought the moguls might want to adjust their schedules accordingly. The tycoons separated. Each went back to their respective cabins.

 

D. Rothschild said. “Notify Windsor S.C.G.. It’s time to leave. Tell her to station her surrogate in the palace. The war will commence in three days. If she has not administered the vaccines yet, she’s overdue. No more waffling! The deployment infrastructure has been ordered activated one week from today. Interested families are directed to leave for Maranhao, Brazil . . . immediately.
M. Plantagenet asked. “Why Maranhao, “Top”? It’s such a pest hole?”
“It’s the least populated state in Brazil,” D. Rothschild replied. “The culling will not be pleasant. Do you want to watch it?”

“No. Of course not.” M. replied.

“We’ve got to remove the animals from South America before we can colonize it.” D. Rothschild said. “Major cities have major populations. I’m sure you can imagine the odors etc.”

“It would be . . Oh so tedious. I see your point.” M. added.

“You do not foresee any unrest?” W. Rockefeller asked.

“None.” D. Rothschild answered. “The entire population will be dead or hemorrhaging to death within two weeks. Those that are not will be vomiting and blowing fluids out their anuses from opportunistic infections. We just need to wait for the renderers to clean it all up, and give us the ready-for-habitation signal, to wander about.”

“And has nothing happened to make you feel our planning has been inadequate?” M. Plantagenet asked.

“No.” D. Rothschild answered.

“What about that Paris thing?” Q. Warburg asked.

“What “Paris thing” is that, D.?” B. Schiff asked.

“Well, actually.” D. Rothschild replied, somewhat taken aback. “Something strange has indeed occurred.”

“What?”

“Our Paris branch of the family has been completely eliminated.” D. Rothschild replied.

“Eliminated?! How “Top”?!”

“Hemorrhagic fever – all the Rothschilds, legitimate and illegitimate.” D. Rothschild explained. “Surrogates are repatriating our assets as we speak.”

“Just the Paris branch?”  Q. Warburg asked.

“No.” D. Rothschild responded, more subdued. “A cousin in my Uncle Nathan’s line was traveling from Gdansk to Warsaw. He appears to have died in Warsaw of the same fever from which the Paris Rothschilds died.”

“And you are not concerned!?” Q. asked.

“Yes, of course, I’m concerned.” D. Rothschild replied.

“That someone may have learned our plans?” O. De Medici asked.

“That thought has also occurred to me.” D. Rothschild replied.

“What are you doing about it, “Top”?” B. Schiff asked.

“I have sent people to San Luis, Brazil to investigate.” D. Rothschild replied.

“Why there?”

“That’s where people live that know the bioweapons expert, Aloirav.” D. Rothschild replied.

“There are many bioweapons experts.” X. Hanover said. “Why Him?”

“He seems to know a great deal about us, even speculates accurately on our planning and motivations.” D. Rothschild replied.

“In what way?” X. asked.

“Do you remember those at-av-neg attacks last year?” D. Rothschild asked.

“Of course.” A. Krupp replied. “We all lost friends and employees in Santa Lucia.”

“My people in weapons procurement say it was Aloirav that built the virus.” D. Rothschild replied.

“George Sorors said that the building of that virus was a work of genius.” T. Collins remembered.

“I read where he also created the first AIDS virus.” A. said.

“Who?”

“Aloirav.”

“Oh.”

“3.” B. Schiff corrected in an aside comment.

“3 what?” A. asked.

“The Pontibus Journal says he created the first 3 AIDS viruses.” B. finished.

“There is only one man in the world that has enough knowledge of genetics, biology and our family to produce a virus that targets my family exclusively.” D. Rothschild said. “That man, or should I say – devil, is Rav Aloirav.”

“Did I hear you say the disease killed ALL your Paris family, legitimate AND illegitimate?” S. Saint Claire asked.

“That’s right, S.” D. Rothschild answered, staring intently at her.

“That makes it even more ominous, doesn’t it?”  O. De Medici said.

“Why, O.?” X. Hanover asked.

1. Rothschild preempted O. De Medici and said. “If it attacks my bloodline, we are all at risk.”

“I don’t understand, D.” X. Hanover asked. “Why are we all at risk?”

“We’re related, X.” D. Rothschild answered.

“That is only too true.” W. Oppenheimer agreed. “Our families have been intermarrying for centuries.”

“Overtly and not so overtly.” C. Bruce commented, pouring himself another Cabernet Sauvignon from one of the Rothschild vineyards’ vintages.

“If it is he who is targeting us, how will you stop him?” L. Cavendish asked. “A man productive of such a skill certainly cannot be stopped with a few bullets. Or, are you hoping to do just that?”

“No, L.” D. Rothschild replied. “I am not as obtuse as that. I was hoping to negotiate with him, perhaps make him one of us.”

“One of the 13 families?!” S. Saint Claire erupted.

(No one answered except by way of a concerned look in her direction.)

“I don’t think that will be possible.” O. De Medici added. “My people, too, have told me that they think it was he behind that assault during our St. Lucia meeting.”

“No! O.! Are you sure?” F. Reynolds exclaimed, not having heard the earlier conversations. “My sister died after leaving St. Lucia.”

“There is something else, I have not told you.” D. Rothschild said.

“What?”

“About a decade ago, maybe 2 now, the graves of my early ancestors were pillaged.” D. Rothschild replied.

“What was taken?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing!?”

“Nothing but possibly some pieces of rotted flesh.” D. Rothschild clarified. “230 years old!”

“Strange.”

“Diabolical!”

“Creepy.”

“He has a burning hatred of the illuminati, it would appear.” X. Hanover added.

“Find out where he is and nuke the entire city!” A. Krupp said.

“That won’t be possible either, A.” D. Rothschild replied. “We can’t afford to contaminate Brazil. We need to live there after the northern hemisphere is lost to us.”

“What about a SEAL team?” X. offered.

“He has his own SEAL teams to protect him.” D. Rothschild answered.

“I don’t know if I feel very well.” P. Hapsburg noted.

“What if he’s zeroing in on us right now?” S. asked.

“Those are my sentiments too.” X. said.

“He could change the entire geopolitical landscape in one fell swoop.” A. Krupp added.

“Let’s not get hysterical, P.” S. Russell commented. “It could just be a coincidence.”

“I’m afraid not, S. We cannot be so sanguine.” D. Rothschild said. “ONLY Rothschild genes died in Paris from that particular fever. ONLY my family’s DNA was involved. ONLY my ancestors have had flesh removed from the grave!”

“It’s gone too far to be accepted as a coincidence.” O. De Medici agreed.

“What if you deploy your viruses in Brazil, immediately? They would kill him too, wouldn’t they, D.?” C. Bundy asked.

“My security chief suggested that very same thing, C.” D. Rothschild replied. “Unfortunately, most of the best viruses in our arsenals may have been built by Aloirav.”

“How? Why?” A. Krupp asked.

“We used one of Aloirav’s traitors to acquire some of his repertoire.” D. Rothschild answered.

“A man as resourceful as he appears to be would not build a virus that could kill him without building a vaccine for it too.” T. Collins offered.

“Why not?” E. DuPont asked.

“Would he be as stupid as you, E.!?”  G. Freeman riposted. “Think! E.!”

“Aloirav once said. “We exist only because we are perverse.” P. Hapsburg said. “I’m beginning to understand him a little now.”

“I think D. is right. We must make him one of us. At least long enough to destroy him.” Y. Li said.

“I don’t know why you still think it will be possible?” O. De Medici added, mordantly. “Santa Lucia proved how much he hates us!”

“They say he is trying to build a great bridge across the ocean.” F. Reynolds offered.

“You mean Lester Frye’s Pontibus?” T. Collins asked.

“Yes.”

“Whatever for?!” S. Saint Claire asked.

“He believes that it can save the living planet without a great culling,” F. Reynolds replied, “. . . provide limitless energy, food and water.”

“So, he’s mad?” S. Saint Claire asked.

“I don’t think so, at least not as mad as are we.” F. Reynolds answered.

“Why is a monstrous destructive devil like Aloirav trying to help a genius like Frye create something wonderful for the planet and humanity?” V. Van Duyn asked, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“There’s no way of knowing why people think the way they do.” D. Rothschild said. “If we want to live, we may have to make a pact with the devil, like Frye appears to have done.”

“One need not be a devil to sleep with demons, V.” T. Collins observed.

“Something intangible, sporadic controls our destinies.” X. Hanover added. “We are puppets, manipulated brutally and ineptly within a toxic medium.”

 

Beltover Sprunkline walked down the stone stairwell toward the breakers smashing up against the seawall. It was his first time on Tenerife. He seemed more interested in looking at the Atlantic Ocean smashing up against the rocks of Puerto de la Cruz than he was in finding his dinner companion for the evening. But, not to be ignored, she saw him.  Shouting from her seat at one of the littoral tables she cried. “Mr. Sprunkline, Mr. Sprunkline!”

Beltover started when he heard his name and went right over to the woman’s table. He stuck out his hand, and the woman did similarly. “Mr. Sprunkline, my name is Sarah Koplik. I’m Stanley’s daughter.”

“You’re Elboruh Lebensrau’s daughter?”

“Yes. Were you expecting someone else?”

“I don’t know who I was expecting, I guess. Elbo’s instructions were to meet someone at this restaurant.”

“Someone from the Burning Fasces Movement, no?”

“Yes.”

“I’m that person.”

“Can you tell me why we’re meeting?”

“I can give you some information.” Sarah said. “That gentleman at the table over there right next to the seawall can give you more.”

“He can?”

“Yes. In a few minutes my father’s representative, Silmara, will be here.” Sarah continued. “You know her, I understand?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve known Silmara for years.” Mr. Sprunkline replied.

“She will take us over to him. He does not know us but he knows her, and we know her.”

“Sounds secure enough.” Beltover said. “What’s this all about?”

“My father wants your help and that gentleman’s too. He feels that your working together, while using our infrastructure and clandestine army we can do great things.” Sarah replied.

“Such as?”

“We now have a good chance to eradicate forever the illuminati from the face of the Earth.” Sarah said, unconsciously looking around her as she said the latter.

“Really?! That is wonderful!” Beltover exclaimed. “What does that man have that we need to talk to him about?”

Just then a tall beautiful Brazilian woman approached their table and sat down with them. Both knew her. The part Guarani woman’s larger-than-life presence made Beltover forget his earlier question to Sarah. Sarah noticed how Silmara’s entrance nonplussed Beltover. She immediately told Silmara about Beltover’s query.

Silmara said. “Belt. We have a very important job for you.  Elbo and Rav want you to go to Germany tomorrow.”

“What for, Silmara?” Beltover asked.

“Our people have heard a rumor that the illuminati plan on using the present conflict in Kazakhstan to initiate a nuclear war that will immolate the entire northern hemisphere. The 13 families plan on escaping to South America before that occurs. They will then release bioweapons on the inhabitants that will depopulate the entire continent and establish illuminati hegemony.”

“So, how can I be of assistance?”

“Rav and Elbo would like you to supervise the deployment of your at-av-neg virus, as you did last year at the illuminati meeting in Saint Lucia?”

“The Burning Fasces people will be at my disposal again?” Belt asked.

“That’s correct.”

“Why do we need that man over by the seawall?” Belt asked.

“Oh, you know about him?”

“Not much.” Belt replied, not implicating Sarah. “Just that he’s with us.”

“Yes, he is. Let’s go over and meet him.” Silmara said. “I’ll introduce you and explain more over there.”

“Silmara did the introductions, saying to Beltover. “This man is Jacob Schloss, Belt. As you have built the very first at-av-neg deletion virus, Jacob has built the only virus that exists that can completely remove the Rothschild genetic strain of mutant subhuman from the planet.”

“Whew! Is that so, Jacob?!” Beltover exclaimed. “I’m so honored to meet you sir.”

“Well, Mr. Sprunkline. I too am honored.” Jacob replied. “You have no idea how much I have always wanted to talk to the man who uncovered that gene and built the virus from the linear deletion flanks.”

“Gentlemen.” Silmara interrupted. “Sorry to be a bore but now that you’ve met, we need to talk shop. It is within our power to cut the head off fascism tomorrow, forever. We cannot do that exchanging pleasantries, ad infinitum.”

“Of course.” They agreed, and Silmara continued. “We have discovered a small village in Germany where representatives of most of the 13 families are staying. We want the ziovirus deployed there at daybreak. At-av-neg mutants that survive the ziovirus’s deployment will be mopped up, so to speak, with Belt’s at-av-neg virus.”

“I’ll need my supplies,” Jacob said.

“Me too” Belt added.

“Canisters of sufficient virus are already on site. They just need you to release them as you see fit. All the equipment necessary is also on site. Small fixed-wing aircraft are at your disposal at the local airport. We want you to work together. Jacob is relatively new to deployment strategies and problems. Belt, you are not. Jacob has the means to destroy the Zionist Jewish plague forever. He does not have enough experience to be confident of victory yet. There is no room for on-the-job-training errors at this point. Am I understood?”

Both men nodded their heads. The meeting ended with itineraries and responsibilities well-ensconced in each person’s mind. Silmara left with Beltover, and Jacob left with Sarah.

 

Without the war’s prime mover, D. Rothschild et al., nuclear devices were never deployed in Kazakhstan. The northern hemisphere was not turned into a contaminated wasteland. South America was not depopulated by bioweapons. Without Rothschild’s incessant sticks being poked in their eyes, belligerent parties around the world discussed problems. They worked out their differences.

Differences found eventually to be minuscule, wars ended before opening into general hostilities. People finally discovered Lester Frye. The world built the great Pontibus bridges, outlawing forever nuclear power and weapons of any type. Very few subhumans still breathed. It was estimated by the World Health Organization that 750 million at-av-neg subhumans succumbed to the at-av-neg virus.

As part of this great dying, over 100,000 Rothschild-relationed subhumans also died from the ziofever. The few Rothschild survivors seemed to truly have very bad luck. No sooner had they recovered from the ziofever than the at-av-neg virus struck and ended all their trials upon this planet. Both these viruses were strains of Ebola, and the symptoms and progression of the disease were identical to other Ebola strains. Yet, for some reason, these viruses were refractory to the Gatres Ebola vaccine.

After the great demise of the French and German Illuminati, the world learned the truth. Just a few weeks after the great Kazakhstan peace, Rothschilds et al, plus their relatives all around the world, had taken sick. The strange, ziofever, compounded with the at-av-neg hemorrhagic fever, diminished the planet’s population to 7 billion souls. Bringing population down but a short billion was not sufficient to satisfy the Georgia Guide stones. Nevertheless, nearly all survivors were missioned humans.

The Pontibus Bridges could use and house each one. The Rothschild contamination of the Earth had been very pervasive. Human survivors that did not emigrate to the great Pontibus Bridges, or who, (like lawyers, pols, bankers, etc.) were prohibited access) were now inhabitants of a sparsely populated planet. On the First Surface, feudal bands and capitalistic anarchistic communes sprang up around the globe. The communes never reached numbers of more than a few hundred persons.

They ran their societies just on human respect and consensus among inhabitants. These communes vied for supremacy with the feudal bands. Bloody wars opened up between these factions. The modern nation state system was dead. It was soon only a distant memory, although that nostalgia persisted for over a century.

Pontibus residents, of course, regulated themselves according to the Pontibus Council and the Governor. Anyone trying to push religion, establish a nation state, demo – demento – or theo – cracy, was designated an ignorant savage. On the First Surface these brutes were immediately stoned to death by the populace. On the Pontibus they were “re-educated” or thrown over the side.

All the better qualities of humanity . . . higher aspirations, creativity, caring for animals and friends, protecting women and children, homicide, etc. continued in the new communities.

 

OFF THE WALL

By Larry Lee Slot

The following piece is written by an old man. It has very little connection to what the majority (normal people) would consider a nice, balanced, politically-correct discourse.  It comes dangerously close to, perhaps even impinges on, something that can only be termed as common sense. As such, it has absolutely no place in today’s world. Throw it away! !!!IMMEDIATELY!!!

 

Ahhh, too late.

 

It is not without some trepidation that I write this. But, it is necessary. After reading The Pontibus Journal, some might harbor false impressions about my thinking. Being so close to the end, it would be serious negligence on my part to leave in such a state of affairs.

Internet sentiment is very negative with respect to the heroic warriors that recently removed some developmental parasites in San Bernardino. It seems the heroes either escaped, (leaving some dead Muslim as scapegoats), or were indeed truly Muslim avengers. We need to ferret out some truth here. Islam is as much a perversion of human evolution as is Judaism or Christianity. All three are death-worshipping creeds, pandering to hopelessly ignorant and demented cowards. Islam is more violent, but its practitioners are no less mentally-deranged (sick) than the other two. All are “God-fearing men”. That means men who have an unreasoning terror of the death they worship.

 

Let’s review a little history. The Jewnited States, over the last7 decades, has starved, burned, maimed and murdered millions of innocent healthy Muslims in Palestine, Iran, Iraq, Libya, Afghanistan, Syria, etc.. It threatened the same treatment for millions more in other Muslim areas. Such actions do not take place in a vacuum. Did the Americans really believe they could rent their souls to racist Talmudic Jews for over half a century and not pay a terrible price?

Can they really blame some Muslims for exacting revenge?

“Absolutely!” the Americans answer, “we can blame those nasty terrorists! We would never ever do such dastardly deeds ourselves!”

Of course they wouldn’t. They hide behind the ballot box and let their whore pols do it for them. And then, they don’t even have the guts or common decency to kill those kept Israeli trollops for which they voted.  On Zionist demands, the American pols have been cutting American and America’s children’s throats for decades. It’s just accepted, because cowardly slaves accept life on their knees.

Humans die on their feet, but there are very few humans left in the Jewnited States. Americans in 2015 Grand Rapids, Michigan and Jews in 1940 Berlin are enantiomers of each other. I’m so sure the majority of Americans in the Jewnited States would not contemplate rightful revenge that I have set a little fairytale to their dissonant music.

 

Once upon a time, a Grand Rapids, Michigan bad man came to my town. He went directly up to my Christian gun-free anti-racist home.  As a prologue, he cited a plethora of pious religious references (“thou shalt not kill”, “turn the other cheek”, “love thy neighbor as thyself”, etc.). I’m sure it was to justify his impunity as well as to calm me down. It worked.

Then, he fell into a rigor that seemed to me that he was determined to murder my wife and all my children. Though I loved my family dearly, I but watched in pain as each one fell to his onslaught. After the first few minutes, he only succeeded in killing my wife and all my children except one. I could see he was disappointed. I felt badly for his sadness in failing to kill them all.

I put my arm on his shoulder and asked if I could pray for him. He said nothing, but I sympathized with him anyway. Did I want revenge? Of course I didn’t! “Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.”

Later, he found my darling youngest child. He also killed her. He killed my little 3-year-old daughter, which I loved even more than my own life. God was testing me, I know.

The bad man had now killed all my loved ones.  Did I seek recompense?

Of course I didn’t! I went up to him and shook his hand. Then I asked my family’s assassin into my home. There, in those bloody environs, we shared a meal. How could anyone think that I, a born-again Christian, would actually want revenge?!

Since I, obviously, do not want revenge, why should a Muslim in a similar situation want it? Right?! See how easily that works? “None so blind as he who would not see.”

 

Americans feel NO guilt for the atrocities performed in their name. They feel no shame regarding the millions of innocent Arab children they’ve genocided with their taxes and gifts to Nazi Israel. Why not? Because, they felt the assorted crimes against humanity were necessary?  Yes.

Unquestionably, those crimes were necessary! Because . . .? The 13 Rothschild et al. families’ caedere wealth must grow and the blood-letting must continue & U.S. living standards must be maintained & Sitcoms & pro-sports must be viewed & American rights to incredible abiding ignorance and cowardice must be protected.

Americans are dead-sure of their correct moral & geopolitical position. As late as today, they’ve told their dear courtesan pols that they want to continue bleeding to support the monstrous, baby-burning, innocent-killing, genociding State of Israel. They want to stigmatize all critics of the Jewnited States’ Government. They want to call legitimate criticism nothing but conspiracy peddling, racism and anti-Semitism. They want to single out and ostracize decent people with “no-fly” lists. They want to justify throwing into the mud the U.S. Constitution.

Men far more honorable than I, and I, laid our lives on the line for that old beloved document. The undisguised cowardice of allowing some venal demented old legal farts, attorney-pols, and lying thieving police the right to interpret it into impotence is more than enough justification for this unpleasant discourse. Americans now call the concerned “nay-sayers” criminals, terrorists, degenerates and lone wolves. Americans even pray to their insane monster god, Jehovah. “Please, dear god, help us destroy all of our guns. Give that blood-soaked Constitution to our demented President to use as hygienic paper!”

How can a people, so enslaved, possessed by such overwhelming cowardice, also find the energy to be criminals against humanity!? Is it all accomplished, using smoke and mirrors in the service of the word “vicarious”? Is it democracy, rule of the majority, which achieves it? Could it be the anti-depressant drugs the voters take to stay crazy enough to keep from committing suicide? Is it the plethora of anti-depressant drugs that pass through the sewage treatment plants and make their way back to the drinking water tap? Or, could it be . . . . because they just don’t give a ****?! I think it’s a combination of all of the above five.

 

Now for a bit more common sense that has no business being discussed in polite company. Suppose the perpetrators of the San Bernardino massacre were not vengeful Muslims! Suppose, they were civic-minded selfless honorable people. They would now be termed criminals, hunted down and exterminated. “How could they possibly be seen as civic-minded selfless honorable people?!” An “innocent” bystander counters. “They are vicious criminals! That’s all there is to it!”

Well. That is very true. They were indeed vicious criminals. But, that is NOT all there is to it. Today, we humans have a serious moral dilemma. These vicious criminals did indeed help society in a small way by ridding it of a few freaks and their blood-sucking caretakers.

Not true? Isn’t it something to consider? Is that so wrong, so “off-the-wall”? Of course, it’s illegal! But, is it WRONG?

Our planet is dying from extinctions & resource exhaustion due to “human” over-population. Only religious imbeciles and economists, riding on the “ignorance-is-blessed” bandwagon, harbor doubts there. That in itself says much. Does any stronger correlation exist, anywhere, than that between breathtaking human ignorance and religion? Are they not directly proportional?

Anyone with a functioning cerebrum knows we are headed for a great ecological disaster.    Polite society is also potentiating 13 families of caedere maniacs to destroy us all soon in some huge atomic or biological cataclysm. Will there be a natural culling?  Will it be accomplished according to Darwinian principles? NO! It will be a survival of the richest. The fittest will die first.

Isn’t it true that any female damn fool can get pregnant, and usually does? Of course. Does that then mean we have to willy-nilly maintain the freaks that pop out of her vagina until they inundate our healthy children in their subhuman garbage!? Society does not seem to have the will or the courage to police itself eugenically or with more than half-hearted euthanasia. Why must it criticize people who do have that spirit and strength?

Suspend, for a moment, the issue of morality for being the red herring it is. We are speaking about survival . . our survival. Our very survival DEMANDS eugenics! The reason for most of the criticism in San Bernardino is because the deed was against the Law!? The Law! Isn’t that ridiculous?!

Written Law, the tool of a blessed rigged protection-racket, used as an authority! Licensed assassins, thieves and enslavers, called lawyers, use “Law” to rip-off the populace, milk the poor, and concomitantly provide a sinecure for their own criminality. Written Law is like Religion, an opium, a formula for perversion. The practitioners of both Law and Religion are charlatans & enslavers. Given their venal way they would obstruct all reasonable action anywhere.

Americans everywhere no longer have the manhood to take matters into their own hands to seek justice. The cowards throw their manhood on the “Let the police handle it” dictum altar. Lying, thieving police, their lying thieving legal cohorts, their lying thieving judges, and their lying thieving pols will handle you right into jail, poverty, or slavery! It’s the most common convenient exculpatory whine of the perpetual victim, slave & weakling. 1984 is here!

Furthermore, how can the San Bernardino shooters be termed any more criminal than those traitors in Washington!? Those drunken sots, on their knees to the Jews, are destroying our liberty by the nanosecond! The entire government of the Jewnited States today is run by criminals and psychopaths, whores of Israel and Rothschild et al. They have absolutely no sense of public service – only that of personal aggrandizement. There is not one pol in the entire Jewnited States worth more than the 7.62 mm round it would take to “develop” him or her.

The majority of the human race’s 7.5 billion individuals is brutal, corrupt, base, ignorant, demented and cowardly. Majorities supposedly rule in democracies. The human race has become a herd of maniacs of late! With such voters, how can any democracy avoid facilitating creeping totalitarianism? The drive to 1984ish totalitarianism is just   another by-product of over-population.

Jew World Government, i.e. totalitarianism, by definition, represses diversity. Loss of diversity is rigidity. Rigidity in any organism is a harbinger of death. Rigidity in a species is prelude to extinction. If we are to survive, society must take itself by the throat. It must shake those vapid politically-correct bogus notions out of our collective mouths.

It must demand a culture of adherence to stringent principles of biosustainability. Our values as a species must be smelted in the crucible of human evolution. Everything possible that contributes to the perpetuation of healthy protoplasm and the destruction of the state must be instituted immediately. Why can sentient beings not see that our very survival is at stake?

Unfortunately, those that can see the impending doom feel all they need do is sit back and discuss, ad infinitum. They behave like all the other ignorant, demented American voting eunuchs!  Survival means blood, eugenics and euthanasia. NOW! Without the Great Transatlantic Pontibus Bridges as habitat, there are 7 billion too many Homos on this planet.

Notwithstanding the popular nonsense rhetoric of how our society will fare in a hundred years, the reality is not so pleasant. Increasingly stringent desperation will cause life as we know it to completely disappear. Totalitarian winds will blow ever more oppression, torture and war. Decreasing oxygen from pollution and lost ocean algae will create more dementia, pestilence and far less food. Starvation, disease, war, tyranny and death will be the dominant forces. The death phase of the growth curve will soon be upon us.

If all such developmental freaks, like those “victims” in San Bernardino, were removed there would instantaneously be 1.2 billion fewer parasites. The planet’s life would cease bleeding to death.  Our chances for survival would stop being sucked down into the maw of oblivion. The increase in oxygen pressure alone would augment human productivity by 16%. The decrease in heat-trapping gases would be like cutting the global warming propensity of thirty thousand coal-fired energy plants. The return of lost ozone would increase food supply by 2 billion tons (provided we also threw the freaks’ parasitic caretakers in the same recycling machine).

Is there some clandestine organization, (symbolized by the San Bernardino shooters), dedicated to removing genetic misfits and biological freaks? One is seriously needed, but I fear the opposite is true. In spite of the hate & horror with which I am read, from my Beverly Hills abode, I would like to be the first to express my sincere gratitude to the San Bernardino heroes, whoever they were.

One last off-the-wall common sense rant and you can call the thought-police to report my copious pre-crimes.  A closely related question, related to the above, has been revolving in my mind for years. Why do we conspire to allow the generation of nuclear power either to destroy us and our also-rans or to twist us all into a race of maimed freaks? Has no one the courage to risk life and limb in defending the health of the human race? Must we really render obeisance to those who, (citing superstitious nonsense as authority), would bury us in toxic garbage?

ALL people that profit from the nuclear energy industry, (either in its consumer power aspect or weaponry facet), are merchants of death. There is absolutely NOTHING positive for protoplasm in nuclear power that is not offset by a millions times as much in negative affects. As with the above eugenics situation, there does not appear to be any group or underground organization that is dedicated to searching out and destroying all those who profit from nuclear energy. Why not? Is it because their activities just are not being publicized so that we will not make a clarion call for their support?

If there are no groups dedicated to removing these death-worshipping executives and shareholders, whatever can be the matter with us? Is there nothing nearby to give hope to those of us in Common-Sense-Land?  We are being attacked on every level by the sophistry of the death-worshippers. Common-sense is ridiculed as impolitic. Do we indeed deserve to go extinct?  We are in the prelude to a fight for our lives and those of our children. If we do not engage in battle immediately we’ll rot in the same coffin as the death-worshippers.

Copyright © 2014, 2015 Hotel Aloirav

Published digitally in 2014 & 2015 by Astri – Amanayara Press

Andirobal, Maranhao, Brasil

All rights reserved

 

 

 

 

THE GARLIC PEDDLER
By Larry Lee Slot

Copyright © 2017 by Larry L. Slot, Published digitally in 2017 by Aloirav Press, Andirobal, Maranhao, Brasil. All rights reserved. © This digital book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be decirculated, lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, in any form, without the publisher’s prior written consent.

Are you a good, God-fearing, Law-abiding, patriot? Read no further! This book is not for you. Although some might consider its content Promethean, this is NOT a nice book. The iconoclasm articulated belongs to the “In Case of Emergency – Break Glass” genre. The opinions expressed herein are only to be thought about if one is willing to risk one’s eternal soul by contemplating on them.
Ravmond Aloirav

Chapter One
Like most frontier towns in Brazil, Apiaunhai boasted no Law, nor any other sewers. The dusty road, passing a little collection of mud huts, was near Venezuela about 25 kilometers from Yanomami territory. It was at the extreme northern part of Brazil in the State of Roraima. Our titular namesake cut an interesting but not uncommon figure, as he ambled along the unpaved car-path, dodging ruts filled with sewage. The ruts led directly to the town center (Praça). Five large rings of dried & twisted garlic hung around his neck. Twenty or more, attached to his belt, protected both of his lean sides from imprudent vampires. The belt held up his shortened trousers. A hammock and some books suspended off a small knapsack, and a canteen dangled from that. The hat, he sported, was not the common Brazilian straw variety but had more of a Mexican style to it. His face was a normal, sun-dried, thin, coboçlo face with eyes that betrayed his uncommon pensive demeanor.
“Alho! Alho!” He shouted. “Five Reals! Alho! Alho!”
As he reached the pagoda-like praça, he encountered a buyer and quickly pocketed the money received from the sale. The peddler continued around the praça, 2 or 3 times, shouting his desire to sell the herb. Each time he passed in front of the town’s only restaurant and bar, he stared. The object of his envy was a table supporting a beer. Two customers adorned the chairs embellishing the plastic table. Enjoying beer and tira-gostos in the shade of a Brazil tree was something the garlic peddler would have loved to experience right then. He put his hand in his pocket and found only enough change for a small lunch and a room.
He remembered seeing a couple of trees off the highway, as he entered the town. It was summer, and he could always tie his hammock to them and buy a beer with the money he saved from room rent. That still didn’t settle the issue as to whether he wanted to eat and bathe more than having that beer. As he tried to make up his mind, he looked down. The rest of his body, however, was still preoccupied cerebrally, and it turned him around in the direction from which he came. Bumping into a fellow, as he did so, he nearly knocked the man down. As it was, the jolted man let fall a small sculpture he was carrying. Escaping his preoccupation, the garlic peddler caught the object, before it could fall and break.
“Excuse me.” The peddler said to the man, returning the endangered art piece. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was thinking about something and not looking where I was going.”

“No harm done, guy.” The man answered. “I dare say, I was thinking about the same thing as you. Since you saved me from destroying two weeks of arduous labor and good taste, I should show my appreciation. Care to share a beer with me to smooth my good fortune over your embarrassment?”
“Not thinking to ask how the fellow knew he was dreaming about a beer on that hot afternoon in Brazil, the peddler replied. “I would be ever so glad, Sir, but my funds are a bit limited today, and I cannot return your kind gesture.”
“No problem.” The fellow answered. “I have recently received some bad news and need some up-cheering. Plus, I have been seriously garlic-deprived, for a few days now, and I’m sure we can make an arrangement once our fortuitous discomfiture subsides.”
“That sounds like a splendid idea to me.” The peddler replied.
The peddler had no idea, of course, in what esteem the local townspeople held his interlocutor & soon-to-be benefactor. He only knew he was about to enjoy a cold beer, during the dry summer season in equatorial South America. It was nothing short of miraculous that the provider appeared at just the right moment. Both men set their steps toward the open-air bar to sit among the bright red seeds under the Brazil tree. As they arrived, they took their plastic seats and let the waiting girl see them do so.
“Good afternoon,” the buxom 13-year-old Guarani said, as she took the order.
“Good afternoon, Leide” The local fellow replied. “We’ll have a beer. And may I use that stool over there?”
“Certainly.” The girl replied and left with their order.
In Brazil, even a fool can get a beer, and a minute later, a cold Schincariol and two plastic cups sat on the well-scratched plastic table between the two new acquaintances. The local fellow gently set the art object upon the plastic stool the bar maid brought him with the beer. The object was a plastic handcrafted old man and a dog, both naked. Around the old man’s neck was a price tag. The local fellow said to the peddler, “This is how I would like to make a few Reals, selling my art, as you do your garlic.”
The peddler looked at the art object admiringly and said. “It’s beautiful. How can you sell such a thing?”
“Like you, I must live. Existence is not cheap.” The local fellow said.
“Aye. That is true.” The peddler agreed. “I’ve been peddling my herbs for months and still do not have enough saved to even pay for a beer.”
“Why do you sell garlic?” The local fellow asked.
“I try to live simply, so that others may simply live.” The peddler answered.
“That’s a very high-level of sentiment. Unusual for this area. Are you a native?” The local fellow said.
“Yes. I understand I was born in Amazonia.” The peddler replied. “Manaus.”
“You don’t believe it?” The local fellow asked.
“Oh, yes, I do. My mother said she bought me from my birth mother at an orphan auction for 2 blouses in Paraiba’s parking lot.” The peddler explained.
“And that is uncomfortable to believe?” The local fellow said.
“Somewhat.”
“Aren’t there other things, you could sell, that would bring in more money?” The local fellow asked.
After filling his glass with some beer, the peddler replied. “Yes. There are. But . . .”
“Ye-e-e-s?”
“Well,” The peddler explained. “It’s silly, I suppose, but 99% of human disease is due to incorrect diet and insalubrious lifestyles. I don’t want my attempts at survival to assist in anyone else’s unhappiness.”
The local fellow agreed, adding. “So, you sell something with little chance of doing harm?”
“Yes.”
“Those are some high-level sentiments you have expressed.” The local fellow said. “I’m impressed.”
“Thank-you. Garlic is the only treatment that works moderately well for all ailments and has no hurtful side-effects.” The peddler said, not ignoring the compliment.
“Those sick, because of other reasons, have no business on Earth.” The local fellow said, shaking his head.
“Perhaps.” The peddler said.
“Virtually all doctors should stick to emergencies, giving advice on antibiotics, lab tests, diet & lifestyle mistakes, and stop cutting at people, prescribing drugs at them, or even suggesting drugs at them.” The local fellow said.
“You’re probably right.” The peddler said, equivocally mollifying his interlocutor.
“Have you ever talked to a doctor about your health ideas?” The local fellow asked.
“No.”
“I have discussed some things with them. The quacks talk like life-support-systems for drug pamphlets. They parrot pharmaceutical company’s generic propaganda like robots. I don’t think any of them would know how to step one degree off the pharmaceutical companies’ approved azimuth.” The local fellow said.
“I speak to very few doctors.” The peddler said, avoiding any controversial stand.
“So, you are a crusader for garlic?” The local fellow asked.
“Of course, not.” The peddler answered. “You’re mocking me.”
“No. Not at all.” The local fellow said. “We’re stuck here together, until our embarrassment-cover subsides. I’m just trying to comprehend you a little better.”
“I understand.” The peddler said. “It’s simple. I just don’t think an ostentatious display of wealth is necessary to my happiness. Particularly if someone or something has to pay for it with their distress.”
“You have many enlightened ideas. Not easily acquired in Amazonia or here in Roraima. Have you lived in Brazil all your life?” The local fellow asked.
“No. I’ve only recently returned from Europe, Africa and Asia. I’ve been traveling there for the last twenty years.” The peddler answered with some pride. “Until just this past winter, I’ve been a merchant mariner.”
“Ahh.” The local fellow said. “That explains it. I have met few people here that appreciate intellectual pursuits or ideas. Most do not even know how to pay attention.”
“I know.” The peddler agreed. “I’ve discovered the same things.”
“I’ve been in the poor way myself. Many times.” The local fellow said. “I was born poor. I’m headed that way again. Brazil will not let me make a decent living, as I do not have a CPF or a valid identity card.”
“I don’t understand.” The peddler said. “Why don’t you get one?”
“As you’ve probably noticed from my accent, I’m not a native.” The local fellow said.
“I see.” The peddler said. “How come they haven’t thrown you out?”
“I have a Brazilian child.” The local fellow said. “If I don’t break any Brazilian laws, and feed my child regularly, the Country protects me from expulsion and extradition.”
“Are you in danger of extradition?” The peddler asked.
“Yes. And as poor as I’m becoming, I’m in danger of both expulsion AND extradition.” The local fellow said.
“Really?”
“Yes. Today I learned that a tax is soon to be levied on my property here, and it may be way more than I can pay. That’s why I came here to drink my troubles away.” The local fellow said.
“That seldom works.” The peddler cautioned. “Wasting your money on beer will not help pay the tax.”
“No, it won’t.” The local fellow said. “But, as much desperation as I feel, it seems more prudent than killing the thieving mayor and the other political riffraff at the moment.”
“I agree. That’s a pretty drastic solution.” The peddler said. “Have you experience in that area?”
“Do you mean am I a murderer?” The local fellow clarified.
“W-e-l-l . . . ”
“It’s all right. I am, indeed, as you, so diffidently, describe me, “experienced in that area”.” The local fellow admitted.
“Should I be concerned?” The peddler asked.
“If you wish.” The local fellow answered. “I am very asocial.”
“I think I’ll risk it.” The peddler said. “The beer is too important.”
“It’s your funeral.” The local fellow joked, and continued. “Would you like an explanation?”
“Yes.” The peddler said. “If you are so inclined.”
“I am.” The local fellow said, and continued. “I was born in the USA, you see. And, as I said earlier, very poor. In 1964, when I was 16, I joined the US Marine Corps and went to Viet Nam to kill commies for Rothschild. I must have killed a thousand or more before returning to the US in 1968.”
“I see. That’s where you got your understanding of homicide.” The peddler asked. “How did you come to be here?”
“Like all Americans, born after 1913, I was an April 15th slave of Rothschild, bought and sold on the NY Stock Exchange. I didn’t want to remain a slave, so I escaped to Brazil. Once I had a child here, I knew I was safe, so I remained.” The local fellow answered.
“But, you are still a fugitive?” The peddler asked.
“Oh yes. I shall be so, until I die.” The local fellow answered, waving to the indigena for another beer.
At the same moment, the peddler got up to use the urinal. The local fellow saw him asking directions from another customer a few seconds later. The other customer chatted with the peddler for a minute or two before releasing him to his bladder relief. The local fellow noticed the loquacious customer looking over at the peddler’s vacant seat, two or three times, while conversing with the peddler. The new beer arrived, and the peddler returned shortly thereafter. The local fellow filled the peddler’s cup and casually asked the peddler about his pre-urinal conversation with the chatty customer. The peddler waved aside the question and tried to make some small talk, but the local fellow was persistent.
The peddler looked embarrassed and said. “He told me to be careful with you since you were evil and crazy, the town fool.”
Chapter Two
“I thought as much.” The evil and crazy local fool said.
“Why do they say such stuff?” The peddler asked.
“It’s a long story. But, if you still have time for explanations, I don’t mind telling you.” The wicked fool said.
“If it won’t embarrass you?” The peddler said.
“Please.” The local wicked fool replied. “How can I be ashamed of my situation, when I’m talking to a man that nearly capsized me a moment ago and was once sold for 2 shirts?”
“Blouses.”
“Blouses?”
“Blouses – not shirts.” The peddler corrected.
“Oh, right, sorry.” The wicked fool said.
“It’s all right. Please continue. I have time to listen and enough money with which to eat and bathe.” The peddler answered.
“Fine.” The wicked fool said. “It all started when I first arrived here, about 20 years ago. Substantially wealthier, I was having a few beers right here, at this same bar, under this same tree. A guy heard I was a gringo and came over to start a conversation.”
“Probably looking to get a few free beers.” The peddler added.
“I suspected so, but I spent a few minutes with him anyway.” The local wicked fool said. “A couple of girls stopped at our table. I bought another round and tira-gosto for all four of us. One of the girls had to use the rest room and was complaining that the toilet was not completely private. She was trying to get the other girl to go with her to another bar that boasted a more private toilet. Before they left, I made an observation.”
“What observation?” The peddler asked.
“I said it seemed strange to me that people feel no shame about putting food INTO their body but have such great shame about someone seeing that food come OUT of that same body a bit worse for wear.” The wicked fool said.
The peddler laughed out loud and asked. “What did they say?”
“They did not take it as a joke but thought I was serious. I truly believe that they really thought I didn’t feel taking a public shit warranted shame.” The wicked fool said.
“Why do you say that?” The peddler asked, slightly irritated and ready to defend his countrymen against a disrespectful interloper.
“Because they all asked if I felt no shame. I wasn’t yet familiar with the simplicity of local coboçlos and descendants of garimperros. So, I replied that at one time I did feel shame, and I did indeed still have a sense of shame, somewhere, but, as with those other mental capacities, will-power and patience, I forgot where exactly I stowed them. I said I never seemed to be able to find them when they were needed. I said I knew I had plenty of all three of those intellectual forces. They were being saved up someplace, I was certain, since I never used any of them.” The wicked fool said.
The peddler was really laughing hard and asked what happened next, so the wicked fool replied. “It wasn’t long, and I lost my mooching companions. I found myself drinking alone. I saw them from time to time, after that, and they always looked at me strangely but avoided all contact. Town’s people would come by, at times, and open up conversations with me. It was, probably, just to be able to say later that they agreed with the prevailing negative opinion of the gringo. They always seemed to become equally impressed with my strange intellectual manner.”
“How is that?” The peddler asked.
“Well, as I told you, I worked for Rothschild in the sixties in Viet Nam, then returned to the ZSA.”
“ZSA?”
“The Zionited States of America.”
“Oh.”
“Because of what I did in Vietnam for the ZSA, that bloody construct of Rothschild’s machine, my spirit has been hurting for fifty years.” The wicked fool said. “I escaped my slavery by fleeing here. I became a fugitivarii, taking much of my peculium with me.”
“Peculium?”
“Slave money. I pocketed some of MY money that Rothschild considered HIS money.” The wicked fool explained.
“I see.”
The wicked fool continued. “What I didn’t tell you was that between those two events, I mentioned, I was a student of biology, mathematics, chemistry and physics at Michigan State University and MIT. I received degrees in all these disciplines on Rothschild’s tab. I later invented some things worth over a billion dollars per year in the genetic engineering laboratory, I established. I built the world’s first mussel/mouse/bacteria transgenic organism. I got some public attention for that. Rothschild took a great deal of my life, and he left me with the idea that he wanted the rest of it. I left the ZSA in 1996 because I did not want to assist another Rothschild genocide by allowing that fiendish family et al. to use my life’s accomplishments to facilitate it. I did not actualize anything near to what I’d also hoped I would, however. When you make plans you paint a picture in your mind of your dream. As that dream manifests into reality, somehow, a lens is placed over the painting in your mind. Depending on the distortion of the light of actuality, your plan’s results are made manifest. Sometimes the picture proves true and sometimes a bizarre rendition bearing no resemblance to the original appears. That’s what happened to me.”
“So, you fled with the remainder of your lawful gain?” The peddler queried.
“Precisely.” The wicked fool answered. “I purchased a seaplane with a half-million dollars and came to Brazil. Somebody followed me into Roraima. In 1997, they blew my plane up on the banks of the Apiau river with most of my money inside.”
“You were not in it and hurt?” The peddler asked.
“I was about twenty feet away and ended up seriously wounded. I am today, perhaps, a zombie, doing my time in Hell with all these garimp demons. I am considerably poorer and still a fugitive.” The wicked fool said, laughing bitterly. “What is so defeating is that my passport photo was damaged. I cannot get another one without submitting myself to Rothschild’s ZSA agents. So, I cannot ever be a naturalized Brazilian. Thus, I cannot earn much money. My savings, that which I prevented Rothschild from stealing, and what was not blown up, are gone. I have survived until today, ironically, only because of a law made for rich people.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Rich outdoes citizenship in Brazil for people that own property and collect rents. Therefore, I rent rooms in a small pousada I built when I arrived here. That’s why I’m drinking today, as I told you earlier, because that tax, they want to levy on my pousada, will make my daughter and I starve.”
“I can see how all that would affect an “intellectual manner”.” The peddler said.
“Of course.” The wicked fool said. “But that is only part of the reason. That just disturbs one aspect of my scintillating personality. I was trapped here, without books or even anyone with whom I could speak in my native language. I couldn’t buy books, because the few epistles here were all in Portuguese or without value. I couldn’t buy anything on the internet without a CPF, so books via the internet were not an option. I was effectively imprisoned in a monkey cage. The garimps could no more understand my erudition than I could understand their ignorance. We look upon each other that way yet, with mutual suspicion. As you recently discovered, I am considered a wicked fool by all the local simians.”
“I understand your foolish problem but why do they think you are also wicked? The peddler asked.
“That’s even less complicated.” The wicked fool said. “What makes me appear evil to the local simians is that I am also an anarchist, an atheist, and a sculptor. None of these attributes endear me to an ignorant milieu. The simians here, like simians everywhere, are willfully ignorant. They are not sure whether they are more afraid of God or the Devil. But, they do know that I am a witch. They also are sure that my sculpture is meant to summon the Devil. They don’t think the Devil is universally friendly.”
“Why do they think you are a witch?” The peddler asked.
“My sculpture figures are always nude. Some depict very ugly non-human fiends. Many portray strange, savage or brutal behavior.” The wicked fool said.
“So, they just assume only a macumberro would create such things?” The peddler asked.
“Of course. They throw rosaries over my sculptures, sometimes wrapped in old socks.” The wicked fool said. “It’s quite funny, actually.”
“Superstitious!”
“Yes. But, even some fairly educated people, people with “university” degrees, avert their gaze when they see me on the street.” The wicked fool said.
“It’s becoming clear. I wasn’t really sure about how the rosary fit in, but when you said that sometimes they add old socks, it all makes sense. Yes. It’s quite obvious now.” The peddler mocked, and when they stopped laughing, the peddler said. “So. You cannot stay, and you cannot leave.”
“Exactly.” The wicked fool said. “I am very enamored of Amazonia but not all its simian fauna. I was hoping, when I arrived here, that I could make a great contribution to biosustainability.”
“But you could not?” The peddler asked.
“I have not, as yet. My resources are more than slightly limited. I have trouble paying a server for an hour of internet per day.” The wicked fool said.
“That seems like a luxury to me. There are so many books I’d like to read yet.” The peddler said.
“An hour is not enough.” The wicked fool said.
“No. I can imagine it isn’t.” The peddler said.
“As I wander among the vegetation of Amazonia, I marvel at the grand beauty of the trees. Such magnificent displays of pristine Nature are getting less and less visible. It is so deeply saddening to see the destruction of the natural environment nearly everywhere. Waste and death seem to be competing with willful ignorance for top billing. The environmentalists intend to do well, but their futile attempts at protecting the forest are as ineffective as if they were sleeping.” The wicked fool said. “Just this past year alone the Amazon lost one third of its territory to loggers and ranchers. The increased rainfall has damaged much of my little pousada. I lost two rooms and haven’t the money to repair them.”
“The great destroyers will not stop killing the trees until the entire paradise is desert.” The peddler said.
“Of course not.” The wicked fool said. “A few days ago, the President gave the loggers and cattle barons carte blanche permission to destroy the remaining indigenous tribes and the forest.”
“Why?”
“It’s the fault of the ranchers, the loggers, the corrupt politicians, and the poor people that want land on which to grow food to feed their children. But even more than these, it’s the hedonistic and callous indifference of the rest of the world’s simian population. We demand palm oil, paper, lumber, matches, beef, soy, corn, wheat, avocados, bananas, biological eternity, etc. faster than it can be contested and raped out of the forests’ impending last will and testament.” The wicked fool said and continued. “But even more than these is the fact that we won’t stop growing . . . . period! Everything serves the great god growth, GNP!”
“Like you, I feel strongly about the plight of the disenfranchised. That’s why I try to live simply.” The peddler said.
“And I admire you for it. But, I’m sure you’re aware. It’s a drop in the ocean. Our species mimics the domestic cat species – brutal sadistic killers, irresponsible wastrels, reproducing like Gatling guns. defecating wherever it pleases.” The wicked fool said.
“Nature gave us reason. We could have been a bit Mensch about it, using it to protect Nature. Instead, we choose to use that unique capacity to destroy our Creator.” The peddler said.
“We turn everything into death and symbolic death, caedere, and call it wealth. I find it almost unbearable.” The wicked fool said.
“Our world is changing right before our eyes.” The peddler said.
“Yes, it is. I grew up in a world that was fundamentally different from that one in which my child grows.” The wicked fool said. “Five billion more people, more than 3 times as many as when I was small. Because they’re scared, needing money, people listen to economists. Economists are always touting growth and better distribution as the savior. They are incredibly myopic, thinking they can look at a horsehair and, from that, expound upon what a horse is. The simple truth is that we cannot grow people and use planetary resources, ad infinitum.”
“Fortunately, life is short.” The peddler said.
“But, it is still way too long.” The wicked fool said.
“Not if you are contributing to the well-being of the planet.” The peddler riposted.
“I don’t know. Perhaps.” The wicked fool said. “The positive contribution made by people is dwarfed by what they do in the negative. Seven billion people consuming and defecating. Recycling is bullshit. How much longer can we continue to use pesticides, before we poison ourselves out of existence along with half the planet’s Life? Organic agriculture is a farce. How will we stop using pesticides and still grow enough food to feed the world? We are reaching the breaking point on a number of levels. Shortages of water, energy, food, oxygen, other “also-ran” species, and a clean environment to name a few. Shortages will create great stress on all human institutions. We can’t keep “growing”. Growth in the sense of GNP and the usual biological rule is no longer a positive entity. There is a biological rule for survival. It goes like this. Grow or die, protect yourself or die. Keep the three in balance or die. If we stop moving in a positive direction, we die, but there are too many limits facing us. We need to rethink our human relationship with the environment. Fossil fuels and scientific advances have long linked us to the insane idea that we could expect unlimited growth. Those are a total bust now. Where will we put all our waste? Nuclear power, and everything involved with it, is threatening to end all Life. Protection is in order but for how long and how much? Where will we find food to feed everyone?”
“I don’t know.”
The two men stayed silent for a few seconds. Both were staring at the barmaid’s cleavage, as she wiped the beer’s condensation fluid off the plastic table. When she left, taking her cleavage with her, the two returned to commiserating on the environmental situation.

Chapter Three
The wicked fool said. “The kudos I receive from humans for my work are directly proportional now to my self-doubt. The more respect and admiration I receive the less conviction I hold in my beliefs. I am finding it ever more difficult to exist in a world that forces me to live a lie. I’ve given all I can give, I fear. The other day, I saw a small suffering dog, trying to defecate in the gutter. Feces, covered in blood, was falling from its anus. The creature was filled with vermin, obviously starving, supporting a broken shoulder, ecto-pest infested. Someone, for no apparent reason, walked by and went out of their way to kick it. The poor thing’s unrelenting cries of pain almost made me break down in tears. I did nothing! I have loved many others, but the most reciprocated love, I ever felt I have received, has come from animals, and yet I can betray them. You ever want to know about unrequited love, look my way. People deify their kindnesses and altruism toward other humans, but it is all purchased and negated through the suffering, horror and death that they deliver to non-human life. I am so ashamed of being a human being. Co-habiting with the human race has been almost more than I can stomach.”
“Our owners too seem to be as hedonistically callous and ignorant as are we. Shakespeare said it very well in King Lear.” The peddler said, reaching into his pack and drawing out a book. “I was reading this just this morning coming here on the bus. “It’s from Act 4, scene 1, page 2. The Duke of Gloucester says, “As flies to wanton boys, so are we to the gods, they kill us for their sport.”.”
“Makes you think, doesn’t it?” The wicked fool said.
“It sure did exactly that to me.” The peddler said.
“I’m inclined to agree with Shakespeare.” The wicked fool said. “The bastards are laughing at us. The gods have placed me in a world here that is so sad. I can’t get books or depend on a functioning internet. Everyone around me is intellectually dead. None of the locals have ever read a book that isn’t a comic book. They do not express to me their knowledge of even the rudiments of literature, mathematics, physics, history, biology, philosophy, geography, etc. When I approach even the least esoteric of subjects, they look at me as if I were demented. They could teach me much esoterica regarding the jungle but prefer to just slash/ burn it. The language errors I make and my accent cause me to seem childlike to them and not worthy of attention. My daughter says it’s normal here for no one to listen to anyone else. How can a person of integrity find value in such beings or in such an existence? When I try to feel personal meaning in small ways: recycling, art, gardening or growing mushrooms, they deride or humiliate me for being strange. There is something to be said for fantasizing genocide, of course, but either suffering on or dealing with the discomfort of suicide, appears to be my only options. Is there a prize involved, do you suppose, if one makes it all the way to the end of one’s life without availing oneself of the suicide option?”
“I have no idea. Why don’t you leave the Country?” The peddler asked.
“Without funds, too old to find meaningful employment, I could not support my daughter elsewhere. Without her and no valid passport, I would be deported wherever I went. Rothschild would imprison or kill me as soon as word of my leaving Brazil got out.” The wicked fool answered.
“Moving elsewhere in Brazil, incognito?” The peddler asked.
“Another form of suicide, just drawn out and more painful. At this point in my life it would appear to be more elegant to edit than to supplement. Yet, staying here, adapting, is de facto symptomatic of dementia. Is that what’s happening to me? All my current efforts, involving conception, perception, and conduct result in inexplicable feats of mediocrity or unintended pain. It is such an effort to go on. Why try? My vision, hearing, and memory are going fast. I can’t write well anymore or do much quality-art. So far, it seems old age is not just progressive degradation. Life for me involves swathes of humiliation with nothing positive ahead for which to aspire or endure. I wanted to die in combat, killing a predator and letting the state take me down. But now, I do not want to give the gods the satisfaction of another gory spectacle. “The gods, they kill us for their sport.”. The Ben Chi Vis wouldn’t have me around to appreciate their music anymore.”
“Sounds pretty bleak. Is there no hope?” The peddler asked.
“Depends on whether you want to be truthful or lie to yourself every minute of the day.” The wicked fool answered, wanting to discuss with the peddler environmental issues. “Sorry for telling you my troubles. Must be a whiff of self-pity unleashed by the booze. Let me focus on the state of the human race.”
“Very well.” The peddler said.
“There are only two open avenues to save the Amazon, the human race, and the rest of the living planet. We either: 1. Build the Great Pontibus Bridges, or 2. Reduce simian population.”
“Only those two ways?” The peddler asked.
“Other remedies are only idle talk or political chicanery.” The wicked fool said. “If we do not build the Great Bridges, culling simian population is the only way to cut growth without cutting our throat.”
“We either cut our own wrists or we cut our own throats.” The peddler said.
“Without the Pontibus, yes, more or less.” The wicked fool agreed.
“How are we cutting our own throats if we stop using fossil fuels?” The peddler asked.
“We cannot stop, voluntarily. Like “organic” agriculture, biosustainable energy is pitifully small and way too expensive without the Pontibus.” The wicked fool said. “But not to worry. We will soon stop using fossil fuel, because as rates of use increase, inexorably, we have only got a decade or two left us. All global warming will stop within 50 years, as all the feedback warming loops dry up, breathable oxygen disappears, and the human race goes extinct.”
The peddler asked about the Great Pontibus Bridges. The wicked fool explained what the Great Bridges would be like and how they would work. He wrote down the titles for the peddler of the books written about them – The Pontibus Journal (Variola’s Revenge and Luz-Bethel) on the Hotel Aloirav website. When he finished, the peddler asked.
“How can we get these Great Bridges?”
“It will require a large investment in transgenic research. I don’t know how much. It’s been over 30 years since I worked in that field. The resources necessary and the time required to achieve the required calein building material will depend on the people doing the genetic engineering.” The wicked fool said.
“Why do you disparage recycling?” The peddler queried.
“Too little, too late.” The wicked fool said. “Carbon taxes and recycling are as much red herrings as a presidential election is – meaningless distractions for the feeble-minded. These tools of the obscenely opulent are designed to take attention off the rapacious porcine community and the rest of the predators, including over-produced simians.”
“Why do you say that?” The peddler asked. “How else will people stop burning fossil fuels if they’re not forced to economize?”
“The world’s owners, ZWO tyrants, are psychotic liars.” The wicked fool said. “But they also cannot hide from us when they speak the truth.”
“ZWO?”
“Zionist World Order.” The wicked fool answered.
“What is that?” The peddler asked.
“It’s the excuse that the rapacious porcine community, the super-predators, give for instituting total tyranny over us. They maintain that the ZWO is the only way to achieve universal peace.”
“That sounds like an admirable idea.” The peddler said.
“Such a stand is disingenuous for at least two reasons.” The wicked fool replied. “The bankers do not want universal peace as it would mean less arms’ spending, and thus less gold for them. Human welfare is not, nor has it ever been, the bankers’ dream. There has to be an ulterior motive. The second reason that blows the ZWO advocates out the posterior sphincter is that freedom causes conflict by Nature. Freedom and peace are mutually exclusive almost by definition. Therefore, if we want peace, above all else, we must also have a totalitarian dystopia, i.e. ZWO.”
“I see.”
The wicked fool continued. “These tyrants are taught to murder the great unwashed with abandon. Their parents and ancestors have been teaching them to lie and cheat us incessantly. For millennia, they have grown accustomed to such behavior to keep us subjugated. Carbon taxes are just another excuse to increase the tribute-rape. Rothschild, the Rockefeller estate, and the queens, Beatrice & Elizabeth, own virtually all the world’s coal & oil. To stop global warming and ocean acidification, without the Pontibus, we have to stop burning oil and coal. Do you really believe they would dump it all to save the planet?”
“No.”
“Neither do I.” The wicked fool said. “Do you think the world could deal with not having oil and coal?”
“No energy?” The peddler said. “Surely not.”
“So, what will these super-predators do if they can’t sell it?” The wicked fool asked. “Leave it in the ground?”
“I suppose they’d have to.” The peddler said.
“I don’t think so.” The wicked fool said. “Simians need fossil fuel and will demand it. The renewables produce very little.” The super-predators fear the unchained simians. Even if all our energy problems are overcome, the simians will not stop consuming. They will not limit their population.”
“When you say super-predators, you are referring to the super-rich, are you not?” The peddler asked.
“Yes, I am.” The wicked fool said. “The caedere rich are predacious, traitors to humanity. They construct false appearances to dissuade the great unwashed from taking up arms. These super-predators know that they are illegitimate and at risk, but they always win. It’s almost uncanny.”
“It’s a paradox.” The peddler said.
“Yes. Our society boasts it is pluralistic.” The wicked fool said.
“It isn’t?”
“I suppose so, at times, but its economic and political aspects are not.” The wicked fool said. “They never have been.”
“A conspiracy?” The peddler asked.
“Sort of.” The wicked fool said. “The world is becoming increasingly more accepting of intelligence as a natural selection quality, even though it is a quality usually selected against over time by Nature. In fact, it can almost be considered a lethal mutation. Qualities subsumed under the intelligence rubric contain naturally selected features of intelligence, including the adept use of camouflage. Simian camouflage mostly foregoes mimicries of color and shape and instead focuses on the use of circumlocution, fraud, betrayal, etc. to survive, prey upon, or gain ascendency over all species, including Homo sapiens sapiens. Far Eastern Asiatics and most whites have the largest genetic standing in the intelligence regard. Indigenous African black Africans have the least. That means, (to people not politically-correct), that an octoroon tends to have more intelligence than does a quadroon, and a quadroon more than a mulatto. A miscegenated American black would have more intelligence than his indigenous African, black African, half-brother. Scientific data continues to affirm and reaffirm this fact overwhelmingly. As the intelligence allotment disparity carries over into the camouflage sector, many problems and opportunities develop. Mobility of ascent academically, socially, politically, and economically tends to support the uncomfortable fact that black lives do NOT matter to the rest of the world. Super-predators believe that an adroit use of simian camouflage automatically indicates superior intelligence, and that entitles the super-parasite to rule and effect simian contingencies. The super-predators feel that idea entitles them to use camouflage indiscriminately to step on EVERYONE that does not share their match in the intelligence pie. That trend is not positive for blacks. Eternal whining about their super stupidity handicap will become increasingly less effective in forcing whites to render them subsidies. Black people had better wake up to the fact that, over time, if they do not invest their naturally-selected, prolific-progeny-producing DNA in lighter-skinned simians, the super-predators will “disappear” them. Someday, white people may awaken to the idea that “white race guilt” is a super-predator construct of subjugation engineering. White resources may stop moving into super-predator pockets and black mouths. White resources may suddenly turn into arms to destroy predator and black alike. If they do not, a virtual sea of Chinese DNA will surely submerge the white race, and the super-predators will make the white race and Asiatics the world’s new African slaves.”
“Sounds like a conspiracy to me.” The peddler said.
“Super-predators are a closely-connected community.” The wicked fool said. “They are not just the owners and controllers of nearly all society’s lives, assets, infrastructure, information and products, but they are redundantly incestuous and enjoy common enemies like environmentalists, very naïve new pols, laborers, etc. Any vote-whore that goes contrary to the super-predators will be destroyed or figuratively castrated within a year.”
“Vote-whore?” The peddler asked.
“Pol.” The wicked fool answered. “The super-predators know their enemies long before the hoi polloi does. These super-predators are really to be pitied, except for the fact that they believe their money makes them leaders, and they think they know what is best for all. That crazy idea also makes them super-super-predators.”
“What are those false appearances of which you speak?” The peddler asked.
“Elections! Enthralled media!” The wicked fool said. “They grab two of their best Machiavellian whores and set them before the unwashed as attractive Presidential candidates. The voting dupes believe they have some choice, colluding in their OWN enslavement.”
“I do not vote.” The peddler said. “You need not be concerned about my feelings in that regard. Brazil is going to punish me for that peccadillo, when I get older.”
“Yes. You will be almost in my situation” The wicked fool said.
“One of Brazil’s second-class citizens?” The peddler asked.
“Yes. But, even if your old-age situation arrives as you imagine, un-pensionable, at least you won’t be living at someone else’s expense, like the rest of the pensioners.” The wicked fool said.
“I could handle a pension. I don’t relish starving or sleeping out in the rain on the ground. You’re right. I’ll probably be in a somewhat similar situation as you, perhaps even worse.” The peddler said.
“Look on the bright side. At least, if we continue abusing the planet the way we do, we’ll all rot in the same coffin.” The wicked fool said.
“You know, you’re not a very pleasant drinking companion?” The peddler quipped.
“Thanks. Can’t imagine why you’d say that, but I can point to a few people right now who will probably agree with you.” The wicked fool said.
“I’m sure you can. I would appreciate it if you did not do so.” The peddler said.
The two were interrupted just then by someone inquiring about the peddler’s wares. The peddler gave a quick spiel and sold a ring of garlic. As the buyer was leaving, it caught sight of the wicked fool’s art piece on the stool. The would-be art-buyer asked. “How much?”
“500 Reals.” The wicked fool said.
“Isn’t that rather steep?” The would-be art-buyer asked.
The wicked fool reacted as if he had suddenly stepped on a pile of dog shit. His discomfiture was blatantly obvious. He wanted the person to leave him alone, yet was in a quandary as to how he could get the peddler’s customer out of his sight. He kept his cool, however, as the customer stared at him in anticipation of a response.

Chapter Four
“Yes, it is.” The wicked fool answered, quietly, and the would-be art-buyer went away, shaking its head.
“That does seem high. You didn’t even appear like you wanted to sell it.” The peddler said.
“After the monkey said it was high priced, I didn’t care if I sold it or not.” The wicked fool said.
“Why not?” The peddler asked.
“Well, it’s like this.” The wicked fool explained. “A brick mason here makes 100 Reals/day. I worked two weeks creating that piece out of discarded plastic bags that I melted and molded by hand. I think my time, skill, damage to my health from the fumes, and biological & esthetic knowledge makes my work worth as much as a brick mason’s.”
“That’s a reasonable assumption.” The peddler said.
“Do the math and the piece is worth 1400 Reals. If I can’t get 500 Reals, 35 Reals/day, I’d rather starve. I can’t accept that my work is worth even less than a third of that of a common laborer.” The wicked fool said. “I’m not selling garlic.”
The peddler said. “When you put it that way, I think I understand.”
“Hope so. I don’t know why I feel the way I do.” The wicked fool said. “What the hell?! It’s small shit. I’ll probably never sell any of it. My kid will end up tossing it out someday along with the other 40 pieces I’ve finished.”
“You really think so?” The peddler asked.
“Hope not.” The wicked fool said. “Where were we in saving the planet?”
“Rotting in the same coffin.” The peddler said.
“Oh, yes. I remember. I was being a splendid conversationalist and you were trying to flatter me.” The wicked fool said.
“Something like that.” The peddler lied.
“The rape of Nature is not just the fault of super-predator’s engines, and dupes that vote. Granted, the arms industry and the community to which it belongs do not even know the sadness and pain that they cause with their insane gold-digging. But, EVERYONE else too is strangling out the planet’s life, every single one of us. The wicked fool said.
“It seems like it. Where the human race stands, in its evolution, is not a good place.” The peddler said.
“But, it’s an exciting time to be alive.” The wicked fool said. “Our enslaved species dangles by a thread before the precipice of extinction. We are the generation that must learn to smelt our values in the fires of biosustainability, or our children will die out, like Nature’s other failures. We have not learned that yet.”
The peddler understood the metaphor, but he replied as if he were asking fate for the answer to his question.
“Why not?”
The wicked fool took the question, as if directed towards him, personally, and replied. “Human society selects for cowards. We haven’t the courage to disallow our population getting progressively more vulnerable, forswearing our continued evolution.”
“How much longer can that go on?” The peddler asked. “Doesn’t stupidity have a limit?”
The wicked fool answered. “It doesn’t appear that ignorance has any limit. The top vote-whores around the world are so dense it almost makes a person, listening to them, want to scream. The ignorance may be due to the super-predators spreading of lies & propaganda or their withholding of quality education. The stupidity may be due to water & air pollution and decreasing breathable ocean-produced oxygen. We have no idea how much our specie’s collective intelligence and reasoning capacity has already diminished due to circumstances such as pesticides, thinner breathable air, fluoride, scarcity of clean food and water. We know that billions of IQ points around the world are depressed just from the use of organophosphate pesticides alone. Brazil poisons its citizens with pesticides twenty times faster than other countries do.”
“Our decreasing fertility is easily measurable, as are the statistics of our mortality, but our collective mental faculties are not.” The peddler added.
“That’s true.” The wicked fool agreed. “The World Health Organization says that clinical depression is the leading world disability today, and it is increasing. That illness could cause people to neglect their health, increasing simian vulnerability to secondary killers like heart disease, cancer and diabetes. Why has this sadness become so prevalent? One of the leading causes of this despair, world-wide, is lack of sunlight-produced vitamin D. The medical profession is unrelenting in its avaricious pro-sunscreen and con-sunlight propaganda. Radiation from nuclear bomb testing and nuclear power “accidents”, such as Fukushima and Chernobyl, may be partially the cause of this world-wide depression. It may result in eventual madness, globally. What little we know of human consciousness is affected greatly by vagaries of brain salt solutions. These solutions are in juxtaposition to normal chemical fluctuations in the body and iron compounds like hemoglobin. Tightly packed blood vessel endothelial cells separate them. Iron is also heavily affected by magnetism and magnetic fields. The plethora of iron compounds, held in place by endothelial cells, necessary for brain function, can be roughly compared to a lattice. Quantum mechanical measurement of brain neuron harmonics and magnetism might shed light on whether Wigner energy effects act in synergy with the planet’s oxygen depletion, pesticides, ozone depletion, trans fats, media transmission frequencies, and medical profession lies to affect, deleteriously, brain chemistry and homeostasis. Additional negative effects on the human brain may come from the increasingly anaerobic state of the oceans due to pollution-caused marine animal die-offs and their putrefaction.”
“In short, what you are saying is that the super-predators are poisoning and slowly suffocating us.” The peddler summarized.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “But, the real problem is our out-of-control population.”
“Are the super-predators that much more intelligent than we are?” The peddler asked.
“No. Most of the extreme caedere rich are quasi-imbeciles, but because caedere wealth is the de facto source of virtually all simian power, they are the ones controlling the contingencies whereby we live. We are nothing more than disposable pawns to the super-predators. The super-predators have brilliant minions, also worshippers of caedere wealth, working to glorify and protect them. Except with caedere risk, these brilliant flunkies vacillate between apathy and pusillanimity. As such, they equal their caedere rich owners. Their position enables them to be similarly as hedonistic as callous.”
“We need to start treating THESE brutes as disposable.” The peddler said. “Reforming the causes of injustice never seems to work.”
“Reform does not work, because the ruling class, the super-predators, use reform like handouts to beggars. Once we spend the wooden nickel bribes, they give us, they resume the oppression all over again, if they ever even reduced it.”
What is caedere? You use that word frequently, and I do not remember your definition. Would you repeat it?” The peddler asked.
“Sure.” The wicked fool said. “Caedere is a Latin verb meaning to knock down, beat, butcher, kill, or make dead. I use the word in a greater framework to explain our collective sense of wealth. As a species, everything we value today seems to be dead or a symbol of death. If something lives, it is generally believed that it must be killed to create assets for ourselves out of it. That, and our lack of population control, is why we are destroying the living planet.”
“I see.” The peddler said.
The wicked fool said. “The sycophants of the caedere super-predators and the drive to acquire extreme caedere wealth both suggest to the super-predator fraternity that the squealers do two things: 1. Use whatever means at their disposal to force all of Mankind into slavery via a totalitarian New World Order. 2. Reduce population numbers to about 400 million.”
“Fortunately for us, as yet, I guess, most of the lackeys are spineless geniuses, working on an overdue schedule.” The peddler said.
“You may be right.” The wicked fool said.
“And Rothschild greed is still greater than Rothschild will-to-power.” The peddler added.
“That I’m not so sure.” The wicked fool said. “But, the super-predators are moving much faster than you think. The super-predator fraternity want us to be lured into a false belief that they are biding their time. Actually, they are moving very quickly, setting the world in order for the time when they will strike. And also, they are greedily hoping to extract from us, the last bit of caedere wealth possible, before the time arrives when there is no alternative but to destroy the slaves utterly.”
“You really think it will come to that?” The peddler asked.
“Of course.” The wicked fool said. “The indications of it are already visible, and what alternative do they have? From where our culture now stands, discretionary judgement has been lost. We are bred like rats and have no alternative but to continue raping, pillaging, and murdering our environment to support our bloated rodent-like population.”
“It’s so enervating.” The peddler said.
“I find it depressing.” The wicked fool said. “As more and more simians become cyborgs or figurative cyborgs, more species die off. More of our planet becomes desert. Technology keeps putting off the day of reckoning. The point will come when there is nowhere else to go, and technology will help only the most privileged.”
“You said there are indications already visible?” The peddler asked.
“Yes.” The wicked fool answered. “The means that the caedere rich have experimented with, so far, to reduce human population have not been either effective or selective. War, Ebola, vaccines, Fukushima, Chernobyl, atomic bomb testing, designed pollution, etc. are very limited in scope. Unfortunately, they have not targeted death-worshippers, sexual deviants, drug addicts, biological misfits, or human predators. They have not mandated the killing of genetic freaks, not even those resulting from nuclear waste and radiation coming out of nuclear power plant meltdowns. Maintaining control and our enslavement is of paramount importance to them. They use politically-correct propaganda, lies, assassinations, false-accusations, false-flag incidences, “terrorism” funding, phony demonstrations, fines, sanctions, shills, embargos, coup d’états and more. They promote groups antithetical to the underclasses & disenfranchised, infiltrating hoi polloi groups. They bribe, replace, or kill heroes of the great unwashed, using clandestine concentration camps, race-baiting, domestic arms depots, no-fly lists, etc. that give clear indications of their intent.”
“They dare not target specific groups, as yet, because it would mean devastating some of their own group as well.” The peddler reasoned.
“For sure.” The wicked fool agreed. “So, the condemned, unfortunately, have included, and will include, young healthy missioned humans and familiar species.”
“You mention death-worshippers? Do you mean voodoo and such nonsense?” The peddler asked.
“Well yes, voodoo is just one of many, among all the other “other-world” religions, that believe in an after-life.” The wicked fool said. “But the preoccupation with money is also a form of death-worship, isn’t it?”
“The way you described caedere wealth, yes.” The peddler agreed.
“Death is the word we simians use to describe separation from Earth.” The wicked fool said. “Caedere is another way of saying the same thing. The more we place our energy on acquiring caedere goods and symbols the more we separate ourselves from the planet and Life. The more we detach, the closer we come to total death. We channel and control how the super-predators collect their caedere gain. The random means that our squealing friends have chosen to diminish our species depend on our preoccupation with those goods and symbols. Their means have not yet been as ruthless or effective as a thermonuclear war or a hemorrhagic simian virus deployment. The deficiencies of a super-contagious Ebola have not yet been overcome.” The wicked fool said. “But, the means for our extermination will appear, if we do not take action.”
“Maybe Fukushima will do it.” The peddler said.
“Or, maybe we can assume that the super-predators’ underlings are focusing their hopes on capitalizing on a lingering depression in our species’ viability.” The wicked fool said. “I don’t think they will risk global famine. It’s too dangerous for them. So, it won’t be long before they cull us with something we can’t fight.”
“You mentioned “random means”?” The peddler asked.
“Yes. Their poisons, wars, nuclides and ruses are all bought with the caedere wealth we provide them. They are reducing us to a typical endangered species, even though our numbers do not so indicate. We have not yet equated our morbidity to moribundity.” The wicked fool said.
“Why not, and how will it happen?” The peddler queried.
“Over and above the poisons the super-predators are putting into our bodies, aquifers, air and food, seven billion people produce a great deal of waste on their own. That waste is further polluting our food, water and air. It is warming the planet, acidifying our oceans, and poisoning our aquifers. As biological organisms, we must keep growing or we die, and our resources for growth are coming to an end. The majority of our breathable oxygen comes from ocean algae. Algae and other sea life, we depend on, are being killed off by radiation, pollution, and acidic water. The entire planet’s Life is interconnected. It is not just a case of “us against ‘dem’ guys”. Our bodies too are not just us. “WE” are only 1 percent of our bodies. 99 trillion cells are other than us, but they maintain us. As we kill off our planetary co-life, we are killing ourselves too. Most simians do not understand how much all Life is interconnected, and the super-predators seem to be just tickled pink about that ignorance. People are undereducated in biology. They compartmentalize themselves as special aspects of “Creation”, fighting science as if it were an enemy. We cannot live long without oxygen. We cannot live long without bees. We cannot live long with toxic microbes in our gut, on our skin, in our cells. We cannot support billions of subhumans that do nothing but consume and return nothing to the planet but death. When will the bill fall due? I don’t know, but it will be soon. The super-predators know all this. They are not asleep. Their totalitarian Zionist World Order (ZWO) will one day introduce our species’ desolation to the mortality category.” The wicked fool said. “If they do not, we ourselves will do it. Which comes first is anyone’s guess.”
“I take it; you don’t like the Jews?” The peddler asked.

Chapter Five
“You mean because of the way I do not hide in fear and shame but rather speak the truth about the criminal Zionists and the perverted Talmudists?” The wicked fool asked.
“Yes.” The peddler answered. “Zionists and Talmudists are Jews, aren’t they?”
“When it serves their purposes, Zionists say they are Jews and Jews say they are Zionists.” The wicked fool said. “If you’re trying to use a valid anti-Semitic epithet against me, you’ve got a problem. It will be very tough to go down the anti-Semitic path with me. In the first place, pure genetic Jews do not exist. “Jewism” is a smorgasbord of caedere capital, genes, culture, consciousness, and religion. Semitism is a term for a common language, not a race. So, how do you effectively hate someone who may not even exist? My mother was genetically a half-Jew, from the Dan tribe, post-Huguenot France, and my great grandmother was a pied noir Arab. I would be disavowing my very own self if I were to take an anti-Semitic stand on genetic grounds. In order to be a decent anti-Semite today, you have a definition problem. A Semite today is generally thought of as an Arab or a mongrel Talmudist. Other than Zionists, Talmudists or Islamists anyone that is not an anti-Zionist or anti-Talmudist or anti-Islamist, respectively, is extremely ignorant or a masochist. The Talmud mandates its enthralled to hate, sicken, cheat, enslave, and kill all non-Talmudists they meet. Talmudists take advice from whackos, called Rabbis, many of which torture animals and suck on little boy’s penises until the tip falls off. Talmudists’ dementia is the equal of Islamists, just quieter and more camouflaged. Zionists, Talmudic Jews and Islamists are the real anti-Semites in this world. These mongrel Semites and their U.S whores have made a slaughterhouse of the Mideast. For centuries, Zionists have been killing the Semitic people of the world, and the Talmudic Jews have shown for centuries that they are a destructive and suicidal culture. Islamists want to kill everyone they meet that isn’t an Islamist and even most people that are Islamist. To pass the time, while feeling more peaceful, they enjoy mutilating little girls’ genitals. The “Jews”, Khazarian Gentile-Jews and the Muslims have this demented fascination with genital mutilation. It’s like these sick savages have left the caves but the caves haven’t left them. Every day, Rothschild’s Israel is slowly, but successfully, using other countries as duped mercenaries to conquer and destroy the world – Semites, pseudo-Semites as well as Gentiles. With all the stray uranium, the Zionists throw around and peddle, young men in Israel are finding their sperm counts dropping faster than the Palestinian Semites that they love to burn. What we speak about, when we use the word “Jew”, is not a polemic remark against the genetics of Semitic peoples but a description of the atrocious suicidal death-worshipping “Hebrew” religion and the usurping brutal Luciferian Khazar Zionism of Rothschild, et al. Religious Jews and Muslims belong in the same category as do the death-worshipping Luciferian and Christian predators. Most Jews, like most Christians, are not evil people. They are weak, simple-minded dupes. The super-predatory religious swindlers and Zionists control them. Death-worshipping envy of caedere predators controls and enslaves people who cannot or will not think for themselves. Most Jews have never read the Talmud, like most Christians have never read the Bible. If they had, and they were not mentally deficient or completely unaware of critical thinking, they would see the depravity dwelling there. Most have read only portions of these obscene tomes and readily accept the bogus interpretation placed on them by the leaders of the religious swindle.”
“Suicidal culture?” The peddler queried.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “The Talmud is a very racist book, purporting to favor ersatz Jews, and so, it is extremely anti-Gentile, (whatever that is). If there are no real Jews, only imposters, how can there be any Gentiles? The Talmudic dupes really can’t believe that the goys will discover what kind of offal the children of the Talmudic religious learn. Every state, in which the Jews attempt to reside, ultimately holds a pogrom or throws them out. The Talmud’ers never learn. They are as bad as evangelicals. Evangelicals are nauseating, but Talmud’ers, with their “Jews are special to God” nonsense and “enslave, make sick, and kill Gentiles” dictates, are equally nauseating, plus offensively threatening. Jews are not stupid. Most are more intelligent than most goys, but the religion is masochistic, and those beguiled into it want to feel persecuted and die for that horrible Talmud and its mandated insularity.”
“I always thought that they were mistreated because they wear those silly little hats and bob their heads up and down like lizards & ducks do.” The peddler said.
“Well.” The wicked fool said. “Those beanies make them appear insular and obviously religious suckers or swindlers. It doesn’t help them integrate any, however it may play out. Who knows what the Kabbala-Talmud can make them do to get so hated? The horrendous way they treat their farm animals is cruel and brutal. They may only be trying to emulate the Devil “Moloch” that they worship. But, it’s enough to make the heart of any sentient non-Talmud’er scream in sympathetic agony with the victims. I’m sure many people, if they knew, would want to take vicarious umbrage for the innocents the Talmud’ers brutalize.”
Getting up to go to the rest room, the wicked fool left the peddler’s vicinity. As he passed the customer that enjoyed bad-mouthing him to the peddler, the wicked fool saw the customer smile at him. Both men waved to each other, as if they were the best of friends. As he turned his head toward the rest room, out of the corner of his eye, the wicked fool saw the gossipy customer wave to the peddler.
When the wicked fool returned to the table, shared with the peddler, the peddler said. “I think we have a meeting of the minds on most of our discussion. It’s an untenable situation, we face, existing in the world today. I don’t have any possible solutions or alternatives to postulate. Could you explain more about why you think those Great Bridges will help?”
“Yes, but unfortunately, we are out of beer.” The wicked fool said.
“That’s true. As I told you earlier, I cannot share in footing the bar bill.” The peddler responded, feeling uneasy.
“I remember saying that we could reach an agreement, with your garlic, to share the expense. Are you reneging on that now, or did we not have a meeting of the minds?” The wicked fool said.
“We had a meeting of the minds, and I am not reneging. Here is a ring to pay for the second round and here is another to pay for the fourth.” The peddler offered.
“Done!” The wicked fool said, waving the barmaid over to order some more tira-gosto and another beer. He put the two garlic rings around his art piece and said. “Now my art work is irresistible. I’m sure to sell it before we leave.”
“I hope so.” The peddler said.
While they waited for their order to arrive, the wicked fool said. “If we do not soon commence building the Great Intercontinental Pontibus Bridges we will, by default, through our population increase and planetary ecological devastation, inflate a simian bubble.”
“And it will burst, I assume?”
“Yes.” The wicked fool agreed. “It will burst and result in environmental and human disaster by accident or design.”
“The population is a problem to be sure. We are currently being stamped out of the ether like brake linings, hardwired to suffer.” The peddler said.
“The gods are fiends.” The wicked fool said.
“If their inexorable cruelty is deliberate, it’s unforgiveable. They should be destroyed.” The peddler said.
The wicked fool said. “Finding the right murder weapon is the problem.”
“Isn’t it though?” The peddler agreed, laughing.
The wicked fool suddenly touched the peddler’s arm and said. “Speaking of mindless cruelty, you’re about to discover one of the reasons why I acquired the reputation of an evil fool.”
“I am?”
“Yes. Please wait.” The wicked fool said and got up from his seat. “I’ll be back.”
He walked over to the street, and stopped. There, he confronted a woman in the street that was kicking and beating one of the large softball-sized toads that are so prevalent in frontier Amazonian towns. When it was more convenient than kicking, the woman would strike the creature with her broom. The creature, apparently, unaware of why it was suffering so, kept hopping haphazardly in an effort to escape the indefensible situation.
“Why are you tormenting that creature?” The wicked fool asked. “It’s not hurting you!”
The rather large woman said nothing in return but continued to strike the wretched toad. The wicked fool walked over to the bloody toad and bent over to give it assistance. The woman was not to be hindered in her righteous task, however. She sustained the relentless assault, geared toward ending the creature’s life, with her loyal broom. The wicked fool grabbed the woman’s trusty tool with his left hand and scooped up the swollen amphibian simultaneously. The toad was thus promptly rescued from simian ignorance. Passers-by gasped in horror at the wicked fool’s obvious insanity, as he released the woman’s toad-weapon.
The prevailing opinion in Roraima is that such imprudent behavior will certainly gain for one terrible life-threatening warts. Undaunted, the wicked fool took the toad home to attend to its wounds and release it into his garden. As the wicked fool left the vicinity of the bar, the customer that spoke to the peddler earlier noticed the re-exposed opportunity to gossip at the plastic table.
He went over to the peddler’s now under-populated milieu and said. “See? What did I tell you? He’s crazy, picking up a dirty poisonous thing like that and taking it to his home!”
The peddler made no reply, and the customer said. “That’s just one of the things he releases from our vigilance. People say he liberates tarantulas and snakes, even those two-headed white snakes. What do you suppose he does with those horrible creatures when he gets them to his home?”
“Well.” The peddler replied. “I don’t know.”
“I do.” Gossipy said. “He makes potions and spells to change people into animals or make them sick!”
“How do you know that?” The peddler asked.
“Everyone knows it.” Gossipy said. “Just ask anyone. I sure would never sleep in his pousada! That toad was probably someone that he cursed in the past. He carves dolls too. They say he uses them to do his macumbah and hurt people.”
“Are you sure that they are voodoo dolls?”
“Oh, yes.” Gossipy said. “We know that for sure.”
“How do you know that for sure?” The peddler asked.
“We were fortunate to discover that throwing rosaries over them makes them powerless to harm us.” Gossipy said by way of incontrovertible proof.
“Oh. I see.” The peddler answered, squelching a smile.
The gossiping customer didn’t notice the peddler’s quasi-hidden doubts and continued. “He’s a real sorcerer! He even goes into the jungle and collects mushrooms!”
“What does that mean?” The peddler asked politely.
“Mushrooms are poisonous.” Gossipy said. “Everyone knows that.”
“Not all mushrooms are poisonous.” The peddler said. “Maybe he knows the good ones.”
“Well. I don’t know how to tell the poisonous ones from the others.” Gossipy said. “My friends and neighbors don’t know either. If he knows, it’s because he’s a witch! The Devil teaches him things decent people don’t even want to know!”
“Do you really think so?” The peddler asked.
“Of course.” Gossipy said. “Once a young girl, near here, got pregnant, and she went to Boa Vista for an abortion. When she returned, her family wouldn’t forgive her. They were Catholic, and the padre said abortion was wrong. Her family shut the door on her. Nobody would take her in, except that gringo. The wicked fool let her stay in his pousada!”
“Do you think he charged her rent for the room?” The peddler asked with his tongue in cheek.
“Nobody knows if he did.” Gossipy said. “Probably not. He didn’t even care that the girl murdered her own baby. My friend once asked him why he let her stay in his pousada.”
“What was his reply?” The peddler asked.
“He said the aborted baby had been a freak and should never have been born.” Gossipy replied.
“Maybe she was very young and couldn’t have cared for a child with a big birth defect.” The peddler said.
“How did he know it was a monster, if it wasn’t he that made the child a monster with his terrible spells?” Gossipy countered.
“Maybe the girl told him?” The peddler suggested.
“That’s silly. How could she know?” Gossipy replied.
“I guess they might have had access to an ultrasound?” The peddler said.
“What is that?” Gossipy asked.
“It’s a . . ma . ” The peddler started to reply, but the gossiping customer jumped up suddenly.
The peddler looked in the direction that the gossiping customer was looking. The wicked fool was returning from his toad-saving mission. The customer took his leave of the peddler, scampering back to his long-suffering friend at the other table. The gossiping customer was, no doubt, quite satisfied with himself and his obvious courage for having warned the peddler of the man’s impending doom, generously festooned with lurid details of possible fates. Nodding to the loquacious customer, the wicked fool sat back down in his former chair.
As he did so, the wicked fool asked the peddler. “Are you very much wiser now?”
“Oh, yes. I am much more aware, having not only seen the evidence, but heard commentary, and pondered on your incomparable behavior.” The peddler answered. “I now also know why you cannot be trusted around decent people.”

Chapter Six
“I’m so glad.” The wicked fool empathized. “Isn’t it a miracle I didn’t abscond with all your garlic?”
“No. I was on to you, long ago, and had it securely tied to my pack.” The peddler said.
“Oh. That explains why you were not victimized.” The wicked fool said. “Where were we?”
“The gods are fiends, but we can’t murder them.” The peddler recollected. “Because we are disarmed.”
“Oh, yes. But enough of such enjoyable discernment. Let’s get back to hard saving of the planet.” The wicked fool said.
“I’m ready.” The peddler said.
“We are riding our species on a parabolic growth curve, and every day we approach a point closer to the descending precipice.” The wicked fool said. “Without the Pontibus, it will take a miracle for us not to drop down the exponential slope into oblivion. Even with such a miracle, we may still not remain extant. We need those Great Bridges.”
“Maybe some disease will come along and wipe us all out.” The peddler suggested.
“The super-predators are planning on that, I have no doubt; They’ve even said as much.” The wicked fool said.
“Really?” The peddler said.
“Yes. But they will need to hit us very hard with a number of microbial assaults. Deploying just one will not do the job. Ebola, Zika, etc. were just small-scale trial runs for the high-impact simian viruses they eventually plan to use.” The wicked fool said. “We are only being used as guinea pigs, at present. Our main purpose, for them, is as simian slaves.”
“Why won’t just one virus wipe us out?” The peddler asked.
“For the same reason some natural disease, like bubonic plague, could not wipe us out. We have immune systems, and there will always be survivors.” The wicked fool explained. “Those intrepid entropic guardians of decentralization are not omnipotent.”
“I see.”
“Most learned people would agree that our chief enemies on the planet are microbes, fungi, and insects. I do not believe that. I think that although they are indeed unfriendly competitors, quasi-enemies, they do also help us to survive.” The wicked fool said.
“Yeasts, mushrooms, and bees come to mind, as our friends, but there are many others not so benign.” The peddler said.
“Very true.” The wicked fool said. “Yersinia pestis, Black Death, took out 1/3 of Europe’s Homo in the 14th century, almost a fourth of our entire species. It was a culling that we sorely needed. Imagine what our population would be today if the plague had not appeared.”
“Mind boggling to be sure.” The peddler said.
“We have never even begun to show our appreciation.” The wicked fool said.
“And you are truly ashamed of that fact.” The peddler joked. “I can tell.”
“Absolutely.”
“So.” The peddler said. “You found where you left your shame?”
“Yes. Apparently.”
“Embarrassment aside, showing our appreciation would be difficult, if the human race did indeed want to do such a magnanimous but futile act.” The peddler said.
The wicked fool laughed and said. “I do not think that there are any monuments to microbes anywhere. It’s not politic to do so, given rampant preoccupation with irresponsible religious superstition and death-worship. If we are to be better-advised, however, we must accept the fact that insects, fungi, and microbes are not our chief enemies. “Our actual enemies are simians, intra-species predators. Simian parasites and caedere wealth pursuit are far deadlier. They are uncontrolled and may be uncontrollable in our species.”
“You will have to explain to me why you feel death-worship and intra-species predation are so, apparently, omnipotent?” The peddler said.
“Okay, But, first we need to define what a human predator is.” The wicked fool said.
“If someone believes they have a right to make other people sick . . . rob them, rape them, or kill them, I suppose.” The peddler guessed.
“Then they are a predator?” The wicked fool said.
“Yes.” The peddler said. “I believe so.”
“I agree. Putting people in prison, for years, as slaves, because they were found to have the wrong vegetable or piece of a prohibited plant in their pocket.” The wicked fool asked. “That is not predation?”
“That is definitely inappropriate.” The peddler said, looking around circumspectly.
“I agree, but I would add, that it is also predation; as is keeping sick people sick or using Written Law to help them stay out of prison.” The wicked fool said.
“Why the latter?” The peddler asked.
“Keeping sick people sick to acquire caedere wealth is as parasitic as making them sick in the first place, isn’t it?” The wicked fool asked.
“Yeah. I guess so.” The peddler agreed.
“The Talmud commands their swindled victims do both those things.” The wicked fool said. “Among many other crimes, it mandates. Most Jewish doctors are Talmudists.”
“I understand why putting people in prison is predatory, but why is keeping people out of prison a form of predation too?” The peddler asked.
“Lawyers and pols sell the idea that they can legislate away Nature by making crimes out of Natural Law, by making criminals out of healthy people. Power, obtained as a residual of caedere wealth possession, is predation. Using Written Law, either to enslave or not to enslave, is predatory. It’s a way of sidestepping the guilt of using usurped power to enslave or to profit from refraining from enslaving. Blame it on the “Law”, like priests blame it all on “God”. It means insuring that those with lesser amounts of caedere wealth, the predator can acquire, will go to Hell, prison, or lose court cases, more often than will those which have much caedere wealth that the predator can acquire.” The wicked fool said. “Written Law is a farce, when it is not used as a weapon against the disenfranchised. Even the morning cup of coffee contains sufficient heartless cruelty to exemplify just one aspect of the ineffectiveness of the excuse that its advocates give for its existence. All the world’s coffee drinkers overlook that cruelty, as they do the war profiteers. The arms industry and the rich have not the slightest perception of the sadness and pain that they cause with their insane gold-digging, and even if they did see it they have not got enough sentiment to stop it. It’s like two separate worlds exist, entire and distinct, one from the other. The Law assists that estrangement by protecting the “have” world from the “not have” other.”
“That’s true.” The peddler said.
“Lawyers demand caedere wealth as a reward for both enslaving and not enslaving. The wicked fool said. “Do they not?”
“Yes. I think so.” The peddler said.
“They do.” The wicked fool said. “And that is only part of the deceit. If a lawyer knows it can get more caedere advancement, like money, from its client’s adversary than from its own client by stabbing its own client in the back, do you think it will refrain from doing so?”
“I don’t know.” The peddler admitted.
“Of course, it won’t.” The wicked fool answered himself. “I have never heard of a loyal attorney, ever. Lawyers call such common betrayal of the trust people have in them “getting too close to a case”. All lawyers “get too close to the case”, even the state’s lawyers. Do you think judges do not get calls in the evening, while they are sitting comfortably with a glass of Cabernet, watching child-porn videos in the privacy of their homes? Do you think they do not get demands in those phone calls that they “get too close to a case”? Do you think they are not directed to throw a litigant to the wolves? Human predators are weaker, more grasping, more treacherous, not more fit, than their human prey in all categories. Yet, the predators are the ones that wield power over others and control contingencies.”
“Why?”
“A good question. Possession of caedere wealth, or its lack, has no relationship to human value or fitness, not even a slight correlation.” The wicked fool said. “Like lawyers and pols, most possessors of large amounts of caedere symbolism are found in the dregs of humanity, not at its apex.”
“I don’t know.” The peddler replied.
“Is a carnivore more fit than an herbivore?” The wicked fool asked.
“No.”
“Does a cannibal’s eating of simian flesh mean it is more suitable to rule simians?” The wicked fool asked.
“No.”
“I agree.” The wicked fool said. “The reason why predation is so strong and prevalent today is not because it deceptively defines our fitness. It’s because of the bizarre, grasping, death-worshipping, and perverted characterization of wealth.”
“Caedere.”
“Right.” The wicked fool said. “Even more than other Life, predators are all interconnected, aiding and abetting each other. They are also very efficient accumulators of caedere wealth. Such super cartels, predator alliances, and political-sewer sanctions are a direct violation of Natural Law, reversing the natural order of selection principles. The true enemy of biosustainability is the drive to acquire and hold caedere wealth – death symbols. All threats to protoplasmic life and all resource exhaustion can be attributed to simian over-population and the will to acquire caedere wealth. Caedere wealth protects us from reality, but it cannot do so forever. Incredibly callous waste of planetary bounty and willful ignorance are made possible by caedere wealth economics. The more money or debt possessed, the greater license is given to institutionalized madness. There is a direct proportion involved.”
“Speaking of institutionalized madness, wouldn’t you also term religion a collective psychosis? Despite much grandiloquence to the contrary, from what I’ve seen, religionists trust in wealth above all else, even their God, especially even more than their God.” The peddler said.
“Yet, they remain terrified of death and truly try to believe in a life in paradise after death.” The wicked fool said. “These people are indeed mad and serious cowards.”
“That’s because the alternative to their fantasy is more than they can bear.” The peddler said.
“I believe that too.” The wicked fool said. “Setting aside for a moment the illogic of their premise. The faith that they profess to have. .”
“But do not have . .” The peddler said.
“Right. But, whatever. It means logically that their death is a necessary step along the way to eternal bliss.” The wicked fool said. “Does it not?”
“Yes! Yes! They desire death! Maybe someday someone will give these death-worshippers that for which they dream.” The peddler said.
“Oh, I’m sure of it, and so are they.” The wicked fool said. “Something will. My concern is that they are going to drag all Life down with them to prove it.”
“They’re trying to.” The peddler said. “Have you ever read the Bible’s book of Revelations?”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “They believe death and destruction means ecstasy.”
“Really?” The peddler said.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “They believe that universal death will indeed result in a state of eternal euphoria for them.”
“Why?”
“Because, they want everyone else to suffer and not them.” The wicked fool said. “Believers are like that crazy vindictive 13th century Italian poet, Dante Alighieri. He wrote that he went flying around vantage points in the “other-world”, as a quasi-zombie, observing the “unsaved” being tortured and eternally dying. Like Dante, these believers feel they will be avenged by watching the promised tormenting of their fellows. It’s part of the hatred and envy package these religious whackos harbor and feel for every other person in the world. Religious people are truly mentally-diseased.”
Yet, they seem to trust in symbolic death, caedere wealth, even more than they want an actual death!” The peddler said.
“Unequaled madness one could not find in Bedlam.” The wicked fool said. “Intelligent and mentally healthy people do not believe such rot. But, such people are scarce.”
“You and I do not believe it.” The peddler said.
“But, we are both poor.” The wicked fool said. “We don’t count.”
“You’re right.” The peddler said. “Nobody listens to beggars.”
“Maybe it’s a kind of psychological defensive response for us.” The wicked fool said. “Another twisted type of envy.”
“No. Our persuasion is uncommon.” The peddler said. “Poor is common.”
“True. Most of the Genus Homo is neither intelligent nor mentally healthy. That’s why “dem”ocracy, the rule of the “dem”ented, in”dem”nifies the ballot box.” The wicked fool said. “It insures that the most ignoble and corrupt of the human resource bucket is selected for coronation.”
“Majority rules.” The peddler said.

Chapter Seven
“My point exactly.” The wicked fool said. “Gang rape. The most ignorant and base of the voters are always in the majority. The minority and the disenfranchised are just expected to get screwed and go to hell.”
“But, I thought we were agreed that such a place does not exist?” The peddler said, lightheartedly.
“Very funny.” The humorless wicked fool said. “If these death-worshipping religious predators are successful in killing us off, pitching our intelligence, mental health, and “also-rans” into . . .”
“Ye-e-es.” The peddler drawled.
The wicked fool’s growing heat cooled, and he said. “ . . .There will be less Entropy than with a healthy planet. Entropy would be on our side, if we took it into consideration. Earth, with a Pontibus, could be healthier and more disordered.”
“Are you sure of that?” The peddler asked.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said.
“Why?”
“With multicellular life, Entropy gains measurably over either a unicellular-Life-filled planet or a sterile world.” The wicked fool said.
“What is Entropy?” The peddler asked.
“Entropy is chaos, disorder, randomness, chance, stochastic . . .” The wicked fool said.
“And you say a healthy planet is disordered?” The peddler queried, abruptly. “Chaotic?!”
“Yes.”
“You’re not making any sense.” The peddler said. “Everyone respects Law & Order in a society, except for criminals!”
“Criminals respect Law & Order in a society more than others do. They need an ordered population. It’s easier to exploit those who are regimented to obey certain rules. Law-abiding people are accustomed to accept the misconception that everyone is law-abiding as they are. But, that’s another matter. Order in Society is brought about by maximum disorder at the molecular level.” The wicked fool said. “If there were no disorder, at the molecular level, nothing could exist. Entropy is one of the four Laws of Thermodynamics. Nothing exists apart from it.”
“And the other three Laws?” The peddler asked.
“Temperature, no free lunch, Entropy is eternal.” The wicked fool said.
“That’s why I’m two rings of garlic poorer.” The peddler said.
“Something like that.” The wicked fool said. “You now know all four Laws of Thermodynamics.”
“And I didn’t even need to study physics.” The peddler said.
“Lucky devil.”
“Getting back to Entropy. Why do we want, even crave order, if Entropy is so contrary to it?” The peddler asked.
“Not to be anthropomorphic, but, long ago, Entropy made a de facto Devil’s Bargain with Life. Entropy accepts a bit of molecular order by allowing Life. In return, Life allows Entropy an increased disorder overall.” The wicked fool said. “It boils down to Entropy being “God Almost Almighty” and Life being “The Devil”.”
“Are you pulling my leg?” The peddler asked.
“No. Well, actually, it wasn’t Life, as such, but what Life is largely made of – water – that made the tacit agreement.” The wicked fool said. “It’s hard to accept that anyone, other than small children before a bath, would believe that water is the Devil. Much easier to believe Life is the horned fiend. But, it amounts to the same thing.”
“Really?” The peddler queried.
“Absolutely.” The wicked fool said. “The water molecule exists only because Entropy has no choice. One of those natural facts that stump me.”
“Really?” The peddler said. “Why?”
“I understand the chemistry & physics, but the implications are . . .why Life allows insane death-worshipping religious belief is beyond my powers to decipher. Even if you discount those great maniacs, the passionate death-worshippers, Luciferians, Christians, Jews, and Muslims – what remains of the human race also worships death!” The wicked fool said. “And I don’t understand that.
“We all use caedere criteria to define our wealth, and its accumulation is our god?” The peddler said.
“Precisely. Why can’t we count on Entropy to assist us more? We all behave as if we were dwarfed religionists! We are just a little bit less ignorant and demented than are Luciferians, Christians, Jews and Muslims! But, we too worship death and have been remiss in learning biosustainability. We need to worship Life in all its diversity and interconnectedness, or we will go extinct.” The wicked fool said.
“So, why don’t we?” The peddler asked.
“Don’t we what?” The wicked fool said.
“Why don’t we worship Life?” The peddler asked.
“Exactly.” The wicked fool seconded. “Why?”
“Beats me.” The peddler said. “Does that worshipping of Life include worshipping the life of predators?”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “We must worship Life, all life, throwing caedere wealth into the trash can of history.”
“Isn’t there an inconsistency in that, with predators?” The peddler asked.
“It’s a paradox, having to do with the way we are built.” The wicked fool said. “Nature has not made it easy to separate our behavioral characteristics from our life. If we can’t convince the super-predators to stop parasitizing us, weakening our species, we can still worship the life in them. If we remove their predatory behavior, Nature may retake their life. Either they perish or we all perish. It may be either oblivion for the predator or extinction of the human race. The simian world demands you either prey upon or be prey. I’m offering an alternative, as a missioned human. People need to make the choice.”
“If our short past is any prognosticator of our future, we will probably perish, dragging most other life forms down into oblivion with us.” The peddler said.
“Unfortunately, yes.” The wicked fool said. “The simian race is so despicable that it has accepted collective madness as normal.”
The peddler did not appreciate being called despicable, and he let the wicked fool know his mind, saying. “The whole world is crazy, and only you are sane!?”
“You might say that.” The wicked fool said. “A bit draconian in delivery, but it tends to be a sound observation.”
“You’re beginning to prove the argument of that guy over there concerning the state of your mental health.” The peddler said.
“Is what I’m saying really such a large stretch of reason to accept?” The wicked fool asked.
“Yes.” The peddler said.
“Do I need to show you how crazy the simians on this planet are?” The wicked fool asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay, I will.” The wicked fool said.
“Please do.” The peddler answered.
“The world’s governments are mostly democracy look-alikes.” The wicked fool said. “Are they not?”
“Yes. I think so.” The peddler answered.
The wicked fool said. “The most base and ignorant of the greatest cowards and miscreants ever to exist vote the corrupt and treacherous political potentates into office. Once the predacious liars and traitors are elected, these same voters worship them. Is that insanity so hard to recognize?”
“It’s not unmatched intelligence but, when you consider the alternatives, . . “ The peddler equivocated.
“Okay, try this.” The wicked fool said. “Virtually the entire population of the world knows that the genus Homo represents an enormous subset, 7+ billion, of ignorant, brutal, treacherous, lazy and dishonest wastrels. That alone is a sobering thought. What is so incredible is that most people still will do almost anything to gain approval, admiration, and respect from these glorified macaques!”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” The peddler said.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to make you see.” The wicked fool said.
“I didn’t want to see it.” The peddler said. “It hurts, and it’s terrifying.”
“What is worse is that Life is utterly meaningless.” The wicked fool said.
“It is?”
“It is. We all have a little fun, some more than others. We all suffer a bit, some more than others. We all make an impact, some more than others. Then we all die and rot, signifying nothing. We cannot even answer the most fundamental questions of our existence.”
“What are they?” The peddler asked.
“I don’t know what will become of me! How does something come from nothing, i.e. how did mass, energy and Entropy get here?” The wicked fool asked. “Where is it leading?”
“As far as I know, those questions have never even come close to being answered.” The peddler said.
“No. They’re always pushed further off point, using the guise of erudite “authority”. The wicked fool said.
“Well. . “
“Excuse me. I forgot about the “God did it” religious nonsense of its de facto victims.” The wicked fool said.
“You’re excused.” The peddler said.
“But, Life being meaningless does not also mean Life is not bizarre.” The wicked fool said.
“How is that?” The peddler asked.
“If you do not accept that nothing exists, i.e. we and all of space are not just imaginary fugues, then, the madness of our existence is blatantly obvious. We don’t even know for sure that we exist! What is superimposed on that madness is even more off the wall. People work and scheme to accumulate caedere wealth. Do they not?” The wicked fool asked.
“Yes.”
“People don’t really know if they even exist. There is no proof anywhere. But, they want symbols of death, imaginary proof of separation from existence, around them, anyway. They even make last wills and testaments for disposal of caedere fortunes subsequent to their demise. They want, in their virtual impotence, to control life, that may not exist, with death and symbolic death even after their own death.” The wicked fool said. “We live completely intermingled with death, non-being, both inside our bodies and outside of them, past, present and future, existing and non-existing.”
“Conditions, post mortem, cannot be affected accurately to conform to the will of either the living body or the corpse.” The peddler said.
“No.” The wicked fool said. “The moribund will order that, after their demise, their estate’s executors bestow caedere wealth in such ways as they think that it will matter to them while in “zombie” status. The will-to-power illusion inundates everything in close proximity.”
“Bizarre is the word.” The peddler said.
“Many give their heirs great caedere wealth. They may assume that these heirs are not filled with hate for them or were not their sworn enemies in a past existence or from some other dimension or simulation.” The wicked fool said.
“Such behavior does indeed appear to be madness. I apologize. Why doesn’t the entire world just get drunk, like we’re doing.” The peddler asked.
“Hear. Hear.” The wicked fool said. “And stay that way till cirrhosis delivers to paradise?”
“Why not?” The peddler asked.
“Is the threat of hangovers, dangling overhead, like Damocles sword, all that keeps humanity from pursuing, even more enthusiastically, the means to destroy all life?” The wicked fool asked.
“It seems to be a logical premise.” The peddler said.
“We may be on to something here.” The wicked fool said.
“I’m sure in our elevated state of incipient inebriation there are aspects were just not seeing.” The peddler cautioned.
“Probably right.” The wicked fool said. “I’ve had enough.”
“It’s getting dark, and I still need to get my hammock tied up.” The peddler said.
“You can do that at my pousada.” The wicked fool said, as they left the praça.

Chapter Eight
The nest day, the garlic peddler went to Mucajai & Caracarai to sell his herb, and the wicked fool worked around his little pousada. It was a number of weeks later that the garlic peddler returned to Apiaunhai. He had saved a little, from his sales, and stopped in to see the wicked fool. The peddler wanted to buy a few beers for a repeat of their last time together. The wicked fool was fixing a light socket but replied that he would be ready in a few minutes.
The wicked fool took longer than expected with the electrical repairs as his eyesight precluded a quick resolution. What should have taken a short time, with good eyesight, took a long time with his cataracts. Both principal and penury obviated a resolution to his vision problem. But, as the wicked fool finished his task, the peddler used the time to tie his hammock to a couple of mango trees, growing in the pousada’s quintal, and take a shower. Later, they made their way to the bar.
After the two were seated and a beer was on the table before them, the peddler started the conversation, saying. “I’ve done a lot of thinking about what you said about wealth.”
“And have you come to any conclusions as to whether you agree or disagree?” The wicked fool asked.
“It sounded good, but there were things you said that made me uncomfortable. I want to hear more.” The peddler said.
“What made you uncomfortable?” The wicked fool asked.
“Well. I’m a believer in free-market capitalism.” The peddler said.
“And capital is so very closely connected to caedere values, right?” The wicked fool said.
“Yes. That’s my problem.” The peddler answered.
“The predation, intrinsic in capitalism, can be insidious.” The wicked fool admitted. “But the alternatives are no better. Both communism and socialism are capitalist creations. They were designed to enslave the population just as late stage capitalism did. The former enslaved more rapidly than did capitalism, but both used caedere wealth to usher in that slavery.”
“We must show some responsibility, if we are to keep a free-market, and I don’t know where to begin with that.” The peddler said.
“Not much I like more than speaking about human responsibility.” The wicked fool said. “I think we can keep the free-market and still be responsible.”
“How?”
“First of all we need to somehow overcome the fact that personal responsibility is currently impossible for us.” The wicked fool said.
“We do?” The peddler asked. “It is?”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “It would be so nice to believe in free will and personal responsibility, as do the religious, blaming it on God, on one hand, and on themselves on the other hand, all at the same time.”
“Wouldn’t it though.” The peddler agreed. “But, that would take faith in an impossibility.”
“Yes, it would.” The wicked fool answered. “The religious have no problem denying their “God-given” reason, but as a scientist, I can’t do that. My reason tells me that my “responsibility” is controlled by poorly understood programmers, fluctuating chemical salt solutions, and biological commensals inside and outside my person.”
“We are mere puppets?” The peddler asked.
“That is one way of looking at it.” The wicked fool said. “And, for most of the living world, it is a good analogy.”
“Is there no escaping it?” The peddler asked.
“Yes, there is.” The wicked fool said. “But, it is not easy, and we must rebel.”
“Against whom?” The peddler asked.
“Against the status quo and perhaps the programmers.”
“I understand countering the status quo, but to what programmers do you refer?” The peddler asked.
“I’m not sure . . . DNA, digital simulators… I do know the risk and the symptoms of revolution failure.” The wicked fool said.
“What?”
“Are you familiar with the ancient Greek expression. “He whom the gods wish to destroy, they first drive mad.”?” The wicked fool asked.
“Yes.”
The wicked fool continued. “Then, you know what happens if your attempt at personal responsibility runs counter to some programmer.”
“I don’t understand.”
“To challenge the irresponsibility we must break something, some rule, commit suicide, or something.” The wicked fool said. “We cannot be personally responsible and still remain within the bars surrounding the cage of objective reality.”
“Now, I’m really confused.” The peddler said. “You’re saying we must be crazy to be responsible beings!?”
“To be responsible creatures, we must belong to a biosustainable society.” The wicked fool said. “That means we must free ourselves from normal sanctioned irresponsible behavior. The most irresponsible part of our existence is the current definition of wealth – caedere capital. We must change our species’ values from pro-death to pro-life, from pro-caedere to pro-animans. The Great Pontibus Bridges are one way of doing that. It is also way past the time for us to make peace with Nature. We must fall back on many age-old methods of survival.”
The peddler interjected. “Natural Law can be dangerous.”
“And a hard master.” The wicked fool added.
“For what it’s worth, the ancients agreed with your tentative solution.” The peddler read from a book he was holding. “Lucan said it best – “Naturamque sequi” – “follow Nature”.”
“Our species needs eugenics, euthanasia and targeted violence as much as any species does.” The wicked fool said. “But, 7+ billion people will never entirely accept it. They are not strong enough, and the instincts other creatures are born with, simians lack.”
“I don’t know if I like where you are taking me.” The peddler said. “What do you mean by targeted violence?”
“There are many additional targets I’m sure I’m neglecting but, essentially, I’m thinking of the enemies of liberty and self-defense.” The wicked fool said. “Our entire species is enslaved to caedere wealth. It’s immaterial whether it comes as a result of super-predator design or in response to the might of their political manipulation. Caedere wealth rapes the planet and enables the super-predators to toy with establishing totalitarian rigidity. Biometrics and the “internet of things” are just the beginning. We are soon to be inundated by technological despotic control and surveillance. The stringency of our conditioning is about to take on a whole new aspect.”
“The signs are ubiquitous, and people seem to be begging for it.” The peddler added.
“That’s the way I read it. Despotic political order is the parent of catatonic rigidity. Biologically, rigidity means death. Socially, universal despotism means species death or at the very least democides, genocides, and the end of human betterment.” The wicked fool said. “We are not insects, moving in step with female pheromones. Nor, are we meant to exist in an agro-managerial Oriental absolutism.”
The two ordered a tira-gosto, and the wicked fool continued. “Perceptions become conceptions. Predator-twisted perceptions, filtered through a corrupt and mendacious media, controlled by totalitarianism, will in due course solidify into twisted conceptions. Twisted rigid concepts in a species will even change gene expression and eventually manifest as lemming-like madness. Such concepts cum dementia must ultimately end in our extinction.”
“Nature is not fooled by our species’ ignorance.” The peddler said.
“She is not. From ample experience, with her past failures, She understands it only too well.” The wicked fool agreed. “She has very little patience with any weakness.”
“And you believe that the lemming-like madness has already started?” The peddler asked.
“Yes. It appears that as we lose more of our liberty, becoming fond of our regimentation, we also lose our ability to discern how to live naturally.” The wicked fool said. “We forget natural wisdom and fundamental morality, depending on government and our neighbors to keep us in line. There is an uncontrolled and even passionate refusal to live naturally and cull simian freaks from the herd. Cheap energy, unlimited predation, caedere wealth accumulation, etc. intoxicate us. If carried to logical conclusions, such changes will force our partially deranged species into complete madness. Unquestioned adulation, emulation & exaltation of super-predators does not help.”
“I assume the “super-predators” you refer to are the Rothschilds, the Queens, etc.?” The peddler asked.
“Yes. Among other serious possessors of caedere wealth.” The wicked fool said. “Nature gave these people a super-predatorial capacity to use simian specific camouflage, (i.e. the ability to cheat, steal, and betray), with impunity. Along with that capacity, however, Nature gave them a great weakness – they cannot ever curtail those predatory tendencies enough to be human beings. Most people consider such super-predators to be evil, just because they are human predators, parasites.” The wicked fool said.
“You do not!?” The peddler asked.
“No. The truth is much more prosaic.” The wicked fool said. “Super-predators are simply incapable of displaying human qualities, beyond those existing in all simians.”
“Super-predators are “inhuman”.” The peddler said.
“Yes, but, “inhuman” not in the sense that it is used just as another word for evil. “Inhuman” in the sense that they lack purpose. To be “human” one must aspire to something. Simian moral judgements are ridiculous, mostly religious nonsense. They are not instinctual or based on natural principles. Epistemology and casuistry tell us little about true morality. The idiosyncrasies of others’ ethical behavior do not give us any legitimate right to pass judgement on the gravity of their moral worth or their personification of “good” or “evil”.”
“Why not?”
“Such conduct is savagery, unenlightened ignorance.” The wicked fool said.
“It is?” The peddler asked, beginning, once again, to think his interlocutor was likely as crazy and wicked as his neighbors thought.
“Of course, it is.” The wicked fool said. “We are, hopelessly, too ignorant for sitting in judgement, especially in a world where personal responsibility for action cannot exist.”
“Because of something as common as generalized ignorance, we have no right to judge anyone in the human condition?” The peddler asked.
“We have no natural right to even attempt to judge.” The wicked fool said. “Our overriding ignorance is too great to be described. It’s like tar-baby. Every time we attempt to escape the pain of our impotence, by “judging” an unfortunate, we get stuck on the tar all over again. All we do when we arrogate the right to judge is to bring more pain into the world. Our only recourse with respect to predation is to determine if a person’s actions may tend to contribute to our demise or that of our community.”
“You really believe there is no righteous or evil, sacred or profane, good or bad, right or wrong?” The peddler asked.
“Incredible, isn’t it? Blackstone would consider me as “insane”, as do my simian neighbors.” The wicked fool said. “But, I believe there are no good humans, just as there are no evil humans. Imputing personal responsibility for individual behavior is a super swindle. If Society wishes to have a gentler & more conforming group with which to coexist, it had better start doing a better job of socializing the young.”
“You are aware that not just the people here but the entire world would probably feel you to be insane, saying and believing such statements?” The peddler said.
“Sure. I’m a sentient being.” The wicked fool said. “Just to survive in this cage, I need to know the state of mind of the average simian. But, I don’t care if the entire world believes I’m crazy for my inferences. I do care about the significances of those beliefs, but the penalties are out of my control as are all consequences of our behavior. My opinions represent a lifetime of observations and analyzing of uncomfortable facts that many others do not dare either to think about or acknowledge. What I hypothesize as truth I incorporate in my mind along with my creative efforts and leave it at that. Other than to beware of most of them, the world’s prevailing opinions are worthless to me. I was still a young man when I learned to beware of the dangerously stupid simian world.”
“How is that?” The peddler asked.
“I have been a criminal my entire life.” The wicked fool said.
“What!?”
“Not a predator, mind you, a criminal – a person whose behavior stands apart from the norm, the ultimate minority, unaccepted and unacceptable by society.” The wicked fool said. “My life of crime began at 3 years of age by pulling Lowey Wigger’s pigtails, whenever she let me do so. It got easier from there. Unfortunately, there is no way of going back in time to undo the acts of which you repent. You learn a lot about ignorance & stupidity when, from a distance, of time and space, you get the opportunity to watch it being practiced by yourself or others. Crime does not indicate depravity. We are all depraved. Crime answers a need.”
“What?” The peddler asked. “Greed?”
The wicked fool was silent for a moment, and then he spoke. “Crime! What a farce. To confront life, in this toxic medium, Entropy, Nature, or some other programmer charges us with an assortment of variegated courages or their lack. We must learn to exist with this set of affairs, although many do not. We survive in a condition without consistent rules, until suicide or some other painful and tragic death gives us respite. There are many exceptions to the efficacy of the Golden Rule, and not everyone has the gift of infallible foresight. Most people never willfully seek to hurt others to alleviate their own pain, but it happens, nonetheless. After a criminal mistake is made, the perpetrator never gets free of the consequential sequelae. Should sleep come, they awaken each endless day to an unending nightmare.”
“There has to be some reckoning? Doesn’t there?” The peddler asked.
“There is!” The wicked fool replied. “Too much! That is my point! We pay too much, with suffering, for our existence. If my composite behavior causes or has caused more agony in the world than succor, something has gone wrong with my manifestation. Kill me, quickly. But who is to judge – brutal corrupt parasitic lawyers & judges or superstitious predators that cause as much or more pain than I? We are in this milieu to suffer. Incredible agony is the only conceivable consistent reason from a study of Life for our existence. No one, no being, is qualified to judge anyone in the human condition. I have committed many crimes in my life. Natural inclinations and weaknesses like ignorance or desperation drove me to the negative aspects. When or if I learned what I was doing was hurting others I quit . . . if I could. If I couldn’t avoid exposure, I did my best to not get caught. I saw sufficient utility in self-castigation for my misdeeds, and for other events over which I had no control. Why allow licensed thugs to punish me? Life was castigating me enough already for the positive aspects of my crimes. When the wave function collapses, the lens of actuality leaves some crimes alone while others are prosecuted. It’s the luck of the draw. Prosecution is just an exercise in cruelty and futility. Life itself indicts and castigates for disregard of proscriptions. I punished my children because I was too ignorant to know a better way to alleviate the pain of my desperation to protect them. Beyond the ignorance aspect, Society does not even have that excuse for which to boast. It presents a perfect example of why democracies are always predatory tyrannies. Given time, the powerful majority will always abuse the weak minority. The popular vote is virtually entirely politically-correct, superstitious hogwash. Most of it is manipulated into existence by astrological tyranny, social-media algorithms, bogus history, and insidious propaganda.”
“I can’t agree with your perspective. People like Gyorgy Schwartz, Trump, Buffet, Rothschild, Gates, Zucker, and other billionaires like them, are monsters in sheep’s clothing.” The peddler said.
“”Monster” is an epithet we tie on creatures we do not understand. People with varying degrees of human weakness, liberally sprinkled about with neighborly ignorance, are designated good or bad by brutes on the basis of behavioral interpretation.” The wicked fool said. “Those people you termed monsters are weak unfortunate graspers, super-predators, squirrels laying up nuts for winters that never come. The entire world believes them to be naturally privileged, but the simian world is very ignorant and does not make accurate monikers. The super-predator is a blind slave to caedere wealth, power and callous hedonism. These individuals cannot see how their avarice is destroying themselves, the human race, and all life on the planet.”
“I do not agree.” The peddler said.
“You cannot agree, because you cannot face your impotence.” The wicked fool said.
“Impotence?!”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “You use faith in Written Law to escape your feelings of inadequacy and powerlessness. You, and others like you, wait patiently for these super-predators to make a mistake. You think some lawyer Galahad somewhere will miraculously take them down and put them behind bars. It’s an ignis fatuus, and it rarely happens.”
“It might.” The peddler squirmed.
“You were speaking earlier about your lack of responsibility.” The wicked fool said.
“I was?”
“Yes, you were. You were not lying. If you accepted my conclusion, as your principle, you would have a vastly greater responsibility than if you did not.” The wicked fool said. “It’s too much weight for you. Truth is a very bitter medicine to take straight. But, I have found that unaccepted responsibility leaves one feeling small, spiritless, and powerless.”
“And you feel, on that basis, we have no right to judge or order our society accordingly?” The peddler asked.
“We have no capacity to judge, ergo – no right. We misappropriate. We usurp that right. Ordering our society is another matter.” The wicked fool said.
“Aren’t they connected?” The peddler queried.
“Yes. But, to understand them, they must be separated.’ The wicked fool said. “ANYTHING you do or say, today or in the past, can be used against you, if not today, then down the path. Weakness can be as ephemeral and as accepted as to find oneself vulnerable to the state because the state has changed a law or the media has changed a social more. Innocence can become guilt at the whim of the pols or the “politically correct” mob. Law enforcement brutality in the ZSA is almost invulnerable to restraint now with militarized police, rampant fascism, biometrics, digital surveillance, currency laws, “smart” appliances, and the rape of the U.S. Constitution. The mob enforces “politically correct” nonsense at every revolution of the wheel of whim. Snitching and betrayal of friends to the state is only routine conduct now. Cops rob citizens on the street, in their cars & homes, and at the bank. Right and wrong are as pliable as a pol’s sense of loyalty. What one feels today can be the opposite tomorrow just because of the variable locale or social structure, the salt concentration of your brain, or the microbial contents of your intestine. Attributes that people consider moral or evil are not objective qualities but are values subjectively imposed by others. Such judgmental thinking is the residue of savage cultures. Luciferianism, Christianity, Judaism, Islam and other mystical “other-world” religions are contemporary savage cultures that smack of “taboos” and superstitious nonsense. The unkind truth is that we feel compelled to judge unfortunates in the human condition, because we fear Entropy.”
“Chaos?”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Let me give you an example: A man is arrested for putting his right index finger into the vagina of a 10-year-old virgin. Depending on the political situation in the home, the insertion into a child, having poor parents or a child from a wealthy home may have different affects. It may cause the child a certain amount of pain. She recovers – a bit wiser and perhaps less trusting for the experience. Exactly similar conditions may also cause an excruciating and unbearable amount of pain, and the child must remain in therapy the rest of her entire life. The response of the child is relative, but the facts are similar and clear.”
“A crime was committed.” The peddler said.

Chapter Nine
The wicked fool said. “Simians are so obsessed with repressed sexual matters that they reserve their most draconian and creative punishments for violators of their silly taboos. I would say that a person has obviously succumbed to an animal weakness, an inability to resist the strongest and most primal urge that exists in Man. The child, as innocent as a baby rabbit, also could not resist the state of absolute subjugation and unawareness of childhood. The man may not have considered: the child to be a human being, or that the child was not capable of adult awareness, or the deed’s unintended consequences, or that he had lost control. In western democracy, the man will now be subjected to the most brutal punishment that the Christian state allows – imprisonment in close proximity to ignorant, brutal, sadistic, self-righteous, simian rejects. Semitic leaning countries consider women to be slightly closer to devils in parentage than do Christian countries, and would undoubtedly thrust the guilt on the girl, regardless of her age.”
“Considering what ZWO-funded feminists have done to the world with feminist-controlled democracies one can almost make a very politically-incorrect argument that leans toward the Semitic point of view.” The peddler said. “The way women treat men in your country is unconscionable! Unbridled savagery.”
“I can’t agree with all of that. Nature prizes the lack of civilization in women.” The wicked fool said. “They can elect, heroically, to survive when Life has nothing to offer them but pain. Most of the problems in the world today are over-population related, even female abuse of men. Why? Nature put population numbers under the control of women. The priests and the state took that control away from them and placed it with the predators. We must return population control to the women, everywhere, immediately. I do not think that their limited savagery ever merits the application of the ultra-brutal Sharia Law. For such an assault, a child could never be held accountable in a sentient sane society. Only someone stark, raving mad could hold that the child was responsible. But, whatever, back to my example. Countries governed by Sharia Law would maintain that the man fell victim to the devil-possessed female, and the child could be subjected to the most brutal punishment that the Islamic state allows – stoning to death.”
“Barbaric!”
“Which one?”
“Why, the Semitic, of course.” The peddler riposted.
“Oh, of course.” The wicked fool mocked. “We can’t criticize the western societies’ behavior, can we?! Nevertheless. Here we have the identical situation. Only the geography is different. Similar crime, and similar ignorant religious citizens are given the right to judge. Both believe in the identical fiendish god, the indistinguishably demented idea of an afterlife, and comparable existence, post-death, in a similar state of zombiehood, etc. With the exact same act, but in different locales & shades of mob dementia, the exact opposite concept of damage and guilt emerges. Different appellations of right or wrong, exoneration or punishment, are applied to the same selected outrage.”
““The deed is everything, the glory nothing.” Goethe”. The peddler said, as an aside.
“One can argue over the standards of guilt, the ramifications of “God’s Grace & Will”, the extent and colors of ambient savagery that exist, until one is too tired to continue asserting the supremacy of one’s argument over one’s interlocutor. The absurdity of guilt-tossing is rudimentary. All that transpires differently after judgement, from that which went on before, is that those in positions of authority present to the world an additional allocation of suffering that they have perpetrated by their usurpation. Deterrence and recidivism-prevention, awash in legalese, are just meaningless pretexts for socially-sanctioned base sadism. Intergenerational and geographic value changes, political status of defendant, and caedere-wealth-possession render ample examples of how standards are applied summarily and differently for similar offenses. The human condition fears Entropy’s control. One might consider how all acts of passion are controlled by engineered attitudes, genetic memory, subtle changes in cerebral salt concentrations, microbial commensalism, and infinitely small aberrant nerve impulses. Should one do so, one can only remark upon how unjust, imprudent, and brutal it is to sling shame and cast blame.” The wicked fool said. “You’d also be surprised at the kind of citizen for which you select if the opportunity for growth, you provide it, is small enough.”
“So, Soros, Gates, Trump, Buffet, Zuck, Rothschild, etc. are just very weak and insecure human beings?” The peddler queried.
“Simians.” The wicked fool said. “Insecure simians. To be human one must be more than just another hominid. Human beings need to have missions. It’s part of the definition.”
“YOUR definition. The peddler said.
“Yes. My definition.” The wicked fool said. “But I digress. Due to their astonishing weakness, these super-predators, you mentioned, and others like them, feel the need for large quantities of death symbols – dollars, Euros, Au, yachts, etc., around themselves. It makes them feel safer . . . probably from us. The more insecure a man feels, the more he feels he needs caedere wealth. For some reason, people who fear death also worship death, and they feel the need to bury themselves in death symbols. Clintons, Bushes, Obama, Trump, Gates, and many other bloodthirsty genocidal killers, with all the money they will ever need to live well, given the opportunity, can’t stop killing innocents, be they animals, men, women, or children. Caedere wealth empowers the predation and enslaves it.”
“It’s sick. I’ll admit it.” The peddler said. “But, you’ll not convince many people of the veracity of your concept.”
“If it were otherwise I, personally, would be devastated.” The wicked fool said. “I would think I must have said something stupid, and I might need to change my stand quickly.”
“Misanthropist!”
“Do you think so?” The wicked fool asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t.” The wicked fool said. “If I were misanthropic, I would be ambivalent about the future of Mankind, uncaring about the certain demise of Homo sapiens sapiens. Contrary to religious dogma and the justification for Written Law, people do not choose to do negative things because they are depraved. Whatever they do, they do because Entropy orders it. Disorder demands, and weakness controls us.”
“Isn’t that an oxymoron . . .disorder demands . . .controls?” The peddler asked.
“Another paradox.” The wicked fool said. “Entropy and Nature are the final arbiters as to whether our directed & obligatory actions result in a positive or a negative for protoplasm. They battle it out, and Entropy uses our passion to dispassionate ends.”
“So, at best, we are never more than the plaything of thermodynamics, the prey of Entropy?” The peddler said.
“Yes. We all wander in the dark.” The wicked fool said. “Sometimes we bump into things and get hurt. We are all injured and suffering desperately. Life is usually Hell, and we creatures do the best we can to make it less so. Under such pressure, though, we often make mistakes. That does not make us morally evil, any more than biological strength makes us saints.”
“You’re not saying we shouldn’t judge.” The peddler said. “You’re saying we can’t judge?”
“I’m saying both.” The wicked fool answered. “We shouldn’t yearn to judge, because we can’t. It’s futile, illegitimate, a usurpation, and negative. No way exists for us to effectively judge anyone in the human condition. We do not have the capability. Our futile attempts to do so do no more than increase pain and suffering. What we can do is direct the attention of others to observable weaknesses in the alleged miscreants and take proximity-survival precautions.”
“Those precautions are how we can order our society?” The peddler asked.
“Yes. But, unlike how it is done today, sanctifying predation and punishment. We must conform to Natural principles.” The wicked fool said. “Parasitism occurs in all species. It’s a response to some inherent biological weakness. The parasitic organism cannot survive on its own, and it seeks its sustenance from other life forms. Nature allows it. But, She just blesses inter-species predation, not intra-species. Only our species engages in intra-species parasitism as a perverted strategy for survival, and it’s to the host’s detriment, as is all parasitism.”
“A disease?”
“Sort of.” The wicked fool said. “Predators represent an auto-immune disease afflicting humanity, and like asthma, lupus, multiple sclerosis, or glomerulonephritis, it can kill us. If a human parasite, a super-predator, is found, it must be apprehended. It should forswear forever death-worship and obscene unlimited pursuit of caedere wealth.”
“You’re talking re-education.” The peddler mocked. “Are you a commie?”
“Rehabilitation.” The wicked fool said.
“Impossible to implement. Sounds like Mao’s re-education cadres’ practices, to me.” The peddler argued. “Semantics! Like calling someone crazy.”
The wicked fool countered. “It’s so defeating to see how language divides humanity and prevents concerted positive action. Mao was an acolyte to what I’m proposing. He wanted to destroy free-enterprise, pushing his brand of Capital-communism. I’m supposing strategies that may save the human race from extinction! Hundreds of times more difficult to do. The predator must be given every chance to reform its behavior.”
“And if it cannot?” The peddler asked.
If, on the basis of overwhelming evidence, the parasite demonstrates that it can never become strong enough to be a custodian . . .” The wicked fool said.
“And how will it do that?” The peddler interrupted.
“If a predator cannot demonstrate a renouncing of driven caedere pursuit forever . . .” The wicked fool said
“And, if it cannot or will not abstain?” The peddler asked.
“Then the community must separate the predator from its behavior.” The wicked fool answered. “They must euthanize it. Nature will send it’s spirit back to from whence it came.”
“That’s not self-defense.” The peddler argued.
“Oh, yes, it is. It most definitely is!” The wicked fool said.
“It’s judgement and punishment.” The peddler said.
“It is self-defense.” The wicked fool countered. “Those alternatives, you just mentioned, are unacceptable to a civilized people.”
“Most would consider taking a human life, like that, would not be self-defense but criminal capital punishment.” The peddler said.
“The problem comes in defining self-defense.” The wicked fool said. “Where to draw the line is the issue. The current definition of intelligence is incorrect. Any definition of intelligence that does not take into account biosustainability is in error. Everything we, as a species, have achieved technologically has been achieved within the last 3000 years of our 50, 000 (+/-) year existence. “Intelligent” extra-terrestrial species have probably all gained technological superiority on their own planets. They perhaps have come to the same state of evolution as we have. They got so powerful, while arrogating something similar to our demented “moral” limits, that they too forgot their “purpose”. They could very possibly have destroyed their respective planets’ biosphere, as we are intent upon doing to ours. End of their story, end of ours.”
“You’re forgetting the usual corollary to the problem.” The peddler asked.
“What?”
“The apprehendee has or may control much caedere wealth, and the applicable apprehendors will want to have some of it.” The peddler said. “Offers by your parasites to share minuscule amounts with their apprehendors will invariably result in impunity for the parasites. It’s one of the reasons you gave for why Written Law is anathema. I offer today’s legal system as ample proof. I’ll show you how many poor people are in prison for capital offenses. Then, you show me how many top bankers, politicians, or sports figures are rotting in prison for their similar capital offenses.”
“There are some.” The wicked fool said.
“Only those that also pissed-off the super power structure in some way, so that the fraternity of infinitely vast caedere wealth, uncharacteristically, wished to act on the side of the Law.” The peddler countered.
“I am aware of many of the problems there will be in achieving my new civilization.” The wicked fool said. “What you just said about the impunity of the caedere rich makes me think about another serious problem that we may face if the status quo continues much longer.”
“What is that?” The peddler asked.
“The impunity of the caedere rich allows them to live much more comfortably than the uncomfortable poor.” The wicked fool said. “There is little disagreement about that. The amount of caedere wealth that the super-predators possess is effectively infinite. The poor pay for the luxury of the rich. The rich need not even touch their principal, so to speak. Just their interest suffices to rob and murder the poor. The super-predators enjoy the stolen fruits of predation, experiencing neither sanction nor castigation. Complaint is quickly stifled. They need not pay tribute as taxes to the state, either, as the poor do. In the near future, the caedere rich most certainly will be taking stem cells from poor men’s babies in the interest of extending lifespans of the caedere rich. Over time such behavior will result in hundreds if not thousands of extra years for the rich, billions less for the poor, and a humanity that loses its biological will to continue.”
“We will need to keep trying to make our society better.” The peddler said.
“Perhaps. If we only knew what was “better”.” The wicked fool corrected. “We most definitely will need to fight the caedere rich and keep trying to make our species stronger. But, if we do not discover a way to limit our population, while still currying sufficient growth to not expire, our new-found strength will serve no purpose.”
“So. Gyorgy Schwartz should be apprehended, not judged?” The peddler queried, returning to an earlier point in the conversation.
“Yes.”
“Can’t punish him. He’s too old to expect rehabilitation and can’t be trusted to forswear predation, so . . .?” The peddler queried.
“For what he is, Mr. Soros appears to be marching perfectly in step with his nature.” The wicked fool said.
“I hear what you are saying.” The peddler said. “There is no mechanism on hand to apprehend and “rehabilitate” him.”
“There is not, yet.” The wicked fool agreed, and continued. “We are not the first species to face this problem. As I see it, after the big explosion, Entropy brought a world into existence. Civilizations evolved. At least, two of those civilizations, undoubtedly, found themselves with enemies, so they developed some science and were soon capable of creating simulations. We, doubtless, also arrived as a product of evolution, extra-terrestrial impregnation, or as a simulation downstream of those earlier civilizations. The possible simulation that brought us here was by design, or as a program that went wrong, got corrupted, or became neglected into the present dystopia. It is all just conjecture at this point. People know, instinctively, that they are here to suffer at the whim of some programmer, even if it is only Nature’s deoxyribonucleic acid. Like caged rats, fouling their water or cages, unwittingly trying to commit suicide, so are the simians. Most simians also try to commit covert suicide, inventing creative ways of avoiding the actual blatant act, since easy suicide has been programmed constitutively out of most animals. Doctors assist and predatorily play into the hands the programmers, assisting with the torture, but disallowing an easy death. I cannot see myself any better. I am also a sycophant of the demented programmer(s).”
“Why?”
Chapter Ten
“Notwithstanding the less-than-viable chances for doing so, with my increasing blindness, I’m trying to save creation, knowing that I will be prolonging suffering.” The wicked fool said. “In my defense, I hope to play God and assist others in the removal of many tormented before they experience more suffering or cause more suffering. I will also try to alleviate suffering for the unremoved others without the typical medical and legal predation. I will never give up trying to erect the Great Pontibus Bridges. Without these extenuating circumstances, however, I cannot say I am any less deserving of euthanasia than a predatory doctor, lawyer, pol, or banker.”
“Many would say infinitely more, either way.” The peddler added.
“I’m sure most would.” The wicked fool said. “But that is a side issue. On your selling trips, I know you’ve seen chickens and pigs on the local farms. When they find a piece of possible food that is too big to swallow quickly, they scream and run. That gets the attention of all the other animals. The foodless many see what has occurred and chase the greedy yeller. Mark Zuck, Bill Gates, George Soros, etc. are just like those yelling barnyard animals. Look at Gates, Zuck, and Soros. All are clear evidence of savage heredity that went wrong, pure unmitigated purposeless barnyard greed. As they are not human, they haven’t any human idea of what is happening to them. They are just so insecure and weak, all they can do is incessantly misappropriate and yell about their ill-gotten gains to the world, to the amusement of the demented programmers, I’m sure. We all serve but as toys & slaves, vicarious entities, meant to suffer for the programmer’s amusement or to satisfy its vengeance. Maybe, we offended somehow and are doing a punishment sentence. Perhaps, we serve as small animals like those that parents buy on holidays for their children, so that the kids can torture them to death. Either the programmer does not know or care about the suffering its work is causing; or it is as demented as a sadistic kosher rabbi that wants only to suck babies’ penises, punish, and torture weaker creatures. Either way, we too punish, futilely. We punish out of impotent fear of predation, or separation from Earth, or our disappearing, or because we want to emulate our demented programming creators. Most predators do not turn to preying on their own species only after becoming debauched. It does happen, but usually it comes about as a result of a biological perversion. The majority of predators become that way out of a need for social acceptance and acclaim. Their appearances on media spots stands as testimony of that. They are forever seeking exaltation, worship, and emulation. They know that, for the average human being, caedere wealth possession is easily confused with intelligence, divine luck, and human worth. The predator knows that an inordinate amount of caedere wealth symbols will surely gain for them the value estimation, human love, and security that they crave.“
“They want the love and admiration of the very people upon whom they prey!?” The peddler asked.
“Am I wrong?” The wicked fool asked.
“No.”
“The human predator reaches a point, analogous to narcotic tolerance, when the desire for caedere wealth as a means to gain status, love & security becomes pursuit for pursuit’s sake. The means becomes the end, and the end becomes the means. Caedere weaklings develop a tolerance for money as much as any junkie develops a tolerance for his or her own drug of choice. When this happens, the personality disappears. The person no longer owns caedere wealth, because the owner is no longer human. Despite the façade, like some special kind of mummy, the human “essence” has died or gone into suspended animation.” The wicked fool explained.
“Caedere wealth, or de facto possession of it, supplants the essence or human spirit?” The peddler asked.
“I believe it is something like that.” The wicked fool said. “An abyss opens in the money junkie, where the human mission used to be, and caedere wealth, like formaldehyde and other mummification embalming materials, enters that vacuum. Caedere wealth now owns the predator. A man of ends becomes a man of means. Dead things and their symbols usurp the human essence’s former position, or an attempt is made to do so, as the human essence disappears. Parasitism for parasitism’s sake becomes a reality, and the person in effect changes species. Being a parasite on humans is essentially a degeneration, a mental derangement, a de-evolution. Psychologists call it psychopathy. The predator becomes, in all practical respects, a lower form of mammal – such as a wild pig – with all the volition that exists in a blood-sucking tick or leech. Entropy mandates it 100%.“
“They can’t help themselves?” The peddler asked.
“Oh, they can, and they do, helping themselves to whatever they want. Super-predators pursue caedere wealth with great enthusiasm. They are forever wallowing in the figurative mud, dreaming of being human once more. That enthusiasm usually works to gain them all the indications of that for which they crave, but none of the reality.” The wicked fool said. “They become as much glorified sacks of meat as are genetic misfits.”
“I meant . . .”
“I know what you meant . . You meant that they can’t control themselves. Helping themselves to everyone else’s share too is not generally considered control.” The wicked fool said.
“If rehabilitated, they could undoubtedly perform near miracles for custodianship.” The peddler said.
“They could.” The wicked fool said. “Custodians in charge of rehabilitating predators must show the predator that it need not suffer for its contemplated change in focus. Predators must see how they can achieve the admiration they desire via the biosustainable path, just as they received it while pursuing the parasitic path. They must see that the biosustainable path will allow them to regain their lost essence, unlike tolerating the callous indifference to it that they enjoyed during their caedere addiction’s latter stages. Unfortunately, locating and re-inserting a lost human essence into a wild pig is not an easy task.”
“It gives a whole new interpretation to the “silk purse out of a sow’s ear” maxim.” The peddler added with a cynical laugh.
“We exist in an open system.” The wicked fool said, when the peddler stopped laughing. “But, due to our inability to leave the planet easily we exist in a de facto closed system, a huge Entropy Ocean. The stochastic nature of that closed existence imprisons us. Although it always inevitably drags each of us down into a decentralized condition of ever more chaos and disorder, a perfect democracy, our birth rate establishes a thin patina of order over that Entropy Sea. As the planet gets warmer, the Entropy Sea, on which we float, becomes increasingly turbulent. It cannot keep going like this much longer without an eventual explosion. Come what may, Entropy dictates our every move.”
“On a more “Entropy-is-God” mystical level, can we ever rise above it?” The peddler asked.
“We can rise above it.” The wicked fool responded.
“We can “dare the soul’s dominion”, Amelia Earhardt?” The peddler asked.
“Yes, by accepting a mission and becoming truly human.” The wicked fool answered.
“Dreaming?”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Most life begins well enough, but it usually ends badly and always tragically. Why not accept a life of aspiration? What does a missionless life, dictated only by Entropy, have to offer us but a set of serial debasements?”
“Survival?”
“That’s all you want, the mundane life of a squirrel or a rabbit?” The wicked fool asked.
“Any life beats the alternative.” The peddler said.
“I disagree. We are capable of more.” The wicked fool said. “Missionless simian and missioned human life begins similarly. We are both thrust into the semblance of a freezing cold world through the most over-rated aperture in the history of man, an orifice smelling of rotten fish. Life culminates in the ultimate abasement of having to endure a putrefaction hidden from the entire world. It, supposedly, doesn’t really end even there! If you are of the Christian, Judaic or Islamic faith, you still have to do your zombiehood, i.e. flying around a dishonorable, unjust, sadistic, cannibalistic, immensely jealous, control freak – FOREVER. You must genuflect every second, as a living non-zombie, to that insane, amoral imaginary fiend, or wait expectantly for sentencing to enjoy an eternal burning in zombie hell. Without a mission, even a dog has better prospects.”
“The only way we can rise above Entropy’s role for us, for a time, is with an aspiration?” The peddler asked.
“Yes. I believe we must indeed challenge the province of our essence.” The wicked fool said.
“Do you have an example?” The peddler asked.
“Yes. As the story goes, Abraham, a closet demented cannibal, was a pet of the fiend, Jehovah – Allah. Jesus and Mahomet were supposedly sycophants of Abraham’s owner – the Devil’s understudy – Jehovah-Allah. Zombie Jesus is alleged to also have been Jehovah’s bastard son. The Mary duo were Jehovah’s whores. From such weaknesses, purportedly admirable strengths emerged. Ensconced in other aspects of these paragons of legendary salacious humanity was something special.”
“Their human weaknesses found counterbalance in missions?” The peddler guessed.
“Yes. Jesus, apparently, made it his mission to create a system that turned the world into a more just and gentle abode than it was previously. He raised animal lust to the “love” category and reduced sex crimes to misdemeanors.” The wicked fool said.
“It took modern Christians two millennia to completely reverse the trend he started.” The peddler said.
“Isn’t that true?” The wicked fool said. “Mahomet made an equally significant change by choosing as his mission the destruction of Christians and Jews. He, fortunately, diminished some of the pest that was ultimately to become a Christian plague. Unfortunately, his followers lost sight of his mission. They allowed Entropy to assist them in substituting their own brand of mystic statist hell.”
“You are, obviously, not a fan of Sharia Law?” The peddler asked.
“I am not an aficionado of ANY Law.” The wicked fool said. “I accept Natural Law. With Entropy, it is always consistent, never makes contradictory exceptions. I have no choice but to accept it.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” The peddler said.
“Abraham’s other descendants, also largely Jews & Muslim-Arabs, had no concept of mission.” The wicked fool said. “They made a few shekels, biding their time, capturing and distributing slaves. These sailing Semites gave the world cheap labor, and more.”
“What is more?” The peddler asked.
“Virtually all black indigenous Africans have an intelligence of one or two standard deviations lower than non-Africans. If one presupposes that intelligence assists a simian in a quest for a mission, those missionless Semites may accidentally have been responsible for a more generalized human DNA complement within the genus Homo. For their humanity, gained via the miscegenation due to the advent of that slavery, most negroes in the West today can thank those salient Semites.” The wicked fool said.
““The shadow’d livery of the burnish’d sun.” Shakespeare,” The peddler quoted.
“Inside those black slaves’ “shadowed liveries” went Neanderthal’ genes, worming some of their descendants into being humans – Homo sapiens sapiens.” The wicked fool said.
“The world is not a kinder and more biosustainable place because of Abraham.” The peddler observed.
“No. That schizophrenic buzzard had no mission.” The wicked fool said. “His time was spent talking to, and obeying, his imaginary cannibal friend in the sky. Time will tell how much more negative change these death-worshippers, without purpose, bring us through their astounding weaknesses. Largely due to the current worship of their obscene religious book, “Holy Bible”, and the malevolent prophecies or actual pre-histories contained therein, a thermonuclear war is on our horizon.”
“But, they are not evil people, just weak.” The peddler mocked.
“You “sit in the seat of scoffers” and scorn, I can tell. But, weaknesses are the root cause of human predation, whimsically referred to by some as “crime”.” The wicked fool said.
“What do YOU think crime is?” The peddler asked.
“Crime can be practically defined as behavior or a set of behaviors not appreciated ostensibly in a positive way by the general population.” The wicked fool said. “The word “crime” is chosen, unfortunately therefore, to describe human predation as well as human crypto-magnanimity. As such, it is an oxymoron. Real morons seek to punish its practitioners. Great scientists and some writers are often considered criminals. Doctors, lawyers, politicians, bankers, priests, wardens, compassion-vultures, thugs, etc. are all human predators, but they are not usually considered criminals, except by me.”
“What is a compassion vulture?” The peddler asked.
“A compassion vulture is living simian carrion and simian-types that feed on biological misfits.” The wicked fool said. “The beast draws its sustenance also by sucking the blood of people who cannot control their sense of guilt and those who pity biological misfits uncontrollably. They usually can be found in the guise of the freaks’ caretakers.”
“I see. Doctors and nurses.” The peddler said.
“Among many other unmentioned predators.” The wicked fool said.
“Compassionate people.” The peddler jibed.
“Misplaced compassion & perverted love.” The wicked fool answered. “But, your scorn is showing.”
“You could tell?” The peddler said.
“Yes. It wasn’t a trying feat.” The wicked fool responded, and continued. “As I was saying, all accomplished originators, i.e. inventors, copyrighters & scientists, are bigots and criminals but not necessarily predators, nor are they designated by the hoi polloi as miscreants. To have excelled in their chosen discipline most great scientists must be missioned, having swum upstream while everyone else was going with the flow, downstream. That makes scientists criminal – not predatory. A few criminals are indeed true human predators, and they are not always rewarded by society in the same manner as are most predators and/or the inventor-scientist criminal ilk. What the “great unwashed” do so lovingly term “criminal behavior” is invariably just a manifestation of relatively greater weakness or more variegated behavior than that which they attribute to themselves.”
“Or behavior for which they haven’t yet been accused.” The peddler postulated.
“I’m sure.” The wicked fool agreed, smiling. “But, let me tell you a story. Long ago, I knew an alcoholic pilot that did some prison time. He was intelligent, an environmentalist like us, and a well-informed guy. Once, while he was drunk, he made a hard-landing, maiming his passenger during the course of the plane’s finally coming to rest. The passenger was his only child. My acquaintance was prosecuted, and he received a long sentence. He ultimately lost everything, his pilot’s license, his plane, his money, his home, his family, and his general well-being. His alcoholism never stopped. The material losses were bearable to him. What he could not live with was what he had done to his child. He said it was an eternal nightmare from which there was no awakening. It was something with which he could not live. Suicide appeared the only way to lessen his pain. Before he killed himself, he asked me to write a letter to God for him. He said his trembling hand was too unsteady. But it was more than that. He rambled a lot, was often incoherent, and didn’t hold a steady train of thought. He knew the letter would be unintelligible, if he wrote it, and he wanted it to be readable and buried with him. So, I put his thoughts down on my computer. Later, I edited and rewrote it, arranging his thoughts grammatically correct for God. That left me a copy. When he read it, he told me it was just what he wanted to say. Would you like to read it?”
“I don’t read English well.” The peddler said.
“That’s no problem.” The wicked fool said. “I’ll get it and read it to you.”
“Okay.”
The wicked fool left for a few moments and went to his pousada. He printed the letter and returned quickly, saying. “This is the letter he took to eternity with him.” (And he began to read it.)
Dear God:
If this letter finds its way to you, it means that you exist. It could have answered a big question in my mind, but it means nothing to me now. Whatever. Although your Creation is far too beautiful to describe, its magnificence is gravely flawed, and I think you should know it. It appears that you are not aware of the situation. You never made it seem that there is any purpose for us here. I, therefore, just had to assume that you created all this wonderful universe and you liked it and wanted it protected. If I assumed wrong, and you cared little or wished us to destroy Creation, something went terribly wrong. I presumed my function was to protect, so I tried to do that, and I served the world in which I lived. I ultimately discovered that you seemed only to reward the destroyers of your Creation.
What is also so very hard to understand is why you made us all defective. Every one of us has some special monkey on our individual backs, detracting from the full-force of any positive purpose. It’s a mystery to me why you did that. What is especially odious is that we have the capacity to lie to ourselves when the pressure for depraved conduct becomes very strong, more than we can bear, making it impossible to resist. We can actually justify and thereby convince ourselves of the rectitude of our prohibited behavior. Of course, immediately subsequent to our misdeeds the foundations of our unjustifiable prevarications dissolve and crumble away. We are lost. Society holds uncontrollable natural inclinations as depravities and taboo weaknesses. Our neighbors consequently take revenge upon us for these transgressions in addition to the revenge we take upon ourselves. We never cease punishing ourselves for our mistakes and our inability to control personal weakness. Incredible & relentless mental, physical, and spiritual pain never diminishes, either by day or night. You obviously cannot know the burden of desperation one must bear, just to survive, for you. As our Creator, you are ultimately responsible for our mistakes and misery. Making us feel responsible for your actions or incompetence is also on your account, and it is malevolent!
I do not understand. Are you a monstrous fiend!? Did you make us with these near infallible built-in weaknesses to watch us squirm and writhe in pain from them? Controlling that monkey seems possible for some but nearly impossible for others, adding to the pain of the weaker and more susceptible. It certainly would seem to be a great impediment to any positive goals you might have, or at least a great inefficiency. Am I wrong? I think not. I believe the only reason for installing such weakness in us is demented heartlessness? You are a psychotic sadistic bastard, and you find pleasure in making us suffer incredibly from frustration, fear, regrets, hopelessness, and punishment? You enjoy watching our throbbing agony, as we struggle and thrash about? Why?! Have you ever asked yourself that question? You should, and perhaps, for the betterment of all, you might seriously consider suicide.”
The wicked fool stopped reading and laid the letter on the table, saying nothing. After a few seconds he looked over at the peddler, making eye contact. The body language had its effect, and the peddler became uncomfortable enough to speak, albeit on an unrelated topic.
“Weakness makes people predatory?” The peddler asked, as if the letter had no effect on him.

“Yes. But before I go into that I want to address some of the reasons, I think exist, for your telling choice of words and your obvious negative opinions and scorn.” The wicked fool said.

“Ahh. You said you noticed.” The peddler derided. “I plead guilty.”

The wicked fool replied. “You are of the opinion, like many simians, that compassion is a sentiment in which a proper civilized person should indulge completely whenever it is felt.”

“That’s right. Any sentient being should feel similarly.” The peddler said, self-righteously.

“I disagree.” The wicked fool said. “It’s largely a willfully blind attitude, and an attitude usually held by ignorant and cowardly people.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” The peddler asked.

“No.” The wicked fool said. “I don’t give a damn if you remain or leave.”

Chapter Eleven

The atmosphere around the small table became instantly colder and stayed that way for a few seconds. Neither man wanted to say anything. Neither knew how to respond to the awkward situation. Finally, the peddler could take the silence no longer and said. “Feeling compassion is ignorant and cowardly?!”

“Usually, the sentiment is held by such willfully blind people.” The wicked fool said. “People are willfully blind because they are cowards, too fearful to confront reality head-on.

“You are indeed trying to get me to leave!?” The peddler accused and arose.

“I was trying to teach you something.” The wicked fool said. “You seemed not to like my choice of words.”

“I didn’t like your ideas.” The peddler said. “The words you chose were just embellishment.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or waste your energy, as you were doing to me.” The wicked fool said. “Remember, however, I didn’t leave because of your choice of words, as unpleasant as some were. Perhaps because you are buying the beer. But, if you feel parsimonious, it’s okay. Leave.”

The peddler, despite his anger, did not leave. He sat back down before his beer and smoldered, silently, as the wicked fool continued. “I find the state of mind & opinion or attitude that you manifest particularly odious when it is held by educated people. Fortunately, that doesn’t apply in this case.”
The peddler didn’t respond, vocally, to the repetitive insults, but the wicked fool waited for a few seconds before continuing. “Working Americans pay upwards of 10 months, annually, of their yearly wages in tribute as taxes to the ZSA. The ZSA uses that money to buy arms from Rothschild and the big bankers to control the entire world. The brutality with which they take people’s civil liberties away is nothing short of miraculous, it is so horrendous. They set up political puppets and dictators and tear them down whenever these harlequins either please little or don’t at all please the bankers. Rothschild’s pols impose curfews and spew out lying propaganda. If you don’t accept the tyranny and slavery, the pols send death squads after you and torture you and your family. People suffer and die of disease and starvation or just disappear. Surveillance is 24 hours and occurs virtually everywhere. They attack resistance with drones and small missiles that kill, burn and maim innocent men, women and children. They bombard with aircraft, artillery and mortars. Mindless soldiers, automatons with small arms, massacre and cause genocides. American atrocities learned of at home by Americans are forgotten by Americans before the next TV show. Every April 15th more funding arrives to put thousands more innocent people in detention and intimidate entire populations. The world’s greatest terrorist countries in the world, ZSA and Israel, incessantly rob and kill with their wars and proxy wars. What possible danger do innocent children and women present to the Jews and their apologists in Washington? They don’t. These fiends torture, burn, and kill for caedere greed, nothing else. The reality of how much the citizens of the ZSA are responsible for these criminals in Washington and Israel never seems to make an impression on the citizens of ZSA. There is some indication that a few people are waking up there, however, and that has not gone unnoticed by the super-predators. The fiends have tightened the screws on censorship to the point where truth is virtually as scarce as Life at absolute zero.”
“One day, the citizens of the ZSA will pay for their willful ignorance.” The peddler said.
“I’m sure.” The wicked fool said. “American taxpayers are complicit in murdering citizens of countries around the world every day, as ZSA thugs steal public assets. If anyone speaks out, exposing such crimes, Google, Facebook and Yahoo punish and censor them. When the world learns how the ZSA taxpayers are supporting these caedere thugs, and the world also acquires the will to seek vengeance, there will be hell to pay. The world will unite against the ZSA and Israel as it did against Germany. And as it did in Germany, the world will not discriminate between pols, bankers and citizens, as all are equally guilty as accessories to crimes against humanity. Maybe, when the ZSA and Israel are no more, Rothschild’s arms and war material will no longer burn and mutilate innocent people every year, but I doubt it. As we learned at Nuremberg, the super-predators escape censure. The alliance of the caedere strong grows ever stronger. As it has for centuries, it continues growing incrementally ever more controlling against the caedere weak. There isn’t much time. The caedere rich plan on eventually killing all simians indiscriminately, humans included. For decades Monsanto and cohorts have been willfully and wantonly poisoning our food and water. All over the world sperm counts are dropping. Fluoride and PCBs are in our water and air everywhere. Monsanto will soon have a monopoly on virtually all food. Where do you think this is all leading?”
“It doesn’t look good, but I don’t think the American people even know the atrocities they commit are done on Rothschild’s orders.” The peddler said, sullenly.

“They know, or SHOULD know!” The wicked fool answered. “The killing and torture of innocents, without regard to human status, goes on non-stop.

“Oh. That’s real practical.” The peddler said. “Now, before deployment or enemy engagement, combatants must select for enemies only those without mission-possession as possible targets!?”
“Have you a better idea that minimizes collateral killing?” The wicked fool said. “Most wars are started by women and old men, prosecuted by young men for pleasure, financed by the Khazars, and paid for by children. In return for creature comfort crumbs, the entire ZSA citizenry help the bankers, pols and mercenaries stuff their pockets with looted gold and caedere wealth. These compassionate ZSA slaves have the luxury to feel unlimited kindheartedness for a hopeless suffering genetic freak that could have been disposed of, without pain, at birth. That is just the first aspect of the compassion travesty. But, then, they have absolutely no sentiment at all for the hundreds of thousands of murdered children that might have one-day become normal humans. They starve, burn, and blow these children to pieces with their genuflection, taxes, and belief in mob democracy. It is absolutely unconscionable! English Common Law says an accessory is just as guilty as a crime’s principals. There is common purpose in United States’ government’s aggression – mens rea, actus reus. They all know the problem, and the situation. They share in its benefits and pay tribute (taxes) to the principal perpetrator. They are all accessories before and after the fact, guilty of war crimes in Iraq, Libya, Syria, Yemen, Afghanistan, Sudan, Somalia, etc., etc. No amount of tut-tutting, finger-pointing, and pious over-wrought wrist-wringing on the video screen will wash that blood off their hands. Paying taxes to a terrorist country is a crime against humanity. The ZSA is a nation of war criminals, every single citizen! The most basic of Nature’s rules, “a species allows its misfits to die and does all it can to nurture its healthy offspring”, they break every day. The attitude, you obviously support, is an attitude held only by ignorant, shallow, non-sentient, enslaved, pusillanimous bullies! I find it repugnant.”
“You find me repugnant?” The peddler asked.

“If you can continue to maintain your ill-informed opinion, trying to defend the indefensible, faced with what you now know, I do.” The wicked fool said. “Furthermore, if you continue to hold that opinion, you are too stupid and weak for me to waste my energy on, and I will wish you to leave me in peace. I prefer the company of ignorant simians that think I’m a wicked fool.”

It may have been all pretense but the peddler seemed genuinely penitent and asked. “What do you say to my remaining here, if I keep my “displays of stupidity & weakness” under more stringent control?”

“No more derisive words, or snide remarks, when I am explaining things?” The wicked fool asked.

“Not even one.” The peddler said.

“I don’t know.” The wicked fool said. “I really hate to waste my time with stupid simians.”

“I understand.” The peddler said. “If what I suggested does not satisfy you, I’ll leave. I do not wish to be continually insulted either.”

The peddler delayed his departure, and the wicked fool sat silent for a moment, before saying. “It’s all right. You can stay. I’ll take another chance on you. Where were we?”

“Weakness.”

“Oh yes.” The wicked fool said. “Weakness. You were inquiring as to the relationship between weakness and predation. Weakness evolved in Nature as a magnet to predation, or visa versa, both for predator and prey. They are drawn together for the same purpose, exploitation. The weakling gains oblivion and/or freedom from preoccupation, pursuit, pain or punishment. The predator gains a meal, money, or more. Exploiting weakness is always good practice for predators.”

“It’s obviously easier to rob a blind old woman or a falling-down drunk than a sober armed healthy young man.” The peddler added.

“True.” The wicked fool said. “In every life form, predators arrive to cut out, bleed, and kill the weakest members of a herd. Under Nature’s auspices the predatory aspect of an ecological system is crucial to a balanced biome. There are limits, of course. For example, Bears, robber bees, yellow jackets, mites, a pesticide-wielding farmer, etc. can rapidly kill a healthy apiary and an entire ecosystem will die.”

“Apparently, Entropy outdoes itself sometimes.” The peddler said.

The wicked fool did not respond to the comment but continued. “Intra-species predation is another matter altogether. Except for the eugenic aspects, I do not think it is ever a healthy feature in an ecosystem. Caedere wealth is also a predator, in and of itself, without an attached entity. The ideal of caedere wealth accumulation exists as a quasi-religion and is an indirect factor in bloating and weakening the human race. As in any auto-immune disease, one day that unnatural distention must cease. When the burst happens, the resulting exposure of weakness will not have esthetic aspects. When humans enter a natural equation, suspend their humanity, and become predators on the human species, the system also begins to change. The changing system can be positive or negative for humanity or protoplasm. It usually depends on the end result, but it is virtually always unhealthy.”

“How is that?” The peddler asked.

“I’ll give you an example.” The wicked fool said. “Two young simians are injured slightly and have some residual pain. One is a typical subhuman predator, a lawyer. The other is an artist, a missioned human. Both have recently been bereaved and are feeling sad & depressed. Neither does needed life self-examination. They both go to a clinic for help. A medical doctor, (i.e. a subhuman parasite with a state-license to swindle weak people, shill for the banks & drug companies, and sell toxic drugs along with false hope), gives both men a prescription for an opioid pain killer and an antidepressant. Both ultimately go off the antidepressant, but each man becomes addicted to the opioid drug. The two new junkies end up as suicides due to the drugs and their subsequent attempted abstinence. The end result is an over-all positive event for the planet, as its burden is less by over a hundred kilos of simian meat. The lawyer’s death is an additional blessing and, because lawyers are predators, it’s a triple positive change for the planet. The artist’s death is also a tragedy, however, and ends in a negative change for the planet, so a wash.”

“It’s not a wash.” The peddler said. “If my math is correct, that leaves an overall positive change. You contradict yourself, saying predation is virtually always unhealthy?”

“I meant that only the artist’s death resulted in an overall wash for the planet. But, true, it is an overall positive considering the entire example. The exception I inadvertently described, however, with a bit more explanation, only adds to my proof. First, they were both suicides. Most demises from medicine do not result in quick bereavements or suicides but linger over time. Why? Doctors do not wish to kill their patients, because death means an end to exploitation and predation. This exploitation creates a greater burden on the planet than would a quick end like suicide. Second, I took my example out of the greater contextual whole. Doctors & drugs usually present negative changes for planetary Life. Nevertheless, you can still see, even with my bad example how the end determines whether the changed ecosystem benefits or detracts from planetary Life’s continued viability.”

“I still don’t see how.” The peddler said.

“As I’ve just explained, medical doctors, as part of the medical industry, keep people sick and alive when they could be made healthy or dead.” The wicked fool reiterated. “Dead simians are good for the planet. Sick simians are stressors on all Life. You probably can’t see why people want to be sick. I can’t either. But most people, naturally, do not want to live. It’s only to be expected, I guess. Life is a meaningless torment. Prospective sickos, and sickos, do all kinds of things that are sickening and slow suicides. They let themselves get depressed, pursue accumulation of caedere wealth, break natural laws, smoke, work too much, drink too much, use drugs, eat crap, watch TV, vote for predators, go crazy, etc. Their immune system gives in, and they get sick. Doctors are biologists, but they betray their education. They could usually tell the sickos how to get well or die without drugs. They could explain that the sicko’s lifestyle, and what it is doing, is wrong and unhealthy. They could help the sicko to get well or get out, leaving it at that. But no. Doctors exploit the pseudo-suicide, selling them drugs, radiation, unnecessary surgery, and lies, refusing to let the sicko recover or die. Whether they know it, are moved by it, or are just too weak to resist, “standard care” makes of medical doctors home-wreckers and hired killers – assassins for the drug companies.”
“Let them die?!” The peddler asked.
“Yes. Why not?” The wicked fool replied. “If sickos want to get sick and die, why not let them? Existence has no discernable value beyond negative. It’s entirely possible that some monster(s) have put us here for some sadistic purpose, demented pleasure, or punishment. If so, fuck them! Death gives us insensibility for who knows how long? Postponing it for any reason only amplifies the pleasure for the fiend(s). We are only programmed to fear death for some purpose other than our own. The medical industry is keeping us alive longer and sicker than ever before, but the irony also is that doctors are killing us as much as they always have.”
“I see.” The peddler summarized. “You are not fond of lawyers and doctors. But, you feel doctors could do positive things overall by offing their patients.”

“You’re pushing it, and are not assisting much in making me feel I was right in allowing you to converse further with me.” The wicked fool said.

“Really?”

“Yes. But, you are amusing, so I will endeavor to explain how you misread the point of my example.” The wicked fool said.

“Please do. I’ll try to be more decorous.” The peddler said.

“Most of the drugs and surgery that doctors prescribe for their patients make them sick and keep them that way.” The wicked fool said. “This type of predation results in a malaise in society and in all Life. Three out of eight ZSA citizens are addicted to prescription opioids. Americans spend 20% of their income on medical matters, three times what other countries do. Doctors assist in giving Life in general auto-immune diseases. That is what human predators do. That is what human predation is, a planetary auto-immune disease, and it is going to kill us. Most human predation is socially accepted. Human predation has been rationalized so much into our society that we have become blinded to its existence and affects. We even use our language to create words that euphemize the effects of human predation. Also, since we all use caedere money, none of us is entirely free of human predator qualities, and we are all parasitic to some degree. We are also all too weak to be a 100% positive influence for Life & posterity. Some of us are indeed nearly strong enough for the task, but human life is too long, and the human race is implacably cruel. It’s just one more reason why we cannot be effective judges, and one more reason why the Communities of Consensus, CoCs, custodians must deliberate, exercise restraint and use forbearance in their future activities.”

“What are Communities of Consensus, CoCs?” The peddler asked.

“If the biosphere is to survive, Communities of Consensus, CoCs, must arrive to be the planet’s immune system.” The wicked fool said. “These groups of atheistic anarchistic humans will agree on a number of things. One thing they will all agree on, and all their members will agree on, is that their raison d’etre is biosustainability and the eradication of all planetary Life’s auto-immune diseases.”

“And if they cannot agree?” The peddler asked.

“If a member of a CoC cannot agree with the other members, it leaves the group or is ostracized.” The wicked fool said.

“That’s harsh!” The peddler said.

Chapter Twelve

“That’s natural law.” The wicked fool replied. “The human race, if it is to survive, must wake up. We need to awaken to the fact that the ruling class is rapidly taking our humanity from us in a number of ways. There can be no human community where there is no freedom. The fate of the human race is the fate of the caedere poor. We must awaken to the knowledge that the caedere definition of wealth is wrecking the planet, killing hope of continuing evolution and ourselves with it. We are obliged to change that definition of wealth from one with a symbol of death to one with a living symbol, such as wealth animans.”

“What good will that do?” The peddler asked.

“When this happens, it will initiate a revulsion for caedere wealth, death worshippers, and those who struggle to acquire great caedere wealth through predation. If intelligence is a lethal genotype, one of its lethal manifestations may be in a death-worshipping phenotype. CoCs, new-way inclined people, will seek to live healthy lifestyles, retain their humanity, and find ways to maintain themselves as planetary custodians. They will form communities of like-minded people that seek to rejuvenate the planet, moving all over the globe, destroying purveyors of death. They will be the planet’s protectors. The pursuit of truth, excellence, and biosustainability will be the most significant characteristics of these groups. They will be unstoppable, unconquerable, strong, free and have indomitable faith in themselves and their mission.”

The wicked fool looked straight at the peddler and continued. “Initially, these Communities of Consensus, CoCs, will be bands of guerillas. They will consist of educated men and women unafraid of using violence as a tool to remove predators. They will face the consequences, undaunted, should they be apprehended in their quests. CoCs will seek out, rehabilitate or remove, all those who derive “legal” authority to privileged predatory existence from the illegitimate State. These privileged-predator-few are sanctioned bankers, lawyers, judges, compassion-vultures, priests, politicians, medical doctors, prison guards, thugs, etc.”

“No slack?” The peddler asked. “Not even for the people’s choice?”

“None!” The wicked fool said. “Professional politicians, the polery, are more than simple predators. Polery is a mental deficiency disease, often engendered from a deprived childhood. Like other pathetic predatory criminals – lawyers, most cops, and all mission-less convicts, pols are sick simians. Most come from dysfunctional families.”

“So, you approve of marriage?” The peddler asked.

“Marriage, no. Families, yes.” The wicked fool answered and continued his explanation. “After a period of due diligence, and much deliberation, the CoCs will seek out, rehabilitate, or remove all predators and genetic misfits that are being subsidized with human blood. The CoCs will start by aspiring to remove the most egregious offenders of biosustainability, the dynastic bankers and the minions of the State, the pols.”

“What happens during the due diligence period?” The peddler asked.

“CoC custodians will investigate the facts of the alleged predator’s past behavior. When there is a consensus among the guerrillas as to the facts, the period of due diligence will end.” The wicked fool explained.

“Then what happens?” The peddler asked.

“The custodians will apprehend the alleged parasite.” The wicked fool said. “They will question it, and if the individual should prove to be a bona fide predator, the custodians will ask the miscreant to reform its behavior. Whether or not the predator manifests or does not manifest a desire to reform, the CoCs will explain the parasite’s situation vis a vis the CoC’s position. If the predator refuses to reform, seeks to mislead, or recidivates, the CoCs will euthanize the predator.”

“The peddler said. “Terminate.”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “If it promises to reform, the CoCs may release it. If it proves too weak to change or it retaliates, the custodians will not again explain. They clearly can’t explain ad infinitum because the CoCs are de facto fugitives from the ZWO. A predator must be given every chance to admit Entropy’s capacity to help, but logistics also mandate that the CoCs do not spend inordinate amounts of time on an individual’s rehabilitation. Science has not yet found a technological way to remove predatory behavior, or predation-proclivity, from the parasitic-prone simian. Custodians may, if they choose, express their empathy and manifest regret as to the CoC’s unfortunate rehabilitation-engendering impotence. Immediately after, the CoC will euthanize the predator.”

“You are serious?” The peddler asked.
“Completely.” The wicked fool said. “CoCs cannot sit in judgement, but toying with aspects of the free-will illusion is futile, and humanity must survive. CoCs cannot assist if they are sick and getting sicker by the micro-second. CoCs need to learn to recognize the people that make their living from predation, so that they do not become their victims. Predators and people that fall victim to predation do so because of inadequate education and vigilance. Those informed in biology, literature, philosophy and techniques of problem resolution, etc. usually fare better, when confronting predation, than do the uninformed.”
“State schools do not prepare citizens for life.” The peddler said. “Very few students study such subjects.”
“That’s true.” The wicked fool said. “They prepare students for the exact opposite.”
“I can only agree.” The peddler said.
“The state’s objective, with education, is to sell lies and produce docile slaves, prey to state-blessed predators.” The wicked fool said.
“Most parents were raised in the same state-controlled education system as their children. Therefore, they do not know any other way and can’t prepare their children for life either.” The peddler said, regenerating somewhat his “fallen” standing. “The schools teach untruths and make the parents pay for the effort.”
“That’s correct.” The wicked fool said. “The schools do not stress self-discipline, creativity, paying attention, or critical thinking skills. Students leave the schools with a disdain for truth and freedom. More often than not, those individuals, so slave-indoctrinated, will find contemporary regimented life worthwhile. They will consider searching for or speaking truth to be too arduous and even dishonorable. They have given up on Life and are among those who fear the most to examine what it is about their lives that they find worthwhile. They see no value in biosustainability or anarchy, and they yearn for hierarchy. They feel they are only at risk when they act, so they keep their heads bowed, accepting their slavery.”
“Discovering objective truth via the available media is not possible.” The peddler said.
“Very true. If Isaac Newton or Jesus H. Christ were to return as contemporary citizens, they would be seen as flakes and fags, perhaps even evil. Simian citizenry today is somewhat equal to a cluster of deranged rhesus macaques. Ignorance is politically-correct to them. If the citizenry does not learn true history, biology, critical thinking skills, healthful living habits, etc. it will never escape intra-species predation, and the threat of our extinction will loom ever greater.” The wicked fool said. “The CoCs must educate their uneducated members, augmenting our situation of lost instincts with liberal education before it is too late. The super-predators are not wasting time. They have secret societies and opulent fraternal groups, abetting their closed-community, working very hard to place all simians into a political situation where the super-predators do all the commanding, control all contingincies. Our population is destined to be totally managed by them, unless we act quickly. They plan to separate all simians, predators and hosts, into only two classes, hoi polloi and aristocrats.”

“I wonder which class they have picked out for themselves.” The peddler quipped.

“Taking strict control of education, the super-predators will kill the spirit of it and indoctrinate peasants directly through cyborg technology. Every peasant will have a computer connected to their brain, equipped with a suicide switch.” The wicked fool said. “Anyone that does not have a digital connection, brain to internet cloud, a neuron-modem-port, will be perceived as a quaint curiosity. The society of cyborgs will perceive natural simians as super-ignorant animals, like domestic pets, dogs or cats. Cyborgs will care for natural “humans” like simians do feedlot cattle or pets today. What is whimsically referred to as a “human being”, even now, is not much more than an environmentally-challenged smart phone. Soon, there will be little difference between people and phones. Every person will be programmed by the giant technology firms and shut off at the controller’s direction.”
“It sounds like science fiction, but I know some people who have already had chips installed, and social media machines have algorithms which can manipulate us into ANYTHING. So, I’m not sure you are wrong in spirit even if not accurate in all details.” The peddler said. “Give me some idea of the groups you consider predators.”
“That list is vast and blushingly relative.” The wicked fool said. “I don’t think I can enumerate all organized human predators, right now. I can only give you a list of those I consider the most predatory. One is not even alive.”
“Not alive?!” The peddler queried.
“Not alive, and it’s not a virus either.” The wicked fool said. “We all use it . . . money, capital. Capitalism, caedere wealth accumulation, has lent itself to becoming one of the best examples of human predation we have today. Profit is indeed theft, or at least fraud. Economics is the study of that theft, but it has been spared its stigma.”
“Free-market is still the best economic system ever devised.” The peddler said.
“I think so too.” The wicked fool said. “Yet, free-market capitalism is inaccurately worshipped as often as it is unfairly condemned.”
“Why?” The peddler asked.
“Caedere capital is insidious, and it can buy anything, even the destruction of virtue, and it does not honor honor. The predation in strictly free-market capitalism, however, is relatively minor and exists as a two-way street. Every petty predator preys on every other petty predator in a kind of pissing contest. The predation doesn’t kill many of us, so we accept, use, and benefit from it.” The wicked fool said. “Free-market capitalism is only unacceptable when it leaves the circle-jerk category and gets connected to the pols, dynastic bankers, corporate economic rapists, and cartels. Here, its predatory capacity becomes hypertrophied as fractional-banking and fascism. Capital and labor are kept in a situation of war by the super-predatory Zionists. Connected to a number of these cartels or super-predators, capital is subverted from its universal benefits and becomes the very epitome of predation. Those predatory aspects of capitalism can prove to be most profound. If capital were not coupled to caedere symbolism it would not be so negative for biosustainability. But contemporary capital, even digital currency, like bitcoin, is indeed caedere.”
“As opposed to animans?” The peddler asked.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Until capital is a living script, representing a quantity of Life, not a symbol of a quantity of death, it will be indeed negative for the entire living world. Capital must be revised in the crucible of values and smelted in the fires of biosustainability.”
“You said you would give me a list of the most predatory influences in the world?” The peddler asked.
“And, I shall.” The wicked fool said. “There are eight groups that are the most egregious parasites and marauders in our society. These are the planet’s auto-immune diseases, the supreme killers, and the chief destroyers of human freedom, health, and happiness. The Communities of Consensus, CoCs, must give serious consideration to rehabilitating, or eliminating the behavior of, members of these groups if the human race and planetary Life are to survive. They are: 1. the medical establishment, 2. the legal establishment, 3. the prison system, 4. the religious establishment, 5. the fractional banking industry 6. the state and its government, 7. the mafias, 8. advocates of genetic misfits and the disabled.
“You could have easily also mentioned the news & entertainment media, pesticide manufacturers, and the uranium industry, etc.” The peddler said. “Why haven’t you?”
“Yes, I could have. The 8 groups I mentioned are the most predatory.” The wicked fool said. “You may include many predatory groups under the rubrics of my mentioned eight. For example, you might include pesticide manufacturing with pharmaceuticals in the medical establishment. Include the media and entertainment industry along with the nation-state predators, since the pols benefit most from their censorship, and the lies & propaganda they spew. Include the uranium industry and all types of nuclear power in the banking industry, since it is the bankers that run and will benefit most from them.”
“Not all people that work in the predatory groups and industries are predators, are they?” The peddler asked.
“Perhaps not, but since they contribute to the overall predation, and the predatory organization could not function without their services, they are also parasitic.” The wicked fool said. “So that there is no confusion, I’ll give you a partial list of individual predators in the eight predatory organizations. They are the following: Medical doctors, hospital administrators, lawyers, prosecuting attorneys, judges, magistrates, wardens, prison guards, popes, bishops, cardinals, priests, pastors, deacons, media celebrities, witch-doctors, witches, shamans, bankers, nuclear-power executives, politicians, bureaucrats, compassion vultures, genetic misfits, freaks, thugs, etc.. These represent a smorgasbord of human predators. To them one might add other clandestine frauds, swindlers, extortionists, enslavers, contract murderers, etc., parasites all.”
“Other than the common criminals, I don’t think you will ever sell anyone on the predatory nature of these groups. Some, like medical doctors are considered as the quintessence of altruism and humanitarianism.” The peddler observed.
“I’m aware of that.” The wicked fool said. “We all do or try to do what, we think, we will while living. Some people get to feel important in their pomp and circumstance. Others feel powerless, rotting in hovels, every act an apparent disappointment. Time will tell which of us has been truly useful to Life. Our enduring accomplishments will not be determined in our lifetimes. Some of the most successful sounding people turn out to be tremendous catastrophes over time, and visa versa. I am also not a pol, trying to get love from imbeciles. I’m simply speaking the truth as I think it is. It may be just an exercize in futility. I am also trying to reason out a more sure sense of survival for my daughter, the human race, and our “also-rans”. Can I do that, building on a foundation of mud? How can I do that, using lies and deception?”
“Or cowardice?” The peddler said.
“Or cowardice.” The wicked fool agreed. “I know I’m at risk for my beliefs.”
“But, you don’t care?” The peddler asked.
“Of course I care.” The wicked fool answered. “I won’t throw my life away, but I won’t save it by hiding in a hermit’s cave or in a politically-correct lagoon. Pusillanimity would be counterproductive. An interconnection exists between predatory industries which enables them to aid and abet each other everywhere. I have never found a way to demarcate perfectly each distinct predator organization. They are all inextricably interrelated. I am at risk after attacking any one of the eight I mentioned. There is unavoidable blending and overlap of predatorial categories. Predators all use the news & entertainment media to twist perceptions and concepts in what serves as “the mind” of the populace. For an honest person of quality, becoming an “enemy of the people” is not a preventable disposition.”

Chapter Thirteen
“Tell me why the first group you mentioned, the medical establishment, is so predatory and parasitic.” The peddler asked. “You started to do so a few minutes ago.”
The wicked fool said. “Medical science is not a negative thing, and we have people who have fought dearly to bring these facts out of the ether. Many innovators have exercised great courage and undergone much hardship to do so. Yet, many of those same advances are used by most doctors and hospitals to do harm. Virtually all medical doctors are predators, either through acts of commission or omission. Doctors are unaware of, lack any feeling for, or are callous to, the harm they inflict. CoCs need to ascertain which scientific advances are needed, those easily abused by doctors, those doctors which are abusing them, those (doctors and “advances”) which should be discarded, and what can be done to insure the corrected problems do not resurface. Although medical doctors are considered the third leading cause of death, behind heart disease & cancer, it is not an accurate assessment. Many deaths are not included while tabulating the statistics. The contemptible medical establishment, i.e. AMA, doctors, nosocomial infections, with pharmaceutical assistance, kill more people than any other lethal influence. Doing so, doctors are the world’s top assassins. It isn’t as if the industry doesn’t know what they are doing. By the end of the first month of medical school prospective young doctors know, or should know, that 90% of their “healer” aspiration is predation and only 10% is altruistic. That awareness alone may move many to their high rate of suicide. The others continue to study and memorize the lies they are told in order to reap, one day, an ample caedere harvest. Many doctors are Talmudic Jews. Talmudic racial supremacy doctrine maintains that killing and enslaving non-Jews is not wrong. Rabbis routinely preach such racial supremacy garbage. The Talmud demands that Jewish doctors make non-Jews sick and not heal non-Jews. What better way to enslave someone than to make them sick, keep them sick, and charge them a fortune to not kill them? Not all doctors are Talmudic dupes, but many are.”
“I was aware of some of that, but not all.” The peddler said.
“Most people aren’t aware of any of it and just let the situation trap them.” The wicked fool said. “Nature intended for her creation to lead healthy lives or die. The existence of immune systems and all of biology proves that. Doctors violate natural laws, despicably keeping people alive, who should be dead. They keep their victims in a state of perpetual sickness and disease, exploiting them as much as possible, before they kill them. In virtually every case, the exploitation that occurs, is with the collusion of the patient. Also, like lawyers, doctors could easily be replaced by computers. The only part of medicine or Law that cannot be replaced by computers are the mistakes and the predation.”
“I’ve read some of the statistics on nosocomial infections. Pretty scary.” The peddler said.
“For the most part, the quacks’ predation is hidden from public scrutiny.” The wicked fool said. “There is a transactional neurosis involved between the “healers”, the greater medical establishment, and the entropy-debauched victims, i.e. the “sickos”. People age. Mistakes made (and assaults endured) when younger accumulate and add to the burden of life, making us ugly and weak as we age. Few young healthy people enjoy the company of fat complaining old weaklings. Medical doctors accept that challenge, for the filthy lucre involved, aiding and abetting the longevity of the sickos’ indisposition. Virtually the entire world, including the death-worshippers, believes death to be the greatest evil. Practically all victims of disease and their loved ones will stop at virtually nothing to aid the survival of the sicko. Such behavior includes believing in the quack’s omnipotence, and that of the “healing” science, despite ample evidence of venal incompetence.”
“Such as?” The peddler asked.
“Why an example can be found right here in this village.” The wicked fool said. “I learned about the following young woman’s experience from my neighbor. Our heroine went to the doctor with a slight swelling in her throat. It turned out to be an incipient goiter. In northern Brazil, you may not be aware, iodine is almost completely lacking in the soil. Food is also without much iodine here. I’m sure you do know how much Brazilians like to eat dried & powdered manioc roots (farina). Farina and tapioca leech iodine from the body as fast as doctors leech money from patient’s bank accounts. When iodine is lacking, the thyroid in the neck expands to trap every bit of iodine it can scrounge. Failing to find iodine, the thyroid continues to swell, and a goiter develops. All the while, it makes useless thyroxin hormone. Doctors know all this, but some choose to call it cancer. The doctor to which I’m referring did not advise the young woman that she was experiencing an incipient iodine-deficiency goiter. He, instead, told her she had early-stage thyroid cancer. Although he did not say it was incurable, he maintained she would be well-advised to have an immediate thyroidectomy. I have since learned that the doctor liked hunting tattu, and he truly needed a fancier rifle. The second opinion doctor concurred with the first doctor out of professional courtesy, not to mention an expected similar response quid pro quo in return in the future. After the second opinion, the young woman trusted the first doctor, even more. Today she is the proud owner of a handsome throat scar and a synthetic thyroxin hormone dependency. If the doctor had not been a predator, he would have told the young woman to buy a 30ml. bottle of tincture of iodine, $4, for a 5-year supply, and put a few drops of it in a 20-liter water-cooler bottle. A few sips/day, and the goiter would ultimately have shrunk. She would also have lost some weight, protected herself from a number of neoplasms, doubled her normal energy, and prevented her Type 2 diabetes. The doctor was a predator, not a human, and he got his new gun. Happy ending.”
“I’ll say.”
“That’s not the only example.” The wicked fool continued. “A middle-aged man found he was “losing his grip”. His wrists and finger joints were becoming pained and stiff. The doctor diagnosed him with rheumatoid arthritis and suggested a nice operation to remove the most offending right thumb joint. The trusting man, who also had his own built in transactional-neurosis nurse wife, agreed to the mutilation. Today, a year later, trying to eat with a maimed right hand, he no longer throws food around the table. “He has adjusted better than expected,” the nice quack supposedly remarked, choosing a nice phrase out of the nice drug company’s nice propaganda-jargon pamphlet. If the doctor had not been a predator, he would have explained to the man how some simple hand exercises and a half hour of cloudless sunshine a day would have made short work of the rheumatism. The uvB would have produced enough vitamin D3 to facilitate the repair of the stiff and painful joints. The directed movement would have returned his pain-free grasp without surgery. Instead, the doctor referred his trusting patient to a heart specialist who said losing one’s grip signifies a heart condition. Today the man looks like a skeleton, is completely bald, and he doesn’t feel very well. But, with the proper treatment and drugs he is expected to live to a ripe old age. “Patients tolerate the regimen well,” goes the quack refrain, taken from the same nice drug company’s nice jargon pamphlet. To be fair, doctors and hospitals usually only kill by accident the people who trust them. They are not stupid, these predators.”
“They do not want to lose their golden geese.” The peddler said.
“Of course not.” The wicked fool agreed. “The reason they kill so many is that it’s hard to keep track of all the patients, drugs sold, those administered, and all the lies with which they ultimately confuse patients. Sometimes they confuse themselves, and the lucky people die. Lucky us. Why do doctors have so many patients? Doctors are swamped with patients because the AMA has learned to apply the supply & demand axiom only too well. Only those students that can pass the pharmaceutical super sycophancy exam get to be part of the limited supply of credentialed quacks.”
“Do all doctors treat people as if they were milk cows?” The peddler asked.
“Virtually all.” The wicked fool said. “The function of a medical doctor should be only to attend to emergencies, protect from disease & improve patient life, advise on lab tests, offer nutritional & life-style advice, and to pronounce sentence of death on biological misfits & the terminally ill. Instead, they inveigle themselves into the false hope, conflict of interest, and poison business. There, they reap a steady flow of income from their enslaved or moribund prey. Doctors, just as their professional cohorts – lawyers & pols, are human predators. They are not bad, deserving of hellfire, just weak parasites, wanting behavioral change or removal from society.”
“Whenever we feel slightly off our chipper selves we get the trite advice. “Consult with a doctor”, “always talk to your doctor first”, “your doctor knows best”, “don’t ever self-medicate”, “get a second opinion.”” The peddler said. “Everyone is afraid of encroaching on the doctors’ turf.”

“I know. I’ve heard the cautionary commands too.” The wicked fool said. “Everyone looks for authority to, doctors, pols, lawyers, priests, etc.. If someone should, “Practice medicine without a license”, the doctor’s brother predators (lawyers, pols, etc.) jump to the state-licensed doctor’s side for penal assistance. The mendacious propaganda, incased in these repetitive humdrums, obfuscates one vile fact. The “good doctor” will give you all the tests, chemicals, knife cuts, and bad advice necessary to keep you a nice, sick, milkable, establishment monkey. Auxiliary predatory organizations, like the news & entertainment industry, allied to the quacks, assist in disseminating pernicious propaganda to help achieve and protect the cowardly state of dependency.”

“People are not all biologists.” The peddler said. “They do not know much about nutrition and non-medical treatment for their ills. What do they do if they get sick?”

“A person should be able to stay healthy, or recover from transient disease, with proper life-style, self-control, education, diet, exercise, ample sunshine and a positive attitude.” The wicked fool said. “If it can’t, it means that Nature has effectively lost Her patience with that person, their ignorance, or that person’s desire for death has won the battle. The sicko should be allowed to die, making room for a healthy person. The medical profession intervenes to exploit. They know they’re frauds and predators. They live in perpetual fear that we’ll all discover the truth of their collective fraud. You would think with all the money they get, doing things to us, that they would always be happy, wouldn’t you?”

“Well. I think they’re happy enough.” The peddler said. “They seem so.”

“It’s a façade.” The wicked fool said. “Why do you think there are so many doctor suicides? They hide behind their white coats & stethoscopes and keep swallowing the “culture of medicine” drug to go on exploiting the rubes.”

“What would you have sick people do?” The peddler asked.

“Get well or die!” The wicked fool said. “Nature’s programs potentiate us to be healthy enough to reproduce. WE interfere. Every person should study biology and become their own “doctor”. Computers will assist. Only on very rare occasions are specialists needed. Sickness can be avoided, without using medicines, by abiding with a few simple rules. The money people spend on quacks, or lose to other predators, they could use to buy or grow nutritious uncontaminated food. Instead of educating children into salubrious life-styles, society obviates its responsibility and allows sickos to be exploited by a select few. Why must they be oppressed? And, why must sickos cause themselves and their fellows more misery by listening to predacious quacks and taking poisonous drugs that sicken them further and end up in the water supply? Schizoid sickos are so filled with the constitutive survival lesion that they become non-compos mentis, behaving as all prey behave.”

“Drugs in the water supply?” The peddler asked.

“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Sickos urinate and defecate too. The dissolved drugs they take leave the sicko’s bodies and enter the environment, sickening others too. Aquifers around the world are contaminated with chemicals excreted by sicko’ kidneys. Urine & feces, among other choice substances, enter sewage treatment systems and are bathed in chlorine bleach. The carcinogenic chloramines and trihalomethanes mix with all the other toxic chemicals from the pesticide industry, fluorine from pharmaceutical deployment, and the medical establishment’s profit-taking. Behold! An entire new crop of sickos marches up to be counted as prey.”

“It seems the drug companies and the doctors collude.” The peddler said.

“Of course, they do, and have been doing so for over a hundred years.” They are a disease. Blending Big Pharma with the banking and medical establishment has made a profane alliance, and it’s almost invincible. The legal and political predators, aided by the religious, banking and media predators, abet the compassion-vultures and the quacks in the blood-sucking. With the complicity of the more insidious predators, the doctors have effectively erased the Hippocratic Oath. A perfect example of this charade exists today in the great HIV-AIDS’ swindle.” The wicked fool said.

“Swindle?” The peddler asked.

“AIDS, as opposed to African tuberculosis, brand X, and imitators, is an indisposition cum disease caused by bizarre life-styles that are tacitly prohibited by Nature. AIDS kills with impunity! It is a simple case of cause and effect. The scam, associated with AIDS, is predicated on the belief in a causal virus, “HIV”. HIV may not even exist.” The wicked fool said. “No one has ever seen definite proof that it does. There are no electron micrographs of it in action. Purported micrographs show only correlation artefacts that do not follow Koch’s Postulates. The only proof that does exist is bogus – research financed by drug companies and published in drug company “Science” magazines. The HIV-ELISA test is completely bogus. There may be thousands of viruses that are specific, or nearly so, for every type of human or animal cell. Virtually none have been characterized, let alone some HIV.”
“How can that be?” The peddler asked.

“If a virus does exist that associates with AIDS, it’s probably an artefact or a simple passenger script.” The wicked fool said. “The HIV test, itself, tests for pieces of viruses from other retroviruses. Virtually all classic victims of AIDS are degenerates, drug addicts, and anal-copulators. These poor sickos, assisted by drug-dealing doctors and the politically-correct-propaganda factories, have allowed bizarre toxic lifestyles to destroy their immune systems. As with almost all disease, unhealthy lifestyles are the primary cause of AIDS. There are other causes: Terror & Shame, after getting the news that an execrable ELISA-HIV test has exhibited positive. The reprehensible notice depresses the immune system’s competence much more than is bandied about. Anti-HIV/AIDS drugs tear a big hole in the entire simian body, not just the immune system. All four destroy will-to-live.”

“I understand how injecting drugs might depress an immune system but butt-fucking?” The peddler joked. “You’re talking about the love of my life.”

“Sperm introduced to an environment of microbes, putrefaction, feces and blood can select for a surfeit of chemical and biological assaults that the immune system can’t contest effectively.” The wicked fool said. “Nature intended the immune system to handle occasional assaults. She, apparently, did not foresee such a profuse mania for narcotics and anal-copulation. Ancient texts frowned upon and even prohibited sodomy. Perhaps for just such a reason.”

“Maybe the ancients had their own bouts with AIDS.” The peddler suggested.

“Entirely possible.” The wicked fool said. “If we set aside for a moment the victims of AIDS that contract for it with their insalubrious life-styles, we come to iatrogenic or medically-induced AIDS. Lost will-to-live, from positive ELISA-HIV test results, potentiates one to predacious medical advice as much as does an excess of will-to-live. Victims of the HIV-ELISA-tests-swindle are persuaded by the human predator combine to give themselves the disease. Toxic chemicals, such as those distributed by the pharmaceutical companies, pushed by medical profession shills, include: DNA chain terminators, anti-retrovirals, protease-inhibitors, vaccines, toxic generic remedies, etc.” The profane combination of medical tests, self-serving advice, auto-suggestion, and drugs effectively attack the victim, swindled into believing in an imaginary virus’s potential. There remains little cause for hope.”

“They’re pricey too.” The peddler said.

“Such poisons, figuratively, nail the coffin shut.” The wicked fool said. “Swindled victims get the same disease that drug-addicts and anal-copulaters get without any of the purported carnal pleasure that goes with these strange lifestyles. Terror, shame and treatment does not end with the victim’s death. The excreted and surplus toxic chemicals involved do not just disappear. Their toxicity remains intact long after sewage treatment, and the nightmare continues.”

Chapter Fourteen

“The tap-water?” The peddler asked.

“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Other people become ill when they drink AIDS blades’ urine-excreted drug derivatives that end up in the tap-water. Unnecessary toxic chemicals, DNA analogues, and other aromatic nuclei from medications that kill and sicken thousands of people every year.”

“More terror, shame and treatment.” The peddler agreed.

“Right. And death. And why?” The wicked fool said. “The scam is foisted on the world by a concerted virtual-syndicate of state, medical, legal, penal, media, banking, compassion-vulture, and religious predators.”

“You can’t escape it.” The peddler said.

“No.” The wicked fool agreed. “In areas where the HIV test is not considered bogus and organized predators are in large supply, it is considered criminal and immoral to be HIV positive and stay healthy. Without a de facto promise to attempt to destroy one’s health by taking toxic chemicals, a HIV-positive may be subjected to the regimen by force. An HIV-positive entity MUST be laid open to the toxic drugs. The state’s legal system demands compliance, if not directly then indirectly. Organized parasitism lines the pockets of not only Big Pharma and Little Quacks. Wardens, prison guards, commercial prison-enslavers, etc. profit from anal-copulation, and the drugs that feed addiction. There are over 5 thousand prisons in the ZSA and less than thirty have addict treatment programs. Do you think it is an accident that the entertainment industry and politically-correct fiends push sexual perversion? The predators are united in causing AIDS and in imposing HIV treatment. The religious system’s “morality” swindle and pseudo “karma” life-after-death fraud also encourages compliance. The state and media’s drug propaganda and outright lies assist in spawning ever more avid drug-users.”

“The drug war has failed?” The peddler said, sarcastically.

“Has the Drug War failed!?” The wicked fool asked. “Hell no! The money made by the world’s predators, on illegal drugs, for hundreds of years, and now “legalized by prescription” too, has never been greater than after the Drug War enabled them. But I digress. Excuse me.”

“I excuse you.” The peddler said. “How does one, turning “positive” on an HIV test, escape fate?”

“Good question.” The wicked fool said. “For obvious reasons, medical predators recommend regular testing. “If at first you don’t succeed” . . . (in presenting positive), keep testing, right? Sooner or later, these medical parasites will snare many of the naïve. A girl on an irregular period or a guy that has recently returned from a malaria endemic region can test positive. A recent convert to TB positive will likely also test positive on most variations of the standard ELISA-HIV test. Some new positives, will never know that their only crime was to have recently eaten a pizza made from cheese fermented from the milk of a CAEV-infected goat.”

“Just imagine the death-dealing shock that the sucker must feel, accepting as bona fide the positive results on one of those bogus HIV-tests!” The peddler said. “I’ll bet there are suicides because of it.”

“Oh, there are.” The wicked fool said. “Some people just shrivel up and die from the sentence. My daughter recently told me about a practical joke, going around, that should dramatically increase the number of HIV positive test rubes. A person is given a banana to eat that is purported to have been pre-injected with body fluid from an AIDS patient. Just think of how many people, after that, will believe they may have been infected. How many more will go to get a bogus HIV test? How many more will believe the test results and start medicating? Pharmaceutical marketing genius!”

“Imagine being told you have an incurable disease.” The peddler said. “Your entire life is instantly upended.”

“The quack is ubiquitous, like a vulture, offering hope – a swindle & a swig.” The wicked fool said. “How, indeed, does one resist such malevolence? The enormity of the con is incredible!”

“The politically-correct mob holds treatment as a given.” The peddler said.

“It does for sure.” The wicked fool said. “The advertising-hungry news media gets involved. These predators are subsidiaries of the parasitical fractional-banking industry. Big Pharma’s blood money hires the media’s malicious politically-correct propaganda. It drives the sanctioned dagger deeper into the victim. Selling a person, or the taxpayer, high-dollar poisons, inducing people to consume them. It effectively kills victim after victim. Once the drugs, speciously focused on the elusive HIV, make the victims sick, the mercenary quacks swoop down and administer other toxic drugs. These drugs cost even more in money, nausea, and pain. The doctors, hospital administrators, and pharmaceutical companies garner ever more caedere wealth. Another success story.”

“It does seem hopeless.” The peddler said.

“Yes, it does.” The wicked fool said. “But, suppose, for a moment, that I am wrong, and, one-day, AIDS starts obeying Koch’s Postulates and proves to have a viral cause. Like other diseases caused by viruses in body fluids, you could kiss someone and get the disease from saliva. You could also get the disease from mosquitoes or triatome beetles. Of course, pharmaceutical company AIDS propaganda maintains that AIDS is magical and not transmitted by kissing or blood-sucking insects. Are you beginning to see the magnitude of the swindle?”
“It’s enormous!” The peddler said.
“Continue imagining that HIV causes AIDS.” The wicked fool said. “Suppose also that anti-retrovirals and protease inhibitors do indeed, with a certain enduring morbidity, save the HIV victim from immediate mortality. Before the virus kills, if the chemicals are even marginally effective, the victim will spend many days in an intermittent suffering condition. Right?”
“Of course.”
“During that moribund increased lifespan, the victim will infect other sex partners.” The wicked fool said. “They will infect others with more powerful viruses, now educated to resist the administered anti-retrovirals too.”
“So, the drugs will just make the epidemic worse!” The peddler said.
“That’s my take on it.” The wicked fool agreed.
“It makes no difference whether AIDS has a viral cause or not.” The peddler said.
“None.” The wicked fool answered. “It’s pure predation. The chemical regimen, plus the unwittingly consumed toxic tap-water, with its resulting “infections”, is almost a perfect business today.”
“Governments and super predators, desiring to depopulate indiscriminately, will not ever go against the status quo now.” The peddler added. “They can think of nothing better than poisoning water supplies with AIDS drugs, Fluorine, and toxic drugs from other sources and industries.”
“Now with the injected fruit development, the demand for testing will go up, and the scam can go on, seemingly, ad infinitum.” The wicked fool said.
“That’s right!”
“Pure profit – no downside.” The wicked fool said. “Selling innocents on HIV tests and a regimen of poisons has no risk for the pharmaceutical-medical predators. It’s a scheme worthy of the “robbers of widows & orphans, betrayer of friends” of yore. The health industry wins every time a new rube is discovered. There are many rubes.”
“You’re convincing me. I must admit. I never knew how grasping doctors were.” The peddler conceded.
“I have another example: The cause of most malignant melanomas is not absolutely certain. Sunscreen, hot soapy showers, fluoridated water, trans-fats, and sunlight deficient in ozone-filtration are the most-probable suspects. Sunscreen contains a wealth of toxic chemicals, all of which are guaranteed to sicken its users and make any avaricious & predatory medical doctor happy. Rav Aloirav, the famous surgical bioweapons creator, said. “Never put anything on your skin that you wouldn’t willingly also swallow.” The chemicals in sunscreen depress immune systems, poisoning users. They also shade out the salubrious ultraviolet B, uvB, more than they do the extra inimical ultraviolet A, uvA. This swindles people into permitting more of the uvA to enter their undefended skin to give mutations, like TT-dimers, cancer precursors. The sun does the same thing, without sunscreen’s help, on cloudy days, in the winter, before 10 AM & after 2 PM or in higher latitude lands where the ozone filter has been seriously depleted.” The wicked fool said, and continued. “Rav has another rhyme to know when to get or not get sunlight: “If the sky is blue, it’s for you. If the sky is gray, stay away.””
The wicked fool continued. “Attenuating uvB with sunscreen weakens the immune system in other ways too. Cutting out the uvB prevents the skin from producing healthy levels of vitamin D. Vitamin D augments cancer-fighting cellular immunity. Sunscreen refractory uvA increases oxidative stress and destroys vitamin D. Sunscreen also blocks out sun-generated factors which empower enzymes that cut mutations, like TT-dimers, out of DNA. If the TT-dimer, et al. mutations do cause cancer, sunscreen-weakened cellular immunity can’t kill it. Sunscreen reduces the energy level of both uvA & uvB. That means their frequency decreases & their wavelength increases to produce more infrared radiation, IR. Infrared (IR) energy is largely heat energy that is not well-tolerated by humans. That IR passes into the sunscreen user’s body.”
“You mean it also causes other problems.” The peddler asked.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Some malignancy, neoplastic transformation of cells, is caused by ancient-embedded viruses and other genes working in tandem with the ultraviolet, (uv), and infrared radiation, IR. These viruses and other lysogenic scripts exfoliate from DNA in response to heat and uv. Some of these genetic strands also code for heat-shock proteins that can come from taking hot showers after a sunbath on a cloudy day. The soapier the hot water the more vitamin D is also washed from your skin.”
Why don’t doctors explain these facts to us? Do they think we’re too stupid to understand?” The peddler asked.
“Many do, and many more don’t care about much more than what you can deliver to them by way of caedere wealth.” The wicked fool said. “Not all of them think you’re stupid. Many are terrified you’re going to see through their con. Most, though, don’t know the truth themselves, because the medical schools do not teach critical thinking. They stress the memorizing of pharmaceutical doctrine, chemical regimens, and jargon. They throw biology & physiology under the bus. Interested more in the bottom line, they would rather feed you poisons, like fluoride. They want to keep you sick, cut you up to make you weak & dependent, spending your energy on their “good intentions”. How many times have you heard the news & entertainment media prevaricators speaking negatively about grasping doctors, sunscreen, or bathing in hot soapy water?”
“Never.”
“Much can be attributed to simple ignorance, but the interconnectedness between human predators is legion, highly suspect, and not coincidental.” The wicked fool said.
“Doctors are like lawyers, preying on unfortunates at such times as their human quarry is most vulnerable.” The peddler said.
“True.” The wicked fool agreed. “Before they assess their fees, the professional predators look first to see how much trouble the poor sap is in, how scared he or she is, or how big his or her bank balance is. The predators may not have started out as weak creatures. These professionals may at one time, before they transformed into parasites, have wanted to reduce suffering and penal servitude. Very few, perhaps, will ever know that Rockefeller, Rothschild, and predatory banking in general control their genuflecting to the blind greed of these gold-digging professions.”
“Do you really think it would matter?” The peddler asked.
“Probably not.” The wicked fool said. “Caedere gain demands the medical and legal aficionados do the bidding of these budding Mephistopheles. Some professionals discover, too late, that they have become the antithesis of their original aspirations. The town-drunk doctor scenario comes immediately to mind. In actuality, most probably bury their scruples alive and live day to day completely oblivious to the lives they help ruin.”
“How did we come to this point?” The peddler asked.
“It was a mutual understanding, at first.” The wicked fool said. “Sickos were mostly very ignorant of biology and wanted to abuse their bodies. Being hard-wired in our DNA to survive, suicide is not an easy frolic to finagle. Slow suicide from overeating, TV, drugs, alcohol, crime, and other cop-outs is much easier. When they got sick, they wanted relief. Doctors, imagining that they knew what they were pretending like they knew, tried to help. It probably would have been all right if a super-predator hadn’t come along. To build his pharmaceutical swindle and augment his cache of caedere wealth, Rockefeller got hegemony over the medical schools.”
“Simple math after that.” The peddler said.
“Imagine how much suffering and death have been caused just by the HIV-AIDS swindle.” The wicked fool said. “Picture all the stacks of caedere money that have been scooped up by the peddlers of AIDS’ chemicals. Then estimate how much money, misery, and death all the other medical scams garner.”
“Not a trifling sum, I’m sure.” The peddler said. “Especially when you add in the hospital’s take and the hospices.”
“Don’t forget the interconnected predators, like insurance companies, paperwork administrators, laboratory equipment manufacturers, media, etc..” The wicked fool said. “Doctors are like fungal spores. If they ever get their germ tubes into you . . . …as with lawyers, bankers, and prisons . . . when doctors get their talons into prey, the way out for the victim is virtually always fatal. Only a priest can save the prey, for a price, with prostituted zombification. Professionals go on exploiting and parasitizing their fellow man, swallowing the smorgasbord of rationalizations that the transactional neuroses and the medical & legal establishment lay out for their perusal and ultimate selection. The euphemism with which they feel the most comfortable serves the purpose. The favorite choice, of course, is “intent”. “One must understand the good doctor’s (lawyer’s) “intent” before criticizing,” goes the spiel. The doctor’s conventional behavior and bedside manner easily lends itself to being thought of as a humane person desirous of relieving another’s suffering, despite the corollary damage. The transactional swindle magically absolves all mercenary guilt, i.e. the sicko wants to believe in the doctor and the doctor CANNOT, DARE NOT, mistrust himself. Ironically, the optimum prescription for the “healing” profession, is a panacea.”
“What about vaccines?” The peddler asked.
“Poisons and viruses that can cause mutations & cancer are included in most vaccines.” The wicked fool said. “It’s a miracle there aren’t more casualties. The big vaccine makers (Pfizer, Merck, Sanofi, GlaxoSmithKline, Gates, etc.) would have us believe they are either gloriously incompetent or diabolically “immune”.”
“Are those ingredients absolutely necessary to the task?” The peddler asked.

Chapter Fifteen
“I don’t know if there are innocuous vaccine strategies available. At first glance, from historical data I have read, it appears to be simple industrial lassitude & incompetence.” The wicked fool said. “If those poisons and contaminating viruses are not necessary ingredients, and the intent is to be diabolical, vaccine manufacturers have proved that they can subvert and exploit, effectively, people’s natural desire to be protected from illness.”
“Very true.” The peddler said.
“Do you remember infantile paralysis . . . polio?” The wicked fool asked.
“Yes.”
“Most polio was caused by ignorant, well-meaning mothers, scrubbing their children vulnerable to it with warm soapy water.” The wicked fool said. “They washed away all the child’s skin’s protective oils and vitamin D, and the virus gained easier access. Along came Salk and built a vaccine that cut cases down dramatically but infected many kids with contaminating viruses, like SV-40, left over from the vaccine-making process. Then, as Bill Gates showed in India & Africa, willfully or not, vaccines can be used as delivery mechanisms for the surreptitious introduction of tragedy and disease.”
“Why would he want to do that; do you think?” The peddler asked.
“That subhuman billionaire, the predator, Bill Gates, is a racist and comes from a long line of racists.” The wicked fool said. “He has effectively capitalized on the ZSA’s politicians’ gift to the vaccine manufacturers. These purveyors of death now have immunity, by ZSA Federal Law, from prosecution for willful murder of vaccine recipients. Gates has been quite successful at vaccine-killing many of his ancestor’s tribal enemies, the black indigenous Africans and dark-skinned Caucasians.”
“I wonder how many more children have been murdered by his vaccines.” The peddler asked.
“Population control and eugenics are terrible concepts to the incorrigibly-ignorant & religious.” The wicked fool said. “Especially when the insidious counter-propaganda of the religious has been disseminated for decades.”
“That is true.” The peddler said.
“It is conceivable that the vaccine manufacturers and their bankers have become frustrated with such willful ignorance. Perhaps they feel it is necessary to experiment on healthy children along with the freaks and terminally ill?” The wicked fool said. “Simians are but lab rats to them, anyway. We breed like dumb animals. It appears that that is the reason the predator fraternity are not cleaning up Fukushima & Chernobyl or decommissioning all nuclear power plants. They are letting the infernal industry experiment on us while also destroying humanity slowly but inexorably. One day, it will be complete devastation. Anyone having anything to do with the creation of nuclear energy or weapons is a super-predator and absolutely without positive worth.”
“With their resources, the super predators could clean up the entire nuclear technology mess.” The peddler said.
“With their resources and the resources of the other predators that aid and abet such efforts, they could indeed.” The wicked fool said. “Why destroy the rest of planetary Life in the meantime?”
“Expense.” The peddler said.
“Caedere wealth.” The wicked fool agreed.
“You mentioned the lawyers . . .” The peddler said.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “The second group of organized predators is the legal establishment, lawyers and judges. These predators are interpretation parasites.”
“They translate laws into language which laymen understand?” The peddler asked.
“No.” The wicked fool said. “They translate reality into symbols of their choosing, which do not correspond to normal analogous linguistic symbolism. They feign to argue over the interpretation placed on these symbols, and throw reality under the bus. Well over half of all legal questions are not answered by the current system, leaving the victims of such questions bereft of help. Biological Law is given very little notice or place. Archaic precedent and older custom, mixed with base public sanction, generate infinite representative vehicles for lawyers to exploit. These midget sophistic ideologies are truncated even further and forced into a mold that benefits the $cheister, the juri$t, the pro$ecuting attorney and the pri$on $y$tem. More than any other single anathema, Written Law institutionalizes injustice.”
“How is that?” The peddler asked.
“Written Law obviates or perverts Biological Law. It supports the mistreatment of those with lesser amounts of caedere wealth (poor) by those with greater amounts of caedere wealth (rich).” The wicked fool said. “If possession of caedere wealth signified natural fitness to survive it would be okay. That is NOT what it signifies. There is no correlation. The objective of Written Law is the apotheosis of death and advancement of caedere wealth, power and an epicurean paradise for a select few. That end is achieved every day by more and more of the super-predators.”
“But Written Law is said to do the exact opposite of that which you maintain.” The peddler cautioned.
“Yes. I’ve heard the same noise.” The wicked fool said. “Written Law serves those wealthy enough to manipulate it. The words, Truth, Justice, Honor, Liberty, Virtue, Integrity, Beauty, etc. are like other debauched symbols in sophistry. They serve as meaningless whims and afterthoughts to the legal profession, because a lawyer can truncate and betray them to the point where they can all be substituted by caedere wealth. The legal profession’s pomposity makes a mockery of human aspirations to excellence. Written Law and the court system are forms of caedere-wealth inspired savagery, superimposed upon brutality. Savagery can only be overcome, if it is possible to overcome, by education and objectives focused on creativity and quality. Brutality seems to be refractory to everything. Just because a gaggle of doctors or lawyers have more infrastructure and caedere resources to support their con games should not mean they are more entitled to impunity than are hordes of statutory rapists & murderers. Society maintains entire classes of these credentialed predators, profiting from the insane idea that by torturing some of Her creatures Man can force Nature to compensate for her caprice.” The wicked fool said. “Penal servitude will NEVER accomplish anything positive.”

“But the alternative.” The peddler said.

“What about the alternative?!” The wicked fool queried. “If society can no longer stomach the creatures they build, then kill those creatures, immediately, but with an apology – not as punishment for some imagined evil lurking within them. And, just because doctors, lawyers and bankers are better murderers, cheats, traitors, liars and frauds than rapists doesn’t mean they are also more qualified to live or control the contingencies whereby others do live. Camouflage is not the only Natural Selection arrow in Nature’s quiver.”

“So, you would allow rapists and robbers to go on with their lives, as if they had never committed a crime?” The peddler said.

“Absolutely not!” The wicked fool said. “If I were not like you, a greedy coward, I would kill them as soon as I could catch them. But, I would also feel that I had the right to kill any predators, the miscreant might hire or cause to be hired. Sewer-swimming predators like attorneys, state prosecutors, and judges swarm around other predatory simians like flies around shit. Unfortunately, there are no insecticides that target lawyers, judges, and pols.”

“You won’t convince many people of your opinion!” The peddler said.

“Of course not!” The wicked fool replied. “Less than a thousandth of a percent of the Homo genus has the knowledge of biology that is necessary to be as qualified as a rat for life. I’m not trying to win an election here with you. I have absolutely no desire for public acclaim. Simian kudos are nothing good for me. I know how fast they can turn to censure. Kudos and censure, mob sentiments, stand on the very same quicksand . . . meaningless whim. They represent nothing but fear and pain for me. I’m trying to teach you and I something about our arrogance, cowardice, and ignorance. I’m reaching, perhaps too far, in my dream for excellence. Maybe some day we’ll come back to this planet and be in a better position, having alleviated some suffering.”

“And you’re so smart?” The peddler asked.

“No. I’m a wicked fool. How are you going to learn anything from a human being that is not considered a wicked fool?” The wicked fool asked, and continued. “In nature, many animals become stressed. Mothers will often kill and eat their young. Nature offers that option as an antidote, an alternative, a pressure-relief action to the reproducer’s permanent dementia and/or death. How many rabbit courts exist to punish the mother rabbit, taken in willful murder of her young? Do they charge her with the crime of murder and cannibalism? How often is a randy gander tried for attempted rape for biting the feathers of a recalcitrant sanctimonius duck? Ridiculous!?”

“Of course.” The peddler answered.

“Any parent that willfully murders its young is hurting beyond description.” The wicked fool said. “They would never do such a thing if they were not deranged, perhaps from agony. We know precious little about our own consciousness. How can we presume to judge the motives of another? The incorrigible miscreant needs a quick death, not castigation. Yet, the legal system jumps right in to judge, exploit, and enslave their grave weakness.”

“You would absolve such criminals of guilt?!” The peddler asked.

“Absolutely.” The wicked fool said. “Savage assaults and willfully inflicted death of another occur in all life forms, do they not?”

“I guess so.” The peddler answered.

“They do.” The wicked fool said. “All of creation lets Nature be the ultimate arbiter. Yet, Man feels he is wiser than Nature. He seeks to aggrandise a cartel of legal parasites by punishing entropic victims and gaining compensation via sadistic response to natural tragedy. How do you think lawyers define Common Law? They say it comes from statutes, public sanctions, and precedents. Written Law is therefore state-influenced, fermented mob-rule. Judgement and castigation please only the incorrigibly ignorant and religious. The craving for a big brute at the shoulder, ready to bully humans to the knee, exists in all pols, lawyers, bankers and police. Do you suppose it stops there? It does not! Institutionalized punishment only creates more assaults and produces more pain than there would have been without intervention.”

“I don’t know.” The peddler admitted.

“Of course you don’t know.” The wicked fool said. “You are terrified to know. Knowing would mean, if you had an ounce of sentience, you might feel some responsibility to effect changes. You are as weak as a religious person, hiding behind an imaginary bully that protects you from accountability.”

“Fuck you!”

“Thank you for the offer, but I prefer women, and I’m promised.” The wicked fool said.

“Cute.”

“Ignorance is the enemy.” The wicked fool said. “Cowardice is the enemy. Apathy, arrogance, and frailty are the enemy. Education is the cure. Mission is the cure.”

“And responsibility?” The peddler asked.

“I covered that.” The wicked fool said. “If you cannot dream about a solution, and work to realize it, you will never know responsibility.”

“That’s it?!” The peddler shouted.

“That’s it. The courage to dream.” The wicked fool said. “As a species, we must believe that when people know why an action is not warranted, they will cease the errant behavior. Punishment is unnecessary. It divides us and makes us weak vis a vis the super-predators. In the human condition, elimination of the miscreant’s behavior is only, and the only, self-defense. Ostracism is a custodial tool. Imprisonment is criminal brutality. Homicide is a custodial tool. Capital punishment is a crime against humanity.”

“Semantics!” The peddler countered.

The wicked fool just shrugged his shoulders and poured himself some more beer. The peddler watched him do so and then said. “You were explaining why lawyers are predators.”

“Yes. I was.” The wicked fool said. “People divide their lives into segments of time. Time, for most people, may be freely convertible into money and caedere wealth. But, time is also an integral part of, and money is a symbol of, an honest man’s life. When you steal his hard-earned money you, effectively, steal part of his life. If you steal enough you kill him, or leave him without any meaningful life. Yet, the legal establishment, a Rothschild state banking construct, prohibits an honest man from seeking out his own choice of “Redress” or “Justice”. Probably because the entire human world, if they knew the truth, would band together and deliver the Rothschild family and all the other banking dynasties to the guillotine. As far as I can see, if someone does something violent against you, like robbing you, they owe you a debt. You should be able to collect whatever you feel they owe. You should not have to get a lawyer or swear out a complaint. Caveat emptor – let the buyer beware. If a miscreant commits a crime, a tort, an assault of some type against you. Then, that miscreant in effect has bought your response, whatever that response turns out to be. The miscreant sealed its own fate when it elected to “buy” the criminal act. Where do a bunch of yahu $chei$ter$, with the state at their back, come off saying that only they have the right to “play God” and punish the offense? It’s the victim that sits in the creditor’s seat. Only the creditor has the right to absolve and set the price of debt absolution.”

“Taking the Law into your own hands.” The peddler said. “Vigilante justice!”

“”Do it yourself” justice wasn’t so bad.” The wicked fool said. “There were mistakes, but it was better than going without any justice, as we must today, where only the wealthy benefit from the Law. If you could find your lost honesty, you too could admit that what we have today with “Rule of Written Law” is effectively no better than vigilante justice. I dare say what we have now is much worse. How many people are in state cages today, because they tried to avoid colluding in genocides around the world by paying taxes as blood money to facilitate Rothschild’s arm deployments? There are a million people in the penitentiary because they were found to have a prohibited leaf in their pocket. There was absolutely no predation involved in their “crime”. Super-predators made the leaf illegal in order to catch simians and make them slaves in the prison complex. Why does the human race not attack and kill the corporations that made the situation, relieving their friends from involuntary servitude? I’ll tell you why. Irresponsibility! Today, the lower echelon of classes has not got a chance. They’re doomed! The poor man is expected to trust in the predatory state, paying a sanctioned predator to gain redress for him. Like all aficionados of “Law”, the legal exploiters take a man’s acts out of context with life, twisting the prey’s words against him. Regardless of the facts, extenuating circumstances, and the accused’s former positive life, the accused is “rewarded” or “punished” on the curried perception the lawyer presents to the court and the preconceptions of the juri$t. With his money, his de facto blood, the honest man must line the pockets of a thieving $chei$ter lawyer and juri$t. He must pay a miscreant to gain an ersatz “justice” or “counsel” in a corrupt court of law to prevent himself from an institutionalized financial rape, prison, and/or violence against his person.” The wicked fool said. “Predator propaganda, pols, and the legal establishment have given vigilante justice an undeserved bad name.”

“Better that ten guilty go free . . “ The peddler quoted.

Chapter Sixteen

“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “And that’s exactly what has happened! We’re now living under the yoke of those freed ten guilty. Ten caedere rich predators went free after raping one honest, innocent, poor wretch! Taken to the limit, and added up, means you now look up to the ZSA, Zionist States of America, a government of fiends, frauds, and super-predators. In the meantime, just to escape the noose, the unfortunates must pay the licensed thug. Is it easier for the rich man, guilty or innocent, to do that? I wonder. Honest men must pay crooks to be heard by a corrupt jurist in order to survive being humiliated, robbed, imprisoned, enslaved, or killed by the predatory state. Lawyers have a hegemony on “truth” & “justice”. They have a monopoly on “redress” & “punishment”. Lawyers and other professional crooks, like judges and pols, steal a man’s life when they cheat him of his money. He has no recourse but to accept the verdict in the state’s rapaciously corrupt protection racket, his government’s courts. Rich or poor, those connected to super-predators slide. Very few poor are well connected.”

“So, lawyers steal $ = time = life.” The peddler summarized.

“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “That’s about right. The legal pillager, effectively, kills the client, dollar by dollar, minute by minute, piece by piece. Another variety of professional crook can cheat and steal a person’s money. If it gets caught pilfering, it runs to its brother in predation, the lawyer. Here, it pays a percentage of its theft, as a business expense, for exoneration. This form of personal aggrandizement is quite popular in lands where Written Law oppresses. It is so successful that stupid, well-merchandised unscrupulous people can even become Presidents of the ZSA. They make their lawyers and fraud experts cabinet ministers, judges and such. It’s been that way for decades in the ZSA. Ever since Eisenhower, the presidents have been getting ever more corrupt, perpetrating ever more crime against humanity. Those who vote for or against such fiends are accessories to the war crimes that the vote-whores commit in their name. Lawyers and the sanitized brutality they administer captures impunity for them at a terrible price – the blood of their children. Lawyers reduce everything of true value to a caedere symbol of their perverted interpretation, usually money, fiat paper. Other systems of retribution are hidden, strictly controlled, or prohibited. The law courts thus facilitate the legal establishment’s monopoly over state predation.”

“What about crime?!” The peddler asked.

“Except for political crime, which is always profitable if you are connected, capital crimes are usually perpetrated by people caught up in a maelstrom of conflicting emotions and constraints.” The wicked fool said. “Gratuitous violence represents just one of the many thrashings about in agony that occurs as the victim criminal attempts to choose the lesser of evils. It is some of the suffering that presents in the human condition. Criminals castigate themselves much more than any society could ever do, especially after the gravity of the offense lixiviates on their conscience over time. But, society has no time or patience for lixiviating. Also, there is no way to undo a crime any more than there is undoing any act. It is another one of the bizarre characteristics that dwell in the human condition. Most murdered people deserve their fate and are dispatched in a moment of opportunity and/or irrationality. But, who really cares? Guilt tossing is always a matter of perspective.”
“Aren’t you stereotyping?” The peddler criticized.
“Yes. I am.” The wicked fool admitted.
“Don’t you know that stereotypes are . .” The peddler said.
“Stereotypes are never absolutely correct mathematically, but they tend to be in error only infrequently. An intelligent person neglects the wisdom contained in both cynicism and quasi-absolutes at personal peril.” The wicked fool countered. “What castrates is the apathy that may ensue from too close a proximity to the cynic.”
“Oh.”
“Society cannot allow crimes by politically unconnected people to go ignored, for obvious reasons.” The wicked fool said. “Prosecutors are politically-connected legal predators that get involved out of merciless greed with punishing simian victims. They pander to a weak, cowardly, ignorant and vengeful society. Institutionalized punishment seems to be a unique simian invention that only adds to world suffering. The hoi polloi are not given to critical thinking or feeling clearly. They let fear push them into empowering punishing sadistic predators, called district or prosecuting attorneys. These parasites persecute purely out of political profit motives or for the malicious pleasures they derive from chastisement. The system insures more anguish in the world than there would be without these bootlicking legal plagues. Eliminating these professions would be a step in the direction of enlightened civilization.”
“It has been suggested that we might try to have some sympathy for predators that are victims of low intelligence and poor education.” The peddler said.
“Such as lawyers, prosecutors?” The wicked fool said, purposely misconstruing what the peddler suggested. “Sympathy leading where? A word of caution is in order. Sympathy for predators, such as lawyers and police, coming from fractured nuclear families, could be habit-forming, extending even to bona-fide miscreants. Society cannot afford so much largesse, raising children with love, waiting for criminals to ferment their guilt feelings. Most lawyers have cerebral deficiencies and mal-upbringing which condemns them to growing up familiar only with natural simian camouflage – fraud, betrayal, lying and cheating. They have no alternative to parasitism. Doctors are not so lucky. Virtually all doctors possess excellent memories and have studied biology. Their other obvious cognitive handicaps are no justification for impunity. They KNOW that most of their prescriptions and surgeries are unhealthy, heinous, and predatory. Removing or reforming predators, of whatever persuasion, may enable stronger individuals, capable of accepting “human” aspirations, to act as role models.”
“Law is like a fishnet. It catches little fish, but the big ones break through it and escape.” The peddler quoted from someone.
“I hope you did indeed derive that meaning out of my little critique. In our world, today, someone errs, exposes an aspect of their humanity. Legal fiends vilify him, warehouse him with monkeys, and subject him to all the taunts and jibes of what might have been. Then the mini-fiends, voters, marvel at the kind of spiritual curiosities they have produced when they experience these psychologically-raped individuals returning to society. If not mistreating society, pandering in such a manner, lawyers use the law in other ways to perpetrate every kind of predatory injustice imaginable.” The wicked fool said. “The only alternative to vigilante justice and thieving lawyers is in the Community of Consensus, CoC.”
“So, you do not approve of jails?” The peddler asked.
“Prisons serve no purpose beyond sadistic punishment and predatory exploitation.” The wicked fool said. “That’s why I consider the prison establishment to be the third group of humanity’s predators. I could place this category within the parasitic legal or state organizations. But, the penetentiaries, per se, have preyed upon hundreds of millions of people over the last few decades. After fractional-banking slavery, convict slavery is the next best example, we have today, of involuntary servitude. Even the U.S. Constitution smiles upon it. That is why I give contemporary organized involuntary servitude a title of its own. A percentage of every state’s citizenry is always incarcerated. These are virtually always the poorest of the poor, whose lives serve no purpose for the state, until they enter the bars-world. Licensed predators, and the system itself, control the rate at which they enter. The same matriculation-predators determine how long each unfortunate will be enslaved. The bureaucracy involved in incarceration is interconnected inextricably with the state and legal system. Lawyers and judges use the state’s legal enforcement muscle to trap individual victims in the Written Law fishnet. Victims of the abattoir are processed into the gaping maw of punishment, while the state and legal system cominute, ferment, and extract the diurnal batch of fresh flesh.”

“If you can’t pay the bribe, don’t do the crime.” The peddler quipped.

“Only too true.” The wicked fool said. “Prey that can’t or won’t pay enough to bribe the contemptible judge, prosecuter, and lawyer go to jail. The prison system, private as well as government run, is further organized predation. Wardens, guards, select-inmates, politicians, thugs, suppliers, beneficiaries, investors, contractors, parole boards, lawyers, religionists, and consumers of prison products are all individual parts of the exploitation. In prisons, private and public, convicts are paid virtually nothing but are worth to their captors an annual salary comparable to that of a clerk, typist, purchasing agent, etc. every year. The prison system is only superficially disconnected from the legal infrastructure that places unfortunates within its grasp. Caedere wealth unites the system, as it does all predators. Judges are paid additional to give harsh sentences for minor offenses. Lawyers have virtually complete control over how much bleeding the prisoner-prey does for the other predators. Blood-letting is ascribed on a lawyer-judge-pol’s whim. Lawyers make the laws, interpret the laws, administer the laws, and put those in prison who, they feel, do not merit freedom by those laws. It’s a great scam, and works very well to enrich the legal herd. The penetentiary is an evolving caricature of the Zionist World Order (ZWO). A ZWO penetentiary state, resembling Rothschild’s occupied Palestine, is the prototypical model for the coming planetary totalitarian state.”

“Where do the priests fit in?” The peddler asked.

“Organized religion is the fourth group of major human predators I want to mention.” The wicked fool said. “As long as Man has existed, some simians have wished to appear more knowledgeable than their fellows. Ever since Man first began noticing the veil between life and death there has been questions about possible life on the other side of the veil. These two characteristics of Man were an excellent opportunity for a swindle. Shamans, priests, doctors and lawyers pounced upon that opportunity. Organized religion, always a swindle, evolved from mushroom dreams, clandestine penis-sucking desires, and probably some adulation of deviant extra-terrestrial warlords or early super-hominids. Semitic priests installed the current abomination, using homosexuality and Amanita muscaria visions of conversations with dead people for its genesis. They possibly placed the newer form of bondage into the framework of vacuity left as extraterrestrial or hominid-overlord enslavement of evolving simians dissolved.”
“Do you believe in flying saucers too?” The peddler asked. “Or are you satisfied with just casting aspersions on God and Darwin?”
“What I have to say does not change in value whether outstanding hominids, extra-terrestrial life, or earlier digital simulations happened here or not.” The wicked fool said. “Even if you are a staunch believer in the science religion today, these are all plausible ideas. One cannot deny the existence of data, artifacts, and engineering feats that negate many of the recognized beliefs of today’s science religion. Contemporary science religion still cannot answer the most important questions of existence. Science religion precludes possible avenues to valuable knowledge by proscribing necessary education. Far too many inconvenient archaeological discoveries exist. Science religion and mysticism both stand in the way of satisfying plausible explanations of how we arrived. Most mystical and some of current anthropological explanations are pure bullshit. Why we must still endure the death-worshippers is the salient issue. I am simply postulating a most-reasonable explanation for the inharmonious picture we have of Sumerian documentation, the 11,600 BCE Middle East structures, rh negative blood groups, and the other overwhelming panoply of apparently contradictory archaeological evidence and questions. A species that maintains unquestioning belief in unsubstantiated conjecture, religious nonsense, or bad science is at risk. The mysticism-mongers and psychotic people that push God and ”other-world” swindles are currently more than just simple archaic “schroomers” and Semitic pederastic predators. Their death-worshipping followers number in the billions. Such large numbers of collectively demented people can have potentially devastating consequences for the planet.”
“So, do you think we evolved exclusively by Darwinian selection?” The peddler asked.
“I would not rule it out, but the evidence is lacking on both sides of the argument.” The wicked fool said. “In the absence of fossil evidence to the contrary, we are better-advised to consider the Homo sapiens sapiens of today as a possible simulation or a transhuman hybrid of extra-terrestrial and more primitive hominid.”
“Well. I don’t see how that makes us created in the image of God.” The peddler said. “But, it doesn’t help the Darwinian natural selection argument much either.”
“You’re right on both sides.” The wicked fool said. “Although I am a biophysicist and not a theoretical or atomic physicist, I do know that much of the “simulated universe” thought is based on second and third generation double-slit experiments. In these experiments, much of the “observer effect” on the “collapsing of the wave function into a particle” explanation may be due to faulty controls in experiment construction. The experimenters may fail to adequately separate and isolate measurement affects or account for the imperceptible growing wavelength due to right angle magnetic interference by the “observer”. If light is composed of punctuated energy levels proportional to frequency, as the wavelength increases and decreases the particle-wave continuum may also change. Whether light behaves as a particle or a wave may depend on the energy it contains at the pre and post measured moment. If so, further simulation theory infrastructure could fall like a house of cards. At this time however, other quantum mechanical observation and mathematics still abets simulation theory. So, simulation, extraterrestrial genetic engineering, or pure Darwinian biology are all plausible explanations for our existence.”
“You’re leaving out the Biblical explanation.” The peddler said.
“Yes. I am.” The wicked fool replied. “To explain my thought, I’d like to use the word “church” to cover all religions, churches, cathedrals, synagogues, temples, or mosques, that encompass and describe all death-worshipping cults. “Churches”, like their associated edifices, are pavilions of the purposeless. I’ll use the word “Church” to also represent all organized neo “extra-terrestrial” enslavers. The “Church” will serve as my word for the wanna-be emulators of agro-managerial hydraulic despotisms. In lieu of corvee labor, the “Church” demands a 10% tithe or more of its victims’ income every year. It takes the extortion as bribery to get the corrupt jurist “Jehovah” to grant a purported zombie life after death. Without even the slightest evidence, naïve gullible dupes and their victim ilk place faith in a promise of impending suborned zombiehood in return for payment of caedere wealth, i.e. gold, or fiat paper. The tithe or celestial bribe can be thought of as the sucker’s symbolic blood. Defrauding ignorant believers into trusting in an afterlife is bad enough, but the predation doesn’t end there. The “Churches” look to the predatory state for protection, and they give 100% of their subjective & moral support to that vile construct of lawyers and pols.”
“Ayn Rand’s “Attila and the Witchdoctor”.” The peddler said.
“That analogy is as effective today, as it was in Constantine’s 325 AD Nicaea.” The wicked fool said. “Starting in Nicaea, the Catholic Church, and for its entire two millenial existence, has almost never acted contrary to the rapacious state. Their collaboration springs from the churches’ need for both protection and tax-exempt status. The state may rape, pillage and murder church parishoners, and usually does. The aiding and abetting church blesses the plundering, encouraging victims to accept the state’s bludgeoning, stoically. Between Rothschild’s murderous taxes and the Church’s tithes it’s almost like believing in miracles to accept as true that humanity survives.”
“The church has nearly always taken the state’s perspective against believers?” The peddler asked, surprised. “I’ve always heard the opposite.”
“You’ve heard the same lies and propaganda that the pre-zombie citizens have heard and believe.” The wicked fool said. “Why do you think the Emperor Constantine convened the Council of Nicaea? What makes the lie doubly hurtful is that subsequent to the state’s pillage, the church itself swindles its believers for what they have left that was hidden from the state. It doesn’t end there! The narcotic faith that the church sells continues squeezing out believer’s blood even after their junkie prey’s death. It’s parasitic on their victims posterity as well, taking virginities, sexual preferences, inheritances, and bequests without shame.”
“Spiritual inheritance taxes.” The peddler said.
“The endowments are ostensibly to intercede with the sadistic control-freak fiend and his sycophants in the sky. The heavenly subornation is to extract a negotiated promise of bliss on the behalf of an earthly-recalcitrant, dearly-departed’s future, now in zombie never-never land.” The wicked fool said. “All these aforementioned atrocities are still not the worst. An often overlooked source of enthrallment-rape is how the diabolical church will steal parishoners’ children’s spiritual freedom. It can take from 20 years to an entire lifetime for people to rid themselves of the narcotic of superstitious cowardly belief in irresponsible mystical nonsense. What idea could be more dishonorable, masochistic, enslaving, and pusillanimous than that one which these “other-world” religions sell? Some simians are never liberated and continue believing the mystical manure until the very second death takes them. Thoughts, dreams, nightmares and fears of a purported afterlife, zombiehood, eternal damnation in a lake of fire, etc. haunt innocents all their lives, unto the 3rd and 4th generation of the true believers.”
“Really bizarre.” The peddler agreed.
“It’s hard to accept how anything could be more foolish than to believe in having a place reserved for one in an afterlife on the basis of having bought a predator’s self-serving prevarication.” The wicked fool said, and continued. “To have that sinecure earned by caedere money and having something in your pocket called “faith” is even crazier. Religious dupes, however, believe exactly that. They accept, as a fact, that they can achieve eternal life if they pay money and have faith, believe, in a god or in the capability of that god’s son to grant them zombiehood. The only logical place reserved for such victims, anywhere else, would be an insane asylum.”
“Churches will do.” The peddler said.

Chapter Seventeen
“Having our mortal rationality and conduct at the mercy of the vagaries of a cerebral salt solution is bad enough.” The wicked fool said. “One’s capacity, by that ephemeral rationality, a largely unknown consciousness, to influence some imaginary celestial fiend into deciding whether we should have eternal life, could only play in a theater of the absurd. Our animal fate, sadly, is determined by Entropy, commensals, and transient concentrations of solute in the brain’s constantly-re-equilibrating solution. It does not matter if that brain solution cum consciousness is held within the cranium of a believer or non-believer. To have that fate also determine eternal effects by influencing a mystical monster is really stretching a leg to atrocious proportions.”
“But what is really amazing is that billions of people do indeed believe it.” The peddler added.
“Such a proposition goes far beyond the mere ridiculous.” The wicked fool said. “It is perhaps gratuitous to say that such plasticity of will also could hardly be any attribute of a “just & loving” ruler. Unfortunately though, for the planet’s entire living flora and fauna, you’re right. Seven billion simians do indeed believe such rubbish. One wonders just how many of the 1.6 billion Catholics in the world the super-predatory Vatican hierarchy would kill to make Revelations’ Armageddon come true. Other death-worshipping predators too are poised, ready to burn us all in a thermonuclear war, to prove the validity of their hideous prophesies. The churches’ exploitation of such demented people and their demented victims can only be described as an example of dementia using dementia to propagate non-biosustainable predation.”
“What about the Bible?” The peddler asked. “They say it’s a sacred text, inspired by “God”.”
“Religious predators push many obscene books. The Bible, the Talmud, the Torah, and the Quran are the most well-known.” The wicked fool said. “All four are supposed to be inspired by this “God” monster. There are many other ancient texts, papers and treatises available with respect to these archives of plagiarized perversion. Predator obsession, replete with jargon, ritual and torture, descends into the most bizarre of practices, reducing believers to base bestiality, horribly traumatising, torturing, and killing innocent children. One need only peruse John Calvin’s “Canons of Dort”, one time, to realize what kind of maniacs are raising billions of todays children. Religious nausea and prophecies are vomited, incessantly & projectally, by these greasy little “men of god” parasites. It has prostituted the Main Stream Media as well as the Internet. Mystical nonsense is ubiquitous in both of these broadcasting channels. What makes the demeaning beliefs so traumatic is that there may be historical remnants, surviving from extinct civilizations, predating Sumer, included in these offensive books, appearing as evidence of mystical authority. Misunderstood, those historical remnants influence death-worshippers yet today.”
“And morality?” The peddler asked.
“People speak of morality, even a “higher morality”, as if such a reality could arise. Objective morality does not exist.” The wicked fool said. “Unless we are simulations, programmed to respect certain constraints, the word serves as a manipulative tool. What most people consider morality is a conditioned, illogical, imposition of limits in response to fear. There is no way we can be tangibly moral creatures. The only moral creature, that has ever existed, was single-celled cyanophyta – consuming only water, light and air to exist. All other non-photosynthetic and non-saprophytic organisms & multicellular animal life, each and every one of us, must rob and kill to survive and reproduce our kind. We are quickly dispatching to oblivion anything in creation that manifests biosustainability, i.e. even a semblance of natural morality.”
“So, we must be plants or mushrooms to be moral?” The peddler asked.
The wicked fool did not answer the peddler’s inane question but said. “Morality is bullshit! There is no ultimate meaning. One day, Entropy will comminute us into infinite numbers of specks of quivering dust. Natural morality is amorality to most, and it has ordained our right to kill as much as Nature has created in us a capacity to kill. The state’s legal pretexts, notwithstanding, prohibit citizens from raping, pillaging and murdering. There is certainly a good amount of pragmatism in the interest of individual well-being presented there. The state’s ploys, however, like Written Law, are highly inconsistent. Especially so, since such interdictions are not often applicable to the minions of the state or those persons in possession of large quantities of caedere wealth.”
“And the state prohibits those very acts of violence that are needed to protect us from the dangers of state hegemony.” The peddler observed.
“Absolutely! Plus, state proscriptions of crimes of moral turpitude are virtually always turned into meaningless obfuscations by a well-oiled legal practitioner.” The wicked fool said. “Most laws are meant to be easily and unwittingly broken to snare the poor, weak and mal-adjusted. Instead of a quick & painless euthanasia, once a capital law is breached, state-sanctioned predators find ample gain by exploiting helpless miscreants with socially-sanctioned punishment and slavery. Arbitrary enforcement of contrived traps, by the state, only tends to justify bloodletting of state sycophants by citizens in response. We MUST kill to survive. Entropy demands it. The question is. . . when, where and how do we start? More to the point, perhaps, is when do we stop?”
“How does Entropy demand it?” The peddler asked.
“Entropy is the ultimate power. Even trillions of years ago, or more, when nothing existed but frozen vacuum, Entropy was a force with which to be reckoned. It was at zero measurability, but ever there, waiting, relentless, endless, ubiquitous, and constant. Entropy demands thermodynamics accommodate it and allow the disorder to increase. Therefore, to be more than constant, at zero measurability, Entropy needed matter and energy. Entropy needed to bring matter and energy into existence.” The wicked fool said. “Even if Shakespeare was right, and we are simulations, where did that original matter and energy come from, if not via Entropy’s magic?”
“God?”
“There is no other god but Entropy – Chaos.” The wicked fool answered. “Postulation of another “God” just propounds two questions where only one had earlier existed. You’re making the problem more difficult.”
“Why is there no other god than Entropy?” The peddler asked.
“By definition, if any other god existed, Entropy would eviscerate it before it rose to any prominence. Intelligent Design proponent’s arguments prove their supporters to be as pompously ignorant and narcissistic as arguments for an Earth-centered solar-system did its proponents in antiquity. Occam’s razor slices “God-Jehovah” out of the “How?” equation with alacrity.” The wicked fool said and continued. “Disorder controls EVERYTHING. If any god, other than meaningless Entropy, exists then it would appear as an impotent maniac enslaved to Entropy. It too would be a mostly grave negative influence incapable of causing and promoting little other than disorder, pain, destruction and death.”
“Something like Life? The peddler said.
“Right.” The wicked fool said. “Only Life stands weakly opposed to Entropy.”
“Life is God’s enemy?” The peddler asked.
“Yes. But, it is not in any sentient way on Entropy’s part, and fearful friend on Life’s part.” The wicked fool said. “To say that life has no apparent meaning is not to say it has no possible value. The order that exists in water, and in Life’s manifestation of it, is the only weapon that exists against Entropy, our true God. Unless we are all to be ultimately reduced to immeasurable puddles of infinitesimally small particles, dancing around in random spasmodic Brownian lurches, Life is our only chance at ever finding meaning. Protecting Life, maximizing species diversity, while attempting to reduce ubiquitous suffering, could serve as a viable aspiration. Despite the negative press thrown at persons with global concerns, “Mission Biosustainability”, “Love of Life”, remains the only “divine” calling.”
“A religion?” The peddler asked.
“Why not?” The wicked fool said. ““Other World” religionists have obviously given up on Life, worshipping its antithesis. They choose indifference, ritual, jargon, hysteria, collective psychoses, war, mob democracies, and caedere symbols, among others, as their beacons, not a human mission. They as much as admit that their contrived deities are as demented as themselves. These bogus gods are nothing more than savage simian nightmare-constructs and possible throwbacks to vague recollections of outstanding hominids or extra-terrestrial overlords. Religionists choose to believe in an absurd Dante’esque post death paradise cum Hell, the site’s existence of which they have absolutely not the slightest indication or evidence.”
“Religion is Hell.” The peddler quipped.
“A human being is a monkey with a mission.” The wicked fool said. “Monkeys without missions or aspirations are subhumans. If humans are to survive, our collective legitimate missions-occupations must be congruent with both planetary custodianship and objectives that include working to destroy the State.”
“Humans are a plague on planetary life, a virus.” The peddler said. “What if the mission is the destruction of humanity?”
“Auto-speciecide?” The wicked fool said.
“Yes.” The peddler said. “Wouldn’t that be the epitome of biosustainability?”
“An autospeciecidal human being?” The wicked fool asked himself.
“Gives a new perspective on misanthropy, doesn’t it?” The peddler said, with a vicious twist.
“If such beings do exist, what would cause them?” The wicked fool asked.
“You need to ask; after the way you were talking a little while ago about your distaste for co-habiting with the human race?” The peddler asked. “A man, having lived on this planet for fifty years or so, still an amicus humani generis, could be non-certifiable, but not likely. Even God tried killing us all off once.”
“He clearly failed.” The wicked fool said. “But, there must be reason for such purported antipathy.”
“You KNOW the reason. You’re just trying not to see it.” The peddler said. “And you called me willfully ignorant!”

“I did?”

“Yes. You called me a repugnant, cowardly, shallow, ignorant, and a non-sentient enslaved bully!” The peddler replied.

“I need to be more charitable with my accusations.” The wicked fool said. “Even if they are true.”

“Yes.” The peddler agreed. “You certainly do.”

“What reason am I trying not to see?” The wicked fool asked. “Relieve me of my burden of ignorance.”
“You hate the human race!” The peddler replied. “Don’t you see the contradiction?”
“I would not call that a contradiction.” The wicked fool said.
“You wouldn’t!?” The peddler shouted. “You pretend you are trying to save the human race while hating it! What would you call it, if not a contradiction?”
“It’s a paradox.” The wicked fool countered weakly.
“Bullshit! Semantics.” The peddler said.
“No. It is a paradox. It’s not just semantics.” The wicked fool said, gathering force. “In the first place, I am not simply pretending that I’m trying to save my species. I truly am! All the contradictions you see are apparent, not actual.”
“Misanthropy, like all hatred, springs from fear, and you hate and fear the human race as much as everyone else does.” The peddler said.
“I find the majority of simians to be despicable creatures, especially the human predators. Just because the vast majority are contemptible wretches does not mean all are or that I do not think the human race is worth saving. My position is paradoxical, not a contradiction.” The wicked fool reiterated.
“When you are considering such large numbers, I don’t see much of a difference.” The peddler said.
“That’s because you are the one now stereotyping, and you have no hope that humans will ever be able to separate the wheat from the chaff.” The wicked fool said. “If we remove the super-predators and a good portion of our parasitic numbers, revivifying what’s left of the planet, we may become a species that has some value for the planet.”
“And the predatory poor?” The peddler asked.
“The line of human destiny is read in the palm the poor.” The wicked fool said. “If the CoCs do not elevate the poor, both will fail. If they fail, humanity fails. Nature will assist our survival.”
“So.” The peddler asked. “You are assuming such a creature, a autospeciecide, exists or will exist?”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “If a simian accepts biosustainability, anarchy, or both as its mission, that creature is no longer a common monkey. It is not even a common human, but it is an outstanding human, a superlative among missioned humans. The main reason for the quality difference among men is also infinitely personal – our raison d’etre – survival. A secondary reason, nearly equal in importance, because it means protecting our planetary interconnections, is the survival of our “also-rans”.”
“I’m beginning to see your position.” The peddler said. “I suppose, if the second reason should get to be more strongly felt than the first reason . .”
“Clearly.” The wicked fool said. “ . . . It would cause a misanthropic immune reaction. Such as is a strong possibility (or excuse) someday with cyborgs or artificial intelligence.”
“The biggest enemy of Life on the planet today is Man.” The peddler said.
“Man has wiped out over half of planetary species in the past 40 years.” The wicked fool said. “At the rate we are going, we, ourselves, probably won’t last two more decades. Our species is overdue for extinction.” The wicked fool then muttered, still thinking about the autospeciecide. “How would you ever stop a creature like that?”
The peddler seemed to read the wicked fool’s mind, was thinking similarly, or heard him, and he said. “That’s assuming you would want to.”
The wicked fool did not appear to hear the peddler’s cogent comment but said. “He probably wouldn’t squander his time on predators. He would go for the jugular immediately, after he had both the desire and the wherewithal.”
The peddler suggested. “You probably would not find him in a CoC.”

Chapter Eighteen
“You might.” The wicked fool said. “But, disenchanted, highly critical of lethargy, and only pre-metamorphosis. We’re not talking here about just a common antisocial personality. A true autospeciecide would wait, bide his time, not start his misanthropic crusade, until he had wings, the wherewithal to do it. He would probably work alone too, until he was prepared. Probably a super-biologist. Such a person could be extremely dangerous, a Mao, Hitler, Stalin or Pol Pot. Possessed by a divine mission and willing to sacrifice himself in the process. . .”
“Not to worry.” The peddler said. “The world today is filled with missioned humans that are trying, or ostensibly trying, to make a better world for we humans.”
“THAT is EXACTLY what concerns me.” The wicked fool said. “These do-gooders are myopic weaklings. Too squeamish to kill for Love of Life, they are not custodians! They profess to great love for humanity, amicus humani generis, but they kill, ignore, and care less about the rest of the biosphere. Such provincial thinking is destroying the planet’s Life. These politically-correct eco-dunces are not biologists or they would understand that we are all connected. It’s sad, but that is the generic simian. These well-meaning blinkered people are not aware that without the biosphere the people they are protecting too are being adjuncts to extinction. They are not displaying love, but are actually exhibiting a lack of sufficient love, at least a lack of enlightened Love. As the non-simian biosphere dies, so do our spiritual appendages. It’s what’s happening to us now, the world over. We are growing colder and colder as true Love becomes harder and harder to find. Suicide is easier to contemplate, and rigor-mortis approaches. That is probably why autospeciecides, starved for animal innocence but distraught to protect it, someday, will come forth.”
“Enough talk about autospeciecidals.” The peddler said. “Every time I think about that word I see in my mind’s eye those stupid puppet-whores that become Presidents in your past country. Those criminal maniacs that get to put their finger on the thermonuclear button, literally, make me nauseous. Let’s talk more about demented religionists.”
“Okay.” The wicked fool said. “Other world” religionists like Luciferians, Christians, Jews, and Muslims are far more prevalent and powerful in this world than humans.”
“Why have they not succeeded in making the world a better place?” The peddler asked.
“For the same reason that they and super-predators are not human.” The wicked fool answered. “Death-worship precludes their being custodians, as it prevents their having a mission. Their gods are 100% imaginary. Death is their dream.”
“Couldn’t you say that death is their mission?” The peddler asked.
“I could not.” The wicked fool said. “It demeans the significance of the word. All of these death-worshipping simians will achieve their pseudo-objective’s realization, without any effort or sacrifice. It comes to all automatically. As a goal, it would destroy the value in aspiration. It would be like dividing a number by zero, i.e. infinite solutions. No. The dream of death is not a mission. It is a feigned repugnance of survival, a great weakness, a dearth of love. Death is an inevitability, a tool of Entropy, a separation with which all Life must deal, and that condition to which none need aspire.”
“Okay.”
“Most simians lack the will to accept a true mission.” The wicked fool said. “Perhaps, because the chances for failure are exponentially higher than the likelihoods for success. For others, creature comforts and social acceptance are much more important concepts than preventing or achieving some abstruse possibility that may never occur in ones’ own lifetime. Nevertheless, biosustainability, custodianship, MUST be our specie’s main cathexis if our species and planetary multicellular life are to continue.”
“That’s understandable.” The peddler said.
“What makes Homo sapiens so terrible, deserving of extinction, is our callous indifference to other life.” The wicked fool said. “We have become Nature’s scar tissue, formed in the interest of surviving the toxic medium in which we live. That insensibility is what makes us so despicable as a species. But, I have lived long enough to see that the human spirit is not all heartless, nerveless collagen. It can exhibit a divine quality. That divine spark is what we must ferret out, worship, and do everything we can to accentuate and make collective. I believe we can do it, using an emotion that we have heretofore denigrated with casual sex and kindred-survival needs. We cannot survive ourselves without love for all Life.”
“Even the life we must remove?” The peddler asked.
“Especially the life we must remove.” The wicked fool said.
“Why especially?” The peddler asked.
“Every time we kill, if we are to survive as humans, we must evaluate our motives.” The wicked fool said. “That requires more love and more courage than does just the slapping of a mosquito. To love life, to remove suffering, to remove the predatory life that causes us to suffer is to be very strong and fearless. That requires even more love.”
“I see.” The peddler said.
“The mission of humanity is the administration of great love, custodianship.” The wicked fool said. “With great love comes great strength and great responsibility. It is with such strength, kindness, that humans are to be Naturally Selected. We do not know why Nature picked us as fit for custodianship of Her creation. So far it has been one of Her greatest mistakes and may cost Her Her Life. It does not have to remain a terrible mistake. Planetary custodianship is Life’s greatest mission. Custodianship is our only chance at any kind of divinity. Custodianship is the protection of all the mega-multi-faceted aspects of protoplasm. The Great Pontibus Bridges are the best action we can take in this regard. Expanding the planet’s radius with these structures will prove, perhaps not just to ourselves, that our custodianship focus is genuine. The Great Bridges allow us to be the architects of Heaven, creators of Life, the quintessential mission holders.”
“And the second highest missions?” The peddler asked.
“The 2nd highest missions in life are those concerned with destroying the State, its traitorous minions, and hangers-on.” The wicked fool answered. “There are many missions subordinated to these two largest categories. The more congruent a mission is to either of the two great ones, the more important that mission is to all Life, and the closer we come to divinity, if it exists.”
“And forget religion entirely?” The peddler asked.
“If people cannot live without a collective psychosis, a religious dementia, of some type, then the religion they choose must not be death-worshipping but Life-affirming.” The wicked fool said. “It must be allied with these two great missions, Biosustainability and Anarchy. We must also change the current focus for attaining honor and sexual love, i.e. caedere wealth. Wealth can still be used as a means of gaining human affection and glory, but it must proceed not from caedere symbols but from animans responsibility. Seemingly overnight, a value change like I am proposing, would regain for the planet a salubrious path.”
“Re-orienting all predation into custodianship.” The peddler said. “In one fell-swoop.”
“Exactly, and it would be global in its impact. Without: 1. the Pontibus, or 2. a worldwide system of cheap energy, or, 3. extensive preparations for the great dying, there will ultimately come a defensive need, if we are to survive, for a bounty on all major predators. Most of those predators are the death-worshippers. Demented religious books like the Bible, the Talmud, the Torah, or the Quran will continue to poison humanity resulting, ultimately, in a fatal malaise. Allowing our species to be controlled by predatory caedere wealth, death-worshipping religions, Written Law, and political sanction is a prescription for human extinction.” The wicked fool said. “A world of law-abiding citizens & god-fearing men is the greatest enemy of biosustainable civilization that exists.”
“That’s about as crazy a statement as I’ve heard all week.” The peddler quipped.
“Thank-you.” The wicked fool replied. “Here’s more. Revulsion of survival is inherent in all aspects of Written Law and “other-world” religions. These deviant institutions glorify only caedere values, even as they profess the contrary. Death-worship is the sub rosa totalitarian modus operandi of all “other-world” maniacs. They are fascinated with death. Luciferians, Christians, Jews and Muslims are sick, death-worshipping savages that menace human survival. In the West, Christians are the most well-known, probably because they are the most nauseating, obnoxious, and always in your face. They call it witnessing – trying to convince themselves of their demented dogma’s correctness by verbally re-beating it on the ears of innocents.”
“Evangelism.”
“Yes. That’s what they call one of the most loathsome symptoms of their disease. It manifests the very epitome of caustic envy.” The wicked fool said. “They are no better than the super-predators, because they are drugged by their insatiable envy of these caedere maniacs. They would do anything, give anything, to be in the same position. Religious predators envy the supreme super-predators above all others.”
“Evangelists.”
“ . . . .are some of the worst examples of slaves to caedere-envy. The extreme super-predators, the fractional banking titans, the Zionist Jews, are the cause of virtually all this religious predator-envy.” The wicked fool said. “The banking industry’s predation is by far the greatest in terms of caedere wealth acquired, possessed, and that is used to parasitize. This group is in charge of producing all paper money and eternal debt. Having no intrinsic value, only symbols of symbolic death, it represents pure blood theft. Consequently, it has forced the debt and slavery of virtually everyone wishing to buy or sell. The caedere opulence of the banking cartels lays waste the bankers’ lives and the lives of their enslaved. Caedere wealth and those in unfettered pursuit of it are responsible for every nation-state and every negative influence on biosustainability.”
“Why is that so?” The peddler asked.
“Surrounded by their symbols of death, the caedere wealthy cannot see beyond that venal veil and into the harsh reality that is life. Caedere wealth, filthy lucre, holds for some people a fascination far beyond its market value.” The wicked fool said. “Fractional banking has produced intermarrying dynasties of bankers, lasting for centuries, Rothschild-Bauer, Sforza, Oppenheimer, Schiff, Warburg, de Medici, Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, etc.. These dynasties can make or break countries, as well as decent people, on a whim, forever. No state is immune. Banker power is virtually omnipotent. The State’s governmental arm does the bidding of the bankers and aggrandizes itself by so doing. Unless the treacherous pols genuflect to the bankers, the pols can neither betray, rape, pillage, nor murder their own citizenry, nor even other countries’ citizenry, with impunity.”
“Sad.”
“Isn’t it? Fractional banking, debt-based currency, is nothing short of legal fraud.” The wicked fool said. “Any gain derived from fractional banking currency generation mechanisms is also fraudulent. Caedere fortunes realized via such avenues can be considered illegitimate and forfeit. Debts resulting from such loans should be considered null and void.”
“Just stop making your payments, and you’ll see how null and void they are.” The peddler quipped.
“That’s because of the illusion, resulting from the interconnection of bankers with the pols and lawyers.” The wicked fool said. “They aid corrupt arrangements and fail to enforce the needed penalties. Since all paper currency is only symbolic of symbolic death and derived from fractional banking, there are no real debtors. There are no real creditors. There is only officially generated subterfuge – illusion of value. Crypto-currencies and CoC fiat paper are the only possible genuine money today.”
“You feel all bankers are predators?” The peddler asked.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Smaller bankers than the dynastic thugs controlling the money supply are just glorified clerks, pol-sanctioned bunko artists, and con men. They hoodwink everyone into believing they are the contrary. Local community bankers are simple, small-minded office pogues that benefit from facilitating the fraud perpetrated on everyone by the bigger predators. Religious despots hoodwink fools into believing in an afterlife and a super-boogieman – “God”. Bankers emulate these god-mongering swindlers. Both sell a similar fraud that they have the power to control aspects of an imaginary abyss that has absolutely no actual value. The same hackneyed cons have been going full speed for millennia. Bank holidays expose the fraud, but it’s soon forgotten.”
“Very few people ever catch on to them.” The peddler said.
“That’s true.” The wicked fool replied. “In 2008, the world was hemorrhaging. Every bank in the world was bankrupt. Instead of going out of business, they gave the taxpayers of the world a cup and told the pols to force the taxpayers to bleed into it. The pols did so, and the banks will now drink taxpayer children’s blood for another few generations. The con works. It never fails. My biggest regret is that I went to Vietnam and killed honorable caedere weak people, when, I could have stayed at home and, with the same risk, killed politicians.”
“That’s strong language.” The peddler said.
“The courage to accept, and enforce the practice of, truthful ideas that are contrary to the frauds of these authorized miscreants and predators, is usually lacking.” The wicked fool said. “Practicing such courage, individually, effectively, means probable imprisonment or death to the hero.”
“That’s not hard to understand.” The peddler said.
“Pursuing the truthful conception,” The wicked fool said, “with any degree of success, can also condemn one to the condition of a fugitive.”
“So. Now I know the truth, but it matters very little. I’m still a victim, prey to the predators.” The peddler said.
“Not so.” The wicked fool said. “You are now much freer and more powerful. You now know that there is no valid morality apart from biosustainability. Striking a blow for freedom and survival, even if it is your last deed ever, will only be considered wrong by slaves and incorrigibly ignorant simians. The shame-slinging fear is over for you. That knowledge gives you great power.”
“Killing a super-predator is not wrong?” The peddler asked.
“No. The wicked fool said. “Nor is it “good”. I don’t think there is any deed that humans might do in the interest of removing a super-predator’s caedere power that would be a blow to Nature. It may be dangerous, but morally neutral, and all other things being equal, most likely bio-positive. Other than base pusillanimity or unmitigated greed there is no justification for refraining from killing predatory bankers, lawyers and pols whenever they are encountered.”
“So. We are all greedy cowards if we don’t rush right out and murder the local mayor!?” The peddler asked.
“No. We are all either greedy, or cowardly, or both if we can’t, but that sums it up, fairly well.” The wicked fool said. “The lawyers, pols, and bankers here have recently made a law that robs the locals of a portion of their lives – money. The pols are enforcing the law with the power they gave themselves to tax. They are protection-racket thieves, essentially, and they should die for their behavior! I am a civilized person, however, and I am prevented, by the state, from using violence. If I wish to fight the tax, instead of killing the perpetrators, I must pay one of their brothers in the legal fraternity of state-licensed thieves to negate it. I am beaten either way. You see? No matter how you choose to view it, these lawyers, pols, and bankers are predators and must die in the interest of my survival. They are saved, however, because I am a coward, and because I do not wish to know that my daughter will go hungry and cold, when I am placed in prison or killed as penalty for performing the righteous act of predicide. If I was certain that my pousada and my daughter would not be forfeit as further recompense for my contemplated “crime”, I might not hesitate to off those bastards. I also may be using my daughter as an excuse for my cowardly inaction disguised as constitutive survival lesion. I must tell you, however, that having this conversation with you takes a great deal more courage for me than going off on a virtually futile killing spree.”

Chapter Nineteen
“You’re serious?” The peddler asked.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Most Homo sapiens sapiens members are just like us. It is the reason why the species will probably go extinct – too weak and cowardly to be selected for survival. If you wish to change the uncivilized things in this world Written Law, the state, and religious proscriptions against violence prevent you. You have no alternative but to take matters in hand and act with violence or be a part of the problem and a victim. Were you not either greedy or a coward, like me, and you succeeded in the mayor’s removal, and were not cut down immediately, you might go over to the bank and kill the manager. If the judge and the priest were there, you might kill them too.”
“You’re stark, raving mad!” The peddler said.
“Of course. But you already knew that. The locals told you so.” The wicked fool jibed.
“And they were spot on!” The peddler said, enthusiastically. “You dissembled well but not well enough to make it stick.”
“Ahh.” The wicked fool said. “You’re only seeing the minor crazy.”
“You’re crazier than that?!” The peddler asked. “I don’t really see how that could be possible.”
“Of course, it is.” The wicked fool said. “We are both much more insane than the scenarios we’ve just been postulating and imagining.”
“How is that?” The peddler asked.
“We’re electing to survive, for the moment, doing nothing to help our individual freedom and survival.”
“Okay.”
“What about our posterity and our “also-rans”? With such greed and cowardice, how do we further the essential missions of biosustainability and anarchy.” The wicked fool explained. “As we proved earlier, together, if we avoid biosustainability, there is no other way of existing as a species on planet Earth today unless one accepts madness as one’s constant inveterate companion. I have tried very hard to make you see that there is absolutely no biological or physical basis for the existence of either free will or personal responsibility for our actions. We survive only under constant auto deception.”
“We either risk our lives, well-being, and freedom or accept membership in a collective psychosis in order to survive?” The peddler said. “Damned either way.”
“Yes. Living under the dominion of a collective psychosis, much graver than that of religion and Written Law, means that almost everyone is comfortable with existing within the madness of impending doom. If we are most likely but holograms, as Shakespeare and quantum physicists intimate, then we exist in illusion, and that makes our values vapid and illusory. Using enslaving caedere currency, believing the caedere illusion of value, is a symptom of that collective lunacy.” The wicked fool said. “As custodians, there exists slightly more hope for a healthy consciousness & survival if we unite into Communities of Consensus, CoCs. As members of a CoC, we can bury our collective dementia. We can drown our avarice and cowardice in the culture of courage that dwells there in the diurnal face of near certain death. Any simian, especially a member of a freedom assemblage, like a Community of Consensus cell, that cannot kill a predator does not deserve the name of “human being”, Homo sapiens eusapiens.”
“And how do we find such entities?” The peddler asked.
“I do not think the violent CoCs exist yet.” The wicked fool said. “The current Communities of Consensus, that I know of, are doomed. The infernal state cannot abide anarchy, just as fire will not abide water, or the USA Emma Goldman. The members of passive peaceful communes are living in a dream world if they think they can institute a functional enduring anarchy by throwing flowers at the state agents that inevitably will come to kill them. Passivism will not work. The ZSA has a long list of those they have already destroyed. Violent CoCs will arise, hopefully, surreptitiously and spontaneously, due to some great disruption to normal human life. That great shock will catapult the Communities of Consensus into the tenuous position of being “CoCs or death”.”
“Shock, such as what?” The peddler asked.
The wicked fool said. “There are many possibles. Bankers might get uncontrollably avaricious and rob EVERYONE of EVERYTHING. They may start a great war and declare martial law, confiscating all existing caedere wealth that is not already owned by them, etc. Perhaps a great flood or earthquake will be the precipitating force. As you may know, men flock to any place that they see a way to avoid watching their children starve to death. Most people are content to accept the status quo, no matter how Spartan it may be, as long as their job, home, family, weekends, and otherwise happy banal lives experience no negative changes. Give them a great disruption, (environmental, economic, political, etc.), and they will throw the Molotovs with abandon.”
“Communities of Consensus, (CoCs), will rise to that event, you feel?” The peddler said.
“They must!” The wicked fool said. “The non-violent attempts at anarchy are already here. All that is necessary is a change to communities that can survive the search and destroy behavior of the super-predator fraternity. The CoCs will use the coming crisis to take physical possession of military arms, the remaining rain forests, mountains, savannas, lakes, rivers, oceans, wetlands, and more. CoCs must be willing to stake their lives on the environment’s successful protection. I’m also using the term “environment” in the general sense, not only in its usual “tree-hugging” context. CoCs will begin using guerilla tactics to destroy thugs, predators, and their parasitic sycophants everywhere found. The things I’m talking about are not simple fantasy . . . . Hollywood. There will be internecine rivalry, some by natural design, some ideological. Rivers will run red. Bodies will clog the storm drains and the river shallows. I have seen the results of such rivalry. I have seen bodies piled up and bulldozed. Nature smiles upon such characteristics of small human groups. Time is running out on “business as usual”. There are coming technological changes to society that humanity will not, cannot, stomach. They will also not set well with Nature. Soon, any human that does not wish to become a New World Order cyborg will need to seek out the limited protection of a CoC or starve.”
“You’re speaking about creeping artificial intelligence?” The peddler asked.
“And RFID chips.” The wicked fool said. “The frequencies, cell-phones use, are probably not yet capable of directly changing human consciousness. But the technology and frequencies can change, and they will soon do so. If some simian refuses to accept a cyborg modem in its body, frequencies from central points will solve the problem or do the job without the simian’s consent. Brain wave master oscillators will be here VERY shortly.”
“Transmitting orders from a central facility?” The peddler asked.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “If we are simulations, people will discover it. Our slavery may become difficult to maintain. Soon, simians will become life-support systems for cell phones. What we used to call telepathy will leave the realm of conjecture and become commonplace. Already, heavy holders of caedere wealth are not human. Unmitigated avarice is an essence-less subhuman quality. It is NOT a human quality. Cyborg status is only a small adjustment for many “essence-less” simians. The super-predators are insatiable hedonists, and their callous caedere-vacuuming behavior resembles that of the automatons they envision and emulate. Smaller bankers, lawyers and state minions follow in close pursuit like ducklings pursuing their mother.”
“The plight of working classes and disenfranchised means nothing to them.” The peddler said.
“Of course not!” The wicked fool said. “Pawns like us are cheap, and a simian life wasted is just a small cost of doing business. The super-predators have armies of public relations sycophants selling super-predator innocuousness to the working classes. Most of the lower and middle classes buy into the lies. Philanthropy, media extravaganzas, public speaking tours, smart propaganda, films, celebrities, etc. help diffuse the danger for the super-predators. The media deceives people into believing the predators are not vicious, greedy, betrayers of trust. Instead the propaganda portrays the super-predator community as lucky and smart fellows. It sells fraudulent, politically pretty messages, maintaining that the working classes can get to caedere Nirvana too, if they are lucky and smart. Anyone that speaks contrary to the lies is termed negative, stupid, lazy, and cowardly.”
“Or envious.” The peddler added.
“Yes, and even subversive and criminal, at times.” The wicked fool said. “The caedere super-wealthy’s entire existence is repugnant to an enlightened civilization. CoCs must remove them, wherever they are found. CoCs must not believe the lie that banking dynasties can be rehabilitated. Such promises, if tendered, are insidious and but subterfuge. They must be obliterated, entirely.”
“The custodian must care for the reclaimed planet until the last bit of life leaves?” The peddler asked. “There is to be no retirement?”
The wicked fool answered. “If a human is doing its job, as a custodian, there will be neither need nor desire to retire.”
“Death is enough retirement.” The peddler said. “I suppose.”
“For a healthy human, yes.” The wicked fool said. “If people are not murdered by doctors, they die because of feelings of futility, purposelessness, or of being trapped. The way for humans to achieve a complete life, filled with feelings of usefulness, is by accepting a new Weltanschauung from caedere to animans. What is needed to save and preserve our dying planet’s Life, is a way of translating predatory caedere wealth into animans units of biosustainability. Units of symbolic caedere death must go away forever and be replaced by animans units of life and symbolic life. Any genuine free-market that exists will be perverted in time back to oppression if the capital is caedere.”
“Can you give me an example” The peddler asked.
“Yes, but my solution’s concept for implementation is still somewhat inchoate. Practice among missioned humans will perfect it. Assume we have a dead object, a chair, created from a living tree by someone. The chair has a value.” The wicked fool explained and continued. “The value of the chair in caedere symbolism could be represented as worth $100. The value of the living tree in Amazonia, from which the chair was made, is currently valued at nearly zero caedere dollars. A live tree has great value, but current caedere economics does not reflect it, because we are not yet nearly dead from hunger, pollution, flash floods, deserts, oxygen dearth or CO2 surfeit, the tree’s natural purview. With a piece of the planet robbed, raped, and murdered, after 15 minutes of a chain saw brutalization, $100 of caedere value emerges, and infinite value is lost.”
“What you are saying is true.” The peddler said. “I’ve seen the devastation that these coboçlo wreak with their chain saws.”
The wicked fool said. “A new definition of money and wealth must be created to represent the symbol of a living tree. For example, the tree could be valued at a hypothetical 1000R animans while alive and valued at zero R animans if dead. A hypothetical living land turtle could be valued at 100 dollars animans or zero animans if dead, or a live tapir (valued at some other animans figure), etc.”
“You change nothing. The undeveloped raw material, dead, is still considered virtually valueless.” The peddler said.
“You’re right. All I’m doing is inflating a market value. As I said, my solution for implementation needs work.” The wicked fool said. “If some way could be instituted that allowed only surplus natural resources to be given animans value and scarce resources given caedere as prohibited value . . . .”
“Then, you’re talking about an ethical question of right and wrong, and a fatal inconsistency in your philosophy.” The peddler said.
“Not if someone, like a member of a CoC, is charged with protecting the resource.” The wicked fool said. “If the CoC loses animans money when and if a member’s protected-property responsibility dies, the member will lose CoC status too. If something beautiful & alive, non-simian, is lost it only activates an ethical question now. Why does it not activate a survival response?”
“It seems like it should. “The peddler said.
“Loss of viability responsibility in a natural environmental situation could mean loss of CoC status and in turn loss of CoC viability too.” The wicked fool said. “Killing and using the living tree, the land turtle, or the tapir must reduce the value and wealth, of the members of the Community of Consensus whose responsibility it is to protect it. That takes it out of the realm of casuistry and puts it directly into the realm of biosustainability and survival. Cutting down a 500-year-old mahogany tree would not now just be an ethical petty political crime. It’s an insult to the CoC tribe and is met with a move that protects survival and biosustainability. Communities of Consensus must protect their area of responsibility from the fractional bankers, the nation-state minions, and other predators. If the CoC’s area of responsibility is diminished, so will the CoCs’ wealth and status be diminished. They must protect themselves, along with their area of responsibility, from the caedere thugs sent by the predators to eradicate them. Caedere thugs will die, along with other super-predators, as well as CoC heroes.”
“You’re not proposing anything new.” The peddler said. “That’s the situation of the indigenous tribes today. Doomed, like us.”
“You’re right.” The wicked fool said. “It is just what’s happening here in Amazonia today.”
“It’s inevitable, unavoidable.” The peddler agreed. “It seems to be a hopeless solution to me. The remaining indigenous tribes in the World today are working models of your CoC solution. It’s exactly the same state of affairs. They appear to me to be losing the war everywhere.”
The wicked fool didn’t appear to hear the peddler’s cogent comment, but said. “CoCs that survive, and become animans wealthy, must aid the scientists and other educated people to clone stored DNA and return extinct species to the environment. Every reclaimed species will increase the animans wealth of the CoC and the planet.”
“The motives seem right, but things will have to get really bad before people turn to such groups.” The peddler said. “They will have to fear terribly to kill horribly. Then something will come along and force them to feel a need to rationalize their great killing.”
“You mean a perverse desire for religion may return to plague mankind?” The wicked fool asked.
“Well.” The peddler said. “As you say, it’s not going to happen as bloodlessly, as one would wish. Blood-guilt can coerce people into religious slavery.”
“You’re right. I have agonized over this question for decades.” The wicked fool said. “I do not see the arrival of these groups until there is a great overwhelming crisis. A super-environmental disaster, total extinction of liberty, or predatory confiscation of all caedere wealth must occur. It must be sufficient for everyone but the super-predators to feel its devastation. Perhaps some fascistic control over everything simians consider necessary to life will start the bloodshed. People will only act violently when they feel the need to defend themselves against a threat. Friedrich Engels is supposed to have once said, “Bourgeois society stands at the crossroads, either transition to socialism or regression into barbarism.” I cannot but agree. My only corollary is that we must be eclectic with our barbarism.”

Chapter Twenty
“Killing gets to be enjoyable and indiscriminate, from what I’ve heard. It can even get out of hand. . . . But, I’m carrying coals to Newcastle.” The peddler said. “You know more than I about such matters.”
“I’ve done my share of “such matters” The wicked fool said. “As much as I could wish it to be otherwise, I can think of no way the new system of animans wealth definition can ever possibly occur except via simian blood. The simians have spent much, owe much, for which they must repay. Nothing meaningful is ever achieved, politically, without violence. Only untested fanatic idealists think otherwise. The exercise of power proceeds as a residual of the use of arms. The CoCs will arrive without any political power. They must take it. The caedere accumulators will provide the weapons.”
“Bankers control the arms.” The peddler said.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “All the arms sold and deployed by military-industrial complexes around the world are financed by inhuman banking fiends and caedere debt. Resources, spent on arms via paper money and phony debt extortion, are taken from humanity and worthy planetary objectives. Fiat currency, and the easily-manufactured debt fractional banking represents, holds everyone captive. Animans wealth is positive wealth, and caedere wealth is negative. Caedere bankers stand directly opposed to animans wealth. Caedere bankers must go.”
“EVERYONE genuflects to caedere wealth, because EVERYTHING has a caedere price.” The peddler said. “Caedere bankers can buy their way out of animans danger without even feeling the caedere expenditure pinch.”
“I’m afraid you’re right.” The wicked fool said. “Everything for which I dream can evaporate in an instant if no way is found to institute a functioning animans value system.”
“Ideals like honor, liberty, economy, courage, integrity, kindness, sacrifice, forgiveness, etc. fall prostrate before the onslaught of the “golden fantasy”.” The peddler said.
“Nothing is sacred when confronted by caedere’s negative power. What I’m proposing is almost a pure exercise in futility.” The wicked fool said. “I feel like an Amazonian tribal warrior, preparing to raise my wooden spear against a 50-caliber machine gun.”
“Banking cartel members, and the ruling dynasties, are supposedly worshippers of Lucifer, the Devil.” The peddler said.
“Perhaps.” The wicked fool said. “But, what does it matter? All supernatural worship is nonsense. The Devil is like its understudy, the comical “God” boogeyman. Lucifer is just another superstitious concoction of predators bent on raping imbeciles. “Lucifer” is supposedly on one end of the imaginary “Other World” despot scale. “God”, “Jehovah”, “Yahweh”, “Allah” are on the diametric opposite. But, documentation from the Babylonian Captivity brought the meaningless fact to the foreground that both the “Devil” and “God” are one and the same imaginary diety. There is absolutely no moral difference between the opposing ends. The topography of the gradient may differ, at times, but the arms are always in equilibrium. Predacious Luciferian bankers, therefore, with reason, feel they need not fear the other predacious religious cabals’ mystic gobbledygook about “God”, “Jehovah”, “Yahweh”, “Allah”. They are allies under the frock.”
“Appealing to one religion for assistance against another is pointless, I suppose?” The peddler asked.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “It always has been, not to mention how disingenuous it would be.”
“Like asking a pol for help.” The peddler said.
“That brings me to another large group of predators.” The wicked fool said. “Penultimate to the supreme super-predatory bankers, the simian state is the most grievous super-predator on humanity and all Life. Pols and people who work for states, in all but the most innocuous positions, know they are acting contrary to the best interests of humanity. For this reason, they live in fear, and it is why they are control freaks. All governments are organized predation. Even the weakest are anathemas that in time will fall or transmogrify into the rigidity of totalitarianism. Written Law in a totalitarian system breaks the back of humanity, desiccates our essence, and jeopardizes survival & evolution. Human extinction will accompany world hegemony of totalitarianism. If we act in our own defense, speak out against, or discuss such a state of affairs, as I am doing, we are at risk. A conversation, like ours here, can easily be overheard. With a bit of creativity on the part of the eavesdropper and the police, we become conspirators. Should we assign any of our thoughts to paper, and give them to another, the state can construe it as planning terrorism. In addition, we may find ourselves recipients of all manner of epithets – “criminal”, “crazy”, “traitor”, etc. before execution.”
“So why do you do it?” The peddler asked.
“Proving I have lived, I suppose, and my observations on life. I did not die in Viet Nam, as so many men, better than I, did.” The wicked fool answered.
“They were true honorable humans.” The peddler said.
“Yes, they were.” The wicked fool said. “I do not have the courage to be a predicide. It is not because I fear death as much as it is that I fear the possibility of falling into the morass of sitting in judgement. I can do my part, now, risking my life, with a conversation, here and there, for an even greater cause, biosustainability. Come what will. I do not think our lives serve any purpose if they do not work to the best of their abilities to make conditions for Life more positive.”
“Oh.”
The wicked fool said. “I’m trying to question everything with my remaining years, propose alternatives, and perhaps make a positive difference. That seems to be all I can do now to make the world a kinder place.”
“I see.”
“The super-predators will probably not come after me, until I begin to be a bother or a threat to them.” The wicked fool said. “The true life-deniers, caedere wealth masters, fractional-banking titans, avoid the chastisement scene. Their agents and pettier death-worshippers enter to officiate at our prosecution or assassination. Medical doctors, compassion vultures, Christians, Jews, Muslims, pols, lawyers, etc. will jump on the judgement board if given the slightest chance. Maliciously-directed politically-correct jargon will destroy anyone, even the saintliest of characters.”
“Especially the saintliest of characters.” The peddler added.
“Yes. That’s right. Pols, like all “healers”, thieves, rapists, “men of god”, “wise-guys”, compassion vultures, bankers, and lawyers are predators. A society “led” by pols and bankers, poisoned by medicine, exploited by Written Law, threatened with religious castigation, sucked dry by genetic misfits & simian ticks, is a psychotic society.” The wicked fool said. “Civilization has been doomed, since at least 11,600 BCE, to these brutal, astrological, irrational, cyclical, savage states.”
“Must all “civilized societies” be so?” The peddler asked.
“No. Communities need not always be destined to be debt-raped either. But, they always will be, until the bitter end, if the definition of wealth & civilization does not change.” The wicked fool said.
“How are we supposed to define civilization?” The peddler asked.
“My own enlightened definition of what constitutes “truly civilized” will draw few contemporary adherents.” The wicked fool said. “If the human race is to survive and continue evolving, new civilized communities must be smaller than those now or in the past. Smaller is necessary to conform more easily to Natural Law. They will be anarchistic, resembling 30 to 50 – member hunter-gatherer groups. They will have a proximal eco-systemic species extinction rate that is lower than that which current society deems acceptable, preferably zero. Homicide rates in the new civilized societies will be higher than that which contemporary society deems acceptable. The new rate must be maintained high and stringently controlled.”
“Sounds like we’re right back to the moribund indigenous tribes.” The peddler said.
“I wish you wouldn’t keep reminding me.” The wicked fool said.
“Why will the homicide rate be higher than current rates?” The peddler asked.
“For a number of reasons.” The wicked fool said. “First, self-defense. Predators that cannot be rehabilitated must be removed. That will require a great deal of homicide. Second, not all simian life, manifesting out of the ether, has the wherewithal to continue satisfactorily in Earth’s toxic environment. Eugenics and euthanasia must be institutionalized in the new communities, as they were in ancient human groups. Incorrigible predators and biological misfits must be sent back to from whence they came. Eugenics and euthanasia must never become callous routine but neither must these new CoC civilizations get pressured into being knee-jerk brutal, exploitative, draconian, and non-discerning in their truncating. Past human civilizations and modern societies invariably oppress. There are no records of genocides in past civilizations before caedere wealth appeared. Gold first began to be valued, according to credible records, by common people, around 3000 BCE and the first code of laws, according to credible records, was instituted in Sumer in 2350 BCE.”
“The appearance of Written Law after the love of gold appeared is interesting, isn’t it?” The peddler said.
“I’m not so sure it was coincidence.” The wicked fool said. “The rise of caedere value seems to be a strange advent, almost a perversion of our species’ mission. Communities of Consensus must become an avenue of return to salubrious civilization. Being anarchistic, they will not kill genocidally, but with discretion, and not as punishment, but only in self-defense. When one considers all the past and current definitions of what constitutes a deity, one must consider that the Communities of Consensus will be atheistic.” The members of the new civilized communities must be worshippers only of Entropy’s enemy “Life”, while accepting Entropy as a necessary constraint and tool. Predators choose the perversion of individual life quantity over life quality, forcing protracted aging at the expense of fresh new life. This is a direct affront to Nature. For that reason, violent CoC internecine rivalry will be a prevalent feature of the new civilization. Bloody conflict will not allow such perversion to flourish.”
“How does this long-life desire come to be?” The peddler asked. “I certainly don’t want to grow old and infirm, piled high with regrets, having others either looking after me or waiting impatiently for my death. Am I alone in such a wish?”
“I don’t think you are.” The wicked fool said. “Many people do not know when to call it a day. Such distortion of Natural Law is another consequence of caedere wealth and its pursuit. By substituting pursuit of caedere wealth for healthy missions in life, a population appears that is filled with regret for lost youth. These regretful delayed-gratification individuals soon control large quantities of caedere wealth or digital representations of same. They arrogate the right to extend their own lives by squashing life out of their “poorer” neighbors. They can literally starve others out of life. At this time, it is 15 years of life longer for the caedere wealthy. They can bargain for more expensive heroic longevity measures than those less endowed with caedere wealth. They can buy new pluripotential stem cells from murdered babies. They can put competing people, poorer in caedere wealth, behind bars or in sweatshops to pay for it all. They can also avoid harsher lives due to their possession of obscene amounts of caedere wealth. They are mockeries of Nature and natural selection. Any system of economics that uses caedere wealth as capital is archaic, and it must be retired. If it is not removed, it will remove us.”
“It will end badly.” The peddler said.
“Yes, it will.” The wicked fool agreed. “Super-predators also believe that because they are treacherous successful thieves and certified over-cheats they now deserve a louder voice than other simians in all of life’s manifestations of power. They have indeed already arrogated that louder voice and with it control of all the contingencies whereby we live. They are attempting to shove this hegemony over us in perpetuity without our consent. Pols and their banker owners can now subvert free-market capitalism, do so, and invest their ill-gotten gains in totalitarian hegemony and surrogate humans. Surrogate life forms, chipped simians, robot machines, trans-genetics, etc., building upon a simian framework, draw heavily on digital technology. Robots, cyborgs, trans-humans, trans-genetics, etc. can be made nearly invincible. They doom Man to annihilation.”
“They soon will be invincible.” The peddler interjected.
“I’m not sure they will ever be as easily reproducible as Nature’s own life forms.” The wicked fool said. “That will call forth other abuses of human existence.”
“I can’t believe that a culture, and its producing species, can survive for long if such beings also thrive.” The peddler added.
“Nor can I.” The wicked fool said. “We will be driven to near or complete extinction just as were the predecessors of dogs, horses, cultivars, etc.”
“But, the domesticated species also loses viability and gets poised for destruction.” The peddler said.
“Yes, it does.” The wicked fool agreed. “Artificial Intelligence, philosophical-zombie programming, and surveillance science will make “rubber-ladies” even more simian-like than natural simians. Simians will not be able to resist the sexual robot allure. That is only the 2nd generation sex toy. The 3rd gen will mentally simulate another person, internally, like a super real sexual fantasy. Falling in love with a robot, carried within – how it will affect empathy – is one problem. People are drawn to robot sex out of the fear of betrayal, while betrayal by a digital controller is even more a risk, more dangerous than the empathy loss. These problems get added to the decrease in reproduction that results from lower rates of natural copulation.”
“Either way you approach the situation it will mean diminished viability for the species.” The peddler added.
The wicked fool agreed. “There is something to be said for challenging the human essence’s dominion through transhumanism or cyborg experimenting. If we are ever able to eradicate crime it will probably come through trans-human technology. There may be aliens or other beings outside our organs of perception but not outside animal perceptions. With trans-genetic enhanced senses, found in these organs of perception, we may approach the animal capacity to see beyond what humans can now see. We might even synergistically learn to see into other dimensions. Greater possibilities exist for human evolution enhancement through trans-genetic-humanism than merging humans with machines. These latter developments, however, are dangerous and should be stringently controlled by the community. Evolutionarily, intelligence is not much better than ignorance as a selection tool. Reproduction strategies are, however, and unquestionably so. Cyborg technology will reduce reproductive capacity by orders of magnitude. Why have sex if you’re content without it, all your needs assumed and enthralled by technological surrogates? Such a state of affairs may have very positive aspects for simian population control without the draconian measures now contemplated. Nevertheless, although trans-humans may survive unaided, they are not truly human. They present, for human survival, special aids but also potentially devastating problems, an “evilution”.”
“Dangerous.”
The wicked fool nodded his head in agreement and said. “Something else to consider with human/machine hybrids is the fact that cyborg technology will soon permit the invasion of our every thought. Digital memory will be able to collate and correlate every single idea an individual has, or has ever, had. This is extremely dangerous for our species. As you know, what is considered a crime changes by the minute, gram and kilometer. A master oscillator that will allow resonating with brain waves is here or nearly here. I was experimenting with one the year I fled from Rothschild. That was twenty years ago. To relieve planetary stresses caused by simians, or for other reasons not apparent yet, perhaps an artificial intelligence glitch, the super-predators may use such technology in deleterious ways. For example, they might mandate people: enter political and economic concentration camps, betray friends and relatives, or perform mass suicides. But, what is even more frightening is that there will no longer be even a notion left in the simian mind of what freedom means.”
“How will that happen?” The peddler asked.

Chapter Twenty-One
“Just imagine how many people are currently working on these technological scientific advances and have been for how long!” The wicked fool said. “Super-predators have already got machines built that can surreptitiously hunt down and destroy specific humans. Soon such machines will be organisms, able to easily thwart criminal intelligence agencies, or expropriate them, in every way. How can there be any doubt that they will ultimately have the capacity to destroy a large section of humanity or virtually all of humanity at a whim?”
“You can’t be serious?” The peddler said.
“Oh, I’m deadly serious!” The wicked fool said. “Without resource exhaustion, (like diminishing food, water, clean air, energy, habitat, etc.), many other ills, (like religion, states, war, disease, and needless suffering), disappear. The contrary situation, actual active resource exhaustion, means that concrete, real-life nightmares can start in a second and become very commonplace within a short time. Humans adjust to negative changes very easily, too easily, and horror can become commonplace. Starvation for food and water is tough, and it often kills. But, as frail cyborgs, it is just one horror that can turn human suicide into a routine mundane decision. Taken to the limit over the entire species, particularly when artificial intelligence is attached to the function, hunger & thirst, or any other resource dearth, may actually cause our extinction.”
“Frail cyborgs?” The peddler queried.
“Yes. Just because having digital technology embedded in the skull gives technological convenience, expanded capabilities, and longer life does not mean it comes cheaply too. Those who control digital contingencies make slaves of every cyborg, social media addict, or medical freak. Also, artificially extending individual lifespans is not an activity blessed by Nature. Nature is not concerned with individual lifespans unless they contribute to the species’ maximum reproduction capacity. Nature has as little patience with weaknesses, like ignorance, as She does with apparent strengths, like intelligence. Birth control is also a dangerous proposal, particularly if “control” is interpreted as prevention. Nature must be allowed the freedom to produce all the young it can. Humanity can assist, after the fact, by selecting, from that which Nature produces, those deserving of life,” the wicked fool said, “but not by precluding the birthright of all healthy babies.”
“Eugenics.” The peddler added.
The wicked fool answered. “Absolutely. Organ transplant freaks too are not blessed by Nature. A trans-genetic being, encompassing genetic material of multiple life forms, may appear to be human. It may indeed be so, but it will usually not be, at least not until we learn how to describe ourselves better. As it will be almost impossible for such creatures to reproduce, while also retaining the new capacities in the progeny, defining it will be even more difficult.”
“Racial bias, of course, is not indicated as a criterion for eugenic selection?” The peddler asked.
“In the world today, it is politically-correct to say all men are one race . . .human, i.e. indigenous black African simians and non-African simians of African extraction are both called Homo sapiens sapiens.” The wicked fool said.
“But you don’t think indigenous African blacks are human?!” The peddler retorted.
“I did not say that. They can breed with non-Africans and produce reproducible offspring, ergo, by definition they are members of the same species, Homo sapiens sapiens. An intelligence gap of one or two standard deviations lower than non-Africans is not a small matter however. If intelligence assists a simian in a quest for a mission, there are many fewer black indigenous African humans within the genus Homo than there are non-indigenous African humans.” The wicked fool said. “Only politically-correct simians have the luxury of saying that all black indigenous Africans are indeed human. Indigenous African black simians lack Neanderthal Homo sapiens DNA. This DNA is an essential component included in the DNA of western Homo sapiens sapiens. It may very well be the reason for higher intelligence in the Cro Magnon’s decendants. Ergo, indigenous black African simians may present few human hominids, and relate to us in the way Down’s syndromes relate to us.”
“That idea will never sell.” The peddler said.
“I’m aware of that.” The wicked fool said. “But, the world is full of politically-correct cattle. Why try to conform to the nonsense-babble they spew? Unless you consider subnormal simian intelligence as grounds for euthanasia and eugenics, there is no need to euthanize indigenous African negroes. I would be more in favor, however, of renaming missioned humans as Homo sapiens eusapiens or Homo sapiens verusapiens.”
“You’re st . . .” The peddler started a question, but the wicked fool interrupted him, saying.
. . . . “Contrary to standard political and sociological lallation, if you were so bold as to define racial demarcations as groups having large genetic differences in common, then there are many races. For example, you must consider grossly defective genetic freaks, such as trisomy 21s, as a separate race. You might designate these idiots as Homo sapiens trisomia, or some other special variety of Homo sapiens, because they are definitely not garden-variety Homo sapiens sapiens. Incidentally, the CoCs will summarily remove from humanity, except perhaps for a few specimens, kept in a zoo lab, as scientific curiosities, individual genetic misfits, such as mongoloid idiots. If they are not removed they may one-day contribute passively & negatively to contaminating the Homo sapiens sapiens simian gene pool. Those compassion vultures attempting to frustrate such selection programs are predators, and the Communities of Consensus will also stop that parasitism wherever it is discovered.”
“That’s classic eugenics talk. You’ll get a great deal of resistance with it.” The peddler asked.
“Resistance or not, each simian should be responsible for its own survival, control its own life. The planet’s other Life cannot abide non-custodial simian inhabitants that do nothing but reproduce, use up planetary resources, and defecate.” The wicked fool said.
“Why not?” The peddler disagreed. “Wild animals do only that.”
“Other animals are not endangering the entire flora and fauna of the planet with their cerebral cortices and bloated numbers.” The wicked fool said.
“Neither are Homo sapiens trisomias. The peddler countered.
“No. They are not.” The wicked fool said. “But, because they cannot survive on their own, needing simians to care for them, they are effectively drawing heavily on planetary resources, rendering no reimbursement. The planet needs our kindness as much as the “god of freaks” does. That type of kindness-to parasitism is both animans and caedere expensive, and it is also one of the justifications for eugenics and euthanasia. Twisted and defective simians have a natural right to be sent back to from whence they came. We are imprisoning them in their twisted bodies that we torture with our misplaced compassion, fear, greed, and guilt. There will be many freaks horribly mal-designed in the wake of cyborg & trans-genetic-human research. There will also be many mal-designed creatures resulting from nuclear power plant meltdowns and nuclear waste-leaking accidents. There will be limited nuclear wars that do not kill everything but pervert most of the surviving life in their wake. Depleted uranium is often used as a cheap war weapon. There is ample evidence of how that cruel armament twists simian genetic health. The distorted life that collectively comes out of these fiendish entertainments and diabolical proceedings should not be tolerated. Leaving them to survive among normal simians is another way of administering suffering and represents the very essence of cowardice, cruelty, and dishonor.”
The peddler was bewildered as to a cogent response, so he changed the subject, asking. “How does biosustainability amalgamate with anarchy?”
“Very well. Every dead pol, lawyer or banker is a positive step toward biosustainability.” The wicked fool said.
“Why?”
“All state-predators seek to limit the free-market in some way to accumulate power and caedere wealth.” The wicked fool said. “They want only to throw crumbs to humans and watch us scramble around, fighting for them in the dust like chickens. Their greatest consideration is the illusion of power. The only economic system that provides for natural selection in society, long-term, is a free-market, using animans money. Except via the freely given consensus of all parties involved, the market must not be limited in any meaningful way. “Free” means NO imposed constraints, “legal or illegal”. “Free” precludes fraud, such as artificial “personhood” of corporations, or, theft, such as taxation, tithing, socialism, collectivism, communism, fascism, or, protection rackets, such as mob democracy, penitentiaries, concentration camps, and all the other contrived infrastructure and instruments that enforce these constraining anathemas.”
“What is wrong with democracy?” The peddler asked.
“Do you mean besides its being a well-organized gang rape? As I said earlier, mob democracy is rule of the base, ignorant, cowardly, and corrupt.” The wicked fool said. “Votes are just signs, indications, that the super-predators have succeeded in defrauding people into believing they have a choice as to how they are exploited and controlled. The Federal Reserve Act of 1913, the Smedley Butler story, The Eretz-Israel Rape of the Mideast, the Big Bank Bailout fiasco of 2008, NDAA 2016, the world wars, and hundreds more illustrations prove that mob democracy is no match for criminal banking cartels.”
“Yes, they do. You’re right. I forgot.” The peddler said.
The wicked fool said. “The ZSA and its pimp Israel are in the Death Delivery business. That business is facilitated by the social media. The social media lixiviates the lies promulgated by the news media. Both mediums are owned by the Zionists. The social media thus accentuates the evils of democracy, caricatures posing as concurrence. Past wisdom, born with so much suffering and waste, is portrayed as false by Zionist historical revisionism. Mob democracy, sold as consensus, is shoved down the throats of the sheep. One can see the deployment of Zionists’ lies in the Schlieren patterns of politically-correct insanity. The sheep believe the lies, and those insidiously manufactured beliefs affect the way the entire population acts and votes. The inevitable extinction of the human race will be precipitated by this virtually complete collective state of mind. Considering our delay, the only antidote to either salvation or extinction, will not be appealing.”
“There is no integrity in democracy anywhere?” The peddler asked.
“Absolutely none! Super-predators can always hire thugs that will subvert any kind of republic or mob democracy.” The wicked fool said. “No pol can keep its dignity, swimming in the sewer of corruption, intimidation, or stupidity. A pol that survives longer than a year in office is a predator. The only system of political organization that is biosustainable is atheistic anarchy, limited but by communal consensus. Governments, Democracies, Republics, Dictatorships, States, Churches, Rules of “Law” and “God”, are diametrically opposed to natural biological principles. They are unnatural constructs of predators. Written Law cannot make Biological Law disappear.”
“You say that the ruling class is firmly entrenched and incredibly cohesive.” The peddler asked. “Violent revolution will change such a seemingly impregnable system?”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Passive methods are not sustainable or occur too little, too late, to make intelligent changes that last. “A whiff of grape” will usually take care of them quickly. Any long-term survival of advances, gained through non-violent methods, will result in genuflecting assemblages.”
“Why are they considered politically-correct?” The peddler asked.
“Simians are excellent at adapting very fast to untoward conditions.” The wicked fool said. “This puts great pressure on them to simply endure hardship and oppression. Super-predators know this and use it to infiltrate, castrate, and enslave any passive democratic movement that arises. Genuflecting groups of slaves buy their survival with currency acquired by figuratively selling the blood of heroes and the disenfranchised to the super-predators.”
“All who support state constructs and passive methods are also predators?” The peddler asked.
“Of course.” The wicked fool said. “The state cannot survive without its supporters, minions and venal traitors.”
“All governments are bad?” The peddler asked.
“EVERY SINGLE ONE! The state is a euphemism for open-air prison! If the State does not adhere to the principles of biosustainability, providing bread and habitat to “all” its cold & hungry, the State is indefensible and illegitimate. “All” includes our disenfranchised “also-rans”. If the State does not bring to each citizen the voluntary incentive and means to create one’s own bread, free of governmental interference, the State is indefensible and illegitimate. If the State does not protect private property, gained by free-enterprise, from predation, it is indefensible and illegitimate. If a State imprisons, enslaves, robs, or murders its non-predatory citizens, it is indefensible and illegitimate. That means our disenfranchised “also-rans” too. If a State does not protect anyone wishing to leave its control, until safe from its control, that State is illegitimate, indefensible and predatory. That includes our disenfranchised “also-rans”. Anyone gaining privileged sustenance from such an indefensible and illegitimate predator is a parasite.” The wicked fool said. “There are no existing states that can satisfy my criteria, and there never has been one.”
“Neither will your CoCs.” The peddler said.
“Better than any state will, and members of the CoCs are free to leave and form their own community.” The wicked fool said.
“So, you are saying, in effect, that every human being must be a vegetarian.” The peddler asked.
“No.” The wicked fool said. “There will always be surpluses in well-managed biomes in Nature from which to choose our food. Predation is a fact of Life. There is no way we can free ourselves of it completely. Although Man is not exclusively a predatory carnivore, he is a predatory omnivore. But, he needs very little animal protein. All the animal protein Man needs can come from his immune system debris, dying gut protists, and an occasional animal kill from the ecosystems he manages. Until the managed ecosystems & biomes of the Communities of Consensus and are well-established around the planet, and an animans culture is running, Man can live well, anthropophagically, on current predators.”
“That’s cannibalism, predation on predators!?” The peddler asked.
“Technically, yes, an enemy of my enemy is. . ,” The wicked fool said
“That’s pure savagery!” The peddler interrupted. “You’re saying the only way the human race can save itself is with a return to barbarism! Not to mention, it’s intraspecies parasitism!”
“You’re absolutely right.” The wicked fool said. “Not to mention that it also contains some of my fatal criticisms of the state. At times, it is inconsistent, indefensible and illegitimate.”
“Right!”

Chapter Twenty-Two
“And you have a better idea?” The wicked fool asked. “What I am proposing is infinitely more positive than the state or brutal business as usual. Our species is looking forward to an alternative of horrible eternal war, nuclear devastation, resource exhaustion, starvation, pandemics, universal despotism & slavery, collective dementia, mass suicides, democides, and genocides unless we wake up, recognize the reality of our situation, and propose solutions. The most important matter for humanity to consider is its devastating over-population. Absolutely nothing reasonable or effective is being done to remedy the situation. It is causing natural resource exhaustion and desolation of all disenfranchised populations. Experimenting with some of the successful practices of primitive Man, using the enlightenment of subsequent millennia, is the only way to go. Coming from a state, the CoCs will have to deal with state weaknesses that linger. The CoCs will overcome or ameliorate them. It will take time. There will be mistakes, but the CoCs will prevail.”
The peddler said. “I’m not so sure.”
The wicked fool said. “You have no alternatives that even touch on a small fraction of the problems I am addressing!”
“Perhaps not, but . . .” The peddler said.
“You’re not sure because you cannot yet see that you are living in a 100% dying world. You are not yet experiencing a life without hope, devoid of food, freedom, water and beauty. You are not yet confined to the loneliness of a planet without wildness or any forms of life other than food animals and simian derivatives. Despite the offal that the religionists and other caedere predators vomit up to keep us enslaved, we are condemned and must awaken to that situation. Resource exhaustion and simian over-population are dooming our species. We are sustaining our bloated population on chemicals, using up the breathable oxygen, soil and potable water. We are poisoning the planet. Toxic waste and pesticides are killing us slowly, as they kill rapidly everything else. Soon, the last crop of food shall have been harvested. Monsanto and Bill Gates will probably own it. How will the world deal with the increasing famine? People will die in silence since Google, Facebook, and Yahoo censors will not let anyone know about the situation. How long can we survive without clean water? Without ocean algae, where will we find oxygen to breathe? Where will we turn to avoid the disintegration of every cell in our bodies from nuclear radiation? Where will we find food without the bees?”
“Einstein said we could last five years without the bees.” The peddler said.
“Without food, clean water or oxygen, we can’t last five years.” The wicked fool said. “I don’t know how long we’ve got, but it won’t be long. The super-predators are already playing “chicken” with nuclear weapons, genuflecting to those death-worshipping religious savages! The rape of the planet as an amusement cannot last. Human dignity, human aspirations, and human cultural advances cannot survive over-population.”
“They might.”
“Have you ever raised rats or mice to a state of over-population?” The wicked fool asked.
“No.”
“I have.” The wicked fool said. “They do the same things the simians are starting to do now. Alarming increases in infanticide, rioting, rape, homosexuality, cannibalism, and self-mutilation occur. Do you want to live in an insane dystopic world? I don’t, and I wouldn’t want to bring children into such a miasma. Surpluses anywhere mean suffering somewhere. That word “surplus” includes we simians. An oversupply of simians is an undersupply of other life. It does not take a genius to see that we cannot keep exploiting without giving something back! Why can’t the hoi polloi see that we, the disenfranchised, are all connected? As I said earlier, we are all predatory omnivores not strictly carnivores. Our condition as humans demands flesh from somewhere. But, our predatory avarice need not be our raison d’etre, as it is now. Our predation must conform to natural principles. Biosustainability cannot tolerate corporate agriculture, feedlot cattle or pigs, factory chickens, veal boxes, slash/burn farming, clear-cut forestry, licensed hunting, mob democracy, caedere values, total war, etc. Small groups, properly spaced, like Amazonian indigenous tribes and CoCs, can eat without causing such suffering. As the human population in anarchistic communes approaches a fair distribution on the planet, there will be more wild herds and flocks of animals to use for food. There may, initially, be a reduction in the classes of meat available, but they will increase, and there will always be room for people that do not choose to be strict vegetarians. Custodianship does not have to be a sentence. It is a privilege. Out of all creation, only we have that option. Nature gave us intelligence. We must return that gift with custodianship responsibilities. If we do not honor and appreciate the largess, we are lost. If a person wishes to eat meat, or any other animal product, there must be a surplus of the animal to be eaten.”
“Until our population drops to less than 400 million, I fear there will be a resurgence of cannibalism.” The peddler said.
“You may be right.” The wicked fool said. “I do not see that as much of a problem, as there is over a 7 billion simian over-supply.”
“It is still intra-species predation.” The peddler said.
“It is.” The wicked fool replied. Intraspecies predation is not a good thing. It is not healthy under normal circumstances, but these are not normal circumstances. The fire has reached the point where fire must fight it. Abnormal circumstances require abnormal solutions. I suppose it could get to be somewhat difficult to manage. The diet may eventually get to be commonplace and boring. Without enough plant matter and cellulose fiber some instances of “rabbit-poisoning” might occur. Of course, cultural changes will be necessary before anthropophagy becomes de rigueur. Cultural changes will occur, regardless, to establish animans values. The period of readjustment and the consequences of that altered culture, initially, may not be particularly pleasant. The definition of what is human will certainly undergo some modifications. The second problem, having to do with wholesale eating of human flesh, is the possibility of creating new diseases from human molecules. DNA and simian peptides may get into places in humans where they should not be. I’m thinking of situations like prions changing brain chemistry or something analogous to anal copulation residuum.”
“What is that?” The peddler asked.
“Mad-cow disease?” The wicked fool queried, receiving a knowing nod from the peddler. “And, when rotting sperm and the integrated viruses they contain mix with blood, dietary putrefaction organics, and bacteria in the colon to cause immune deficiency diseases.”
“Oh, yes. I remember you speaking of that earlier when you were explaining the AIDS swindle.” The peddler said.
“On the positive side, human population should decrease without pandemics, thermonuclear war, massacres, democides or genocides.” The wicked fool said. “Quality of life will increase as quantity remains as high as is desired. A good compost can be made from human flesh, also, if one mixes in proper amounts of carbon and earth. People everywhere will become stronger, healthier, and more beautiful.”
“I never thought about that.” The peddler said. “What about intellectual desires?”
“There is no reason why intellectual pursuits need be truncated. The Communities of Consensus, (CoCs) will need time to establish their territories and domains, while individual members allow their special interests to coalesce. Intellectual matters and cannibalism are just two of the cultural matters the CoCs will have to confront. Libraries, schools, and civil defense will be very important to the new CoCs.” The wicked fool said. “This cultural-overpopulation problem we face was over 160, 000 years in the making. It won’t be solved overnight. There will be much conflict, resettlement, and blood.”
“Isn’t that cause for throwing out the entire CoC idea?” The peddler asked.
“No.” The wicked fool said. “Biosustainability and Natural morality are not instinctual in Man, as they are in the innocents. There will be mistakes and much waste. But, we avoid confrontation at an unacceptable risk.”
“Birth always occurs in blood, pain and waste.” The peddler said.
“Touché.” The wicked fool said. “Prehistoric hunter-gatherers were cannibalistic and often anthropophagic. When the simian population approaches 400 million individuals, anthropophagy will also diminish. The hardest new cultural reality to sell will be changing humanity to animans wealth from caedere wealth.”
“I can’t even begin to imagine how that will happen.” The peddler said. “Or how long it will take.”
“It cannot take place as a fiat ex cathedra. It will be much easier if the CoCs initiate and experiment with it in each Community and share their results with other CoCs. The first CoCs will probably be like the mafias, non-caedere mafias if that’s imaginable. The mafias, sub-protection rackets, are predatory mini-states within a state. States versus mafias, like their many emulators, can be compared to the reproduction demonstrated by yeasts. Parental yeasts, (states), reproduce by budding progeny yeasts, (mafia), off as new organisms. Yeasts are mainly saprophytes, feeding off of dead organic matter. Pols & mafia thugs are parasites, predatorily feeding off living things. So, the analogy breaks down some.” The wicked fool said but continued. “The comparison with yeast reproduction holds for the reproductive connection of states-mafias, nonetheless. As the alpha-state weakens, or is stressed beyond ultimate survivability by unsustainable predation, mafias rise to fill the power vacuum. Mafia thugs, when penultimate are weak. They depend on the state-swindle and its pernicious pols for protection. The brigands imprison, enslave, rob, murder and otherwise parasitize honest people, similarly to the state’s pols, but on a less grandiose scale. As you may know, in the history of the ZSA of the past century, during the time of Al Capone, the Cosa Nostra was just another mafia. As the state weakened through corruption and unfettered mob democracy, the mafias combined with Zionist bankers to kill the USA. The two groups assassinated its President, a small-time Mafioso called Kennedy, and became the ZSA Federal Government. Now the Zionist bankers, through their mafia predator partners and the corporate fascists control and oppress the entire country. The beggared working class, whose lot continues to worsen, exist as slaves to be exploited.”

“I don’t see how the CoCs compare to that.” The peddler observed.

“You don’t?!” The wicked fool asked, surprised. “Some of the ways they will probably not resemble the mafias is in the mafia’s cheap criminal behaviors like protection, gambling, and drugs, etc. In other respects, the CoCs must behave like small mafias from the get-go. Until the entire world has many of them, CoCs will always need to be furtive, and that is caedere expensive. They will need to take resources from predators. They will be clandestine, separate, and relatively weak, compared to the state, appearing to be groups of regular citizens. They will prey on predators, until they can control their own society with ecological balances. CoCs will break many laws. They probably will not imprison and enslave, but they will rob and kill many predators to survive and grow. They may have to treacherously feign fealty to pols, use caedere money, parasitize enemies, distort perceptions of reality, etc. to be effective. I think the mafias illustrate quite well how the early CoCs will have to behave.”

“If they are to survive, I guess you’re right. I don’t see any other way, either.” The peddler agreed. “My preconceptions were standing in my way, I guess. How will they stay true to their ideals if they are so good at behaving like super-predators?”

“A problem that is not insignificant.” The wicked fool said. “I can only say that the best insurance against such a scenario is that they must never lose sight of the goal. Human survival and the love of their mission must carry them forward.”

“Do you have any more predators about which I should know?” The peddler asked.

“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “The last group of predators I wish to name are the compassion vultures, i.e. enemies of eugenics & euthanasia, advocates and care-givers of genetic misfits & disabled, and the freaks themselves. There are over 4000 genetic diseases that occur in human biology. Questions exist as to how such a large number of genetic mishaps could be maintained in our genome for so long. According to Hardy-Weinberg, it cannot be simply a matter of desperate parents protecting progeny from natural selection. Of course, that occurs, but, according to mitochondrial genetics’ evidence, we have been here only about five thousand generations. Our ape predecessors maintain many fewer mutations. Plants have twice as many genes and very few deleterious lesions.”

“Both were here for a much longer time than us.” The peddler said. “More time to accumulate mutations, right?”

“True.” The wicked fool agreed. “We know very little about the accumulation and removal of recessive traits in the genome. We also know very little about the depth of genetic engineering science, constraints, and sadistic motives of our ancient predecessors. Except for use by compassion-vultures, none of these 4,000 defects gives any member of the species a natural advantage in the present. Most did not in the past; nor shall they do so in the foreseeable future. What is certain is that compassion-vultures use freaks to exploit and prey upon altruistic simians. These pernicious predators use our species natural altruistic qualities, evolved to assist our survival, to undermine our species survivability! Unnatural and forced survival of the victims of these maladies makes them endure unbelievable pain and shame. It also gives them chances to reproduce their obscene existences. People twisted in body become twisted in mind as well. As their untenable physical situation continues, it distorts their spiritual situation. Deformed concepts warp societies. Twisted societies twist healthy individuals. Mangled individuals are, or become, predators. We see this often in the creation of medical predators. Many originate in privation and want, getting into medical predation for the lucrative benefits it promises. As we see in our own society, the cycle grows more vicious, as it spins, with increasing velocity. Those compassion vultures, feeding and caring for the freaks, are as much predatory, without the pain and the shame, as the freaks themselves. Ancient Greek and Roman Law, aware how the commonwealth suffered from such bizarre behavior, prohibited the practice.”

“How is it that we have deviated so far from Nature and enlightened conduct?” The peddler asked.

“Religion, medicine, and the state have had the major parts in this atrocious play, but a predatory media and legal system have assisted.” The wicked fool said. “A type of mental disease, called political correctness – a bovine demeanor, growing out of weakness of will – aids and abets compassion-vulture predation. All the previous predator organizations, I have already mentioned, benefit greatly from exploiting these sad and twisted sacks of meat at the expense of humanity. Except for special circumstances, lawyers and their state apparatus have made dealing with such matters a legal concern. Now, even discussing the wherewithal of killing of freaks at birth, or when the malady is discovered, is a crime. Irresponsible mendacious media disparages eugenics and her sister euthanasia. Religious superstitionists, predators all, find comfort in listening to the drizzling rot about “precious human souls”. Doctors go on, non-stop, lining their own nests.”

“Don’t you believe the handicapped have souls?” The peddler asked.

“First, we must ask ourselves, what the hell is a soul?!” The wicked fool said. “That word gets bandied about as much as the words “body” or “mind” do. At least with body and mind you can point to a region of space and say “here it is”. I’ve never known anyone that has ever located a soul. If you’re talking about the life spark, the spirit, I can comment. Those 21 missing grams at death, whether actual or just bad science, might represent a transmogrification of our spirit into something that could transcend this dimension or adventure in space. A bit of disembodied energy could conceivably go interstellar, traveling through an Einstein-Rosen bridge portal, I suppose. But, if you are speaking about an immortal heavenly zombie, as the death-worshippers try to have us believe, then we have a conflict, an impasse. I do not believe the freaks have a zombie soul any more than we do! The fact that a simian has a self-concept, however, that can be equated to a spirit, is another fact. It’s why these freaks should be recycled before birth, if possible, or before they appear somewhat human or will soon have a reasonable facsimile of such. The “god of freaks” does not give us much time to kill these creatures before they begin feeling psychic agony for their quasi-human deformed condition. Imagine the spiritual pain of a freak when confronting real simians or a human, especially the first time? Imagine the many costs to the human race and Life that caring for these individuals causes? They should be sent back as quickly as possible to from whence they came. Let them return here, if they must, with their entire organism intact.”

“You talk about recycling humans as if they were used sneakers or newspapers!” The peddler said.

“Of course not!” The wicked fool said. “Old sneakers and newspapers do not enjoy life. If defective fetuses and terminally-ill old-people are to find positive worth, beyond their presently manifested negative, it will be if science can find uses for their recycled cells.”

“You are one hard-hearted son-of-a-bitch!” The peddler said. “Homicide is still a crime.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Predators and their sympathizers, (that would be you),” the wicked fool said, “glorify low homicide rates and hypertrophied sentimental cruelty. They prefer their slaves to exist as stalled oxen. And where do the resources come from to pay the costs involved in maintaining sick freaks while stuck in their prison bodies?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” The peddler replied.

“These resources come from burning, blowing up, or starving a healthy child somewhere else in the world at taxpayer expense or forcing extinction on also-ran species. Why are religious people and “do-good”ing compassion-vultures so vicious? Why are they so intent on glorifying such great pain? Why do they pray for so much more suffering in the world than that which is unavoidable? Why? Why? Why?” The wicked fool asked, banging his fist on the table with each “Why”.

“So now I’m a sympathizer with cruelty?” The peddler asked.

“There is no excuse for deliberate cruelty.” The wicked fool said, ignoring the peddler’s comment. “Do-gooders, these benevolence-buzzards, are all closet sadists! Are their gods enantiomeric images of themselves? It does not take the mind of a Tesla to discern that their contrived deities are fiends. If invented divinities’ cruelty is deliberate, then destroy them. Our lives could have so much more meaning if we adhered to sound principles for survival and diminishing world suffering. Those principles do not include only wherever the agony occurs but also wherever it may unquestionably soon come to exist.”

“You mean aborting a Down’s syndrome as opposed to carrying it full-term, and ultimately giving birth to it?” The peddler said.

“In part.” The wicked fool said. “But, I meant that the capacity to become a human being someday does not arrive in the simian until about three and a half years postpartum. If a freak is not discovered to be defective until after it is born, it should be immediately euthanized just as if it were a presently abortable amniocentesis Down’s positive. Evolution demands swift riposte for disproportionate weakness. It does not mandate extended cruelty. Nature only allows children and domestic cats that prerogative. The principles of Darwinian selection are not far removed from the mission to reduce world suffering. The human wish for survival, even when life is not worth living, is not solely because of our genetics. There is perversion involved, built on a foundation of irresponsible fear, ignorance and superstition.”

“So, you feel we force life on others when that life has no value?” The peddler asked. “Why?”

“Avarice, religion, fear of death, fear of the unknown, fear of the Law, pride of possession, guilt, and whatever else are all involved.” The wicked fool answered. “A woman often knows, on the basis of a prenatal karyotype or ultrasound, that she is carrying a hopeless freak. If she still elects to give birth, hoping to raise the child, she is a conspiring parasite, a predator! If she does indeed refrain from killing it in utero or having it killed, or if she does not allow it to be killed at birth, she is without doubt an enemy of biosustainability. But, the real irresponsibility rests with society. Parents should not, cannot, determine if their child deserves life or not. That is a custodial question and the responsibility of the community. It takes a village to kill a freak.”

“Why do most people find it so hard to be interested in planetary custodianship? Not even enough interest to accept eugenics?” The peddler asked. “Is it, as you say, pride in possession?”

“It may be.” The wicked fool said. “Many people do indeed believe they are the owners of their children. But, there may be many reasons involved, like feeling guilt that they weren’t born twisted in some way or shame that they gave life to a freak. That is why eugenics’ questions should be a decision for the Communities of Consensus. The group should determine if a child is a freak, undeserving of life, and a menace. It should never ever be the responsibility of the producing parent. What kind of cruelty is that that forces a biological parent to kill its own child? Not all simian parents are mere animals or demented religionists. Some are missioned humans. Estimates run as high as 400 million missioned simians, human beings, Homo sapiens eusapiens, exist. As to your other question, why people do not jump at the opportunity to fight for biosustainability, to be a custodian, or to be an anarchist. It is for the same reason that most simians choose to be religious. They are ignorant, avaricious, cowardly, and irresponsibly superstitious.”

“So.” The peddler said. “You’re saying that the more religious people the world contains the fewer custodians it also has, an inverse relationship.”

“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “The more religious a person is the less custodial they tend to be, and the more they accept state slavery. Religious people are overwhelmingly irresponsible, addicted to the religion drug. The absolve themselves from accepting a mission because they always have convenient scape-goats. They blame everything on “God”, or the “Devil”, or “original sin”, or their district’s pol. They throw personal responsibility for making the world a better place on everyone else’s shoulders but their own.”

“But you said there was no personal responsibility, just as there is no free-will?” The peddler said.

“Free will and personal responsibility are illusions, true. But, I do not know how or where to separate blind illusion from “divine” dreaming. I also do not know when illusion leaves the elusive dependent category and becomes independent mission. I do not know where to place the power involved in mission acceptance.” The wicked fool said. “The will to mission is a strength. It separates the animal, Homo sapiens and Homo sapiens sapiens, from the “divine”, Homo sapiens eusapiens. To choose to avoid a mission out of cowardice, lassitude or avarice, etc. is an irresponsible deed, but it is not elective. Refusing a mission places one forever in the position of an animal, absolved from human status. To betray one’s human mission, if it is a biosustainability mission, is a very grave matter and of the most irresponsible character. It takes knowledge, courage, and responsibility to be an imaginative custodian of Life. To betray that is not a stigma that I would want to bear, if it is even bearable. I was raised to believe that killing humans, disrespecting authority, and disbelief in a Deity was bad. Perhaps for this reason, and for the success of my mission, I now do not see the efficacy of starting out on a predator-killing rampage. That does not mean I need refrain from teaching a better way now that I have seen how wrong the morality I learned as a child was. I must inculcate what I now know to be true, regardless of the consequences to me, or I betray my mission. If I am ever called upon to be even more consistent in what it is I think, feel, and do, I think I can be true to my mission.”

“I can understand that, I think.” The peddler said.

“Despite much rhetoric to the contrary, “other-world” religious people do not have the mental and spiritual qualities of a custodian.” The wicked fool said. “It takes a powerful spirit to be a custodian. Most people are religious, because they do not possess enough mind and spirit to even control the beast within. They need the coercion of religious dread and collective psychosis to do so. Plus, they are also horrified of dying, needing to tell themselves whoppers to stomach life. Just imagine it. Believing you’re going to be a happy flying singing zombie someday and everyone you envy is going to bathe eternally in a lake of fire. Stark, raving mad!”

“Is there anything about the super-predators with which you agree?” The peddler asked.

“Oh yes.” The wicked fool said. “For one, I too despise the majority of simians. They make me nauseous with their cowardice, callous hedonism, irresponsibility, cruelty, love of ignorance, brutality, and worship of excess & waste. I understand completely why the super-predators want caedere wealth. Caedere wealth is useful in frustrating the will of the great unwashed in their pitiless implementation of demented mob democracies. The Khazarian Zionist World Order, “ZWO”, launched centuries ago, is nearing 100% fruition. The Zionist combine of caedere fiends holds a hegemony over the entire collective human essence in the simian world. Fractional-banking and arms-dynasties that control implementing the ZWO have indicated, on more than one occasion, that they want the coming totalitarian state to reduce human population to less than ½ billion souls. Such a number, I agree, would indeed be a much healthier burden for the resource engines of planetary life to bear, and the world would be a healthier and more just place.”

“Nature’s largess has limits.” The peddler said.

“Without a doubt.” The wicked fool said. “We are faced, now, with an ultimatum as a species, i.e. control our numbers with cultural changes, smelting our human values in the fires of biosustainability, or vouchsafe that responsibility to the Zionist World Order, “ZWO”. There is little time left to decide. Only three countries are still free of a Rothschild Central Bank. The whore-countries are intensely involved in turning these three holdouts into enslaved ZWO states like their own. I’m confident that the ZWO will prevail, and opportunely control our population.”

“And with it, our specie’s destiny.” The peddler said.

“Right.” The wicked fool said. “If we do not act soon, controlling our population, raising the biosustainability value of our underclasses, we’re doomed. Those that will be content to allow the ZWO to deploy their weapons against humanity are among the most pathetic of democracy’s victims. These are the voters, the truly pusillanimous. These are the ignorant, the base, and the brutal. These are the irresponsible, subhuman slaves that beg pols to defecate diurnally on them. Allowing themselves to be willing slaves of the concupiscent pol, voters are vicarious predatory parasites. They vote because they feel powerless otherwise. For most voters, an election is nothing more than a glorified football game. These foolish pathetic weaklings pray that their particular candidate’s victory will give them a measure of predatory power over the losing candidate’s voters. They are preoccupied with the tiny wave before them and cannot see the tsunami on their horizon. These voting eunuchs, the ZWO will be the first to destroy. It’s just reward for their corruption.”
“If less is better, how do we remove seven billion people?” The peddler asked.
“Removing them is not the hard part.” The wicked fool said. “The entire simian world could be destroyed in a half-hour with a thermonuclear barrage or in a couple of weeks, using a sufficiently prolific nuclear accident, nerve gases, or a few bioweapons. Keeping a simian population that is not deficient in some way, or predatory, or in numbers less than 400 million is the problem. With the Great Bridges, there would be no necessity to limit our numbers, as each person would be sorely needed to contribute to the health of the planet. Without the Pontibus, however, we must either depend on the Khazars or accept educated anarchistic, atheistic Communities of Consensus to save our species using camouflage, guerrilla warfare, and Yanomami-style competition.”

“I would still like to hear how you, yourself, propose to reduce our population to 400 million individuals.” The peddler asked again.

“I very much doubt that I, personally, shall remove even one more predator in my life.” The wicked fool said. “Viet Nam, the Congo, and Nicaragua were enough “sound and fury” for me. The Zionist World Order will probably start the great culling, using methods with which they are familiar. The Communities of Consensus will increase culling-velocity in response to the brutality of the Zionist World Order. The rest is mundane atrocity-theater. There are many effective ways of attaining an optimum number of people on the planet.”

“You already mentioned a few.” The peddler said.

“Yes.” The wicked fool agreed. “All culling methods will be made much more efficient with banker greed. Bankers have no humanity. All they care about is caedere wealth. With regard to caedere, the super-predators find a large percentage of the simian population useful. These slaves, the super-predators will not kill immediately. The day is fast approaching, however, when all simian usefulness to the super-predators, as slaves, will not be worth as much as their costs. These simians will be in the position of a fattened herd of cattle. It’s just business to the super-predators, looking upon them as a ripe feedlot. The trouble is that most of the super-predators are psychotic but not anthropophagic. We can look forward to disease, either natural or with ZWO biological weapons. There will be wars, starvation, and toxic vaccines. These will complement insidious gases, door-to-door homosexuality, suicides, and increased numbers of poisoned aquifers. Draconian politically-correct birth control, proliferation of nuclear isotopes-radiation, and quack medicine, etc. will intensify. Engineered or accidental dementia via chemicals or technology will kill many. The list will grow ever more interesting as the bloodletting proceeds. The ideal means to accomplish an optimum population and keep it there is the great question. All of the non-selective attrition-inducers can be introduced most effectively in a totalitarian police-state.”

“Must we accept that non-selective avenue?” The peddler asked.

“The “heads in the sand” option certainly seems alluring enough.” The wicked fool said. “No muss, no fuss. We end our sojourn, on the planet, in war, from depressed species viability, or with some other apparently uncontrollable devastation. We just get sick, lay down, and accept it. Simple enough. When your children cry from fear, pain and hunger, just slap them silly and usher them into their death like you were a bunch of concentration-camp Jews. Blame it all on God’s Will. Curse Rothschild and die.”

“That will help.” The peddler mocked.

“Won’t it though?” The wicked fool said. “Do we choose to accept all of the horrors above along with a diminished life in the Zionist World Order? Shall we enjoy institutionalized mental, physical and spiritual torture, experiencing unmitigated suffering, until we go extinct?”

“What alternative do we have?” The peddler asked.

“We can build the Great Bridges or embark upon a chosen system of controlled violence with the Communities of Consensus.” The wicked fool said.

“Are the super-predators the greatest enemy of the human race today?” The peddler asked, purposely not commenting on the wicked fool’s solutions.

“Absolutely!” The wicked fool agreed.
“Then they are the greatest friend of the Earth today too.” The peddler reasoned.
“At the first swipe at the flies, it would appear that way.” The wicked fool said. “If they just destroyed us, or were predicidal custodial, they would be a planetary positive.”
“They are not positive.” The peddler said. “You are about to say.”
“They are not. As we are planetary plagues, so are they.” The wicked fool said. “Super-predator current pandering to and exploitation of the mob makes our depredation just that much worse. They cannot control their caedere avarice, and we, Rothschild’s slaves, supply them with the filthy caedere lucre they want. It is because of the super-predators that we cannot reform the underclasses to biosustainability. Despite ample rhetoric to the contrary, pragmatically the super-predators want over-population, at present. Why? Because the more simians they oppress the more caedere wealth they accumulate and the more powerful they think they feel. Plus, more mouths to feed means more hardship for the poor. The poor understand how much more you bleed when underprivileged than when wealthy. Translated, that means the super-predators have less need to explain inaction or invest in control. Controlling almost everything, the super-predators even have armies to protect themselves from our removing them by force. They can easily remove us with military violence, while we have no protection from their media mendacity. The underclasses believe super-predators’ lies and defamation of our heroes, like children believe lying religious parents.”
“Super-predators and caedere wealth own us.” The peddler said.
“Yes. And, it will get worse. Currently, the super-predators farm us like so many beasts.” The wicked fool said. “If we cannot free ourselves, doing something quickly, our species will go extinct. . . or be circumscribed by the Zionist World Order, and then go extinct. They will simply annihilate us, or, when all of us are entirely enslaved, they will use us as lab rats and then annihilate us. The four alternatives available to true humans are the following: 1. We can get busy, re-invent calein, and build the Great Pontibus Bridges, or, 2. We can create Communities of Consensus, (CoC), or, 3. We can do both, or, 4. We can continue as we are, our heads in the sand, until we go extinct.”
“How can the Great Bridges help us?” The peddler asked.
“We may escape much violence with the Pontibus.” The wicked fool said. “The Pontibus will increase the planet’s radius and opportunities for increased habitat. It will make possible a sustainable substrate for over 100 billion people and millions of species. It will enable the human race to experiment with transhumanism and cyborg beings without fear of dystopic tyranny. With our knowledge of biochemistry and molecular biology, the Pontibus will allow us to bring back extinct species and create new and more diverse types of Life. With the Pontibus, we can recycle planetary pollution to biosustainable ends or freeze toxics far out in space, beyond habitation zones. The increased habitat will make the final stage of the Zionist World Order (ZWO) impossible to implement. If we choose one of the latter three alternatives, that I just mentioned, there will be no escaping violence. Neglecting the Pontibus will mean much blood. We can see incipient indications of that, right now, around the world. The only way we can make violence work for us, as a species, is with Communities of Consensus. The CoCs can resolve our needs and responsibilities better than any pol or scheister lawyer. Without using countering violence, however, within a few weeks, the ZWO will wipe all Communities of Consensus (CoCs) out of existence. The only way humanity can survive is to meet ZWO violence with violence. Treachery and near disaster will be these groups’ constant companions, even with the use of violence. They will sleep with trouble.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Easy to see.” The peddler said.
“The first Communities of Consensus to arise will be variegated. They will arise spontaneously in response to the misapplication of state power. All the many types of CoCs that appear will be possible answers to the state’s dissolution. The Zionists will slaughter the non-violent CoCs as if they were Gaza Arabs. Countenancing NO competition, the Zionist World Order, ZWO, will, immediately start in at destroying the stronger CoCs too. The ZWO will try to kill all its enemies. Israel and the Zionited (ZSA) States of America’s courtesan pols have shown us that situation, quite poignantly, in ZSA, Europe, Iran, Africa, Serbia, Yemen, Iraq, Libya, Afghanistan, Syria, Palestine, Asia, etc.” The wicked fool said. “There never seems to be enough foreign military adventures for the Jews’ military-industrial cartels.”
“And the CoCs will prevail against such a phalanx?” The peddler asked.
“With technology, Law, police, religion, predators, and all the various types of military trained against them?” The wicked fool said. “Not for a long time. Most of the early CoCs will be destroyed or driven far underground.”
“How can they ever prevail at all?” The peddler asked.
“They must!” The wicked fool fairly shouted.
“I don’t see how.” The peddler doubted.
“”From small seeds, mighty oaks do grow.”, someone once said.” The wicked fool quoted. “Among the early and isolated Communities of Consensus, there will be surviving zealots. They will join with other zealots, like fungal hyphae. And, still like fungi, their mycelium will reach around the world. They will only surface occasionally. These new CoCs will be even stronger and more clandestine than those guerrillas lost. These latter tenacious groups will embody all the principles of biosustainability and be even more inclined to be confirmed enemies of the predator organizations. They will have ALL of the characteristics, (like camouflage, tunneling, mimicking, altruism, inquisitiveness, savagery, self-medicating, etc.), that those fittest to survive manifest.”
“So, they will differ from the predator groups in what qualities that will allow them to conquer?” The peddler asked.
“A good question.” The wicked fool said. “Mission means responsibility. Responsibility requires pursuit of truth. These hardened CoC zealots will know that the biosustainability people cannot quit, because the super-predators will be looking for them. These zealots therefore will need to delve ever deeper into survival strategies and tactics. They will discover caedere debt. Caedere debt is power, both for the holders and the debtors. But, that power comes at a terrible price. Debt is always used for extortion, and it is vulnerable to interference. The extortee also is always looking for a way out of the extortor’s extortion net. As the CoC zealots will be short on caedere wealth and caedere debt they will be almost entirely free of caedere extortion. The predators will not be in such an invulnerable position. Predators will always look to their caedere holdings and consequences of caedere debt. It is their great Achilles’s heel. This means virtually unlimited power for the zealots. They can wreak great havoc, sabotage much infrastructure, by attacking predator debt.”
“Do you have an example in mind?” The peddler asked.
“Sure.” The wicked fool replied. “The example I have to describe is very small-scale, but it can be amplified, given sufficient thought to details, to bring down corporations as large as Google, Monsanto, or even the ZSA.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Imagine you own a store that sells diamonds or guns. Your store is in a marginal neighborhood that exploits the lower class. Your situation thus creates a high profit potential but also lends itself to high risk. To floor plan your merchandise you carry a large amount of debt. For this you need a large amount of insurance. The lender will demand it. During good times you realize a large gross and have no problem making your loan payments and insurance. If you are often robbed and much glass is broken, however, your insurance premiums will reflect it, until you will be cancelled as a bad risk. That debt is your main vulnerability. The location is a secondary vulnerability. Put your super-predator of choice in the store owner position. As a custodian, you would be in the position of a robber or a glass-breaker. This example can be augmented to ever greater levels. Many other predator weaknesses exist and powerful zealot qualities will be discovered only after engaging predators in battle.”
“Can you give me an example of scaling up the diamond store example?” The peddler asked.
“Why?” The wicked fool asked. “Are you planning something bigger?”
“No.” The peddler replied. “I’m just curious.”
“O.K.” The wicked fool said. “I’ll give you a crossword puzzle problem and you fill in the blanks.”
“Right.”
The wicked fool said. “Put yourself in the position of a serial plunderer of a Jewish hawala transfer waypoint. Fit the aforementioned gun shop into the position of the Jewish wallet containing the little pieces of paper used to note how much money was hawala transferred. The super-predator will be in the wallet owner position. When you figure the problem out, you can sit back and read about the sad defenestration you caused.”
“It’s that easy?” The peddler asked.
“No.” The wicked fool said. “Not always. The worst danger, the zealots will face, however, is in the use of camouflage.”
“Why camouflage?” The peddler asked.
The wicked fool answered. “For a simian with language, the camouflage trait is the use of: guile, treachery, and the distortion of another’s perception of reality. Intelligent simians manipulate camouflage skills much better than do stupid simians. Both the intelligent and the stupid world give lip-service against but also tend to overlook and accept use of circumlocution, fraud, betrayal, etc. to survive, prey upon, or gain ascendency. Homo sapiens sapiens will increasingly be accepting of this until two classes of people evolve, the much more intelligent and the much less intelligent. As technology commands ever greater segments of simian life, this evolving simian culture will value non-intelligence connected qualities less and less. They will be naturally selected out or just eliminated. Stupid simians will become slaves of the intelligent simians at an ever-increasing rate. There will be an ever-growing merging of predator and cheat until the two become indistinguishable. Such an intelligence divergence will no doubt infect the CoCs too.”
“Becoming so much like the enemy, in order to destroy the enemy, the danger exists of becoming the enemy.” The peddler said.
‘Some CoCs may forget during battle, or be confused as to, who the enemy is and who the custodian is.” The wicked fool said. “The ZWO already has control of the predatory media cartel. It is attempting to use that hegemony to stifle ALL dissemination of truthful news, flooding the ether with lies and propaganda. Their goal is consent, at whatever cost. There are also many people working for the ZWO that appear to be against the ZWO. These ZWO shills are against biosustainability, but they have tricked many custodians into believing the very opposite. Medical predators, phony-disease mongers, posing as “healers” while extracting twenty percent of the total income of Americans before killing them, are illustrative of how effective such lies are. Nearly half of all Americans are addicted to prescription opioids. There is very little an addict will not do to get its drugs.”
“Treachery will be rife on every side.” The peddler added.
“The shills will do their treachery, so entirely and so convincingly, that the custodians, many times, will not see how much they are played.” The wicked fool said. “The ZWO shills will betray their true nature, every time they speak. It will not be enough to always disabuse tricked custodians out of their enthrallment. Biometrics and surveillance equipment are becoming exponentially more invasive by the day. Artificial intelligence advances will soon overtake technology gains and anyone not in a CoC will be subsumed into the ZWO open-prison system. When the ZWO makes their will known on any issue, and they are determined to do so, all other predator organizations will fall in line, like a phalanx, with the ultra-cohesive, ultra-intelligent, totalitarian state.”
“What hope do the CoCs have?” The peddler asked.
“Not much.” The wicked fool said. “There is very little chance that any of the human race will continue much longer. In the meantime, super-predators will continue consuming lesser predators, like big fish eating smaller fish, until only the super-predators remain. Microbial Life on the planet still has a future, if the super-predators keep from pushing the thermonuclear button. Perhaps even multicellular Life can revivify if we leave soon. But, for us, without the Pontibus, the CoCs are all we have between us and oblivion.”
“If they should survive, for what can the CoCs hope?” The peddler asked.
“If these latter Communities of Consensus use: all necessary caedere debt sabotaging devices, all the countering violence & survival skills, and all strict security measures? Then there is a chance that they will not transmogrify into the predators that they are fighting. If they remain, with their integrity intact, they may: 1. Reproduce, 2. Destroy the ZWO and its anti-human cathexis, 3. Evolve into long-lived Communities of Consensus, 4. Rehabilitate the Human Race to biosustainability, 5. Change a caedere definition of wealth to an animans definition of wealth, 6. Usher in an idyllic period that will allow the human race and our also-rans to continue evolving, 7. Recover extinct species, 8. Construct the Great Pontibus Bridges and increase Life on the planet a thousand times or more.” The wicked fool answered, counting off the eight hopes on his fingers.
“Sounds awfully close to Utopia.” The peddler said. “And I don’t mean that in a good way.”
The wicked fool said. “I understand your Utopian-reservations, and they’re valid concerns. But if we do not aspire, and act on those dreams, how can we ever change the present realities of dystopia?”
“We can pray to God and ask him to save us.” The peddler said, smiling.
“Right.” The wicked fool said, smiling in response to the peddler’s mocking. Then the single-minded wicked fool continued. “As guerrillas, Communities must always stay well-hidden when not attacking super caedere repositories, statists, predators, and eco-thugs. When the ZWO is destroyed, and the majority of eco-thugs and rogue CoCs are eliminated, the job has just begun.”
“I can imagine. Just getting that far will not be easy.” The peddler said. “More like a miracle.”
“It truly will not be either easy or certain.” The wicked fool said. “But there is something to consider here. Islam and the political left are totally without reason, and they remain passionately against Western civilization. They may indeed destroy it. If they do, or even only appear to be succeeding in the attempt, CoCs may stand a greater chance of returning some order into the human population. The CoCs that survive will be strong and fit, Darwinian Ubermenschen. They still may fail to save the planet’s Life. The territorial technologists, merging with the remaining death-worshippers, may still prevail. If they should, we will all be buried in the same coffin. If the CoCs do succeed, biosustainability and anarchy prevailing, the remaining predators and death-worshippers will be forced into hiding. Communities of Consensus can hunt them out to destroy at will. CoC members must be ready, at all times, to correct members of lesser awareness.”
“Do you have an example in mind?” The peddler asked.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “A model for this state of affairs was the way the non-Nazi mafias survived in Rothschild’s Third Reich in Germany. Rothschild’s Nazi mafias in Germany controlled all the banks, corporations, and largest factories under Hitler. The smaller, poorly-funded, non-Rothschild mafias in Europe were called the “Resistance”. Our CoCs will superficially resemble these underground WWII “Resistance” cadres. But, unlike those democratic mini-states, the days of one man one vote for a democratic oppressor must end! Democracy is a key that opens the door to Rothschild tyranny. CoC guerrilla bands must not grow to more than 100 members each or effective consensus cannot be assured. Leaders will come, as a matter of course, through personal respect, not through voting. The Resistance, using consensus, killed “enemy collaborators” without trials. It was essential to their survival. The CoCs will behave similarly. They will have to learn how to administer “justice” and “mercy” without resorting to judgement and predatory Written Law.”
“You are really dead-set against voting.” The peddler observed.
“I never met a pol I didn’t want to eviscerate.” The wicked fool said.
“They are all perfumed varieties of selected piles of shit.” The peddler agreed.
“Voters are losers! Only chumps vote! Authentic humans do not collectively acquiesce in asking permission to genuflect to those that prey upon them.” The wicked fool said. “If authentic humans vote, it is with guns or other weapons, one round – one vote. In virtually all states, democracy exists right along with fascism, ignorant and brutal Sharia Law, or totalitarian socialistic despotism. Enslaved dupes vote, and they usually vote for the people they like – other enslaved dupes. Super-predators see the kind of sheep that vote, and they see those treacherous fiends that get the votes. Those same super-predators first buy the rapacious fiends that run for office. Then they buy the elections by buying the voters. Voting is so very easily corrupted. All that is necessary to control a democracy is to own the media and/or the vote-counter. Since they own the media, super-predators can manipulate the voting sheep easier than a sheepdog does a flock. They can count where and what votes they want to count, because they own the digital counting methods. Usually, the stupid, base, corrupt, ignorant, and cowardly, as the majority, inundate the better people and wise counsel anyway. The super-predators have engineered that consent. So, very little corrupting of system and machinery is necessary. You see what happens in the ZSA? Every election, for decades, the top vote-whore pol ALWAYS sells out the people. Every election the pols get more and more invasive. This last top pol, Trump, is almost too stupid to know how to breathe. But, he knows how to take his orders from the Zionist bankers that put him in power.”
“Isn’t that true!?” The peddler agreed.
“Communities of Consensus will not allow voting!” The wicked fool said. “Consensus will develop when the well-informed community feels similarly about something. If the group does not become too large, it will just accept the understood will of the whole without resorting to the ballot. Often consensus is felt communally even without a tally.”
“Democracies have nothing good in them?” The peddler asked.
“Oh, no!” The wicked fool said. “Democracies and constitutional republics are fine . . . but only if used in conjunction with the principles of natural selection.”
“How is that?” Asked the peddler.
“After an election, one can easily determine the weakest and most corrupt simian present, or soon to be so.” The wicked fool said. “That will be the winner. The winner is also an instrument of the greatest predators. It must be removed, instantly. That will augment the general strength and fitness of the entire group. The vox populi is the chorus of a herd of sheep, baaaaaaa…baaaaaaa…baaaaaaa. Whatever fiend – Khazar, “God”, or “Devil” – is waving the baton, orchestrates the chorus. The dregs of society’s predators are always the voters, and from them come the elected whores. Caedere thugs tag along with the super-predator manipulated dupes and the ignoble pol. Only by sheer accident, or rampant corruption, is anyone selected in an election that is not soon sure to be the sample size’s weakest and venalest member.”
“Natural selection, not the ballot box, promotes the most atheistic, anarchistic, free-market individuals.” The peddler said. “These are the leaders. They do not win elections.”
“Right.” The wicked fool said. “These individuals do not seek public acclaim. They do not need it. They lead examined lives and are sufficient unto themselves. Consensus will promote emulation of excellence, not abject obedience. CoCs will be much more efficient than states. As long as one is aware of this state of affairs, there is cause for hope and positive action.” The wicked fool said. “From these better stronger people the CoCs will draw their members.”
“I don’t see any hope there.” The peddler said. “Those kinds of people don’t make up even 5 percent of the human race.”
“I estimated it at about the same percentage.” The wicked fool said. “Five percent of the entire simian population makes about 400 million people. That is exactly what the super-predators, and I, feel is a good number of simians to populate this planet. If the CoCs’ anarchistic atheists can ferret out the wild pigs’ whereabouts, and the wherewithal exists, the super-predators will be eliminated along with all their ballot-box winning whores. In that cleaner milieu, the animans free-market spirit can grow and thrive.”
“How will the CoC’s stupid and base majority be swayed by the intelligent and noble minority?” The peddler asked.

Chapter Twenty-Five
“I do not believe the stupid and base will want any part of the CoCs.” The wicked fool said “Anarchists and atheists are always the most intelligent simians in the general population. Science has shown that religion and statism correlate negatively with intelligence levels. Just the fact of CoC existence will offend the general class of simian beast. Only select humans, Homo sapiens eusapiens, will choose a custodial mission. Of a certain, parabolic curves exist in any sample. Clearly, there will be lesser-endowed members present in the CoCs. They will also be in the majority. With humane respect, the more intelligent and nobler minority will present and explain the facts to the less intellectually capable. Intellect and attitude are only two factors that make a custodian and contribute to a consensus. Beyond a threshold of intelligence, the value of an individual CoC member’s survivability is also a quality to be prized by biosustainable communes. Prior to CoC consensus tallies, individual counsel shall be esteemed by a collection of members’ biosustainability records, educations, IQs, and charisma. Education in combat, biology and liberal arts shall have priority in evaluating a member’s biosustainability quotient. Every additional increment of education will be reflected in the member’s standing in the community. Numbers of predators, genetic misfits, and traitors a member has removed from the planet will augment the member’s biosustainability voice quotient. State and caedere wealth infrastructure destroyed by sabotage and strategy will also enhance a CoC member’s veneration among peers.”
“And the higher the biosustainability voice quotient the greater weight given to its holder’s counsel?” The peddler asked.
“Of course.“
“Everything dangles on the CoC developing period.” The peddler said.
The wicked fool said. “The first ones, having a great deal to learn, will be lucky to survive even one year. It is imperative that the members in these first CoCs reproduce with alacrity in numerous ways, biologically & culturally being paramount, observing little of antiquated morality constraints.”
“Free love.” The peddler said.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Until CoC members no longer need to fear being exterminated, they should put off the healthier human habit of building families. I hope young people of adolescent age will heed the CoC call. Nature designed such individuals to be virtually all, at least ontologically, astute, bloodthirsty and sex-starved. The Planet is already in an appalling way, and it is rapidly becoming a more horrifying place to all informed life except the hedonistic and callous caedere rich. The horror is facilitated by deranged “nice” people . . . Christians, Jews, Muslims, Mormons and other pusillanimous, ignorant, and superstitiously demented people. CoC groups of revolutionaries will go hunting these parasites. The young rebels will have no scruples about using guerrilla tactics. Sabotage and predicide will seem like organized sports to them. They will attack biosustainability’s enemies and remove them.”
What makes you think adolescents will want to join the CoCs?” The peddler asked.
“Young people are more tuned in to exposing contradictions than are old farts.” The wicked fool said. “They can see the planet is in a bad way with all the hypertrophied hypocrisy that exists in caedere wealth.”
“Such as?”
“Hypocrisy that causes terrible pain, like the Drug War, preventing women from controlling reproduction, forcing men to be financial slaves of women, religion, stigmatizing white minorities as racists simply for trying to survive, Written Law, arms sales, wars, genocides, etc.” The wicked fool said.
“I don’t know.” The peddler said. “The Cultural Revolution proved that idealistic groups of ignorant young people are nothing more than hordes of brutal & destructive maniacs when they acquire power.”
“That is true.” The wicked fool replied. “And there exists a good chance that return to democratic tyranny could be the desperate response.”
“We can only hope that educated and conscientious custodians maintain their consensus.” The peddler said.
“Undeniably so.” The wicked fool said. “And that itself is almost a vain hope. Like churches, universities today are bastions of ignorance. Most students and their professors are politically-correct morons. The white race is hell-bent on suicide. Rates of suicides among the other races due to ennui, anomie, and bizarre social media games are growing, indicating an increasing nihilism. In the Zionited States of America, (ZSA), at this very time, most people are moved to distraction over a housecat left in a dumpster. Those same people have not the slightest qualms about paying tribute to their criminal government.”
“Why is that government so criminal?” The peddler asked.
“Terrorism.” The wicked fool answered. “The incredibly corrupt Federal Reserve is the single greatest terrorist organization in the world. It finances all the wars and conflicts the world endures. It was created in 1913 by fraud and has been cheating American citizens of their lives, resources, and human dignity for over 100 years. All the people that died in WWI, starved to death during the Great Depression of 1929, the subsequent carnage of WWII, Stalin’s purges, the Cultural Revolution, etc., were the result of rich families’ scheming. All that suffering was engendered for profit. Not that they did anything wrong. I’m not saying that. It was just super-predatory weakness exploiting other weakness. Yet, not one banker that owned stock in the Central Bank that caused such devastation was ever apprehended and forced to pay back the resources misappropriated. Why have the people of the ZSA, or the world for that matter, not ferreted them out and executed them? Having killed those leeches would only have been an act of survival, self-defense. Why are the world’s banking dynasties still extant? Such bankers are parasites, as are their children. They are still a festering boil on the dying body of humanity. Our chances of going septic are increasing exponentially. Why have the citizens not yet repudiated the multi trillion-dollar Federal Reserve debt, repealed the Federal Reserve Act and the 16th Amendment to the Constitution? Why have they not demanded the return of the entire Country’s gold, Rockefeller and Roosevelt stole for the bankers, that was in Fort Knox. Why have the Americans not started printing their own fiat currency? Isn’t it long past such time? Of course it is! The Americans are ignorant greedy cowards. If they allow more time to pass and do nothing, they are all accessories to war crimes!”
“That’s harsh.” The peddler said.
“Of course it’s harsh.” The wicked fool said. “It has to be. These tribute-paying cowards do not see what is on our horizon. The super-predator owners of the IMF, World Bank, and Bank of International Settlements today are third and fourth generation scions of those super-predators of the 1913 Federal Reserve Act. They are sixth generation scions of the other earlier Central Bank brigands. The latest parvenus, genuflecting to the banking dynasties, are ready to organize another great war to usher in the ZWO. The devastation caused by famine and removed commodities will be incomparable. People cannot live without the things the super-predators will hoard away from us. This time the desolation will be globally instituted. It will last until only the slaves that the super-predators wish to survive are left. These fiends have made their intentions very clear. They look upon us as if we were sewer rats. And, we reinforce that perception. Every person feels they are special and will be excepted from the carnage. If CoCs do not ferret out these parasites, and execute them, the leeches will use their totalitarian plans to destroy us. Because they are not very bright, their unmitigated greed will eventually result in human extinction.”
“You’re scaring me.” The peddler said.
The wicked fool said. “The banker-controlled government of the ZSA has recently starved, burned, and tortured a million Iraqis and a half million Syrians to death, along with hundreds of thousands of other people around the world. Why? The ZSA wanted to steal a few barrels of oil for their banker thug-kings and keep their fractional-banking, paper-money, scam going. As one unfortunate cat languished in a dumpster, hundreds of thousands of innocent babies were burned and blown to bits, tens of thousands of also-ran species went extinct due to their devastated habitat. Very few ZSA voters felt moved by any of these significant facts. Something may slap the faces of the kids of these ignorant, callous, cat-loving voters. A planetary disaster, war or economic upheaval, for example, may wake them up and, abjuring their callous cowardly parents, they might start something like a CoC. I was in China during the Cultural Revolution. I saw how poverty and altering ideas can make children do horrible things. It is my hope it will also make them do wonderful things.”
“Maybe. But why start a CoC? What’s to stop them from just doing a little more civil disobedience, a demonstration, some grass roots democratic action, or a wildcat revolt?” The peddler asked.
“Did you see the “Occupy Movement” news?” The wicked fool asked.
“No.”
“Have you ever been to Palestine?” The wicked fool asked.
“No.”
“If you had you would understand immediately why you might join a CoC.” The wicked fool said. “Millions of people demonstrated to absolutely no avail in the ZSA against the bankers. The horror that the Ashkenazim have perpetrated and are perpetrating on those poor people in Gaza is exactly what the Zionists will impose on the people living under the ZWO. People are beginning to see that civil disobedience and other democratic methods are silly & futile weapons to use against the Zionists and super-predators. The simian world will increasingly see mass violence and revolts put down with maximum bloodshed. It seems the only course of action that gets simian attention is forcing a look through bloody glasses. The resistance will form, inchoately at first, but it will coalesce in time. The only three states still free of Zionist Central Banks have no more anarchistic communes within them than do the slave countries. Only anarchy can save the human race. Clandestine violence must arise. Comprehensive vehement ferocity may not happen immediately, but it will, or we will go extinct. Half the world may be passive trans-genetic-humans-cyborgs before it happens, but it will happen.”
The peddler said, doubtfully. “The CoCs’ chances are, less than imaginable, certainly not credible. You’re trying to envision a grass-roots low-tech solution to an organized high tech 7.5 billion over-population problem!”xxx
“We can only hope such groups succeed.” The wicked fool said. “The future of the human race depends on a Nature-friendly Homo sapiens eusapiens. We cannot continue accepting caedere business as usual. It’s too ugly. Lawyers, pols, medical doctors, fractional banking executives, nuclear power producers, biological defectives, deficient aged, compassion vultures, and other predators, etc. are planetary scourges and add to the repugnance of the whole. These parasites must reform their deranged “niceness”. They either change, transforming into paradigms of biosustainable behavior & forget the Zionist-inspired-political-correctness, or leave the planet. If they cannot or will not do so, voluntarily, the Communities of Consensus, CoCs, can remove them with “extreme prejudice”.”
“Most of that repugnance of which you speak is the very essence of what is considered western civilization today.” The peddler said.
“Sad but true.” The wicked fool said. “That is why I do not see how there can be change, removing vested interests, without blood. An entire Weltanschauung needs altering. Positive action for the Communities of Consensus (CoCs) cannot preclude removing all lawyers, pols, and fractional bankers wherever they can be found. The banker-state is an extortionate thief, enslaver, and indiscriminate assassin. Doctors, priests, lawyers, pols, bankers and compassion-vultures profit from the misery of others much more than do the poor ignorant miscreants on which they prey.”
“Mercy?” The peddler asked.
“Very little will be possible.” The wicked fool said. “But, yes, some. To forgive does not mean falling into the miasma of negative biosustainability. Compassion comes with a caveat, however. We may find ourselves genuflecting to pity as an excuse for being too squeamish to remove predators. With seven billion simians to remove, mercy is a quasi-crime. Communities of Consensus (CoCs) need not kill all predators. Restraint will not be shamed, if all in the commune agree it be allowed. Parasites must be aware that they will gain a reprieve if they refrain from further predation, becoming CoC supporters and members.”
“I’m sure recidivism will be high.” The peddler said, laughing.
“Of course, it will.” The wicked fool said. “But, after custodians observe predators, they have reprieved, returning to predation, and when predators observe what happens to other non-reprieved predators, all will pause and ponder. How long will custodians jump to risk their lives if incorrigible parasitism is rewarded with cheap forgiveness? One must temper kindness with kindness. A custodian’s life is worth infinitely more than that of a lawyer, a banker or a pol. The only comparison possible is the degree of life involved. The CoC is the final arbiter, and it should not deliberate more than is necessary. Simian life is cheap. Human life is not. Predators have negative value. Humans do not. CoCs must not seek to use euthanasia as a deterrent, but how long will a banker practice its thievery if it knows its frailty will result in its death? How long will a religionist swindle the flock, conning them into a vain dream of purchased zombiehood, if it knows it will die from a consensus? Would state-licensed lawyers nefariously rob, murder, and send to eternal slavery unfortunates, if they knew their blood would spill to the same level as the banker, the pol, and the god-monger? Would any would-be “ruler” keep its pol-soapbox-composure if it knew the populace soon would kick that podium of perversion out from under him, and he descend into the same bloody sewer as did the other blood-suckers?”
“It’s a gargantuan undertaking.” The peddler asked. “How does one destroy a State?”
“Certainly, not with the ballot box!” The wicked fool said. “The French and American Revolutions proved that.”
“Does it always have to condense into violent revolt?” The peddler asked.
“No. Only if you want to see the revolution possibly succeed.” The wicked fool answered. “But, if one waits for a violent revolt to exploit, one will probably ultimately realize that one’s ideal new system is just another tyranny that has replaced an older one. Only anarchy can prevent that. A caveat to remember is that those individuals, proving most effective against the criminal state, may also prove to be the first to turn on their fellows after victory is insured. They may betray, create an alternate history in their own image, or re-institute another state. Bolivar, Stalin, Mao, Hitler, Pol Pot, etc. illustrate sufficient examples of such mutable beings.”
The peddler replied. “William Butler Yeats said it very well:
“Hurray for revolution and more cannon shot!
A beggar upon horseback lashes a beggar on foot.
Hurray for revolution and cannon come again!”
The beggars have changed places, but the lash goes on.””
“For that reason, the future human race needs Communities of Consensus (CoCs) to manage human social affairs for biosustainability.” The wicked fool said. “We need victorious, anarchistic, atheistic, free-market loving citizens, not mob democracies, crony-capitalism, fascistic tyrants, or technological socialistic dictators.”
“One can resist state coercion as did Gandhi and M.L. King.” The peddler suggested.
“Every man or woman can resist the state at some level.” The wicked fool said. “But, we are adults. There are many infantile people that mistakenly believe in the success of non-aggressive M.L. King-like tactics. They think they are “free” just because they say they are. Gandhi was successful only because the British did not have a crook like Hoover in office. The British government would have assassinated Gandhi, when he first began troubling them, like the US government did M.L. King. Puerile pacifistic simians unite under the mantle of a common delusion that they will institute a political paradise with free-love and flowers, like ‘60s hippies. It’s a bitter joke! They never survive the simplest of little communication impasses. They can’t even agree on the definition of words like “capitalism”, freedom, free-market, free-enterprise, etc. Strict justice and complete freedom are among those concepts almost too difficult for the majority of people to stomach. Strict Justice means accepting dangerous constraints. Freedom means putting up with your nasty ignorant neighbor’s freedom. Pacifistic simians are magnificently unaware that oppressors will NEVER allow anarchy and biosustainability to flourish. First, we are NOT free, and never have been. The human race has had no experience with anything like freedom since the prehistoric days of 100% hunter-gathering. The guy that started the silk road, Ross Ulbricht, was acting as freely as he could. Zionists took him down. The Zionist predator judge told him his freedom philosophy was so dangerous he needed to stay in the penitentiary for three lifetimes lest we learn freedom from him. When the police come to arrest the strong, the strong will fight. They will fight until the deaths of the predators and agents of predators occur.”
“Or the deaths of the heroes occur.” The peddler said.
“Unfortunately. That is very true. Nonviolence is a political tactic. It does indeed work in the short run, if values are small and shared amongst and between the contenders. It is not blessed by Nature, however. Nature spits on the Gandhis and the M.L. Kings. She means for the fit, or the progeny of the fit, to survive. She selects for them. Weak supplicants are enslaved or ostracized. Their softness destroys both themselves and their healthy but soft competitors. Hard competitors will survive or die. Nature’s mandate is, “Kill as many of the enemy as you can before you go. Leave a better world for your children, or just leave.”. That’s why I have postulated the advent of Communities of Consensus (CoCs).” The wicked fool said. “I believe the human race will wake up in time to fight for its survival.”
“The people, not just those that make up the organization of the state, but outsiders too, are not all equal in their parasitism.” The peddler said. “It’s the lesser predators that you want to wake up?”
“Yes. Many citizens and most state hangers-on could be returned to healthy living habits quickly if the state was dead.” The wicked fool said.
“Or citizens saw that it was moribund.” The peddler said.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “Members of the Communities of Consensus must never go to the state for anything. They must never appeal to the state. Petitioning the state must be viewed as treachery. That definition of treason includes carrying RFID chips in the body.”
“Discipline and succor, within the Communities of Consensus; both must spring from within the Community itself.” The peddler agreed. “I can see that.”
“Not just censure and help, but dignity and a sense of natural biological morality will grow as a matter of course in members of a community.” The wicked fool said. “The state is not necessary for that. If anything, the state prevents biosustainable qualities in its citizens. Each CoC group will issue its own fiat currency backed up by silver. CoCs will not borrow money at interest or acquire any resources gained through fractional banking fraud.” xxx
“What about censure. How does that take place if everyone has to agree?” The peddler asked.
“Of course, not everyone in a community will agree, on everything, initially.” The wicked fool said. “There will always be some dissent, as in a democracy. But dissent and exigent educating conversation, resulting in a practical consensus, is much better than democratic ex cathedra commands, forcing majority will upon an obedient minority. Unlike a democracy, when the community needs to act or refrain from acting, they must agree completely. If not, the CoC will disintegrate, and the members will go their own ways. Reproof can be instilled in a reprobate by shame. We are social animals, and every second of felt shame diminishes our will to live. Shame also will reduce a miscreant’s biosustainability voice quotient, reducing influence and political power. Ostracism from the Community of Consensus on top of shame will castigate virtually the most egregious unwanted behavior sufficiently. A miscreant only needs to feel it is thought to be in the wrong, and it will castigate itself better than any lawyer or state can do. Filibustering members can also be removed by consensus. For continued inclusion, a member must subordinate its non-conforming desire to the general will. If the non-conforming desire is very strong, too strong, the recalcitrant member will leave alone or start its own CoC.”
“What if a CoC member wishes to refrain from killing?” The peddler asked.

Chapter Twenty-Six
“For whatever reason, if the CoC mandates killing, and someone refuses to take part, without the consent of the CoC, that member is a traitor and a predator. It must be removed.” The wicked fool said. “The CoCs are climbing up a steep and muddy slope, grabbing at half-buried rocks along the way to keep from accelerating a slide into the abyss. They are fighting for their existence. It’s not as if there is a shortage of simians. There is no place in a CoC for conscientious objectors.”
“How do you propose to have the CoCs “remove” the parasites? The peddler asked.
“There is a need for a new system to send predators, miscreants, and biological defectives back to from whence they came.” The wicked fool said. “Torturing the condemned, as capital punishment is practiced today, is not the answer. The state draws out the murdering process to a half-hour or more just to satisfy the sadistic blood lust of ignorant lawyers, pols, and their political constituents. Keeping miscreants on Death Row compounds the needless torment. Euthanizing can be made much more humane. Firing squads, the garrote, decapitation, and guillotine have served well in the past to eliminate with little pain the predator, incorrigible felon, and recidivist. A 220volt electrocution is virtually painless. A few mgs of Belcher’s sea snake venom, golden poison-dart frog exudate, or prussic acid kill in less than a minute. Nerve gases that kill instantly can even be applied. Since there is no good or bad, righteous or evil, only relatively unlucky or weak simians, there is no possible excuse for either judging or punishing. Humans must kill, but only for survival, to assist the group to survive, or to protect biosustainability. In time, the Communities of Consensus (CoCs) shall have removed all the spiritually dead (pols, lawyers, priests, bankers, compassion-vultures, etc.). With parasitism dealt such a blow, the human race can return to natural anarchistic civilization.“
“And who will police the CoCs?” The peddler asked.
“There appears to be no alternative.” The wicked fool replied. “The CoCs must police themselves.”
“There will be abuses.” The peddler said.
“Of course, there will be abuses. Life is never free of Entropy.” The wicked fool said. “There are no guarantees. One cannot write a “Bible” that will be sacred and present a perfect plan for planetary Life. Look what a horrible mess the “Holy Bible”, the “Quran”, and the “Talmud” have made of this planet! What we are striving for with biosustainability is survival for all species with as little pain as is necessary. Vigilante justice is hard, and it is often errant. Fortunately, under CoC’ auspices, the few instances where it is unfortunate, will pale next to the hysterical way it is portrayed in the vulgar media. The occasional risk it presents is infinitely better than the negative effects from Written Law, lawyers, democides, totalitarianism, dystopian societies, genocides, thermonuclear war, etc.. Under Communities of Consensus (CoC) direction, Nature, universal consensus, and free-market principles will be humanity’s beacon and only constraints. If the Pontibus is a part of the new system, there will be no limit to what the human race can accomplish for itself and its “also-rans”. Natural Resources will return, habitat and energy will become cheap. Human beings will, once again, be the free custodians of the planet and not its executioners. Custodianship and animans units will be the new religion, not death-worship and the accumulation of caedere wealth.”
“It’s been said that a free-market is survival of the greediest.” The peddler said.
“There is a great deal of truth in that aphorism. That being said, it does not mean that Jewish Communism, Fabian Socialism, or Luciferian Zionism are any better. The latter three require authoritative coercion and are recipes for annihilation.” The wicked fool said. “A free-market, with animans wealth as an aspiration, can only aid Life and the human race. Capitalism, married with Technology and Territoriality, is absolutely necessary if we are to challenge that which Nature intended for us with our native DNA. But, these three are also a prescription for extinction without humane science to control them. If we are to continue to evolve, biosustainability must be paramount and protected. Biology must take its place as the final arbiter. Technology and Territoriality are like oil and water. They do not mix w/o an emulsifier like science. Unaccompanied contemporary imitations of civilization are not up to the task, as we see poignantly in the current surveillance state. If Technology and Territoriality are to continue to exist, future consensus civilization must scientifically seal them off from, (and keep them subjected to), humanity and Communities of Consensus. If Technology and Territoriality cannot be scientifically harnessed, or separation cannot be maintained in the interest of humanity and Life, the Communities of Consensus, CoCs, must make stringent provisions for their control or elimination. They cannot co-exist, otherwise with humanity, without inevitable war. In a war situation, the Communities of Consensus may be destroyed. Tyranny, enslavement and death of humans may arise unlike anything that has gone before.”
“Uncontrolled technology, allied with artificial intelligence, is unimaginable.” The peddler said. “Just the thought of it is too much to endure.”
“Isn’t it?” The wicked fool said. “It would be unsustainable. Sustainable civilization means small groups united, internally and externally, by anarchical consensus, atheism, eugenics, euthanasia, and controlled violence. Homo sapiens sapiens will not survive as a species if it does not change its hedonistic and callous behavior. We are at the top of the growth curve now. To avoid extinction, we have but three options. 1. We must provide more habitat by increasing the Earth’s radius with the Pontibus Great Bridges, or 2. We must throw out our caedere values, or 3. Both 1 & 2.”
“So, you think there is still hope?” The peddler asked.
“Yes.” The wicked fool answered. “But not if we continue along the same path. When I left MIT in 1983, 95% of my colleagues believed that the human race was doomed, and global warming signified that the dying had already started. They believed there was no hope for the planet. They felt simian ignorance was just too great. No matter how bloody the CoCs become, to achieve human survival, the groups will be no more savage than the ZWO promises to be. What difference does it make if you die by bullet or a cerebral switching-off signal?”
“Dead is dead.” The peddler said.
The wicked fool continued. “The great difference is that the CoCs will be selective and kill only those simians not deserving of life. The ZWO will be indiscriminate, protecting the caedere wealthy, regardless of fitness and predatory inclinations. We must smelt our values in the crucible of biosustainability and anarchy, uncontaminated by insane mysticism, state violence, Written Law, and toxic medicine. To choose the option #2, I just mentioned, throwing out caedere values, we must revisit much earlier human cultures than the Sumerians and learn from them. More astrological-based civilizations, such as have been built repetitively over the past few millennia, are not the answer.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with civilization?” The peddler asked.
“I thought I already explained that civilizations do not work!” The wicked fool said. “Especially the astrological-religio-civilizations that start as and always degenerate into tyrannies, democides, or genocides. During their necessary destruction, they create tremendous pain and suffering. The first civilizations that may have lasted over a few millennia, supposedly, according to credible records, gave humanity its first law codes. One Law code preceded that of Hammurabi by nearly 600 years. If Sumerian records and archaeological facts, later than 11,600 BCE, are at all credible, that code’s statutes may have come from extraterrestrials. If so, it was a prescription for mathematical tyranny. The Sumerians used those laws to create a typical state, raping the optimistic populace and the virgin environment, whichever gave the least resistance. They cut down the Cedars of Lebanon, other forests and pristine wildernesses. The caedere wealth generated enabled the state to subject, poison, and keep poisoned the Sumerian homeland for thousands of years. The human cancer spread around the globe. It has never stopped. The mathematical drive to accumulate caedere gold symbols by controlling or destroying the environment, ridiculing custodianship, and stifling human creativity, proceeds non-stop.”
“So, for thousands of years subsequent, humans have been making the same mistakes, for the same reasons.” The peddler said.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “And, it’s understandable, if we are following in the footsteps of mathematical tyranny from past ant-like extra-terrestrial civilizations. Why do you think the Talmudic religion developed?”
“I have no idea.” The peddler said.
“To destroy healthy creative civilizations.” The wicked fool replied. “Talmudists of all flavors have used the Talmud for millennia to justify their horrendous crimes and deceptions against healthy creative peoples. Despite all the mathematical, analytical rhetoric to confuse the creative goy, it’s the reason over 120 goy societies have kicked out the Talmudists.”
“Now, I’m confused!” The peddler countered. “You said that the New World Order is essentially a Zionist product, quasi-civilization, as is the new United States. Jews want tyrannical, brutal, and inhuman empires. They want to enslave and destroy the Gentiles! Look how they are transforming the USA today. Look at Israel today, or the Soviet Union and Rothschild’s Third Reich yesterday. Tyrannies, all mathematical tyrannies, genocides, democides, cruelty beyond measure.”
“Yes. That’s true.” The wicked fool said. “The people that want empires, genocides, brutality, huge inhuman tyrannical states, like the ZSA, ZWO, the Soviet Union, the Third Reich, and Israel are Talmudists. These horrible civilizations are not creative and healthy. They are virtually all Khazarian edifices, but they use Talmudic scriptural obscenities to deceive and rape the world, including many Talmudic quasi-Jews. They use the name Jew and the Talmud to sell the tyranny of Zionism to deceived Talmudic simians. It’s working, too.”
“So. The Talmud is another The Prince?“ The peddler asked.
“No. The Prince had Machiavelli.” The wicked fool said. “The Talmud only had a bunch of bored Semitic fag priests. But you’re almost right in spirit. The Talmud is a tyranny builder, a civilization destroyer not a creative group designer. Jews destroy cultures not create them.”
“So, Khazarian Jews are not real Hebrews.” The peddler said.
“No.” The wicked fool said. “Khazars are genetic Gentiles. Nobody knows what a “real Jew” is. A Zionist is a figurative rapist. A Talmudic Jew is as much a brutal simian slave as is a Christian or a Muslim.”
“Would a real Jew be human?” The peddler asked.
“I think some could be, yes.” The wicked fool said. “I suppose it would depend on how much Homo sapiens eusapiens DNA it possessed, i.e. if it were missionable.”
“So. The Talmud, like Machiavelli’s work, is a primer for anti-social deception. It can be used both to create and destroy civilizations.” The peddler said.
“Yes. But, I do not think it is a good idea to attempt to find “true” Hebrews to use to destroy the ZWO.” The wicked fool said.
“Why not?” The peddler asked. “Genetic quasi-Jews could aid us. Israel’s minority could stop participating in the persecution of Palestinians and start helping us destroy insidious Khazarian Rothschild projects.”
“I don’t think there is much chance of that.” The wicked fool said. “Anyway, it’s time to reform our species. How can we do that, using Talmudic mathematical distortions of reality as a model? You want to form the basis for our new civilization by using lies and deception? I couldn’t stomach it. Could you?”
“No.” The peddler said. “I really wouldn’t want to.”
“There are many ways to destroy a state.” The wicked fool said. “Lies work, but if we use lies to destroy the ZWO or the KWO, Khazarian World Order, once again, what’s to prevent us from using lies to build our creative and healthy Communities of Consensus civilization?”
“Nothing.”
“You may be right.” The wicked fool said. “But, still on the destruction step, how can we not use the same actions against the state to destroy it that the state uses against the citizens to enslave them?”
“Didn’t we just agree on the answer to that question?” The peddler asked.
“I’m not sure we agreed.” The wicked fool said. “We shouldn’t use lies and deception to destroy states if we can’t prevent the distortions’ subsequent use in creating our Communities of Consensus, (CoCs)?”
“Of course not.”
“The ZWO will use violence.” The wicked fool said. “We can’t fight violence without violence any more than we can fight lies and deception without using lies and deception. That means we use violence. Violence is blessed by Nature. Generally, Written Law smiles on the use of lies, deception, and treachery to gain caedere wealth, particularly if lawyers are needed to prosecute it. Do we use deception and lies to fight the ZWO? Of course, we use lies and deception. Nature blesses human camouflage.”
“I don’t understand.” The peddler said.
“It’s simple.” The wicked fool said. “We would be better advised to allow deception to destroy predation and disallow it for biosustainability and gaining wealth.”
“But, if we use deception and prevarication in our propaganda to destroy, we are no better than the Talmudic slaves or cheap Zionist thugs?” The peddler said.
“We aren’t?” The wicked fool asked.
“Of course, we aren’t.” The peddler said. “Do we want to risk contaminating and defiling our new society by using deception in the building of the Communities of Consensus?”
“Perhaps, yes.” The wicked fool said. “Will the human race pay for that deception in the future? Of course. How badly will it suffer for that deception, and will it be worth the suffering? I don’t know. The Communities of Consensus (CoC) will have to answer that question at every bifurcation on the way forward, at every decision point. One cannot make blanket violence statements or strategic and tactical dogma, always valid, applicable to hypothetical individuals and events, on a piece of paper, for future use. The state of life and the human condition is too fluid for that. That’s why belief in an objective morality is such a farce. Imagine! Obeying dead men’s counsel, created for living in the past century or so.”
“I see your point. That type of behavior is also a recipe for tyranny.” The peddler said. “Just like the “Bible” and such. It would be like trying to fight blind or with one arm disallowed.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven
“That’s right.” The wicked fool said. “We must be pragmatic. The “end” does justify the means. There is no good or bad. The part that is supremely difficult is deciding if the “end” is correct and applicable for all of the means. Can we appropriate the risk of using them for all of creation? Also, “Ends” change. Sometimes the “Ends” change right before our eyes. What is especially devastating is how the “Means” have an insidious way of becoming “Ends” and vice versa. That is why custodianship is such a hard discipline to understand. Admiration, glory, fame and respect are as worthless for sentiments and guides as are repugnance, humiliation, notoriety, and shame when one considers the source . . . all simian. Our only possible purpose, as living human creatures, seems to be Life’s survival and the elimination or diminution of universal suffering. One can be achieved by divesting completely from one to the other. That is not wise. What brings the distress to us is our not knowing where to place the actual separation? We are dangerously close to being simply either powerless toys of fiendish manipulators or total victims of Entropy. To stay on this planet, or in this dimension, I need to see that I am having some affect at destroying the state and assisting biosustainability. That is necessary but not sufficient. I also need to know that my existence is not causing more gratuitous suffering in the world than would my absence. Those are my beacons, my commandments. If I need to lie to destroy a predator, I will. But, don’t expect me to continue prevaricating when I am counseling my CoC friends.”
“Free will?”
“Only its appearance exists. Our environment (internal and external, living and dead), plus the Zionist-owned media and their perception manipulators negate the results of most meaningful and pure self-examination. Knowing oneself is a prerequisite for free will and absolutely necessary for any Written Law holding us accountable for any discrepancy in personal responsibility for our actions. Since we have been programmed to accept the free will illusion, control is a special aspect of conduct that we do not understand completely.” The wicked fool said. “Decisions are made for us, by the media, our bodies, and our commensals, long before we are conscious of even making decisions. Only by having a mission do any of us have even a slight chance of controlling ourselves. The statistics are there to read. The facts are clear. People KNOW the problem, but they fear too much to correct the situation. Most are just doing their best to get along with everyone else in a world of universal indeterminate consciousness, unaware of the eventual unintended consequences of their behavior or lack of it. In retrospect, I find it difficult to believe I did some things, willingly, at least not with foreknowledge of all their immediate or later ramifications. But, I cannot name the puppeteer that made it my responsibility to have that foreknowledge. Decisions made correctly in one milieu are seen as having been incorrect as the milieu changes with space or time. There is no set optimum that transcends time and space and no universal objective morality. No way exists to translate all biological morality into human moral or philosophical conduct. With both, a small stupidity or error in judgement, and one can be unwittingly pushed over the falls. Such a betrayal could have been induced by any number of biochemical reactions. If we judge, we usurp. I cannot condemn anyone who wrongs me. The hurt is my own fault through my error(s) in judgment via errant cerebral biochemistry or deleterious consequences of my courage, courage grown through similar cerebral biochemistry. What right do I have to expect respite from the unintended consequences of my ignorance, if I cannot grant that same respite to others? That is the silly religious illusion of free-will. It’s a state of mind, buried within superstitious irresponsibility, that presupposes a navigable consciousness. I have trusted, without any excuse, in the vagaries of my brain’s salt solution. As a result, much of what I attempted exploded in my face. Other edifices that I have built over the last fifty years, on foundations of my intellect, are now crumbling around my feet. I am not alone. Homo sapiens sapiens lacks sufficient wisdom to create edifices that last. It functions largely within illusion, not objective truth. Quantum mechanics mocks our feeble intellect’s attempts to understand a world run on general relativity and Newtonian physics. We cannot plan far enough ahead to confront Entropy’s changes in time and space. Nature can confront changes, and She will continue to do so. Only by collaborating with Nature can we hope to stay extant. If we do not, Entropy will triumph, without us.”
The peddler took out his collected works of William Shakespeare and turned the pages until he came to Troilus and Cressida, Act IV, scene IV, line 10 and read, “And sometimes we are devils to ourselves, when we will tempt the frailty of our powers, presuming on their changeful potency.”
“He was a wise man, wasn’t he?” The wicked fool said, when the peddler stopped reading.
The peddler did not respond to the comment but asked. “What about personal responsibility, if there is no free will?”
“A very good question, to which I do not have a very good answer.” The wicked fool said. “It is as unanswerable as are “can I trust my judgement?” or “from where did matter come?”. Every person represents a new opportunity to reverse or advance the human race and biosustainability. But there are no valid protocols which correctly lead the way. I can only throw your question onto the back of the mission. As a tool for biosustainability, one needs to answer that “personal responsibility” question with caution. As a custodian, the answer will not always be as obvious as, “You will know your responsibility when you feel its want, see its need.””
“But when a CoC needs to know the answer. .?” The peddler asked.
“Your question is unquestionably apropos.” The wicked fool said. “To whatever Communities of Consensus (CoCs) arise, caution is advised when forming the consensus. With time and perspective, the most responsible behavior can appear irresponsible, and visa versa.”
“You’re saying, be careful when you “know your responsibility, when you feel its want, see its need.”, because the actions you take in response to that felt responsibility may not be apropos.” The peddler said.
“Exactly.” The wicked fool said. “We are here, at this point in time and space, to feel the need to fight for something. Something in the universe appears to be at risk if we fail. It may even be ourselves we fight to either preserve or dissolve. If we are a simulation, and it appears we are, we are here for reasons not in our own interest. The Great Pontibus Bridges and the CoCs are the only way for Life, under conditions of reasonable probability, to reduce existential risk. Conditions change around us, every second, and yet we still must act, while blind, to choose what we “see” as good.”
“Even though there is no good or evil?” The peddler said.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.” The peddler said.
“But you seem to think that I do.” The wicked fool said.
“Well, frankly yes.” The peddler answered. “You do indeed seem to have an answer for every problem.”
“Oh, how I wish that were true.” The wicked fool replied. “Lately, I seem to have developed a reverse Midas’ touch, as I can’t effect ANYTHING positive. I am not looking for impunity, forgiveness, or sympathy. I accept as much responsibility for my inept actions as is my due. If I am helping, by my incompetence, to diminish the ultimate survivability of Life, or cause needless pain, I accept my just termination as a predator. My defense, as many predators will plead, likewise, is that my abortive actions were not taken, nor their negative results demonstrated, because I willed or wished them to end as such failures. At times, my past behavior seems to have disappeared and, like dissolving sheets of dust, reappears to be superimposed upon subsequent conditions in bizarre re-creations of my earlier conduct. Means tended to twist my past into incomprehensible resurgences of my past into my present self. Why? I can’t answer that question either, except by throwing the guilt on Entropy. Does Entropy’s awesome power also include disordering human history into chaos, as it does the physical universe? The vicissitudes of fate and the inevitability of adverse contingency will forever seek to confound our best intentions and the most perfect of plans. That is all I can say. Power is illusion, and actions are eternal. The consequences of both are permutated with the effects of others in the hands of Entropy. Your actions are no different. They cannot be undone, even those that turn into negatives but done with positive intent. A thrown Molotov cannot be un-thrown.”
“Caution.”
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “None of us really knows why we act the way we do. When we do things, we do them, we think, because we think they are right for us at the time. Brain chemistry and microbial commensalism are controlled by Entropy, not us. There is no free will. There is no personal responsibility. We are not at fault for the consequences of our actions. Why we were put here to suffer so? I do not know. I never expected to end my days as a blind old indigent, but it looks like that is what is in store for me. Animals and plants are my only friends. They are the only moral influences I trust, and I can even betray them. And you seem to think I have all the answers. I have only questions, nothing more.”

“I see.”

I hope so.” The wicked fool said. “A medical doctor destroys a person’s immune system with toxic chemicals that also undermine vitality, spirit, creativity, and raison d’etre. Those noxious excreted chemicals continue destroying the health of the commonwealth as they pass down the line back to the tap. A lying lawyer steals time and money from his client, weakening his prey to the point of collapse. Bankers, priests, enslavers, and compassion-vultures all have their own special systems of wreaking havoc on their prey. These are the characteristics of predatory infection. The human race and the planet are septic, infested heavily with these organizations of caedere predators.”

“We’re sick.” The peddler said.
“Yes.” The wicked fool said. “The immune system of an individual mercilessly searches out and destroys viruses and other hostile-to-the-body microbes. My dream is that someday, Communities of Consensus (CoCs) will be akin to the human race’s immune system. Communities of Consensus (CoCs) will, likewise, search out and destroy the hostile vermin and the auto-immune diseases that these individual predator pests have unleashed. It will be the Community of Consensus’ job to engage these negative forces in battle and remove them where, and whenever, they appear.”
“I’m not so sure.” The peddler equivocated. “You’re putting a lot of faith in these CoCs that may never even appear. I think the human race is doomed.”
“The battle has been engaged, whether humans choose to accept and deploy for the war or not.” The wicked fool said. “Every time a pol steals a person’s life via a tax; every time a lawyer sends a victim to prison, (or keeps one out); every time a banker steals a farm; every time a compassion-vulture gets a subsidy for a freak; every day that venal doctors poison their patients; every tithe a priest cheats out of a dupe; and every time a private citizen does nothing; the ZWO gets stronger, the human race gets weaker, and the planet’s Life’s Blood spills a little more.”
The wicked fool said goodbye to the garlic peddler and never saw the man again. Before he died, the wicked fool got a visit at his pousada from a pretty coboçlo girl. Coming out of the Yanomami territory, where a small bit of jungle still existed, she told the wicked fool that she had traveled down the Apiau River for two days to bring him a letter.
She handed the wicked fool the letter, saying. “My brother left instructions that you were to receive this letter in the event he died.”
The wicked fool stared at where he assumed the girl’s eyes would be but did not take the communiqué. She realized he was blind and asked him if he wished her to read it to him. He did and she read:
“Dear Wicked Fool: The world around us is becoming a fiefdom of the great technology controllers. The predators continue to combine ever more avidly with them. As you told me long ago, if we allow technology, and those who control it, to do what they will, they will ultimately swamp out humanity. One sees the increasing slavery and destruction of human values everywhere. Just about the entire world is learning to believe the lies, the rulers want them to swallow, but not the horrible truth. Every day the artificial intelligence, biometrics, and surveillance grows deeper, stronger and more pervasive. It’s time the rest of the world quits the futile public demonstrations and civil disobedience and gets right into the killing, like I and my people are doing.
After we parted, I did a great deal of thinking. I read some of the books you suggested I read. I traveled northwest, until I entered the Yanomami territory near Venezuela and the last remaining triple-canopy forest. In time, I gathered some indigenes around me and started a Community of Consensus. We accumulated some arms. As we became more effective & violent, we found collaborators, started more CoCs, got bigger arms, and bigger prices on our heads. The pols and legal lice are quite determined to stamp us out. Such beasts exist only because the race of Man does not have the courage and enough male attributes to wipe them off the face of the earth.
There are soldiers and police looking for us, and not only in Amazonia. I understand our rebel movement is sought in every country in South America where we have our CoC freedom cells. We are running out of jungle in which to hide. Many of our members have taken to the mountains, living in caves. We will soon be at serious risk in South America. Perhaps that is fortuitous, since it has already forced some of us to branch out into other parts of the world. So far, we have only been removing medium-sized predators, but we are dreaming of bigger prey. I received a letter last week from a past member of one of my early CoCs. The member has a plan to commandeer the entire Paris to New York hawala transfer network. Imagine how much information and caedere resources such an assault will bring to biosustainability. He has not yet shared any details with the rest of us, for obvious reasons. Two of our strongest ZSA CoCs are answering his needs. We have another member that has discovered the whereabouts of some very large super-predators. Of course, we are hoping it will lead to the whereabouts and vulnerabilities of the dynastic banking families.
We are using all your principles and definitions to teach our young. One maxim in particular has been a constant companion to me. You said, “A famous World War II general once observed that, “superior ability can devastate the negative effects of material shortcomings. Proper direction can confound the enemy’s advantages of better resources, numbers and superior technology.”” We are putting that wisdom to use every day and are not about to raise wooden spears against 50-caliber machine guns. Power’s use and its effects often work to the detriment of those who wield it.
Your slant on booby traps and tunneling knowledge have also proved invaluable. Some of the instruments, the world’s past great guerillas have shown us, deception and camouflage, are also in our toolbox. We all know that now is not the time to seek to hold territory but only strike, run and hide. We have had some successes, and we have had some terrible defeats. I narrowly escaped four attempts on my life and do not expect to keep the pace up much longer. There are a number of different prices on my head. Not even one of them is as small as 1000 times as much as I made in a year of selling garlic. We need more help with the internet, surveillance-avoidance, and better weapons, but we are still fighting, every day, to save ourselves and Life. As much as I want the human race to achieve the stars both technologically and factually, I also want my sister, my child, my species, and the disenfranchised to continue on this planet. It is not easy to know which road to take, and it causes me a great deal of unease. Your Great Bridges books are with me always.
I am beginning to believe that anyone with any sizable amount of caedere wealth is forever compromised. Brains age in inexplicable ways. Old caedere rich people cannot be taken at face value, many not trusted at all. Since the advent of stem cell & brain transplants that goes double. I do not know enough biology to speculate very far on human consciousness, but I fear there are old people, handling the reins of power, that are vacillating in and out of non-compos mentis, especially those which have integrated with the digital world. They change the simian sense of reality, for us and themselves, like they are baking sugar cookies, and with just about as much care for the end product. Although it may just be scare-porn theater for them, some make it seem like they will even risk a nuclear war. I suppose that is easier to arrange, when old, since they might want to enjoy the company of every living creature on their road to oblivion. I’m just an honest custodian. What do I know about how the super-predators control my contingencies? I feel that as long as nuclear weapons exist, or the knowledge of how to make them does, the human race is ultimately doomed. Nevertheless, I am fighting to save the human race with every cell in my body. As you made me see, there is no legitimate authority. But, organizing for rebellion means accepting organizers. With such comes a return to authority and hierarchy. War and revolution, organized resistance and bloody mass sacrifices of custodians, resisting that authority and hierarchy, will never succeed consistently. Individual to CoC-sized custodian groups surreptitiously terminating individual or small groups of predators is the only chance we have.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The letter continued. “When we fight the state, we fight annihilation as well as ignorance. As you made me see, if we do not fight it, we will soon no longer exist. I want my people to survive, not walk obediently into that cold great negritude. The speciecidal super-predators may take my life, but they will never take away from me the fact that I gave my all, my very last bit of life for the right and capacity to exist on a beautiful living planet. I do not want my child to inherit a large ball of dry frozen lifeless dirt. Thank you for changing my life, for making me aware of my purpose. I never felt more alive than I have these last few years. There is something else you knew, and I could not yet understand. I thought at first you were just trying to sell me a form of sanitized hate. I did not see how we could be custodians, not judges, and still kill predators. I guess it is the natural hunter in all humans that makes it easier for me now to understand. I learned that there is very little in life that compares to the positive feeling one gets, strangling, with one’s very own hands, the parasitic essence out of an incorrigible super-predator. As we continue to branch out into the furthest corners of the globe, there will be much more blood spilled.
I do much soul-searching, as you advised. I think I know why fate punishes or at least does not reward our brand of human kindness. It is not compatible with the objective of Project Planet Earth. I think that our creators wanted to use us to sack Planet Earth. They want everything reduced to caedere Au for them. I know you have read the Holy Bible & the Torah and are familiar with the Garden of Eden allegory. The entire Planet Earth is that beautiful Garden of Eden paradise. The “gods” have placed us here to act as insensate automatons like Adam and Eve. If we do not sack the planet well, and we do not turn this beautiful living paradise into an ugly barren wasteland, devoid of Life and gold, we are not appreciated. The fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is the awareness of caedere wealth. Your Pontibus and animans concept are totally against our programmers’ caedere objective. You, and now we, are rebelling against the gods, not just the bankers.

During my garlic peddling days, I once met a man in Maranhao that was raising chickens on the upper floors of a hotel. It was the strangest thing. Every bird was crippled in some way. Not one could even walk. Each bird would flap its wings in an apparent frantic attempt to control its movement and achieve a semblance of mobility. I asked him what was wrong with all his chickens. He replied that there was nothing wrong with them. They were exactly what he wanted. I thought he was daft, until he explained. It all started when he bought some hatchlings from a feed store. The store’s proprietor cheated him, selling him a good proportion of crippled chicks mixed in with the rest for which he paid. At first, he said, he was pissed off and nearly went back to demand redress. But, as the situation lixiviated on his mind for a time, it occurred to him that it was a good way to raise chickens in Maranhao. Maranhao is more free than other states and has no effective law. If someone cheats you or steals your chickens, ducks, pigs, fruit, bicycle, etc., unless you take the matter into your own hands, you’re just out of luck. You’ll seldom get redress or see the lost items again. Nobody will ever snitch on the thief or make him pay a recompense. False witness testimony is cheap. The chicken farmer said he was getting too old to run the hotel, couldn’t handle 24-hour drunks anymore. He closed the hotel and turned the upper floors into an egg factory, using the genetically defective chickens as his producers. The hotel’s height was too much for easy access to thieves. The peripheral railings around the former hotel’s sundecks were too low to prevent normal chickens from flying away but not crippled chickens. The handicapped birds were just what he needed. The farmer saved the chickens’ lives, protected his feed investment, and made a good living selling eggs. He said he sold eggs from chickens before raising the crippled ones and was accustomed to losing half his flock every year to thieves. It amounted to thousands of reals in lost time and feed. Now he has an agreement with the crooked feed store operator. He buys crippled chicks at a discount and only buys the defectives. He loses virtually none.

I think the computer technicians, running our simulated lives, are doing the same thing with us as this crippled chicken farmer does with his flock. Our programmers created us as intentionally defective simulations. They are exploiting us to profit just as this farmer is doing with his crippled chickens. The majority of simians are intent upon praying to “God” while they’re killing for Rothschild and the other dynastic families. That farmer’s chickens cannot fly away any more than simians can escape their own slavery. Super-predators too are obedient simulations, enslaved simians, chickens that can’t walk, refusing to taste of the forbidden fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Like Eve, you and I have tasted, eaten fully, and we are “damned” by the experience. The Gift of Mission is a corruption of the simulation program, our “Hell”. The Flaming Sword is our refusal or “inability” to return to irresponsibility, ignorance, brutality, and unwitting caedere slavery. The only reason the “gods” have not removed us yet is that it is not cost-efficient or the tragedies of our lives serve as examples to others of the consequences of the possession of forbidden knowledge. How long now haven’t we been walking on the edge of the precipice?
I am a predicide, and I shall be one until my last breath. I am not a autospeciecide. I will stay the course as long as I can. Every day, I put the vision in my mind’s eye of waking unto a day to share with a free, natural, and healthy humanity, existing stateless & godless on a healthy growing planet. All the people involved in the CoC movement around the world do the same, and we all dream about that wonderful glorious day. It may not be on this planet, perhaps in another dimension, but we dream of it, nevertheless. As you are reading this message now, it is obvious that I, myself, never saw that day, except in those dreams. Hail Humanity! Hail Life!”
The End

Copyright © 2017 by Larry L. Slot, Published digitally in 2017 by Aloirav Press, Andirobal, Maranhao, Brasil. All rights reserved. © This digital book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be decirculated, lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, in any form, without the publisher’s prior written consent.

O Vendedor Ambulante de Alho
Por Larry Lee Slot

Copyright © 2017 by Larry L. Slot, Published digitally in 2017 by Aloirav Press, Andirobal, Maranhao, Brasil. All rights reserved. © This digital book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be decirculated, lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, in any form, without the publisher’s prior written consent.

Você é um bom, temer-de-Deus, respeitar a lei, patriota? Não leia mais! Este livro não é para você. Embora alguns possam considerar o seu conteúdo Promethean, este NÃO é um bom livro. O iconoclasma articulado pertence ao gênero “Em caso de emergência – quebrar vidro”. As opiniões aqui expressas são apenas para se pensar se alguém está disposto a arriscar a alma eterna, contemplando sobre elas.
Ravmond Aloirav

Capítulo Um
Como a maioria das cidades fronteiriças no Brasil, Apiaunhai não se orgulhava de nenhuma lei, nem de outros esgotos. A estrada empoeirada, passando por uma pequena coleção de cabanas de barro, estava perto da Venezuela a cerca de 25 quilômetros do território Yanomami. Foi no extremo norte do Brasil, no Estado de Roraima. Nosso homônimo titular cortou uma figura interessante, mas não rara, enquanto andava pelo caminho de carro não pavimentado, esquivando-se de sulcos cheios de esgoto. Os sulcos levaram diretamente para o centro da cidade, a Praça. Cinco grandes anéis de alho seco e retorcido pendiam ao redor de seu pescoço. Vinte ou mais, presos ao cinto, protegiam ambos os lados magros de vampiros imprudentes. O cinto sustentava suas calças encurtadas. Uma rede e alguns livros suspensos de uma mochila pequena, e uma cantina da agua balançou de que. O chapéu, ele brincava, não era a variedade de palha brasileira comum, mas tinha um estilo mais mexicano. Seu rosto era um rosto normal, secado ao sol, fino, caboclo com olhos que traíam seu comportamento pensativo incomum.
“Alho! Alho! “Ele gritou. “Cinco Reais! Alho! Alho! ”
Ao chegar à Praça, como um pagode, encontrou um comprador e rapidamente empacotou o dinheiro recebido da venda. O vendedor ambulante continuou ao redor da praça, 2 ou 3 vezes, gritando seu desejo de vender a erva. Cada vez que passava em frente ao único restaurante e bar da cidade, ele olhava. O objeto de sua inveja era uma mesa apoiando uma cerveja. Dois clientes adornavam as cadeiras embelezando a mesa de plástico. Apreciando cerveja e tira gostos na sombra de uma árvore de Brasil era algo que o vendedor ambulante do alho amaria experimentar então. Ele colocou a mão no bolso e encontrou apenas moeda suficiente para um pequeno almoço e um quarto.
Lembrou-se de ter visto um par de árvores na estrada, quando entrou na cidade. Era verão, e ele sempre poderia amarrar sua rede para eles e comprar uma cerveja com o dinheiro que economizava de aluguel de quarto. Isso ainda não resolver a questão de saber se ele queria comer e banhar mais do que ter essa cerveja. Como ele tentou fazer a sua mente, ele olhou para baixo. O resto do corpo, no entanto, ainda estava preocupado cerebralmente, e ele o virou na direção de onde veio. Bater em um rapais, como ele fez isso, ele quase bateu o homem para baixo. Como era, o homem sacudido deixou cair uma escultura pequena que carregava. Escapando sua preocupação, o vendedor ambulante de alho pegou o objeto, antes que ele pudesse cair e quebrar.
“Desculpe-me.” O vendedor ambulante disse ao homem, devolvendo a obra de arte ameaçada. “Me desculpe senhor. Eu estava pensando em algo e não olhando onde eu estava indo.”
“Nenhum mal feito, cara.” O homem respondeu. “Eu ouso dizer, eu estava pensando sobre a mesma coisa que você. Desde que você me salvou de destruir duas semanas de trabalho árduo e bom gosto, eu deveria mostrar meu apreço. Quer compartilhar uma cerveja comigo para suavizar minha boa fortuna sobre seu embaraço? ”
“Não pensando em perguntar como o sujeito sabia que ele estava sonhando com uma cerveja naquela tarde quente no Brasil, o vendedor ambulante respondeu. “Eu ficaria muito contente, senhor, mas meus fundos são um pouco limitados hoje, e eu não posso retornar seu gesto amável.”
“Não há problema.” O sujeito respondeu. “Recentemente, recebi algumas más notícias e preciso de alguma animação. Além disso, eu tenho sido seriamente alho-privado, por alguns dias agora, e eu tenho certeza que podemos fazer um acordo, uma vez que a nossa desconfiança fortuita diminua.”
“Isso soa como uma ideia esplêndida para mim.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu.
O vendedor ambulante não teve nenhuma ideia, naturalmente, em que estima a gente local prendeu seu interlocutor & logo-para-ser benfeitor. Ele só sabia que estava prestes a desfrutar de uma cerveja gelada, durante a seca temporada de verão na América do Sul equatorial. Não era nada menos do que milagroso que o provedor apareceu no momento certo. Ambos se dirigiram para a barra ao ar livre para sentar-se entre as sementes vermelhas brilhantes sob a árvore do Brasil. Quando chegaram, eles tomaram seus assentos de plástico e deixaram a garçonete vê-los fazê-lo.
“Boa tarde,” disse a Guarani bonita, de 13 anos, quando ela tomou a ordem.
“Boa tarde, Leide” O sujeito local respondeu. “Vamos tomar uma cerveja. E posso usar aquele banquinho ali?”
“Certamente.” A menina respondeu e saiu com sua ordem.
No Brasil, mesmo um tolo malvado pode pegar uma cerveja, e um minuto depois, uma Schincariol gelada e dois copos de plástico sentou-se na mesa de plástico bem riscado entre os dois novos conhecidos. O sujeito local colocou gentilmente o objeto de arte sobre o banquinho de plástico que a empregada do bar trouxe com a cerveja. O objeto era um velho artesão de plástico e um cachorro, ambos nus. Em torno do pescoço do velho era um preço.
O sujeito local disse ao vendedor ambulante, “Isto é como eu gostaria de fazer alguns Reais, vendendo minha arte, como você faz seu alho.”
O vendedor ambulante olhou para o objeto de arte com admiração e disse. “É lindo. Como você pode vender tal coisa?”
“Como você, preciso viver. A existência não é barata. ” O sujeito local respondeu.
“Sim. Isso é verdade. O vendedor ambulante concordou. “Eu tenho vendido minhas ervas por meses e ainda não tenho bastante economizado até mesmo pagar por uma cerveja.”
“Por que você vende alho?” O sujeito local perguntou.
“Eu tento viver simplesmente, para que outros possam simplesmente viver.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu.
“Esse é um sentimento muito alto. Incomum para esta área. Você é nativa? ” Disse o sujeito local.
“Sim. Eu entendo que eu nasci na Amazônia. “O vendedor ambulante respondeu. “Manaus.”
“Você não acredita? ” Perguntou o sujeito local.
“Oh, sim eu faço. Minha mãe disse que me comprou de minha mãe biológica em um leilão de órfãos por duas blusas no estacionamento do Paraíba.” Explicou o vendedor ambulante.
“E isso é desconfortável para acreditar?” O sujeito local disse.
“Um pouco.”
“Não há outras coisas, você poderia vender, que traria mais dinheiro?” O cara local perguntou.
Depois de encher o copo com um pouco de cerveja, o vendedor ambulante disse. “Sim. Tem. Mas . . . ”
“Si-i-i-m?”
“Bem,” o vendedor ambulante explicou. “É bobagem, eu suponho, mas 99% da doença humana é devido à dieta incorreta e estilos de vida de mau saúde. Não quero que minhas tentativas de sobrevivência ajudem na infelicidade de ninguém.”
O colega local concordou, acrescentando. “Então, você vende algo com pouca chance de fazer mau?”
“Sim.”
“Esses são alguns sentimentos de alto nível que você expressou.” O sujeito local disse. “Estou impressionado.”
“Obrigado. O alho é o único tratamento que funciona moderadamente bem para todas as doenças e não tem efeitos secundários prejudiciais.” O vendedor ambulante disse, não ignorando o elogio.
“Aqueles doentes, por outras razões, não têm negócios na Terra.” O sujeito local disse, balançando a cabeça.
“Talvez.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Praticamente todos os médicos devem se ater às emergências, dando conselhos sobre antibióticos, testes de laboratório, dieta e erros de estilo de vida, e parar de cortar as pessoas, prescrevendo drogas neles, ou mesmo sugerindo drogas neles.” O sujeito local disse.
“Você provavelmente está certo,” disse o vendedor ambulante, acalmando-se equivocamente o interlocutor.
“Você já conversou com um médico sobre suas ideias de saúde?” Perguntou o sujeito local.
“Não.”
“Eu discuti algumas coisas com eles. Os charlatães falam como sistemas de suporte de vida para panfletos de drogas. Eles papagaio propaganda genérica da empresa farmacêutica como robôs. Eu não acho que nenhum deles saiba como pisar um grau fora do azimute aprovado das empresas farmacêuticas.”
“Eu falo com muito poucos médicos.” O vendedor ambulante disse, evitando qualquer posição controversa.
“Então, você é um cruzado de alho?” Perguntou o sujeito local.
“Claro, não.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu. “Você está zombando de mim.”
“Não. Nem um pouco.” O sujeito local disse. “Estamos presos aqui juntos, até que nossa cobertura de embaraço diminui. Só estou tentando compreendê-lo um pouco melhor.
“Compreendo. É simples. Eu só não acho que uma exibição ostentaria de riqueza é necessária para a minha felicidade.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Especialmente se alguém ou algo tem que pagar por isso com a sua angústia.”
“Você tem muitas ideias iluminadas. Não é fácil adquirir na Amazônia ou aqui em Roraima. Você viveu no Brasil toda a sua vida?” Perguntou o sujeito local.
“Não. Eu só recentemente retornei da Europa, África e Ásia. Estou viajando para lá há vinte anos. O vendedor ambulante respondeu com um pouco de orgulho. “Até o inverno passado, eu fui um mercante marinheiro.”
“Ahh.” O sujeito local disse. “Isso explica isso. Conheci poucas pessoas aqui que apreciam perseguições ou ideias intelectuais. A maioria nem sabe prestar atenção.”
“Eu sei.” O vendedor ambulante concordou. “Descobri as mesmas coisas.”
“Eu mesma estive no caminho ruim. Muitas vezes.” O sujeito local disse. “Eu nasci pobre. Eu estou dirigindo essa maneira outra vez. O Brasil não me deixa viver decentemente, já que não tenho um CPF ou um Cartão de Identidade válido “.
“Eu não entendo.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Por que você não tem um?”
“Como você provavelmente notou do meu sotaque, eu não sou um nativo.” O sujeito local disse.
“Eu vejo.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Como é que eles não te expulsaram?”
“Eu tenho uma criança brasileira.” O sujeito local disse. “Se eu não violar leis Brasileiras, e alimentar meu filho, regularmente, o País me protege de expulsão e extradição”.
“Você está em perigo de extradição?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim.” O sujeito local disse. “E tão pobre quanto estou me tornando, estou em perigo de expulsão e extradição.”
“Mesmo?”
“Sim. Hoje eu aprendi que um imposto está logo a ser arrecadado em minha propriedade aqui, e pode ser muito mais do que eu posso pagar. É por isso que vim aqui para beber meus problemas a fora. “O sujeito local disse.
“Isso raramente funciona.” O vendedor ambulante advertiu. “Desperdiçar seu dinheiro em cerveja não ajudará a pagar o imposto.”
“Não, não vai.” O sujeito local disse. “Mas, tanto desespero como eu sinto, parece mais prudente do que matar o prefeito ladrão e o outro político lixo no momento.”
“Concordo. Essa é uma solução bastante drástica.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Você tem experiência nessa área?”
“Você quer dizer que eu sou um assassino?” O sujeito local esclareceu.
“B-e-m . . . ”
“Está tudo bem. Eu sou, na verdade, como você, de forma tão timidamente, me descreve, “experienciada nessa área”. ” O sujeito local admitiu.
“Deveria me preocupar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Se você quiser.” O sujeito local respondeu. “Sou muito asocial.”
“Eu acho que vou arriscar.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “A cerveja é muito importante.”
“É o seu velório.” O colega local brincou, e continuou. “Quer uma explicação?”
“Sim.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Se você está tão inclinado.”
“Eu sou.” O sujeito local disse, e continuou. “Eu nasci nos EUA, você vê. E, como eu disse anteriormente, muito pobre. Em 1964, quando eu tinha 16 anos, ingressou no Corpo de Fuzileiros Navais dos Estados Unidos e fui para o Vietnã para matar comunistas por Rothschild. Eu devo ter matado mil ou mais antes de retornar aos EUA em 1968.”
“Entendo.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Foi aí que você pegou sua entendendo do homicídio. Como você chegou aqui?”
“Como todos os Americanos, nascidos depois de 1913, eu era um 15 de Abril escravo de Rothschild, comprado e vendido na N.Y. Bolsa Cambio. Eu não queria continuar um escravo, então escapei para o Brasil. Uma vez que eu tinha um filho aqui, eu sabia que estava seguro, então eu permaneci.” O sujeito local respondeu.
“Mas, você ainda é um fugitivo?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Ai sim. Eu serei assim, até que eu morra.” O sujeito local respondeu, acenando ao indigena por outra cerveja.
No mesmo momento, o vendedor ambulante levantou-se para usar o mictório. O colega local o viu ele pedindo instruções de outro cliente alguns segundos depois. O outro cliente conversou com o vendedor ambulante por um minuto ou dois antes de liberá-lo para seu alívio da bexiga. O sujeito local notou o cliente loquaz olhando para o assento vago do vendedor ambulante, duas ou três vezes, enquanto conversava com o vendedor ambulante. A cerveja nova chegou, e o vendedor ambulante retornou pouco depois. O sujeito local encheu a taça do vendedor ambulante e casualmente perguntou ao vendedor ambulante sobre sua conversação do pre-mictório com o cliente fofoqueira. O vendedor ambulante afastou a pergunta e tentou fazer uma pequena conversa, mas o sujeito local era persistente.
O vendedor ambulante parecia envergonhado e disse. “Ele me disse para ser cuidadoso com você desde que você era malvado e louco, o tolo malvado da cidade.”

Capítulo Dois
“Eu pensei o mesmo.” O tolo malvado local malvado e louco disse.
“Por que eles dizem essas coisas?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“É uma longa história. Mas, se você ainda tem tempo para explicações, não me importo de lhe dizer.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Se isso não vai envergonhá-lo?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Por favor.” O tolo malvado local respondeu. “Como posso ter vergonha da minha situação, quando estou falando com um homem que quase me virou há um momento e foi vendido por 2 camisas?”
“Blusas.”
“Blusas?”
“Blusas – não camisas.” O vendedor ambulante corrigiu.
“Oh, certo, desculpe.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Está tudo bem. Por favor continue. Tenho tempo para ouvir. Tenho dinheiro suficiente para comer e tomar banho.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu.
“Tudo bem.” O tolo malvado disse. “Tudo começou quando eu cheguei aqui, cerca de 20 anos atrás. Substancialmente mais ricos, eu estava tendo algumas cervejas aqui mesmo, neste mesmo bar, debaixo desta mesma árvore. Um cara ouviu que eu era um gringo e veio para iniciar uma conversa. ”
“Provavelmente procurando obter algumas cervejas gratuitas.” O vendedor ambulante falou.
“Suspeitei, mas passei alguns minutos com ele, qualquer jeito. Um par de meninas parou em nossa mesa. Eu comprei outra rodada e tira gosto para todos nós quatro. Uma das meninas teve de utilizar o banheiro e foi liga reclamando que o lavabo não foi completamente privativo. Ela estava tentando fazer a outra garota ir com ela para outro bar que se gabava de um banheiro mais privado. Antes de partir, fiz uma observação.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Que observação?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Eu disse que parecia estranho para mim que as pessoas não sentem vergonha de colocar comida DENTRO seu corpo, mas têm tanta vergonha de alguém ver que a comida SAIU do mesmo corpo um pouco pior para o desgaste.” O tolo malvado disse.
O vendedor ambulante riu alto e perguntou. “O que eles disseram?”
“Eles não tomaram isso como uma piada, mas pensaram que eu estava falando sério. Eu realmente acredito que eles realmente pensaram que eu não me sentia que tomando uma merda pública justificada vergonha.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por que você diz isso?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou, ligeiramente irritado e pronto para defender seus compatriotas contra um intruso desrespeitoso.
“Porque todos perguntaram se eu não sentia vergonha. Eu ainda não estava familiarizado com a simplicidade dos caboclos locais e descendentes de garimpeiros. Então, eu respondi que em algum momento eu sentia vergonha, e na verdade eu ainda tinha uma sensação de vergonha, em algum lugar, mas, como com essas outras capacidades mentais, força de vontade e paciência, esqueci onde exatamente eu as guardava. Eu disse que eu nunca parecia ser capaz de encontrá-los quando eles eram necessários. Eu disse que sabia que tinha muitas dessas três forças intelectuais. Eles estavam sendo salvos em algum lugar, eu estava certo, desde que eu nunca usei nenhum deles.” O tolo malvado disse.
O vendedor ambulante estava realmente rindo muito e perguntou o que aconteceu depois, então o tolo malvado respondeu. “Não demorou muito, e perdi meus companheiros da esmola. Eu me vi bebendo sozinho. Eu os vi de vez em quando, depois disso, e eles sempre me olhavam estranhamente, mas evitavam todo contato. As pessoas da cidade passavam, às vezes, e abriam conversas comigo. Era, provavelmente, apenas para poder dizer depois que concordavam com a opinião negativa prevalecente do gringo. Eles sempre pareciam ficar igualmente impressionados com minha estranha maneira intelectual.”
“Como é isso?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Bem, como eu lhe disse, eu trabalhei para Rothschild nos anos sessentas no Vietnã, depois voltei para a ESA.”
“ESA?”
“Os Estados Sionizados da América”. O tolo malvado explicou.
“Oh.”
“Por causa do que eu fiz no Vietnã para a ESA, aquele edifício sangrento da máquina de Rothschild, tenho me machucado em meu espírito há cinquenta anos.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu escapei minha escravidão fugindo aqui. Eu me tornei um fugitivarii, levando muito do meu peculium comigo.”
“Peculium?”
“Dinheiro de escravo.” O tolo malvado explicou. “Eu peguei alguns de MEU dinheiro que Rothschild considerou SEU dinheiro.”
“Entendo.”
O tolo malvado continuou. “O que eu não lhe disse foi que entre esses dois eventos, eu mencionei, eu era um estudante de biologia, matemática, química e física na Michigan Estado Faculdade e MIT. Eu recebi graus em todas essas disciplinas na guia de Rothschild. Mais tarde, eu inventei algumas coisas no valor de mais de um bilhão de dólares por ano no laboratório de engenharia genética, eu estabeleci. Eu construí o primeiro organismo transgênico de mexilhão / rato / bactérias do mundo. Eu tenho alguma atenção pública para isso. Rothschild levou uma grande parte da minha vida, e ele me deixou com a ideia de que queria o resto. Eu deixei o ZSA em 1996 porque não queria ajudar outro genocídio de Rothschild, permitindo que a família diabólica e outros para usar as realizações da minha vida para facilitar isso. Eu não atualizei nada perto do que eu também esperava, no entanto. Quando você faz planos, você pinta uma imagem na sua mente do seu sonho. Como esse sonho se manifesta na realidade, de alguma forma, uma lente é colocada sobre a pintura em sua mente. Dependendo da distorção da luz da realidade, os resultados do seu plano são evidenciados. Às vezes, a imagem prova ser verdadeira e, às vezes, uma renderização bizarra sem semelhança com o original aparece. Foi o que aconteceu comigo.”
“Então, você fugiu com o restante de seu ganho legal?” O vendedor ambulante pergunto.
“Precisamente.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Comprei um hidroavião com meio milhão de dólares e vim para o Brasil. Alguém me seguiu até Roraima. Em 1997, eles explodiram meu avião nas margens do Rio Apiau com a maior parte do meu dinheiro dentro.”
“Você não estava nele e machucou?” O vendedor ambulante pergunto.
“Eu estava a cerca de seis metros de distância e acabei gravemente ferido. Eu sou hoje, talvez, um zumbi, fazendo meu tempo no Inferno com todos esses demônios garimpo, consideravelmente mais pobre, e ainda um fugitivo.” O tolo malvado disse, rindo amargamente. “O que está derrotando é que minha foto de passaporte foi danificada. Eu não posso obter outro sem submeter-me aos agentes de Rothschild SEA. Então, eu não posso nunca ser um brasileiro naturalizado. Assim, não posso ganhar muito dinheiro. Minhas economias, o que eu evitei que Rothschild roubasse, e o que não foi explodido, desapareceram. Eu sobrevivi até hoje, ironicamente, apenas por causa de uma lei feita para pessoas ricas. ”
“Mesmo?”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Rico ultrapassa a cidadania no Brasil para pessoas que possuem bens e coletam aluguéis. Portanto, eu alugar quartos em uma pequena pousada eu construí quando eu cheguei aqui. É por isso que estou bebendo hoje, como já lhe disse antes, porque esse imposto, eles querem cobrar na minha pousada, vai fazer minha filha e eu morrer de fome.”
“Eu posso ver como tudo isso afetaria uma “maneira intelectual”.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“É claro.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas isso é apenas parte da razão. Isso apenas perturba um aspecto de minha personalidade cintilante. Eu estava preso aqui, sem livros ou mesmo alguém com quem eu pudesse falar em minha língua nativa. Eu não podia comprar livros, porque as poucas epístolas aqui eram todas em Português ou sem valor. Eu não podia comprar nada na internet sem um CPF, então livros via internet não estivessem uma opção. Fui efetivamente aprisionado em uma gaiola de macacos. Os garimpeiros não podiam mais entender minha erudição do que eu podia entender sua ignorância. Nós olhamos um para o outro dessa maneira ainda, com suspeita mútua. Como você descobriu recentemente, eu sou considerado um tolo malvado perverso e malvado por todos os símios locais.”
“Eu entendo o seu problema tolo malvado, mas por que eles acham que você também é mau?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Isso é ainda menos complicado.” O tolo malvado disse. “O que me faz parecer mal aos símios é que sou também um anarquista, um ateu e um escultor. Nenhum desses atributos me atrai para um arredor ignorante. Os símios aqui, como os símios em toda parte, são voluntariamente ignorantes. Eles não têm certeza se têm mais medo de Deus ou do Diabo. Mas, eles sabem, têm certeza, que eu sou um bruxo. Eles também têm certeza de que minha escultura é destinada a convocar o Diabo. Eles não acham que o Diabo é universalmente amigável. ”
“Por que eles pensam que você é um bruxo?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Minhas figuras do escultura estão sempre nus.” O tolo malvado disse. “Alguns são muito feios não-humanos demônios. Muitos retratam comportamento estranho, selvagem ou brutal.”
“Então, eles simplesmente assumem que apenas um macumbeiro criaria tais coisas?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Claro. Eles jogam rosários sobre minhas esculturas, às vezes embrulhadas em meias velhas.” O tolo malvado disse. “É muito engraçado, na verdade.”
“Supersticioso!”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, mesmo algumas pessoas bastante educadas, pessoas com graus universitários, afastam seu olhar quando me veem na rua.”
“Está ficando claro. Eu não tinha certeza sobre como o rosário se encaixava, mas quando você disse que às vezes eles adicionam meias velhas, tudo faz sentido. Sim. É bastante óbvio agora.” O vendedor ambulante zombou, e quando pararam de rir, o vendedor ambulante disse. “Então, você não pode ficar, e você não pode sair.”
“Exatamente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Estou muito enamorado da Amazônia, mas não de toda sua fauna de símios. Eu esperava, quando eu chegasse aqui, que eu poderia fazer uma grande contribuição para a biosustentabilidade.”
“Mas você não poderia?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Ainda não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Meus recursos são mais do que ligeiramente limitados. Eu tenho problemas pagando um servidor por uma hora de internet por dia.”
“Isso parece um luxo para mim. Há tantos livros que eu gostaria de ler ainda.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Uma hora não é suficiente.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Não. Eu posso imaginar que não é.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Enquanto eu ando entre a vegetação da Amazônia, eu admiro a grande beleza das árvores. Tais exibições magníficas da Natureza intocada estão ficando cada vez menos visíveis. É tão profundamente triste ver a destruição do ambiente natural em quase todos os lugares. O desperdício e a morte parecem estar competindo com a ignorância intencional para o faturamento superior. Os ambientalistas pretendem fazer bem, mas suas inúteis tentativas de proteger a floresta são tão ineficazes como se estivessem dormindo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Só no ano passado, a Amazônia perdeu um terço do seu território para madeireiros e fazendeiros. O aumento das chuvas danificou muito da minha pequena pousada. Perdi dois quartos e não tenho dinheiro para repará-los.
“Os grandes destruidores não pararão de matar as árvores até que o paraíso inteiro seja deserto,” disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Claro que não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Há alguns dias, o Presidente deu aos produtores de madeireiros e barões de gado a carta branca a autorização para destruir as tribos indígenas e a floresta restantes.”
“Por que?”
“É culpa dos fazendeiros, dos madeireiros, dos políticos corruptos e dos pobres que querem terra para cultivar alimentos para alimentar seus filhos. Mas ainda mais do que isso, é a indiferença hedonista e insensível do resto da população símia do mundo. Exigimos óleo de palma, papel, madeira serrada, fósforos, carne, soja, milho, trigo, abacate, banana, eternidade biológica, etc. mais rápido do que pode ser contestado e estuprado do iminente último testamento das florestas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas ainda mais do que isso é o fato de que não vamos parar de crescer. . . . período! Tudo serve ao grande crescimento do deus, PNG!”
“Como você, eu sinto fortemente sobre a situação dos desprotegidos. É por isso que eu tento viver de forma simples.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“E eu admiro você por isso. Mas, tenho certeza que você está ciente. É uma gota no oceano. Nossa espécie imita as espécies de gato doméstico – assassinos sádicos brutais, estragonas irresponsável, reproduzindo como armas de Gatling. Defecando onde quiser.” O tolo malvado disse.
“A natureza nos deu razão. Poderíamos ter sido um pouco Mensch sobre ele, usando-o para proteger a natureza. Em vez disso, nós escolhemos usar essa capacidade única para destruir nosso Criador.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Transformamos tudo em morte e morte simbólica, caedere, e chamamos de riqueza. Acho isso quase insuportável.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Nosso mundo está mudando bem diante de nossos olhos.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim. Eu cresci em um mundo que era fundamentalmente diferente daquele em que meu filho cresce.” O tolo malvado disse. “Cinco bilhões mais pessoas, mais de 3 vezes mais do que quando eu era pequeno. Porque eles estão assustados, precisando de dinheiro, as pessoas ouvem os economistas. Os economistas estão sempre pregando o crescimento e melhor distribuição como o salvador. Eles são incrivelmente miope, pensando que eles podem olhar para uma crina de cavalo e, a partir disso, expor sobre o que é um cavalo. A verdade simples é que nós não podemos crescer povos e usar recursos planetários, ad infinitum. ”
“Felizmente, a vida é curta.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Mas, ainda é muito tempo.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Não, se você está contribuindo para o bem-estar do planeta.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eu não sei. Talvez.” O tolo malvado disse. “A contribuição positiva das pessoas é diminuída pelo que fazem no negativo. Sete bilhões de pessoas consomem e defecam. Reciclagem é besteira. Por quanto tempo poderemos continuar a usar pesticidas, antes de nos envenenar da fora existência, juntamente com metade da vida do planeta? A agricultura orgânica é uma farsa. Como vamos parar de usar pesticidas para cultivar alimentos suficientes para alimentar o mundo? Estamos atingindo o ponto de ruptura em vários níveis. Escassez de água, energia, alimentos, oxigênio, outras espécies “também-correu”, e um ambiente limpo para nomear alguns. A escassez criará um grande estresse em todas as instituições humanas. Não podemos continuar “crescendo”. O crescimento no sentido do PNB e da regra biológica usual não é mais uma entidade positiva. Existe uma regra biológica para a sobrevivência. É assim que funciona. Cresça ou morra, proteja-se ou morra. Mantenha os três em equilíbrio ou morra. Se paramos de nos mover em direção positiva, morremos, mas existem muitos limites diante de nós. Precisamos repensar nossa relação humana com o meio ambiente. Combustíveis fósseis e avanços científicos há muito tempo nos ligam à idéia insana de que poderíamos esperar um crescimento ilimitado. Aqueles são uma besteira total agora. Onde vamos colocar todos os nossos resíduos? A energia nuclear, e tudo o que está envolvido com ela, está ameaçando acabar com toda a Vida. A proteção está em ordem, mas por quanto tempo e quanto? Onde encontraremos comida para alimentar todos?”
“Eu não sei.”
Os dois homens ficaram em silêncio por alguns segundos. Ambos estavam olhando para a clivagem da gastonete, enquanto ela limpava o fluido de condensação da cerveja da mesa de plástico. Quando ela saiu, pegando sua clivagem com ela, os dois voltaram a se preocupar com a situação ambiental.
Capítulo Três
“O kudos que recebo de seres humanos para o meu trabalho são diretamente proporcionais agora a minha dúvida de si mesmo. Quanto mais respeito e admiração eu recebo, menos convicção tenho em minhas crenças. Estou achando cada vez mais difícil existir em um mundo que me obriga a viver uma mentira. Eu tenho dado tudo o que posso dar, eu temo. No outro dia, vi um pequeno cão sofrendo, tentando defecar na sarjeta. As fezes, cobertas de sangue, caíam do ânus. A criatura estava cheia de vermes, obviamente morrendo de fome, apoiando um ombro quebrado, ecto-praga infestada. Alguém, sem razão aparente, andou perto e saiu de sua maneira de retrocedê-la. Os choros implacáveis da dor do pobre bicho quase me fizeram quebrar em lágrimas. Eu não fiz nada! Eu amei muitos outros, mas a maioria amor recíproco que eu já senti que recebi veio de animais e, no entanto, posso traí-los. Você quer saber sobre o amor não correspondido, veja o meu caminho. As pessoas deificam suas bondades e altruísmo em relação a outros seres humanos, mas é tudo comprado e negado através do sofrimento, horror e morte que eles entregam a da vida não-humana. Estou tão envergonhado de ser um ser humano.” O tolo malvado disse. “Coabitação com a raça humana foi quase mais do que eu posso unguenta.”
“Nossos donos também parecem ser tão hedonisticamente insensíveis e ignorantes quanto nós. Shakespeare disse isso muito bem no Rei Lear.” O vendedor ambulante disse, alcançando sua mochila e tirando um livro. “Eu estava lendo isto apenas esta manhã vindo aqui no ônibus. É do ato 4, cena 1, página 2. O duque de Gloucester diz, “como moscas aos meninos indecisos, assim nós somos aos deuses, matam-nos para seu esporte.”.”
“Faz você pensar, não é?” O tolo malvado disse.
“Certamente fez exatamente isso comigo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Estou inclinado a concordar com Shakespeare.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os bastardos estão rindo de nós. Os deuses me colocaram em um mundo aqui tão triste. Não consigo obter livros ou depender de uma internet funcionando. Todo mundo ao meu redor está intelectualmente morto. Nenhum dos moradores nunca ler um livro que não é um livro de histórias em quadrinhos. Não me expressam o conhecimento dos rudimentos da literatura, da matemática, da física, da história, da biologia, da filosofia, da geografia etc. Quando me aproximo até o menos esotérico dos sujeitos, eles me olham como se eu fosse demente. Eles poderiam me ensinar muito esotérica sobre a selva, mas preferem apenas cortar / queimá-lo. Os erros de linguagem que começo e o meu sotaque me fazem parecer infantis e não dignos de atenção. Minha filha diz que é normal aqui para ninguém ouvir mais ninguém. Como pode uma pessoa de integridade encontrar valor em tais seres ou em tal existência? Quando eu tento sentir um significado pessoal em pequenas formas: reciclagem, arte, jardinagem ou crescendo cogumelos, eles ridicularizam ou me humilham por ser estranho. Há algo a ser dito para Fantasiando o genocídio, é claro, mas o sofrimento ou lidar com o desconforto do suicídio, parece ser a minha única opção. Existe um prêmio envolvido, você acha, se alguém faz o caminho até o fim da vida sem se aproveitar da opção de suicídio?”
“Eu não faço ideia. Por que você não sai do país?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sem fundos, muito velho para encontrar um emprego significativo, eu não podia sustentar minha filha em outro lugar. Sem ela e nenhum passaporte válido, eu seria deportado onde quer que eu fosse. Rothschild me aprisionaria ou me mataria logo que uma palavra saiu da minha saída do Brasil.” O tolo malvado respondeu.
“Mover-se para outro lugar no Brasil, incógnito?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Outra forma de suicídio, apenas extraído e mais doloroso. Neste ponto da minha vida, parece ser mais elegante de editar do que complementar. No entanto, ficar aqui, adaptando-se, é de fato sintomático da demência. É isso que está acontecendo comigo? Todos os meus esforços atuais, envolvendo concepção, percepção e conduta resultam em feitos inexplicáveis de mediocridade ou dor não intencional. É um esforço para continuar. Por que tentar? Minha visão, audição e memória estão indo rápido. Não consigo escrever bem ou fazer muita qualidade-arte. Até agora, parece que a velhice não é apenas a degradação progressiva. A vida para mim envolve camadas de humilhação sem nada positivo adiante para o qual aspirar ou suportar. Queria morrer em combate, matando um predador e deixando o estado me derrubar. Mas agora, eu não quero dar aos deuses a satisfação de outro espetáculo sangrento. “Aos deuses, matam-nos para seu esporte.”. O Ben Chi Vis não seria me ter em volta para apreciar a sua música mais.”
“Parece muito sombrio. Não há esperança?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Depende se você quer ser sincero ou mentir para si mesmo a cada minuto do dia.” O tolo malvado respondeu, querendo discutir com o vendedor ambulante questões ambientais. “Desculpe por lhe contar meus problemas. Deve ser um cheiro de auto piedade desencadeado por a bebida. Deixe-me focar no estado da raça humana.”
“Muito bem.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Existem apenas duas avenidas abertas para salvar a Amazônia, a raça humana e o resto do planeta vivo. Ou: 1. Construa as Grandes Pontes de Pontibus, ou 2. Reduza a população de símios.”
“Só essas duas maneiras?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Outros remédios são apenas conversa ociosa ou chicanearia política.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se não construímos as Grandes Pontes, eliminar a população símia é a única maneira de cortar o crescimento sem cortar a garganta.”
“Nós cortamos nossos próprios pulsos ou nós cortamos nossas próprias garganta.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sem o Pontibus, sim, mais ou menos.” O tolo malvado concordou.
“Como estamos cortando nossas próprias gargantas se deixarmos de usar combustíveis fósseis?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não podemos parar, voluntariamente. Como a agricultura “orgânica”, a energia biosustentável é lamentavelmente pequena e muito cara sem o Pontibus.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas não se preocupe. Logo vamos parar de usar combustível fóssil, porque como as taxas de uso aumentam, inexoravelmente, temos apenas uma ou duas décadas. Todo o aquecimento global irá parar dentro de 50 anos, como todos os laços de aquecimento de jogar-de-volta secar, oxigênio respirável desaparece, ea raça humana se extinguiu.
O vendedor ambulante perguntou sobre as Pontes de Pontibus Grandes. O tolo malvado explicou como seriam as Grandes Pontes e como elas funcionariam. Escreveu os títulos para o vendedor ambulante dos livros escritos sobre eles – O Jornal de Pontibus (Vingança de Variola e Luz-Bethel) no Web site do hotel Aloirav.
Quando terminou, o vendedor ambulante perguntou. “Como podemos obter essas Pontibus Grandes?”
“Exigirá um grande investimento em pesquisa transgênica. Eu não sei quanto. Faz mais de 30 anos que eu trabalhei nesse campo. Os recursos necessários e o tempo necessário para alcançar o material de construção necessário, calein, dependerá das pessoas que fazem a engenharia genética.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por que você menospreza a reciclagem?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Muito pouco, muito tarde.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os impostos sobre o carbono e a reciclagem são tanto arrasto vermelho como uma eleição presidencial é – distrações sem sentido para os débeis. Essas ferramentas do obscenamente opulento são projetadas para tirar a atenção da comunidade porcina rapinante e do resto dos predadores, Incluindo símios superproduzidos.”
“Por que você diz isso? De que outra forma as pessoas pararão de queimar combustíveis fósseis se não forem forçadas a economizar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Os donos do mundo, os tiranos OMS, são mentirosos psicóticos.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas eles também não podem nos esconder quando falam a verdade”.
“OMS?”
“Ordem Mundial Sionista.” O tolo malvado respondeu.
“O que é isso?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“É a desculpa que a comunidade rapina porcina, os superpredadores, dão para instituir a tirania total sobre nós. Eles afirmam que o OMS é o único meio de alcançar a paz universal.”
“Isso parece uma ideia admirável.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Essa posição é falsa por pelo menos dois razoes.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Os banqueiros não querem paz universal, pois isso significaria menos gastos de armas e, portanto, menos ouro para eles. O bem-estar humano não é, nem nunca foi, o sonho dos banqueiros. Deve ter uma segunda motivo. O segundo rãzona que sopra os defensores da OMS no esfíncter posterior é que a liberdade causa conflito pela Natureza. A liberdade e a paz são mutuamente exclusivas, quase por definição. Portanto, se queremos a paz, acima de tudo, também devemos ter uma distopia totalitária, ou seja, OMS.”
“Entendo.”
O tolo malvado continuou. “Estes tiranos são ensinados a assassinar o grande sem lavar com abandono. Seus pais e antepassados têm ensinado a mentir e nos enganar incessantemente. Por milênios, eles se acostumaram a esse comportamento para nos manterem sobrepujados. Os impostos sobre o carbono são apenas mais uma desculpa para aumentar o tributo-estupro. Rothschild, a propriedade Rockefeller, e as rainhas, Beatrice & Elizabeth, possuem praticamente todo o carvão do mundo & petróleo. Para parar o aquecimento global e a acidificação do oceano, sem o Pontibus, nós temos que parar de queimar o óleo e o carvão. Você realmente acredita que eles jogariam tudo para salvar o planeta?”
“Não.”
“Nem eu.” O tolo malvado disse. “Você acha que o mundo poderia dirigir com não ter petróleo e carvão?”
“Nenhuma energia?” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Certamente não.”
“Então, o que farão esses superpredadores se eles não puderem vendê-lo?” Perguntou o tolo malvado. “Deixa no chão?”
“Suponho que eles teriam que fazê-lo. O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eu não penso assim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os símios precisam de combustível fóssil e vão exigi-lo. As energias renováveis produzem muito pouco. Os superpredadores temem os símios desencadeados. Mesmo que todos os nossos problemas de energia sejam superados, os símios não deixarão de consumir. Eles não limitarão sua população.”
“Quando você diz superpredadores, você está se referindo ao super-rico, não é?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim, eu sou.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os caedere ricos são predadores, traidores à humanidade. Eles constroem falsas aparências para dissuadir os grandes não lavados de pegar em armas. Estes superpredadores sabem que são ilegítimos e em risco, mas sempre ganham. É quase estranho.
“É um paradoxo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim. Nossa sociedade se vangloria de ser pluralista. “O tolo malvado disse.
“Não é?”
“Suponho que sim, às vezes, mas seus aspectos econômicos e políticos não são.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles nunca foram.”
“Uma conspiração?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
O mundo está se tornando cada vez mais aceitando a inteligência como uma qualidade de seleção natural, mesmo que seja uma qualidade geralmente ao longo do tempo a natureza escolhida contra. Na verdade, quase pode ser considerada uma mutação letal. As qualidades subsumidas sob a rubrica de inteligência contêm características de inteligência naturalmente selecionadas, incluindo o uso adepto da camuflagem. A camuflagem simiática renuncia principalmente a mímicas de cor e forma e, em vez disso, concentra-se no uso de circunlocução, fraude, traição, etc. para sobreviver, cascar, ganhar ascendência em todas as espécies, incluindo Homo sapiens sapiens. Os Asiáticos do Extremo Oriente e a maioria dos brancos têm a maior posição genética no conhecimento da inteligência. Os Africanos negros Africanos indígenas têm o mínimo. Isso significa que (para as pessoas não politicamente corretas), que um octoroao tende a ter mais inteligência do que um quadroão e um quadroao mais do que um mulato. Um negro Americano miscigenado teria mais inteligência do que o meio-irmão indígena, Africano negro, Africano. Os dados científicos continuam a afirmar e reafirmar este fato de maneira irresistível. À medida que a disparidade de alocação de inteligência transporta para o setor de camuflagem, muitos problemas e oportunidades se desenvolvem. A mobilidade da ascensão academicamente, socialmente, politicamente e economicamente tende a apoiar o fato desconfortável de que a vida negra não importa para o resto do mundo. Superpredadores acreditam que um uso hábil da camuflagem de símio indica automaticamente inteligência superior, e que habilita o superpredador a governar e a efetuar contingências símias. Os superpredadores sentem que essa ideia lhes dá direito a usar camuflagem indiscriminadamente para pisar em TODOS que não compartilhem sua partida na torta de inteligência. Aquela tendência não é positiva para os negros. O chorando eterno sobre sua deficiência super estupidez se tornará cada vez menos efetivo ao forçar os brancos a dar-lhes subsídios. Os negros tiveram que acordar com o fato de que, ao longo do tempo, se eles não investirem seu Naturalmente Selecionado, produção-prolífica de progênies DNA em símios de pele clara, os superpredadores os “desaparecerão”. Algum dia, pessoas brancas podem despertar para a ideia de que a “raça culpa branca” é uma construção de superpredadores de engenharia de subjugação. Os recursos brancos podem parar de se mover para bolsos superpredadores e bocas pretas. Os recursos brancos podem de repente se transformar em armas para destruir predador e negro. Se não o fizerem, um mar virtual de DNA Chinês certamente submergirá a raça branca, e os superpredadores farão da raça branca e os Asiáticos os novos escravos Africanos do mundo.”
“Parece como uma conspiração para mim.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
O tolo malvado disse. “Superpredadores são uma comunidade estreitamente conectada. Eles não são apenas proprietários e controladores de as vidas, coisas com valor, infraestrutura, informações e produtos da sociedade, mas são redundantemente incestuosos e desfrutam de inimigos comuns como, ambientalistas, policiais novos muito ingênuos, trabalhadores, etc. Qualquer vadinho de votos que vá contra os superpredadores será destruída ou figuradamente castrada dentro de um ano.”
“Vadinho de votos?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Pol.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Os superpredadores conhecem seus inimigos muito antes do hoi polloi. Estes superpredadores são realmente a pena, exceto pelo fato de que eles acreditam que seu dinheiro os torna líderes, e eles pensam que sabem o que é melhor para todos. Essa idéia maluca também os torna super-superpredadores. ”
“Quais são aquelas aparências falsas de que você fala?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Eleições! Meios escravizados!” Disse o tolo malvado. “Eles pegar duas de suas melhores putas Maquiavélica e colocá-los-iam em frente do hoi polloi como candidatos presidenciais atraentes. Os bocós malvados de voto acreditam que eles têm alguma escolha, conivendo em sua própria escravidão. ”
“Eu não voto.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Você não precisa se preocupar com meus sentimentos a esse respeito. O Brasil vai me punir por esse pecadilho, quando eu ficar mais velho. ”
“Sim. Você estará quase na minha situação,” disse o tolo malvado.
“Um dos cidadãos de segunda classe do Brasil?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim. Mas, mesmo que a sua situação de velhice chegue como você imagina, não é compensável, pelo menos você não viverá a expensas de outra pessoa, como o resto dos pensionistas.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Eu poderia dirigir com uma pensão. Eu não gosto de morrer de fome ou dormir fora na chuva no chão. Você está certo. Eu provavelmente estarei em uma situação um tanto semelhante a você, talvez ainda pior.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Olhe pelo lado bom. Pelo menos, se continuarmos a abusar do planeta da maneira que fazemos, todos nós apodreceremos no mesmo caixão.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Você sabe, você não é uma companheira muito agradável de beber?” O vendedor ambulante brincou.
“Obrigado. Não posso imaginar por que você diria isso, mas posso apontar para algumas pessoas agora que provavelmente concordarão com você.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Eu tenho certeza que você pode. Eu apreciaria se você não o fizesse.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
Os dois foram interrompidos naquele momento por alguém perguntando sobre a mercadoria do vendedor ambulante. O vendedor ambulante deu um discurso de vendas rápido e vendeu um anel de alho. Como o comprador estava saindo, ele avistou a peça de arte do tolo malvado no banquinho. O aspirante a arte-comprador perguntou. “Quantos?”
“500 Reais.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Isso não é um pouco íngreme?” Perguntou o aspirante a comprador de arte.
O tolo malvado reagiu como se de repente tivesse pisado uma pilha de mierda de cachorro. Sua incompreensão era claramente óbvia. Ele queria que a pessoa o deixasse em paz, mas estava com um dilema sobre como conseguir que o vendedor ambulante freguesa da sua visão. Ele manteve a calma, no entanto, enquanto o cliente o encarava antecipadamente por uma resposta.
Capítulo Quatro
“Sim, é.” O tolo malvado respondeu, silenciosamente, e o aspirante a comprador de arte foi embora, balançando a cabeça.
“Isso parece alto. Você nem apareceu como se quisesse vendê-lo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Depois que o macaco disse que era caro, eu não me importei se eu vendesse ou não.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por que não?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Bem, é como assim.” O tolo malvado explicou. “Um pedreiro de tijolos aqui faz 100 Reais / dia. Eu trabalhei duas semanas criando esse pedaço de sacos descartados de plástico que eu derreti e moldado. Acho que o meu tempo, habilidade, dano à minha saúde por causa dos vapores e conhecimento biológico e estético faz com que meu trabalho valha tanto como um pedreiro.”
“Isso é uma suposição razoável.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Faça a matemática e a peça vale R$ 1400. Se eu não conseguir 500 Reais, 35 Reais / dia, prefiro morrer de fome. Não posso aceitar que meu trabalho vale menos que um terço daquele de um trabalhador comum.” O tolo malvado disse. “Não estou vendendo alho.”
O vendedor ambulante disse. “Quando você diz dessa maneira, eu acho que eu entendo.”
“Espero que sim. Eu não sei por que eu me sinto do jeito que eu faço. “O tolo malvado disse. “Que diabos?! É uma merda. Provavelmente nunca vou vender nada disso. Minha filha vai acabar jogando fora um dia junto com as outras 40 peças que eu terminei.”
“Você realmente acha?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Espero que não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Onde estávamos nós em salvar o planeta?”
“Apodrecendo no mesmo caixão.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Ah sim. Eu lembro. Eu estava sendo um conversador esplêndido e você estava tentando me lisonjear.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Algo assim.” O vendedor ambulante disse mentir.
“O estupro da Natureza não é apenas a culpa dos motores dos superpredadores, e idiotas que votam. Concedido, a indústria de armas e a comunidade a que pertence, nem sequer conhecem a tristeza e a dor que causam com a sua insana cavitação de ouro. Mas, TODOS os outros também estão estrangulando a vida do planeta, cada um de nós.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Parece que sim. Onde a raça humana está, em sua evolução, não é um bom lugar.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Mas, é um momento emocionante para estar vivo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nossa espécie escravizada pendura por um fio diante do precipício de extinção. Nós somos a geração que deve aprender a fundir nossos valores nos fogos da biosustentabilidade, ou nossos filhos morrerão como os outros fracassos da Natureza. Ainda não aprendemos isso.”
O vendedor ambulante compreendeu a metáfora, mas respondeu como se pedisse o destino para a resposta a sua pergunta. “Por que não?”
O malvado tolo malvado tomou a pergunta, como se dirigida a ele, pessoalmente e respondeu. “A sociedade humana escolhe para covardes. Não temos a coragem de desautorizar nossa população ficando progressivamente mais vulnerável, prevenindo nossa evolução contínua.”
“Quanto mais tempo pode continuar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante. “A estupidez não tem limite?”
O tolo malvado respondeu. “Não parece que a ignorância tenha qualquer limite. As mais alto putas-de-voto em todo o mundo são tão densas que quase faz com que uma pessoa, ouvindo-as, queira gritar. A ignorância pode ser devido aos superpredadores propagação de mentiras e propaganda ou a sua retenção de educação de qualidade. A estupidez pode ser devido à poluição da água e do ar e diminuindo o oxigênio oceânico produzido. Não temos uma idéia de quanto a inteligência coletiva e capacidade de raciocínio da nossa espécie já diminuíram devido a circunstâncias como pesticidas, ar mais leve e respirável, fluoreto, escassez de alimentos limpos e água. Sabemos que bilhões de pontos de QI ao redor do mundo estão deprimidos apenas por usarem pesticidas organofosforados sozinhos. O Brasil envenena seus cidadãos com pesticidas vinte vezes mais rápido do que outros países.”
“Nossa fertilidade decrescente é facilmente mensurável, assim como as estatísticas de nossa mortalidade, mas nossas faculdades mentais coletivas não são.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Isso é verdade.” O tolo malvado concordou. “A Organização Mundial de Saúde diz que a depressão clínica é a principal deficiência mundial hoje, e está aumentando. Essa doença poderia levar as pessoas a negligenciar a sua saúde, aumentando a vulnerabilidade dos símios aos assassinos secundários como doenças cardíacas, câncer e diabetes. Por que essa tristeza se tornou tão prevalente? Uma causa grande deste desespero, em todo o mundo, é a falta de luz solar-produzida vitamina D. A profissão médica é implacável em seu avaro pró-protetor solar e propaganda negativo de radiação solar. A radiação do teste da bomba nuclear e os “acidentes” de energia nuclear, como Fukushima e Chernobyl, podem ser parcialmente a causa desta depressão mundial. Pode resultar em eventual loucura, globalmente. O pouco que sabemos da consciência humana é afetado grandemente por caprichos de soluções de sal do cérebro. Estas soluções estão em justaposição a compostos de ferro como hemoglobina e outras flutuações químicas normais no corpo. As células endoteliais dos vasos sanguíneos, bem fechadas, as separam. O ferro também é fortemente afetado pelo magnetismo e campos magnéticos. A pletora de compostos de ferro, mantidos no lugar por células endoteliais, necessárias para a função cerebral, pode ser comparada grosseiramente a uma rede. A medição mecânica quântica de harmônicas de neurônios cerebrais e magnetismo pode lançar luz sobre se os efeitos de energia de Wigner agem em sinergia com a depleção de oxigênio do planeta, pesticidas, depleção de ozônio, gorduras trans, frequências de transmissão de mídia, e mentidas de profissão médica afeta, prejudicialmente, a química do cérebro e a homeostase. Efeitos negativos adicionais sobre o cérebro humano podem vir do estado cada vez mais anaeróbio dos oceanos devido à morte de animais marinhos causada por poluição e sua putrificarão.”
“Em suma, o que você está dizendo é que os superpredadores estão envenenando e nos sufocando lentamente.” O vendedor ambulante resumiu.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, o verdadeiro problema é a nossa população fora de controle.”
“Os superpredadores são muito mais inteligentes do que nós?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não.” O tolo malvado disse. “A maioria dos ricos caedere extremos são quase-imbecis, mas porque a riqueza caedere é a fonte de fato em praticamente todo o poder símio, eles são os que controlam as contingências em que vivemos. Nós não somos nada mais do que peões descartáveis para os superpredadores. Os superpredadores têm asseclas brilhantes, adoradores da riqueza caedere, trabalhando para glorificá-los e protegê-los. Exceto com o risco caedere, estes babão brilhantes vacilam entre apatia e medrosíssimo. Como tal, eles são iguais aos seus proprietários ricos em caedere. Sua posição permite que eles sejam igualmente tão hedonistas quanto insensíveis.”
“Precisamos começar a tratar esses brutos como descartáveis.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Reformar as causas da injustiça nunca parece funcionar.”
“A reforma não funciona, porque a classe dominante, os superpredadores, usam a reforma como folhetos para mendigos. Uma vez que gastamos os níqueis de madeira subornos, eles nos dão, eles retomam a opressão de novo, se alguma vez reduzido.”
O que é caedere? Você usa essa palavra com frequência, e eu não me lembro de sua definição. Você poderia repeti-lo?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Claro.” O tolo malvado disse. “Caedere é um verbo latino que significa derrubar, bater, matar ou faz morto. Eu uso a palavra em um quadro maior para explicar nosso senso coletivo de riqueza. Como uma espécie, tudo que nós valorizamos hoje parece estar morto ou um símbolo da morte. Se algo vive, é geralmente acreditado que ele deve ser morto para criar coisas do valor para nós mesmos fora dele. Isso, e nossa falta de controle populacional, é por isso que estamos destruindo o planeta vivo. ”
“Eu vejo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Os asseclas dos superpredadores de caedere e o desejo de adquirir riqueza extrema de caedere sugerem à fraternidade superpredadores que os guinchos fazem duas coisas: 1. Usar qualquer meio à sua disposição para forçar toda a Humanidade à escravidão por meio de um totalitarismo Nova Ordem (OMS) Mundial. 2. Reduzir o número de pessoas para cerca de 400 milhões.
“Felizmente para nós, até agora, eu acho, a maioria dos lacaios são gênios, sem costas, trabalhando em uma programação atrasada.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Você pode estar certo.” O tolo malvado disse.
“E a ganância de Rothschild é ainda maior do que a vontade-de-poder de Rothschild.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Que eu não tenho tanta certeza.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, os superpredadores estão se movendo muito mais rápido do que você pensa. A fraternidade dos superpredadores quer que sejamos atraídos por uma falsa crença de que estão aguardando seu tempo. Na verdade, eles estão se movendo muito rapidamente, estabelecendo o mundo em ordem para o momento em que eles irão atacar. E também, eles estão ansiosamente esperando para extrair de nós, o último pedaço de caedere riqueza possível, antes que chegue o tempo quando não há outra alternativa senão para destruir os escravos completamente.
“Você realmente acha que vai chegar a isso?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“É claro.” O tolo malvado disse. “As indicações dele já são visíveis, e que alternativa têm? De onde está nossa cultura, o julgamento discricionário foi perdido. Somos criados como ratos e não temos outra alternativa a não ser continuar a violar, pilhar e assassinar nosso meio ambiente para apoiar nossa população inchada de roedores.”
“É tão cansativo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Acho isso deprimente.” O tolo malvado disse. “À medida que mais e mais símios se tornam cyborgs ou ciborgos figurativos, mais espécies morrem. Mais do nosso planeta se torna deserto. A tecnologia continua adiando o dia do cálculo. O ponto virá quando não houver nenhum outro lugar, e a tecnologia ajudará apenas os mais privilegiados.”
“Você disse que há indícios já visíveis?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado perverso respondeu. “Os meios que os caedere ricos têm experimentado, até agora, para reduzir a população humana não foram nem eficazes nem seletivos. Guerra, Ebola, vacinas, Fukushima, Chernobyl, testes de bomba atômica, poluição projetada, etc. são muito limitados no âmbito. Infelizmente, eles não têm como alvo os adoradores da morte, desviantes sexuais, toxicodependentes, desajustes biológicos ou predadores humanos. Eles não exigiram a morte de monstros genéticos, nem mesmo aqueles resultantes de resíduos nucleares e radiações que saem das fusões das usinas nucleares. Manter o controle e a nossa escravidão é de suma importância para eles. Eles usam propaganda politicamente-correta, mentiras, cúmplices, assassinatos, acusações falsas, incidentes de falsa bandeira, terrorismo de fundo, demonstrações falsas, multas, sanções, embargos, e golpes de estado. Eles promovem grupos antitéticos para as subclasses & destituído de direitos, infiltração de hoi polloi grupos. Eles subornam, substituem ou matam heróis do grande não lavado, usando campos de concentração clandestinos, iscas de raça, depósitos de armas domésticas, listas de não-voam, etc., que dão indicações claras de sua intenção.”
“Eles ainda não se atrevem a atingir grupos específicos, porque isso significaria devastar alguns de seus próprios grupos também,” argumentou o vendedor ambulante.
“Certamente.” O tolo malvado concordou. “Então, os condenados, infelizmente, incluíram, e incluirão, jovens humanos com objetivos saudáveis e espécies familiares”.
“Você menciona os adoradores da morte? Você quer dizer macumba e essas bobagens? “O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Bem, sim, a macumba é apenas um dos muitos, entre todas as outras religiões do “outro mundo”, que acreditam em uma vida depois da morte.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas a preocupação com o dinheiro é também uma forma de adoração à morte, não é?”
“Do jeito que você descreveu a riqueza de caedere, sim.” O vendedor ambulante concordou.
“A morte é a palavra que os símios usam para descrever a separação da Terra.” O tolo malvado disse. “Caedere é outra maneira de dizer a mesma coisa. Quanto mais colocamos nossa energia na aquisição de bens e símbolos de caedere, mais nos separamos do planeta e da Vida. Quanto mais nos separamos, mais perto chegamos à morte total. Canalizamos e controlamos como os superpredadores coletam seu ganho de caedere. O aleatório significa que nossos amigos guinchando escolheram para diminuir nossa espécie dependem de nossa preocupação com esses bens e símbolos. Seus meios ainda não foram tão implacáveis ou eficazes como uma guerra termonuclear ou um desdobramento hemorrágico de vírus símio. As deficiências de um Ebola supero contagioso ainda não foram superadas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, os meios para nosso extermínio aparecerão, se não agirmos.”
“Talvez Fukushima o faça,” disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Ou, talvez possamos supor que os subordinados dos superpredadores estão concentrando suas esperanças em capitalizar uma depressão persistente na viabilidade de nossa espécie.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu não acho que eles vão correr o risco de fome global. É muito perigoso para eles. Assim, não demorará muito para que eles nos abatem com algo que não podemos lutar. ”
“Você mencionou “meios aleatórios”?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim. Seus venenos, guerras, nuclides e ruses são todos comprados com a riqueza caedere que nós os fornecemos.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles estão nos reduzindo a uma típica espécie ameaçada de extinção, embora nossos números não o indiquem. Nós ainda não igualamos nossa morbidade à moribundidade.”
“Por que não, e como isso vai acontecer?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Além dos venenos que os superpredadores estão colocando em nossos corpos, aquíferos, ar e alimentos, sete bilhões de pessoas produzem uma grande quantidade de resíduos por conta própria. Esse desperdício está poluindo ainda mais nossos alimentos, água e ar. Está aquecendo o planeta, acidificando nossos oceanos, e envenenando nossos aquíferos. Como organismos biológicos, devemos continuar crescendo ou morremos, e nossos recursos para o crescimento estão chegando ao fim. A maioria do nosso oxigênio respirável vem de algas oceânicas. Algas e outras espécies de vida marinha, de que dependemos, estão sendo mortas por radiação, poluição e água ácida. A Vida do planeta inteiro está interconectada. Não podemos apoiar bilhões de subhumanos que não fazem nada além de consumir e não devolver nada ao planeta senão a morte. Não é apenas um caso de “nós contra os caras”. Nossos corpos também não são apenas nós. “NÓS” somos somente 1 por cento de nossos corpos. 99 trilhões de células são diferentes de nós, mas eles nos mantêm. Quando matamos nossa co-vida planetária, estamos nos matando também. A maioria dos símios não entende o quanto toda a Vida está interconectada, e os superpredadores parecem ser apenas cócegas cor de rosa sobre essa ignorância. As pessoas são sub-escolarizadas em biologia. Eles se compartimentam como aspectos especiais da “Criação”, lutando contra a ciência como se fosse um inimigo. Não podemos viver muito tempo sem oxigênio. Não podemos viver muito tempo sem abelhas. Não podemos viver muito tempo com micróbios tóxicos em nosso intestino, em nossa pele, em nossas células. Quando será adiada a conta? Eu não sei, mas será em breve. Os superpredadores sabem tudo isso. Eles não estão dormindo. Sua Ordem Mundial Sionista totalitarista (SMO) vai um dia apresentar a desolação de nossa espécie à categoria de mortalidade.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se não o fizerem, nós mesmos o faremos. O que vem primeiro é o que alguém imagina.
“Acho que você não gosta dos Judeus?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.

Capítulo Cinco
“Você quer dizer, por causa da maneira que eu não me escondo em medo e vergonha, em vez de falar a verdade sobre os Sionistas criminosos e os pervertidos Talmudistas?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Sim.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu. “ Os Sionistas e Talmudistas são Judeus, não são?
“Quando serve aos seus propósitos, os Sionistas dizem que são Judeus e Judeus dizem que são Sionistas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se você está tentando usar um válido o epíteto contra Semita contra mim, você tem um problema. Vai ser muito difícil seguir o caminho contra Semita comigo. Em primeiro lugar, os Judeus genéticos puros não existem. “Jewismo” é um smorgasbord de caedere capital, genes, cultura, consciência e religião. Semitismo é um termo para uma linguagem comum, não uma raça. Então, como você efetivamente odeia alguém que não deve nem existe? Minha mãe era geneticamente um meio-Judeu, da tribo Dan, pós-Huguenote da França, e minha bisavó era um árabe pied-noir. Eu estaria desautorizando meu próprio eu se eu fosse tomar uma postura contra Semita por motivos genéticos. Para ser um contra Semita decente hoje, você tem um problema de definição. Um semita hoje é geralmente considerado como um árabe ou um Talmudista mestiço. Para além dos Sionistas, Talmudistas ou Islâmicos, qualquer pessoa que não seja contra Sionista ou contra Talmudista ou contra Islâmica, respectivamente, é extremamente ignorante ou masoquista. O Talmude mandatos sua encurralado para odiar, faz doentes, batota, escravizar e matar todos os não-Talmudistas eles se encontram. Os Talmudistas tomam conselhos de doidos, chamados rabinos, muitos dos quais torturam animais e sugam os pênis do rapaz até que a ponta caia. A demência dos Talmudistas é igual aos Islâmicos, apenas mais silenciosos e mais camuflados. Sionistas, Judeus Talmúdicos e Islamitas são os contra Semitas verdadeiros neste mundo. Esses Semitas mestiços e suas putas dos SEA fizeram um matadouro do Oriente Médio. Durante séculos, os Sionistas têm matado o povo Semita do mundo, e os Judeus Talmúdicos têm mostrado durante séculos que eles são uma destrutiva e “cultura suicida”. Os Islâmicos querem matar todos os que se encontram e que não são islâmicos e até a maioria das pessoas Islamistas. Para passar o tempo, enquanto se sentem mais pacíficos, eles gostam de mutilar os órgãos genitais das meninas. Os “Judeus”, os Khazaria-Gentile-Judeus e os Muçulmanos têm esse fascinante, louco & maligno, pela mutilação genital. É como se esses selvagens enfermos deixassem as cavernas, mas as cavernas não as deixaram. Todos os dias, o Israel de Rothschild é lento, mas com sucesso, usando outros países como enganado mercenários para conquistar e destruir o mundo – Semitas, pseudo-Semitas e Gentios. Com todo o urânio disperso, os Sionistas jogam ao redor e vender, os homens jovens em Israel estão encontrando sua contagem de esperma caindo mais rápido do que os Palestinos Semitas que eles gostam de queimar. O que falamos, quando usamos a palavra “Judeu”, não é uma observação polêmica contra a genética dos povos Semitas, mas uma descrição da atroz religião “Hebraica” que adora a morte e do usurpador brutal Luciferiano Khazar Sionismo de Rothschild, et al. Os Judeus e Muçulmanos religiosos pertencem à mesma categoria dos predadores Luciferianos e Cristãos adoradores da morte. A maioria dos Judeus, como a maioria dos Cristãos, não são pessoas más. São bestões fracos e simples. Os superpredadores logradores religiosos e Sionistas os controlam. A inveja adoradora da morte de predadores de caedere controla e escraviza pessoas que não podem ou não vão pensar por si mesmas. A maioria dos Judeus nunca leu o Talmude, como a maioria dos Cristãos nunca leu a Bíblia. Se tivessem, e não fossem mentalmente deficientes ou completamente inconscientes do pensamento crítico, veriam a depravação morar lá. A maioria tem lido só porções desses tomos obscenos e prontamente aceita a interpretação falsa colocada sobre eles pelos líderes da fraude religiosa.”
“Cultura suicida?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “O Talmude é um livro muito racista, pretendendo favorecer ersatz Judeus, e assim, é extremamente contra Gentile, (seja lá o que é). Se não há Judeus reais, apenas impostores, como pode haver algum Gentio? Os bestonas Talmúdicos realmente não podem acreditar que os gois vão descobrir que tipo de merda os filhos do religioso Talmúdico aprendem. Cada estado, em que os Judeus tentam residir, em última instância, mantém um pogrom ou joga-los para fora. Os Talmúdicas nunca aprendem. Eles são tão maus quanto os evangélicos. Os evangélicos são nauseantes, mas os Talmúdicos, com seus “Judeus são especiais a Deus” merda e “escravizam, enfermam e matam os Gentios”, são igualmente nauseantes, mais ofensivamente ameaçador. Os Judeus não são estúpidos. A maioria é mais inteligente que a maioria dos gois, mas a religião é masoquista, e os seduzidos querem sentir-se perseguidos e morrer por esse horrível Talmude e sua insularidade obrigatória.”
“Eu sempre pensei que eles foram maltratados porque usavam esses pequenos chapéus bonitos e levantavam suas cabeças para cima e para baixo como lagartos e patos.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Bem.” Disse o tolo malvado. “Esses beanies os fazem parecer insulares e, obviamente, otários ou trapaceiros religiosos. Isso não os ajuda a integrar nenhum, no entanto, ele pode jogar fora. Quem sabe o que o Cabala-Talmude pode fazê-los fazer para ser tão odiado? A maneira horrenda de tratar seus animais de fazenda é cruel e brutal. Eles só podem tentar imitar o Diabo “Moloch” que eles adoram. Mas, basta fazer com que o coração de qualquer sentimento não-Talmud’er grite em uma agonia simpática com as vítimas. Tenho certeza de que muitas pessoas, se soubessem, desejariam assumir o ombro vicário pelos inocentes que os Talmudistas brutalizam.”
Levantando-se para ir para a banheiro, o tolo malvado deixou a vizinhança do vendedor ambulante. Quando ele passou o cliente que gostava de xinga ele para o vendedor ambulante o tolo malvado viu o cliente sorrir para ele. Os dois homens acenaram um para o outro, como se fossem os melhores amigos. Quando ele virou a cabeça em direção à banheiro, pelo canto do olho, o tolo malvado viu o cliente tagarelar acenara para o vendedor ambulante.
Quando o tolo malvado voltou à mesa, compartilhado com o vendedor ambulante, o vendedor ambulante disse. “Acho que temos uma reunião das mentes na maior parte da nossa discussão. É uma situação insustentável, que enfrentamos, existindo no mundo de hoje. Eu não tenho quaisquer soluções possíveis ou alternativas para postular. Você poderia explicar mais sobre por que você acha que essas Pontes Grandes vão ajudar?”
“Sim, mas infelizmente, estamos sem cerveja.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Isso é verdade.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu, sentindo-se desconfortável. “Como eu lhe disse antes, não posso compartilhar o pagamento da conta do bar.”
“Eu me lembro de dizer que poderíamos chegar a um acordo, com o seu alho, para compartilhar a despesa. Você está renegando sobre isso agora, ou não temos uma reunião das mentes?” O tolo malvado disse.
“Nós tivemos uma reunião das mentes, e eu não estou renegando. Aqui está um anel para pagar a segunda rodada e aqui é outra para pagar a quarta.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Feito!” O tolo malvado disse, acenando a garçonete para pedir mais tira gosto e outra cerveja. Ele colocou os dois anéis de alho em torno de sua obra de arte e disse. “Agora meu trabalho de arte é irresistível. Tenho a certeza de vendê-lo antes de partirmos.”
“Eu espero que sim.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
Enquanto esperavam a chegada da ordem, o tolo malvado disse. “Se não começarmos logo a construir as Grandes Pontes Intercontinentais Pontibus, nós, por padrão, através do nosso aumento populacional e da devastação ecológica planetária, inflaremos uma bolha de símios”.
“E vai explodir, suponho?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado concordou. “Ele vai explodir e resultar em desastre ambiental e humano por acidente ou design.”
“A população é um problema para ter certeza. Estamos sendo estampados do éter como forros de freio, edificado para sofrer.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Os deuses são demônios.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Se a sua inexorável crueldade é deliberada, é imperdoável. Devem ser destruídos.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
O tolo malvado disse. “Encontrar a arma certa do crime é o problema.”
“Não é?” O vendedor ambulante concordou, rindo.
O tolo malvado de repente tocou o braço do o vendedor ambulante e disse. “Falando de crueldade estúpida, você está prestes a descobrir uma das razões pelas quais eu adquiri a reputação de um tolo malvado do mal.”
“Eu sou?”
“Sim. Por favor espere.” O tolo malvado disse e se levantou de seu assento. “Eu voltarei.”
Caminhou até a rua e parou. Lá, ele confrontou uma mulher na rua que estava chutando e batendo um dos grandes sapos do tamanho de uma manga do quilo que são tão prevalentes nas cidades amazônicas de fronteira. Quando era mais conveniente do que chutar, a mulher batia a criatura com sua vassoura. A criatura, aparentemente, inconsciente de por que estava sofrendo assim, mantido pulando alheio em um esforço para escapar da situação indefensável.
“Por que você está atormentando aquela criatura?” Perguntou o tolo malvado. “Não está machucando você!”
A mulher bastante grande não disse nada em troca mas continuou a atacar o miserável sapo. O tolo malvado caminhou até o sapo sangrento e se inclinou para lhe dar assistência. Entretanto, a mulher não devia ser impedida em sua tarefa justa. Ela sustentou o assalto implacável, voltado para o fim da vida da criatura, com sua vassoura leal. O tolo malvado agarrou a ferramenta confiável da mulher com a mão esquerda e pegou o anfíbio inchado simultaneamente. O sapo foi assim prontamente resgatado da ignorância símia. Outras pessoas ofegaram horrorizado para a insanidade óbvia do tolo malvado, como ele libertou o sapo-arma da mulher.
A opinião predominante no Roraima é que tal comportamento imprudente certamente ganhará para uma terrível ameaça de vida verrugas. Destemido, o tolo malvado levou o sapo para casa para cuidar de suas feridas e soltá-lo em seu jardim. Como o tolo malvado deixou a vizinhança do bar, o cliente que falou com o vendedor ambulante anteriormente notou a oportunidade reaberta para fofocar na mesa de plástico.
Aproximou-se do ambiente agora pouco povoado do o vendedor ambulante e disse. “Vejo? O que eu lhe disse? Ele está louco, pegando uma coisa suja e venenosa como essa e levando para sua casa! ”
O vendedor ambulante não respondeu, e o cliente disse. “Essa é apenas uma das coisas que ele libera de nossa vigilância. As pessoas dizem que ele libera tarântulas e cobras, mesmo aquelas serpentes brancas de duas cabeças. O que você acha que ele faz com aquelas criaturas horríveis quando ele as leva para sua casa? ”
“Bem.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu. “Eu não sei.”
“Eu sei.” Disse Fofoque. “Ele faz poções e feitiços para transformar as pessoas em animais ou torná-los doentes!”
“Como você sabe disso?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Todo mundo sabe disso.” Fofoque disse. “Basta perguntar a alguém. I certo nunca dormir em sua pousada! Esse sapo era provavelmente alguém que ele amaldiçoou no passado. Ele esculpe bonecas também. Dizem que ele os usa para fazer sua macumba e machucar as pessoas. ”
“Tem certeza de que eles são bonecos macumba?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Oh, sim.” Fofoque disse. “Nós sabemos disso com certeza.”
“Como você sabe isso com certeza?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Tivemos a sorte de descobrir que lançar rosários sobre eles os torna impotentes para nos prejudicar.” Fofoque disse por meio de prova incontestável.
“Oh. Eu vejo.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu, esboçando um sorriso.
O cliente tagarela não notou as dúvidas quase ocultas do vendedor ambulante e continuou. “Ele é um verdadeiro feiticeiro! Ele até vai para a selva e coleta cogumelos!”
“O que isso significa?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou educadamente.
“Os cogumelos são venenosos.” Disse Fofoque. “Todo mundo sabe disso.”
“Nem todos os cogumelos são venenosos.” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “Talvez ele conheça os bons.”
“Bem. Eu não sei como dizer aos venenosos dos outros.” Fofoque disse. “Meus amigos e vizinhos também não sabem. Se ele sabe, é porque ele é um bruxo! O Diabo ensina-lhe coisas que as pessoas decentes nem querem saber!”
“Você realmente acha?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Claro.” Disse Fofoque. “Uma vez uma menina, perto, ficou grávida, e ela foi para Boa Vista para um aborto. Quando voltasse, a família não a perdoaria. Eles eram Católicos, e o padre disse que o aborto estava errado. Sua família fechou a porta sobre ela. Ninguém a levaria, exceto aquele gringo. O tolo malvado a deixou ela ficar em sua pousada!”
“Você acha que ele cobrou seu aluguel pelo quarto?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou com a língua na bochecha.
“Ninguém sabe se ele fez.” Fofoque disse. “Provavelmente não. Ele nem se importou que a menina assassinou seu próprio bebê. Meu amigo uma vez lhe perguntou por que ele a deixou ela ficar em sua pousada.”
“Qual foi a resposta dele?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Ele disse que o bebê abortado tinha sido uma aberração e nunca deveria ter nascido.” Fofoque respondeu.
“Talvez ela era muito jovem e não poderia ter cuidado de uma criança com um defeito de nascimento grande.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Como ele sabia que era um monstro, se não fosse ele que fez da criança um monstro com seus feitiços terríveis?” Fofoque respondeu.
“Talvez a garota o tenha contado?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Isso é bobagem. Como ela poderia saber?” Fofoque respondeu.
“Eu acho que eles poderiam ter tido acesso a um ultrassom?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“O que é isso?” Perguntou Fofoque.
“É uma . . ma.” O vendedor ambulante começou a responder, mas o cliente fofocante saltou de repente.
O vendedor ambulante olhou na direção que o cliente fofocando estava olhando. O tolo malvado estava voltando de sua missão salvadora de sapos. O cliente despediu-se do vendedor ambulante, correndo de volta para o seu amigo sofredor na outra mesa. O cliente fofoqueiro estava, sem dúvida, bastante satisfeito consigo mesmo por sua óbvia coragem ter advertido o vendedor ambulante da desgraça iminente do homem, generosamente enfeitada com detalhes lúgubre de destinos possíveis. Balançando a cabeça para o cliente loquaz, o tolo malvado sentou-se de volta em sua antiga cadeira.
Ao fazê-lo, o tolo malvado perguntou a o vendedor ambulante. “Você é muito mais sábio agora?”
“Ai sim. Estou muito mais consciente, não só de ter visto as provas, mas ouvido comentários, e ponderado sobre o seu comportamento incomparável.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu. “Agora também eu sei porque você não pode ser confiável em torno de pessoas decentes.”
Capítulo Seis
“Estou tão feliz.” O tolo malvado simpatizou.” Não é um milagre que eu não tenha fugido com todo o seu alho?”
“Não. Eu estava em cima de você, há muito tempo, e tinha firmemente amarrado à minha mochila. “O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Oh. Isso explica por que você não foi vítima.” O tolo malvado disse. “Onde nós estávamos?”
“Os deuses são demônios, mas não podemos matá-los,” o vendedor ambulante lembrado. Porque estamos desarmados.”
“Ai sim. Mas o suficiente de tal agradável discernimento. Vamos voltar à dura poupança do planeta.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Estou pronto.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Nós estamos montando nossa espécie em uma curva de crescimento parabólica, e cada dia nos aproximamos um ponto mais perto do precipício descendente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Sem o Pontibus, será preciso um milagre para não descer a inclinação exponencial para o abismo. Mesmo com tal milagre, podemos ainda não permanecer vivo. Precisamos dessas Grandes Pontes.”
“Talvez alguma doença venha e nos enxugue todos.” O vendedor ambulante sugerido.
“Os superpredadores estão pensando nisso, não tenho dúvidas; eles disseram mesmo assim. “O tolo malvado disse.
“Realmente?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim. Mas eles precisarão nos bater muito com um número de assaltos microbianos. Implantando apenas um não fará o trabalho. Ebola, Zika, etc. eram apenas testes em pequena escala para os vírus de símio de alto impacto que eventualmente planejam usar.” O tolo malvado disse. “Estamos apenas sendo usados como cobaias, no momento. Nosso propósito principal, para eles, é como escravos símios.”
“Por que não apenas um vírus nos varreu?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Pela mesma razão, alguma doença natural, como a peste bubônica, não poderia nos exterminar. Temos sistemas imunológicos, e sempre haverá sobreviventes.” O tolo malvado explicou. “Aqueles intrépidos guardiões entrópicos da descentralização não são onipotentes.”
“Entendo.”
“A maioria de povos instruídos concordariam que nossos inimigos principais no planeta são micróbios, fungos e insetos. Eu não acredito. Acho que, embora sejam concorrentes hostis, quase inimigos, eles também nos ajudam a sobreviver.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Leveduras, cogumelos e abelhas vêm à mente, como nossos amigos, mas há muitos outros não tão benignos.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Muito verdadeiro.” O tolo malvado disse.” Yersinia pestis, Morte Negra, tirou 1/3 do Homo da Europa no século 14, quase um quarto de nossa espécie inteira. Era um abate que precisávamos. Imagine qual seria a nossa população hoje se a praga não tivesse aparecido.”
“Mente misturando para ter certeza.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Nós nunca começamos a mostrar nosso apreço.” O tolo malvado disse.
“E você está realmente envergonhado desse fato.” O vendedor ambulante brincou. “Eu posso dizer.”
“Absolutamente.”
“Então.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Encontrou onde deixou sua vergonha?
“Sim. Pelo visto.” O tolo malvado disse.
“A vergonha de lado, mostrando nosso apreço seria difícil, se a raça humana realmente queria fazer um ato tanto magnânimo, mas fútil.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
O tolo malvado riu e disse. “Eu não acho que haja nenhum monumento a micróbios em qualquer lugar. Não é política fazê-lo, dada a preocupação desenfreada com a superstição religiosa irresponsável e o culto à morte. Se quisermos ser mais aconselhados, no entanto, devemos aceitar o fato que os insetos, fungos e micróbios não são nossos principais inimigos. “Nossos inimigos reais são símios, predadores intraespécies. Os parasitas do símio e perseguição da riqueza da caedere são muito mais mortais. Eles são descontrolados e podem ser incontroláveis em nossa espécie.”
“Você terá que me explicar por que você sente que o culto à morte e a predação intraespécies são tão, aparentemente, onipotentes?” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“OK. Mas, primeiro precisamos definir o que é um predador humano.” O tolo malvado disse.
O vendedor ambulante adivinhou. “Se alguém acredita que eles têm o direito de fazer outras pessoas doentes, roubá-los, estuprá-los ou matá-los, suponho.“
“Então eles são um predador?” O tolo malvado disse.
“Sim.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Creio que si.”
“Eu concordo. Colocando gente na prisão, por anos, como os escravos, porque foram encontrados para ter o vegetal ou a parte errada de uma planta proibida em seu bolso.” O tolo malvado perguntado. “Isso não é predação?”
“Isso é definitivamente inapropriado.” O vendedor ambulante disse, olhando em volta circunspectamente.
“Concordo, mas gostaria de acrescentar, que também é predação; Como está mantendo doentes enfermo ou usando Lei Escrita para ajudá-los a ficar fora da prisão. “O tolo malvado disse.
“Por que o último?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Manter enfermos doentes para adquirir riqueza caedere é tão parasita como fazê-los doentes em primeiro lugar, não é?” O tolo malvado perguntou.
“Sim. Acho que sim.” O vendedor ambulante concordou.
“O Talmude ordena às suas vítimas enganadas fazerem tudo tais coisas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Entre muitos outros crimes, mandatos. A maioria dos médicos Judeus são Talmudistas.”
“Eu entendo por que colocar pessoas na prisão é predatória, mas por que é manter as pessoas fora da prisão uma forma de predação também?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Advogados e políticos vendem a ideia de que eles podem legislar para fora da Natureza, fazendo crimes da Lei Natural, fazendo com que os criminosos saem de pessoas saudáveis. O poder, obtido como um resíduo de posse da riqueza caedere, é predação. Usando a Lei Escrita, escravizar ou não escravizar, é predatório. É uma maneira de esquivar a culpa de usar o poder usurpado para escravizar ou para se beneficiar de abster-se de escravizar. Culpe-o sobre a “Lei”, como os padres culpam tudo em “Deus”. Isso significa garantir que aqueles com menores quantidades de caedere riqueza, o predador pode adquirir, vai para a inferno, prisão, ou perder processos judiciais, com mais frequência do que aqueles que têm muita caedere riqueza o predador pode adquirir.” O tolo malvado disse. “A Lei Escrita é uma farsa, quando não é usada como uma arma contra os desprotegidos. Mesmo a xícara de café da manhã contém uma crueldade sem coração suficiente para exemplificar apenas um aspecto da ineficácia da desculpa que seus defensores dão para sua existência. Todos os bebedores de café do mundo ignoram essa crueldade, como fazem os especuladores de guerra. A indústria de armas e os ricos não têm a menor percepção da tristeza e da dor que eles causam com a sua descoberta de ouro insana e, mesmo que tenham percebido que eles não têm sentimento suficiente para detê-lo. É como dois mundos separados, inteiros e distintos, um do outro. A Lei ajuda esse distanciamento ao proteger o mundo “ter” do “não ter” outro.”
“Isso é verdade.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Os advogados exigem a riqueza do caedere como uma recompensa para escravizar e não escravizar.” O tolo malvado disse. “Não estão?”
“Sim. Acho que sim.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eles fazem.” O tolo malvado disse. “E isso é apenas parte do engano. Se um advogado sabe que ele pode obter mais caedere avanço, como o dinheiro, do adversário de seu cliente do que de seu próprio cliente apalpando seu próprio cliente nas costas, você acha que vai abster-se de fazê-lo?”
“Eu não sei.” O vendedor ambulante admitiu.
“É claro que não vai.” O tolo malvado respondeu a si mesmo. “Nunca ouvi falar de um advogado leal, nunca. Os advogados chamam de traição tão comum da confiança que as pessoas têm neles “ficando muito perto de um caso”. Todos os advogados “chegam muito perto do caso”, até mesmo os advogados do estado. Você acha que os juízes não recebem chamadas à noite, enquanto eles estão sentados confortavelmente com um copo de Cabernet, assistindo filmes de pornografia-infantil na privacidade de suas casas? Você acha que eles não exigem que eles “se aproximem demais de um caso”? Você acha que eles não são direcionados para lançar um litigante para os lobos? Os predadores humanos são mais fracos, mais apreensivos, mais traiçoeiros, não mais aptos, do que suas presas humanas em todas as categorias. No entanto, os predadores são aqueles que exercem o poder sobre os outros e controlam as contingências.”
“Por quê?”
“Uma boa pergunta. Possessão de riqueza caedere, ou sua falta, não tem relação com o valor ou a aptidão humana, nem mesmo uma ligeira correlação.” O tolo malvado disse. “Como advogados e politicos, a maioria dos possuidores de grandes quantidades de simbolismo caedere são encontrados na escória da humanidade, não em seu ápice.”
“Eu não sei.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu.
“Um carnívoro é mais adequado do que um herbívoro?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Não.”
“Será que um canibal está comendo carne de símia significa que é mais adequado para dominar os símios?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Não.”
“Eu concordo”. O tolo malvado disse. “A razão pela qual a predação é tão forte e prevalecente hoje não é porque ele engana a nossa forma física. É por causa da bizarra, de apreensão, de adoração da morte, e pervertida caracterização da riqueza.”
“Caedere.
“Certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mesmo mais do que outros Life, os predadores estão todos interligados, ajudando e instigando uns aos outros. Eles também são muito eficientes acumuladores de caedere riqueza. Tais super cartels, alianças de predadores e sanções político-esgoto são uma violação direta do Direito Natural, revertendo a ordem natural dos princípios de seleção. O verdadeiro inimigo da biosustentabilidade é o desejo de adquirir e manter a riqueza de caedere – símbolos de morte. Todas as ameaças à vida protoplasmática e toda a exaustão dos recursos podem ser atribuídas à sobrepopulação símia e à vontade de adquirir riqueza caedere. Caedere riqueza nos protege da realidade, mas não pode fazê-lo para sempre. O desperdício incrivelmente caloso da recompensa planetária e ignorância obstinada são possíveis graças à economia da riqueza caedere. Quanto mais dinheiro ou dívida tiver, maior é a licença concedida à loucura institucionalizada. Há uma proporção direta envolvida. ”
“Falando de loucura institucionalizada, você também não denominaria religião uma psicose coletiva? Apesar de muita grandiloquência pelo contrário, pelo que eu vi, os religiosos confiam na riqueza acima de tudo, mesmo em seu Deus, especialmente mais do que em seu Deus.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“No entanto, eles permanecem aterrorizados com a morte e realmente tentam acreditar em uma vida no paraíso após a morte.” O tolo malvado disse. “Essas pessoas são de fato loucas e sérias covardes.”
“Isso porque a alternativa à sua fantasia é mais do que eles podem suportar.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eu acredito que também.” O tolo malvado disse. “Deixando de lado por um momento o ilógico de sua premissa. A fé que eles professam ter. . ”
“Mas não tem.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Certo. Mas de qualquer forma. Significa logicamente que sua morte é um passo necessário no caminho da bem-aventurança eterna.” O tolo malvado disse. “Não é?”
“Sim! Sim! Eles desejam a morte! Talvez algum dia alguém dê a esses adoradores da morte o que eles sonham.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Oh, eu tenho certeza disso, e eles também.” O tolo malvado disse. “Algo vai. Minha preocupação é que eles vão arrastar toda a Vida para baixo com eles para o provar.”
“Eles estão tentando.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Você já leu o livro da Bíblia de Apocalipse?”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles acreditam que a morte e a destruição significam êxtase.”
“Realmente?” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles acreditam que a morte universal de fato resultará em um estado de euforia eterna para eles.”
“Por quê?”
“Porque, eles querem que todos os outros sofrer e morram.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles acreditam, como aquele louco vindicativa poeta Italiano do século XIII, Dante Alighieri. Eles acreditam que estarão observando, enquanto voam em torno de seus pontos de vantagem no “outro mundo”, como zumbis, que serão vingados observando o “não salvo” sendo torturado e eternamente morrendo. Como Dante, esses crentes sentem que serão vingados observando o tormento prometido de seus companheiros. É parte do pacote de ódio e inveja que esses doidos religiosos abrigam e sentem por cada outra pessoa no mundo. As pessoas religiosas são verdadeiramente doentes mentais.”
“No entanto, eles parecem confiar na morte simbólica, caedere riqueza, ainda mais do que eles querem uma morte real!” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Uma loucura inigualável que não se podia encontrar em Bedlam.” O tolo malvado disse. “Pessoas inteligentes e mentalmente saudáveis não acreditam em tal podridão. Mas, essas pessoas são escassas.”
“Você e eu não acreditamos.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Mas, nós dois somos pobres.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nós não contamos. Ninguém escuta mendigos.”
“Você tem razão.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Talvez seja uma espécie de resposta psicológica defensiva para nós.” O tolo malvado disse. “Outro tipo de inveja.”
“Não. Nossa persuasão é incomum.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Pobre é comum.”
“Verdade. A maioria do gênero Homo não é nem inteligente nem mentalmente saudável. É por isso que a “dem”ocracia, a regra dos “dem”entes, in”den”iza as urnas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Isso garante que o mais ignóbil e corrupto do balde de recursos humanos é selecionado para a coroação.”
“Regras de maioria.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
Capítulo Sete
“Meu ponto exatamente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Violação coletiva. Os mais ignorantes e base dos eleitores são sempre na maioria. A minoria e os desprotegidos são esperados para fica estuprada e ir para o inferno.”
“Mas, eu pensei que estivéssemos de acordo que tal lugar não existe?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante, alegremente.
“Muito engraçado.” O tolo malvado sem humor disse. “Se esses predadores religiosos que adoram a morte tiverem sucesso em matar-nos, lançando nossa inteligência, saúde mental e “também-corres”. . . ”
“Ye-e-es.” O vendedor ambulante arrasou.
O tolo malvado do crescente calor esfriou, e ele disse. ” . . . Haverá menos Entropia do que com um planeta saudável. A Entropia estaria do nosso lado, se levássemos em consideração. A Terra, com um Pontibus, poderia estar mais saudável e mais desordenada.”
“Tem certeza disso?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por quê?”
“Com a vida multicelular, a Entropia ganha de forma mensurável sobre um planeta unicelular cheio de vida ou um mundo estéril.” O tolo malvado disse.
“O que é Entropia?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“A entropia é caos, desordem, aleatoriedade, chance, estocástica. .” O tolo malvado disse.
“E você diz que um planeta saudável está desordenado?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou, abruptamente. “Caótico?!”
“Sim.”
“Você não está fazendo nenhum sentido.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Todo mundo respeita a lei e a ordem em uma sociedade, exceto para criminosos!”
“Os criminosos respeitam a Lei e a Ordem em uma sociedade mais do que outros. Eles precisam de uma população ordenada. É mais fácil explorar aqueles que são regimentados a obedecer certas regras. As pessoas que cumprem a lei estão acostumadas a aceitar o equívoco de que todos são respeitadores da lei como são. Mas, esse é outro assunto. A ordem na sociedade é provocada pela desordem máxima no nível molecular.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se não houvesse nenhuma desordem, no nível molecular, nada poderia existir. A entropia é uma das quatro leis da termodinâmica. Nada existe além disso.”
“E as outras três Leis?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Temperatura, nenhum almoço grátis, Entropia é eterna.” O tolo malvado disse.
“É por isso que eu sou dois anéis de alho mais pobre.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Algo assim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Agora você conhece as quatro Leis da Termodinâmica.
“E eu nem precisava estudar física.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Diabo sortudo.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Voltando à Entropia. Por que queremos, e mesmo ansiamos pela ordem, se Entropia é tão contrária a isso?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não ser antropomórfico, mas, há muito tempo, a Entropia fez um negócio de fato com o Diabo e Vida. A entropia aceita um pouco de ordem molecular ao permitir a Vida. Em troca, a Vida permite Entropia uma maior desordem global.” O tolo malvado disse. “Isso se resume em Entropia sendo “Deus Quase Todo Poderoso” e Vida sendo “O Diabo”.”
“Você está puxando minha perna?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não. Bem, na verdade, não foi a Vida, como tal, mas o que a Vida é em grande parte feita de – água – que fez o acordo tácito.” O tolo malvado disse. “É difícil aceitar que qualquer pessoa, além de crianças pequenas antes de um banho, acreditaria que a água é o Diabo. Muito mais fácil de acreditar a Vida é o demônio com chifres. Mas, é a mesma coisa.”
“O quê?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Absolutamente.” O tolo malvado disse. “A molécula de água existe apenas porque Entropia não tem escolha. Um desses fatos naturais que me atormentam.”
“Realmente?” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “Por quê?”
“Eu entendo a química e a física, mas as implicações são. . . Por que a Vida permite que a crença religiosa louca de adoração à morte esteja além de meus poderes para decifrar. Mesmo se você descontar esses grandes maníacos, os apaixonados adoradores da morte, Luciferianos, Cristãos, Judeus e Muçulmanos – o que resta da raça humana também adora a morte!” Disse o tolo malvado. “E eu não entendo isso.”
“Todos usamos critérios de caedere para definir nossa riqueza, e sua acumulação é o nosso Deus?” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Precisamente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Por que não podemos contar com Entropia para nos ajudar mais? Todos nós nos comportamos como se fossemos religiosos anões! Somos apenas um pouco menos ignorantes e demente do que Luciferianos, Cristãos, Judeus e Muçulmanos! Mas, nós adoramos também a morte e fomos negligentes na aprendizagem da biosustentabilidade. Precisamos adorar a Vida em toda sua diversidade e interconectividade, ou vamos ficar extintos.”
“Então, por que não?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Nós não o quê?” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por que não adoramos a Vida?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Exatamente.” O tolo malvado secundado. “Por quê?”
“Não sei.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Essa adoração da Vida inclui adorar a vida de predadores?”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Devemos adorar a Vida, toda a vida, jogando caedere riqueza no lixo da história.”
“Não há uma inconsistência nisso, com os predadores?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“É um paradoxo, tendo a ver com a forma como estamos construídos.” O tolo malvado disse. “A natureza não tornou mais fácil separar nossas características comportamentais de nossa vida. Se não podemos convencer os superpredadores a parar de nos parasitar, enfraquecendo nossa espécie, ainda podemos adorar a vida neles. Se removemos seu comportamento predatório, a Natureza pode retomar sua vida. Ou eles perecem ou todos nós perecemos. Pode ser o esquecimento para o predador ou a extinção da raça humana. O mundo símio exige que você preso acima, ou seja, presa. Estou oferecendo uma alternativa, como um ser humano missionado. As pessoas precisam fazer a escolha.”
“Se nosso passado curto é qualquer prognosticador do nosso futuro, provavelmente pereceremos, arrastando a maioria das outras formas de vida para o abismo com a gente.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Infelizmente, sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “A raça símia é tão desprezível que aceitou a loucura coletiva como normal.”
O vendedor ambulante não apreciava ser chamado de desprezível, e ele deixou o tolo malvado conhecer sua mente, dizendo. “O mundo inteiro é louco, e só você está sã!”
“Você pode dizer isso.” O tolo malvado disse. “Um pouco draconiano na entrega, mas tende a ser uma boa observação.”
“Você está começando a provar o argumento daquele indivíduo lá sobre o estado de sua saúde mental.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“É o que eu estou dizendo realmente uma extensão tão grande de razão para aceitar?” O tolo malvado perguntou.
“Sim.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eu preciso mostrar a você como louco os símios neste planeta são?” O tolo malvado perguntou.
“Sim.”
“Ok, eu vou.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por favor faça.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Os governos do mundo são basicamente parecidos com as democracias.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles não são?”
“Sim. Eu acho que sim. “O vendedor ambulante respondeu.
O tolo malvado disse. “O mais básico e ignorante dos maiores covardes e malfeitores que já existiram votaram no poder os corruptos e traiçoeiros potentados políticos. Uma vez que os mentirosos e traidores predadores são eleitos, esses mesmos eleitores os adoram. Essa insanidade é tão difícil de reconhecer?
“Não é incomparável inteligência, mas, quando você considerar as alternativas,. . ” O vendedor ambulante equívoco.
“OK, tente isso.” O tolo malvado disse. “Praticamente toda a população do mundo sabe que o gênero Homo representa um enorme subconjunto de 7 bilhões de ignorantes, brutal, traiçoeiro, preguiçoso e desonesto desperdícios. Só isso é um pensamento sóbrio. O que é tão incrível é que a maioria das pessoas ainda fará quase tudo para obter aprovação, admiração e respeito por esses macacos glorificados!”
“É loucura, não é?” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Isso é o que eu tenho tentado fazer você ver.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Eu não queria vê-lo.” O vendedor disse. “Dói, e é terrível.”
“O que é pior é que a Vida é totalmente sem sentido.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Isto é?”
“Isto é.” O tolo malvado falhou. “Todos nós nos divertimos um pouco, algumas mais do que outros. Todos nós sofremos um pouco, algumas mais do que outros. Todos nós fazemos um impacto, algumas mais do que outros. Então todos nós morremos e apodrimos, não significando nada. Não podemos nem mesmo responder às questões mais fundamental da nossa existência.”
” O que eles são?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Eu não sei o que será de mim! Como algo vem do nada, isto é, como a massa, a energia e a Entropia chegaram aqui?” Perguntou o tolo malvado. “Onde está liderando?”
“Tanto quanto eu sei, Essas perguntas nunca chegaram nem perto de ser respondida.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Não. Eles são sempre mais afastados, usando o disfarce de erudita “autoridade”.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Bem. . ”
“Com licença. Eu esqueci sobre o “Deus fez isso” absurdo religioso de suas vítimas de fato.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Você está desculpado.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Mas, a vida sem sentido não significa também que a vida não é bizarra.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Como é isso?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Se você não aceita que nada existe, isto é, nós e todo o espaço não somos apenas fugas imaginárias, então, a loucura de nossa existência é evidentemente óbvia. Nem sequer sabemos com certeza que existimos! O que está sobreposto a essa loucura é ainda mais fora da parede. As pessoas trabalham e procuram acumular riqueza caedere. Não?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Sim.”
“As pessoas realmente não sabem se elas existem. Não há nenhuma prova em qualquer lugar. Mas, eles querem símbolos de morte, prova imaginária de separação da existência, em torno deles, de qualquer maneira. Eles até mesmo fazem testamentos para a eliminação de fortunas caedere subsequentes à sua morte. Eles querem, em sua virtual impotência, controlar a vida, isso pode não existir, com morte e morte simbólica mesmo depois de sua própria morte.” O tolo malvado disse.” Vivemos completamente misturados com a morte, o não-ser, tanto dentro de nossos corpos quanto fora deles, passado, presente e futuro, existente e não existente.”
“As condições, post mortem, não podem ser afetadas exatamente para se conformar à vontade do corpo vivo ou do cadáver.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Não.” O tolo malvado disse. “O moribundo vai ordenar que, após a sua morte, os executores de sua propriedade conceder riqueza caedere de tal forma que eles acham que vai importar para eles enquanto em status “zumbi”. A ilusão de vontade de poder inunda tudo na proximidade.
“Bizarro é a palavra.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Muitos dão aos seus herdeiros grande riqueza caedere. Eles podem assumir que esses herdeiros não são cheios de ódio por eles ou não eram seus inimigos jurados em uma existência passada ou de alguma outra dimensão.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Esse comportamento realmente parece ser loucura. Peço desculpas. Por que o mundo inteiro não fica bêbado, como nós estamos fazendo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Ouvir. Ouvir. E ficar assim até que a cirrose entregue ao paraíso?” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por que não?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“É a ameaça de ressaca, balançando sobre a cabeça, como a espada de Damocles, tudo o que impede a humanidade de perseguir, ainda mais entusiasticamente, os meios de destruir toda a Vida?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Parece ser uma premissa lógica.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Podemos estar em algo aqui.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Tenho certeza de que em nosso elevado estado de embriaguez incipiente há aspectos que simplesmente não estavam vendo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Provavelmente certo.” O tolo malvado disse.“ Já tive o suficiente.”
“Está ficando escuro, e eu ainda preciso pegar minha rede amarrada.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Você pode fazer isso na minha pousada.” O tolo malvado disse, enquanto saíam da praça.

Capítulo Oito
No dia do seguinte, o vendedor ambulante de alho foi para Mucajaí e Caracaraí vender sua erva, e o tolo malvado trabalhou em torno de sua pequena pousada. Foi um número de semanas mais tarde que o vendedor ambulante de alho voltou para Apiaunhai. Ele tinha economizado um pouco, de suas vendas, e parou para ver o tolo malvado. O vendedor ambulante queria comprar algumas cervejas para uma repetição de sua última vez juntos. O tolo malvado estava consertando uma tomada de luz, mas respondeu que estaria pronto em poucos minutos.
O tolo malvado demorou mais do que o esperado com as reparações elétricas, pois sua visão impediu uma resolução rápida. O que deveria ter levado pouco tempo com boa visão levou muito tempo com suas cataratas. Tanto o principal como a penúria evitavam uma resolução do problema da visão dele. Mas, quando o tolo malvado terminou tarefa dele, o vendedor ambulante usou o tempo para amarrar sua rede a um par de mangueiras, crescendo no quintal da pousada e tomar banho. Mais tarde, eles chegaram ao bar.
Depois que os dois estavam sentados e uma cerveja estava na mesa antes deles, o vendedor ambulante começou a conversa, dizendo. “Eu pensei muito sobre o que você disse sobre a riqueza.”
“E você chegou a qualquer conclusão sobre se você concorda ou discorda?” O tolo malvado perguntou.
“Parecia bom, mas havia coisas que você disse que me deixaram desconfortável. Eu quero ouvir mais.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“O que fez você se sentir desconfortável?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Bem. Eu sou um crente no capitalismo de livre-mercado.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“E o capital está tão intimamente ligado aos valores da caedere, certo?” Disse o tolo malvado.
“Sim. Esse é o meu problema.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu.
“A predação, intrínseca no capitalismo, pode ser insidiosa.” O tolo malvado admitiu. “Mas as alternativas não são melhores. Tanto o comunismo como o socialismo são criações capitalistas. Eles foram projetados para escravizar a população do mesmo modo que o capitalismo tardio fez. O primeiro escravizou mais rapidamente do que o capitalismo, mas ambos usaram a riqueza de caedere para inaugurar essa escravidão.”
“Temos de mostrar alguma responsabilidade, se quisermos manter um mercado-livre, e não sei por onde começar com isso.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Não gosto muito mais do que falar sobre a responsabilidade humana.” O tolo malvado disse. “Acho que podemos manter o livre mercado e ainda ser responsável.”
“Como?”
“Antes de tudo, precisamos de alguma forma superar o fato de que a responsabilidade pessoal atualmente é impossível para nós”. O tolo malvado disse.
“Nós fazemos?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante. “Isto é?”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Seria tão bom acreditar no livre arbítrio e responsabilidade pessoal, como os religiosos, culpando-o em Deus, por um lado, e em si mesmos, pôr o outro lado, ao mesmo tempo.”
“Não faria isso.” O vendedor ambulante concordou. “Mas, isso faria fé na impossibilidade.”
“Sim, seria.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Os religiosos não têm nenhum problema em negar sua razão “dada por Deus”, mas como cientista, não posso fazer isso. O meu motivo me diz que minha “responsabilidade” é controlada por programadores mal compreendidos, soluções de sal químicas flutuantes e comensais biológicos dentro e fora da minha pessoa.”
“Nós somos meros fantoches?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Essa é uma maneira de olhar para ele.” O tolo malvado disse. “E, para a maioria do mundo vivo, é uma boa analogia.”
“Não há escapatória?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim, existe.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, não é fácil, e devemos nos rebelar.”
“Contra quem?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Contra o status quo e talvez os programadores.”
“Eu entendo contrariar o status quo, mas para que programadores você se refere?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não tenho certeza . . . DNA, simuladores digitais … Conheço o risco e os sintomas da revolução fracasso.” O tolo malvado disse.
“O que?”
“Você está familiarizado com a expressão Grega antiga. “Aquele que os deuses desejam destruir, eles primeiro ficam loucos”. ” O tolo malvado perguntou.
“Sim.”
O tolo malvado continuou. “Então, você sabe o que acontece se sua tentativa de responsabilidade pessoal for contrária a algum programador.”
“Eu não entendo.”
“Para desafiar a irresponsabilidade, devemos quebrar algo, alguma regra, cometer suicídio, ou algo assim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Não podemos ser pessoalmente responsáveis e ainda permanecer dentro nos bares que cercam a gaiola da realidade objetiva.”
“Agora, estou realmente confuso.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Você está dizendo que devemos estar loucos para ser seres responsáveis?”
“Para ser criaturas responsáveis, devemos pertencer a uma sociedade biosustentável.” O tolo malvado disse. “Isso significa que devemos nos libertar do comportamento irresponsável sancionado normalmente. A parte mais irresponsável de nossa existência é a definição atual de riqueza – caedere capital. Devemos mudar os valores da nossa espécie de pro-Morte para pro-Vida, de pro-caedere para pro-animans. As Grande Pontibus Pontes são uma maneira de fazer isso. É também muito além do tempo para nós fazer a paz com a Natureza. Precisamos recorrer a muitos métodos milenares de sobrevivência.”
O vendedor ambulante disse. “A Lei Natural pode ser perigosa.”
“E um mestre duro.” O tolo malvado acrescentou.
“Para o que vale, os antigos concordaram com sua solução tentativa.” O vendedor ambulante disse e leu de um livro que estava segurando. “Lucan disse o melhor — “Naturamque sequi – siga a Natureza.”.”
“Nossa espécie precisa de eugenia, eutanásia e violência direcionada tanto quanto qualquer espécie faz.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, mais de 7 bilhões de pessoas jamais o aceitarão inteiramente. Eles não são fortes o suficiente, e os instintos com os quais outras criaturas nascem, os símios não têm.”
“Eu não sei se eu gosto de onde você está me levando.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “O que você quer dizer com violência direcionada?”
“Há muitos alvos adicionais que eu tenho certeza que estou negligenciando, mas, essencialmente, estou pensando nos inimigos da liberdade e da autodefesa.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nossa espécie inteira é escravizada à riqueza caedere. É imaterial se vem como resultado do projeto superpredador ou de uma resposta ao poder de sua manipulação política. Caedere riqueza violações do planeta e permite que os superpredadores para brincar com o estabelecimento de rigidez totalitária. A biometria e a “internet das coisas” são apenas o começo. Em breve seremos inundados por controle tecnológica e vigilância despóticos. A rigidez do nosso condicionamento está prestes a assumir um novo aspecto.”
“Os sinais são onipresentes, e as pessoas parecem estar implorando por ele.” O vendedor ambulante acrescentou.
“É assim que eu leio. A ordem política despótica é a matriz da rigidez catatônica. Biologicamente, rigidez significa morte. Socialmente, o despotismo universal significa a morte da espécie ou, pelo menos, democidios, genocídios, e o fim da melhoria humana.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nós não somos insetos, movendo-se em fase com feromônios femininos. Nem, estamos destinados a existir em um absolutismo agro gerencial Oriental.”
Os dois pediram um tira gosto, e o tolo malvado continuou. “Percepções tornam-se concepções. As percepções distorcidas pelo predador, filtradas através de uma mídia corrupta e mendaz, controlada pelo totalitarismo, se solidificarão, em devido tempo, em concepções retorcidas. Conceitos rígidos e distorcidas em uma espécie até mudarão a expressão gênica e, eventualmente, se manifestarão como uma loucura semelhante ao liminhas. Esses conceitos cum demência deve finalmente acabar em nossa extinção. ”
“A natureza não é enganada pela ignorância de nossa espécie.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Ela não é. De ampla experiência, com seus fracassos passados, Ela entende muito bem.” O tolo malvado concordou. “Ela tem pouca paciência com qualquer fraqueza.”
“E você acredita que a loucura do lemming já começou?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim. Parece que à medida que perdemos mais da nossa liberdade, amando a nossa arregimentação, também perdemos nossa capacidade de discernir como viver naturalmente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nós esquecemos a sabedoria natural e a moralidade fundamental, dependendo do governo e dos nossos vizinhos para nos manter na fila. Há uma incontrolável e até mesmo a recusa apaixonada para viver naturalmente e eliminar as anomalias símios do rebanho. A energia barata, a predação ilimitada, a acumulação de riquezas caedere, etc. intoxicam-nos. Se levadas a conclusões lógicas, tais mudanças forçarão nossas espécies parcialmente perturbadas a uma completa loucura. Adulação, emulação e exaltação incontestáveis de superpredadores não ajudam.”
“Eu suponho que os” superpredadores “a quem você se refere são os Rothschilds, as Rainhas, etc.?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim. Entre outros possessores sérios da riqueza do caedere.” O tolo malvado disse. “A natureza deu a essas pessoas uma capacidade superpredadoria para usar camuflagem específica de símio (isto é, a habilidade de trapacear, roubar e trair), com impunidade. Junto com essa capacidade, no entanto, a natureza deu-lhes uma grande fraqueza – eles nunca podem cortar essas tendências predatórias o suficiente para ser seres humanos. A maioria das pessoas considera que esses superpredadores são maus, só porque são predadores humanos, parasitas.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Você não !?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Não. A verdade é muito mais prosaica.” O tolo malvado disse. “Superpredadores são simplesmente incapazes de exibir qualidades humanas, além das existentes em todos os símios.”
“Os superpredadores são “desumanos”.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim, mas, “desumano” não no sentido de que é usado como outra palavra para o mal. “Desumanos” no sentido de que eles não têm objetivo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Para ser “humano” deve-se aspirar a alguma coisa. Os julgamentos morais símios são ridículos, na maior parte absurda religiosa. Eles não são instintivos ou baseados em princípios naturais. A epistemologia e a casuística não nos dizem muito sobre moralidade verdadeira. A idiossincrasia comportamental ética dos outros não nos dá o direito legítimo de julgar a gravidade de seu valor moral ou sua personificação do “bem” ou do “mal”.”
“Por que não?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Tal conduta é selvageria, ignorância ignorada.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Isto é?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou, começando, mais uma vez, a pensar que seu interlocutor era provavelmente tão louco e perverso quanto seus vizinhos pensavam.
“Claro, é.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nós somos, desesperadamente, demais ignorantes para sentar em julgamento, , especialmente em um mundo onde a responsabilidade pessoal pela ação não pode existe.”
“Por causa de algo tão comum como a ignorância generalizada, não temos o direito de julgar alguém na condição humana?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não temos o direito natural de tentar julgar.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nossa ignorância primordial é demais grande para ser descrita. É como o breio-bebe. Cada vez que tentamos escapar da dor de nossa impotência, julgando um infeliz, ficamos presos no alcatrão novamente. Tudo o que fazemos quando arrogamos o direito de julgar é trazer mais dor ao mundo. Nosso único recurso com respeito à predação é determinar se as ações de uma pessoa podem tender a contribuir para a nossa morte ou para a nossa comunidade.”
“Você realmente acredita que não há justo ou malvado, sagrado ou profano, bom ou mau, certo ou errado?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Incrível, não é? Blackstone me consideraria “insano”, assim como fazem meus vizinhos símios.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, eu acredito que não há seres humanos bons, assim como não há nenhum homem mau. Imputar responsabilidade pessoal pelo comportamento individual é uma super fraude. Se a Sociedade deseja ter um grupo mais suave e mais conformista com o qual coexistir, é melhor começar a fazer um melhor trabalho de socializar os jovens.”
“Você está ciente de que não apenas as pessoas aqui, mas o mundo inteiro provavelmente sentiria que você está insano, dizendo e acreditando tais declarações?” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Certo. Eu sou um ser sentindo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Só para sobreviver nesta gaiola, eu preciso saber o estado de espírito do símio médio. Mas, eu não me importo se o mundo inteiro acredita que eu sou louco para minhas inferências. Eu me importo com os significados dessas crenças, mas as penalidades estão fora do meu controle, assim como todas as consequências de nosso comportamento. Minhas opiniões representam uma vida de observações e análise de fatos desconfortáveis que muitos outros não ousam reconhecer ou pensar. O que eu hipótese como verdade eu incorporo em minha mente junto com meus esforços criativos e deixar por isso mesmo. Além de ter cuidado com o máximo de eles, as opiniões predominantes do mundo não têm valor para mim. Eu ainda era um homem jovem quando eu aprendi a tomar cuidado com o mundo símio perigosamente estúpido.”
“Como é isso?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Eu fui um criminoso toda a minha vida.” O tolo malvado disse.
“O que!?”
“Não é um predador, mente, um criminoso – uma pessoa cujo comportamento se distingue da norma, a última minoria, não aceita e inaceitável pela sociedade.” O tolo malvado disse. “Minha vida de crime começou aos 3 anos de idade por puxando as tranças de Lowey Wigger sempre que ela me permitiu fazer isso. Ficou mais fácil a partir daí. Infelizmente, não há maneira de voltar no tempo para desfazer os atos dos quais você se arrepende. Você aprende muito sobre ignorância e estupidez quando, de longe, de tempo e espaço, você tem a oportunidade de assistir a prática por você ou por outros. O crime não indica depravação. Estamos todos depravados. O crime responde uma necessidade.”
“O quê?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante. “Ganância?”
O tolo malvado ficou silencioso por um momento, e então falou. “Crime! Que farsa. Para enfrentar a vida, neste meio tóxico, Entropy, Nature, ou algum outro programador nos bota uma variedade de coragem variegados ou sua falta. Devemos aprender a existir com este conjunto de assuntos, embora muitos não o façam. Nós sobrevivemos em uma condição sem regras consistentes, até que o suicídio ou alguma outra morte dolorosa e trágica dá nós na paz. Há muitas exceções à eficácia da Regra de Ouro, e nem todos têm o dom de previsão infalível. A maioria das pessoas nunca intencionalmente tenta prejudicar os outros para aliviar a própria dor, mas acontece, no entanto. Depois que um erro criminal é cometido, o perpetrador nunca se livra das consequentes sequelas. Deve dormir, eles despertam cada dia sem fim para um pesadelo interminável.”
“Tem que haver algum cálculo? Não existe?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Há!” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Demais! Esse é o meu ponto! Pagamos muito, com sofrimento, pela nossa existência. Se o meu comportamento composto causar ou causou mais agonia no mundo do que o socorro, algo deu errado com a minha manifestação. Mate-me, rapidamente. Mas quem deve julgar – brutal corruptos advogados e juízes parasitários ou predadores supersticiosos que causam tanto ou mais dor do que eu? Estamos neste meio para sofrer. A agonia incrível é a única razão consistente e concebível de um estudo da vida para a nossa existência. Ninguém, nenhum ser, é qualificado para julgar alguém na condição humana. Tenho cometido muitos crimes na minha vida. Inclinações naturais e as fraquezas como a ignorância ou o desespero me levaram aos aspectos negativos. Quando ou se eu aprendesse o que estava fazendo estava machucando outros, desistira . . . se pudesse. Se não pudesse evitar a exposição, fiz o meu melhor para não ser pego. Eu vi utilidade suficiente em auto castigo por minhas faltas e por outros eventos sobre os quais eu não tinha controle. Por que permitir que bandidos licenciados me punham? A vida estava me criticando o suficiente para os aspectos positivos dos meus crimes. Quando a função da onda colapsa, a lente da realidade deixa alguns crimes remoto enquanto outros são perseguidos. É a sorte do sorteio. A acusação é apenas um exercício de crueldade e futilidade. A própria vida indiciará e castigará o desrespeito das proscrições. Eu puni meus filhos porque eu era muito ignorante para conhecer uma maneira melhor de aliviar a dor do meu desespero para protegê-los. Além do aspecto da ignorância, a sociedade nem tem essa desculpa para se gabar. Ele apresenta um exemplo perfeito de por que as democracias são sempre tiranias predatórias. Com o tempo, a maioria poderosa sempre abusará da minoria fraca. O voto popular é praticamente inteiramente político-correto e supersticioso mierda. A maioria é manipulada pela existência de tirania astrológica, algoritmos de mídia social, história falsa e propaganda insidiosa.”
“Eu não posso concordar com sua perspectiva. Pessoas como Gyorgy Schwartz, Trump, Buffet, Rothschild, Gates, Zucker, e outros bilionários como eles, são monstros em pele de ovelha.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“”Monster” é um epíteto que amarramos em criaturas que não entendemos. Pessoas com diferentes graus de fraqueza humana, liberalmente salpicadas de ignorância de vizinhança, são designadas boas ou más por brutos com base na interpretação comportamental.” O tolo malvado disse. “Aqueles povos que você denominou monstros são fracos desastrosos, superpredadores, esquilos que colocam nozes para invernos que nunca vêm. O mundo inteiro acredita que eles são naturalmente privilegiados, mas o mundo símio é muito ignorante e não faz alias precisas. O superpredador é um escravo cego para caedere riqueza, poder e hedonismo insensível. Esses indivíduos não podem ver como sua avareza está se destruindo, a raça humana, e toda a vida no planeta.”
“Não concordo.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Você não pode concordar, porque você não pode enfrentar sua impotência.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Impotência?!”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Você usa a fé na Lei Escrita para escapar de seus sentimentos de inadequação e impotência. Você e outros como você esperam pacientemente que esses superpredadores cometam um erro. Você acha que algum advogado Galahad em algum lugar milagrosamente levá-los para baixo e colocá-los atrás das grades. É um ignis fatuus, e raramente acontece.”
“Pode ser.” O vendedor ambulante se contorceu.
“Você estava falando mais cedo sobre sua falta de responsabilidade.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Eu estava?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim, você estava. Você não estava mentindo. Se você aceitar minha conclusão, como seu princípio, você teria uma responsabilidade muito maior do que se não tivesse.” O tolo malvado disse. “É demais peso para você. A verdade é um remédio muito amargo para ser direto. Mas, descobri que a responsabilidade inaceitável deixa um sentimento pequeno, sem espírito, e impotente.”
“E você acha que, nessa base, não temos o direito de julgar ou ordenar a nossa sociedade?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Nós não temos capacidade de julgar, ergo – nenhum direito. Nós nos apropriamos mal. Nós usurpamos isso direito. Ordenar a nossa sociedade é outra questão.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Eles não estão conectados?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim. Mas, para compreendê-los, eles devem ser separados.” O tolo malvado disse. “QUALQUER COISA que você faça ou diga, hoje ou tenha dito no passado, pode ser usada contra você, se não hoje, então pelo caminho. A fraqueza pode ser tão efêmera e tão aceita quanto a encontrar-se vulnerável ao estado porque o estado mudou uma lei ou a mídia mudou socialmente. A inocência pode tornar-se culpada ao capricho dos políticos ou da multidão “politicamente correta”. A brutalidade policial na SSA é quase invulnerável à contenção agora com a polícia militarizada, o fascismo desenfreado, a biometria, a vigilância digital, as leis monetárias, os aparelhos “inteligentes” e a violação da Constituição dos EUA. A multidão impõe “absurdo politicamente correto” em cada revolução da roda do capricho. Os policiais roubam cidadãos na rua, em seus carros e casas e no banco. Entregando e traição de amigos para o estado é apenas uma conduta de rotina agora. O certo e o erro são tão flexíveis quanto o senso de fidelidade de um politico. O que se sente hoje pode ser o oposto amanhã só por causa da local ou estrutura social variável, a concentração de sal do seu cérebro, ou o conteúdo microbiano do seu intestino. Os atributos que as pessoas consideram a moral ou o mal não são qualidades objetivas, mas valores são subjetivamente impostos pelos outros. Tal pensamento julgador é o resíduo de culturas selvagens. O Luciferianíssimo, o Cristianismo, o Judaísmo, o Islamismo e outras religiões místicas do “outro mundo” são culturas selvagens contemporâneas que cheiram a “tabus” e absurdos supersticiosos. A verdade desagradável é que nos sentimos compelidos a julgar os infelizes na condição humana, porque tememos a Entropia.”
“Caos?”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Deixe-me dar-lhe um exemplo: Um homem é preso por colocar seu dedo indicador direito na vagina de uma virgem de 10 anos. Dependendo da situação política no lar, a inserção em uma criança, ter pais pobres ou uma criança de uma casa rica pode ter afetos diferentes. Pode causar à criança uma certa quantidade de dor. Ela se recupera – um pouco mais sábia e talvez menos confiável para a experiência. Condições exatamente semelhantes também podem causar uma quantidade insuportável e insuportável de dor, e a criança deve permanecer em terapia o resto de sua vida inteira. A resposta da criança é relativa, mas os fatos são semelhantes e claros.”
“Um crime foi cometido.” O vendedor ambulante disse.

Capítulo Nove
O tolo malvado disse. “Os símios são tão obcecados com reprimido assuntos sexuais que reservam suas punições mais draconianas e criativas para os violadores de seus tabus absurdo. Eu diria que uma pessoa obviamente sucumbiu a uma fraqueza animal, uma incapacidade de resistir ao impulso mais forte e mais primal que existe no Homem. A criança, tão inocente como um bebê coelho, também não podia resistir ao estado de absoluta subjugação e desconhecimento da infância. O homem pode não ter considerado a criança ser um ser humano, ou que a criança não era capaz de consciência do adulto, ou as consequências não intencionais da ação, ou que ele tinha perdido o controle. Na democracia ocidental, o homem será agora submetido à punição mais brutal que o estado Cristão permite – prisão na proximidade de ignorante, brutal, sádico, auto justificado, rejeições símias. Os países com inclinação Semítica consideram que as mulheres estão ligeiramente mais próximas dos diabos em parentesco do que os países Cristãos e, sem dúvida, empurrarão a culpa para a menina, independentemente da sua idade.”
“Considerando o que as feministas financiadas pela SMO fizeram ao mundo com as democracias feministas controladas quase se pode fazer um argumento politicamente incorreto que se inclina para o ponto de vista muçulmano.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “A maneira como mulheres tratam os homens em seu país é inconcebível! Selvageria desenfreada.”
” Não consigo concordar com isso tudo. A natureza premia a falta de civilização nas mulheres.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles podem eleger, heroicamente, para sobreviver quando a vida não tem nada para oferecer-lhes senão a dor. A maioria dos problemas no mundo de hoje são sobre a população, inclusive o abuso feminino de homens. Por quê? A natureza coloca o número de população sob o controle das mulheres. Os sacerdotes e o estado tiraram esse controle deles e colocaram-no com os predadores. Devemos retornar o controle da população às mulheres, em todos os lugares, imediatamente. Eu não acho que sua selvageria limitada merece alguma vez a aplicação da Lei da Sharia ultra brutal. Para tal assalto, uma criança nunca poderia ser responsabilizada em uma sociedade sensata sã. Somente alguém rígido, delirante louco poderia segurar que a criança era responsável. Mas, o que quer que seja, de volta ao meu exemplo. Os países governados pela Lei da Sharia sustentariam que o homem foi vítima da mulher possuída pelo diabo e a criança poderia ser submetida à punição mais brutal que o estado Islâmico permite – apedrejamento até a morte.”
“Bárbaro!”
“Qual?”
“Ora, muçulmano, é claro.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Oh, claro.” O tolo malvado zombou. “Não podemos criticar o comportamento das sociedades ocidentais, não é ?! Mesmo assim. Aqui temos a situação idêntica. Somente a geografia é diferente. Crimes semelhantes, e cidadãos religiosos ignorantes similares têm o direito de julgar. Ambos acreditam no idêntico deus diabólico, na ideia indistintamente demente de uma vida após a morte, e existência comparável, pós-morte, em um estado similar de zumbi, etc. Com o mesmo ato, mas em locais e sombras diferentes da demência da multidão, o exatamente oposto conceito de dano e culpa emerge. Diferentes denominações de certo ou errado, exoneração ou punição, são aplicadas ao mesmo ultraje selecionado. ”
“”A ação é tudo, a glória nada.” Goethe.” O vendedor ambulante disse, como um aparte.
“Pode-se argumentar sobre os padrões de culpa, as ramificações da “Graça e Vontade de Deus”, a extensão e as cores de selvageria ambiente que existem, até que se esteja cansado demais para continuar afirmando a supremacia de um argumento sobre o interlocutor. O absurdo da sacudindo a culpa é rudimentar. Tudo o que se verifica de maneira diferente depois do julgamento, a partir do que se passou antes, é que aqueles em posições de autoridade apresentam ao mundo uma alocação adicional de sofrimento que eles perpetraram por sua usurpação. Prevenção de dissuasão e reincidência, inundada de legais, são apenas pretextos sem sentido para o sadismo base socialmente sancionado. As mudanças Inter geracionais e geográficas de valor, o status político do réu e a posse de riquezas caedere as são amplos exemplos de como os padrões são aplicados de maneira diferente sumariamente e para ofensas semelhantes. A condição humana, teme o controle da Entropia. Pode-se considerar como todos os atos de paixão são controlados por atitudes projetadas, memória genética, mudanças sutis nas concentrações de sal cerebral, comensalismo microbiano e impulsos nervosos aberrantes infinitamente pequenos. Se alguém o fizer, só pode-se comentar sobre quão injusto, imprudente e brutal é envergonhar e criticar.” Disse o tolo malvado. “Você também ficaria surpreso com o tipo de cidadão pelo qual você seleciona se a oportunidade de crescimento, você fornece, é suficientemente pequena.”
“Então, Soros, Gates, Trump, Buffet, Zuck, Rothschild, etc. são apenas seres humanos muito fracos e inseguros?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Simios.” O tolo malvado disse. “Símios inseguros: para sermos humanos, devemos ser mais do que apenas outro hominídeo. Os seres humanos precisam ter missões. E parte da definição.”
“SUA definição.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim. Minha definição.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas eu divago. Devido a sua fraqueza espantosa, esses superpredadores, você mencionou, e outros como eles sentem a necessidade de grandes quantidades de símbolos de morte – dólares, euros, Au, iates, etc, em torno de si. Faz com que eles se sintam mais seguros … provavelmente de nós. Mais inseguro um homem sente, mais sente ele ele precisa caedere riqueza. Por alguma razão, as pessoas que temem a morte também adoram a morte, e sentem a necessidade de se enterrar em símbolos de morte. Clintons, Bush, Obama, Trump, Gates e muitos outros assassinos, genocida sanguinários, com todo o dinheiro que precisarão para viver bem, dada a oportunidade, não podem parar de matar inocentes, sejam eles animais, homens, mulheres ou crianças. A riqueza de caedere fortalece a predação e a escraviza.”
“É doentio. Eu admitirei.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Mas, você não vai convencer muitas pessoas da veracidade do seu conceito.”
“Se fosse de outra forma, eu, pessoalmente, estaria devastado.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu acho que eu devo ter dito algo estúpido, e eu poderia precisar mudar minha posição rapidamente.”
“Misantropo!”
“Você acha?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Sim.”
“Eu não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se eu fosse misantropo, eu seria ambivalente sobre o futuro da Humanidade, despreocupado com a morte certa do Homo sapiens sapiens. Contrariamente ao dogma religioso e à justificação da Lei Escrita, as pessoas não escolhem fazer coisas negativas porque são depravadas. O que quer que eles façam, eles fazem porque Entropia o ordena. As demandas de desordem e a fraqueza nos controlam. ”
“Isso não é um oximoro. . .desordem demanda . . . controla?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Outro paradoxo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Entropia e Natureza são os árbitros finais sobre se nossas ações, direcionadas e obrigatórias, resultam em positivo ou negativo para o protoplasma. Eles lutam para fora, e Entropia usa nossa paixão para fins desapaixonados.”
“Então, na melhor das hipóteses, nunca seremos mais do que o brinquedo da termodinâmica, a presa da Entropia?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim. Todos vagueamos no escuro.” O tolo malvado disse. “Às vezes nós batemos em coisas e nos machucamos. Estamos todos feridos e sofrendo desesperadamente. A vida é geralmente infernal, e nós criaturas fazemos o melhor que podemos para fazê-lo menos. Sob essa pressão, porém, muitas vezes cometemos erros. Isso não nos torna moralmente mal, mais do que a força biológica nos torna santos.”
“Você não está dizendo que não devemos julgar.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Você está dizendo que nós não podemos julgar?”
“Eu estou dizendo os dois.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Nós não devemos anseio de julgar, porque não podemos. É fútil, ilegítimo, uma usurpação, e negativo. Nenhuma maneira existe para que possamos efetivamente julgar alguém na condição humana. Nós não temos a capacidade. Nossas inúteis tentativas de fazê-lo não fazem mais do que aumentar a dor e o sofrimento. O que podemos fazer é dirigir a atenção dos outros para fraquezas observáveis nos supostos malfeitores e tomar precauções de sobrevivência de proximidade “.
“Essas precauções são como podemos ordenar a nossa sociedade?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim. Mas, diferentemente de como o fazemos hoje, santificando a predação e punição. Devemos nos conformar aos princípios naturais.” O tolo malvado disse. “O parasitismo ocorre em todas as espécies. É uma resposta a alguma fraqueza biológica inerente. O organismo parasítico não pode sobreviver por conta própria, e busca seu sustento de outras formas de vida. A natureza o permite. Mas, Ela só abençoa predação interespécies, não intraespécies. Apenas nossa espécie se envolve no parasitismo intraespécies como uma estratégia pervertida para a sobrevivência, e o detrimento do hospedeiro é, como é todo parasitismo.”
“Uma doença?”
“Um pouco.” O tolo malvado disse. “”Os predadores representam uma doença autoimune que aflige a humanidade, e como asma, lúpus, esclerose múltipla ou glomerulonefrite, pode matar-nos. Se um parasita humano, um superpredador, for encontrado, deve ser apreendido. Deveria repudiar para sempre a morte-adoração e perseguição ilimitada obscena da riqueza do caedere.”
“Você está falando reeducação.” O vendedor ambulante zombou. “Você é um commie?”
“Reabilitação.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Impossível de implementar.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Parece que as práticas de quadros de reeducação de Mao, para mim.”
“Semântica! Como chamar alguém louco.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “É tão frustrante ver como a linguagem divide a humanidade e impede uma ação positiva concertada. Mao era um acólito do que eu estou propondo. Ele queria destruir a livre iniciativa, empurrando sua marca de Capital-comunismo. Estou supondo estratégias que podem salvar a raça humana da extinção! Centenas de vezes mais difícil de fazer. O predador deve ter todas as chances de reformar seu comportamento.”
“E se não puder?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
Se, com base em evidência esmagadora, o parasita demonstra que nunca pode se tornar forte o suficiente para ser um custodiante. . .” O tolo malvado disse.
“E como vai fazer isso?” “O vendedor ambulante interrompeu.
“Se um predador não pode demonstrar uma renúncia à busca caedere conduzida para sempre. . “O tolo malvado disse.
“E, se não pode ou não vai se abster?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Então a comunidade deve separar o predador de seu comportamento.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Eles devem eutanasiar-lo. A natureza enviará o espírito de volta de onde veio.”
“Isso não é autodefesa.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim, é isso. Definitivamente é!” O tolo malvado disse.
“É julgamento e punição.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“É autodefesa.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Essas alternativas, você acabou de mencionar, são inaceitáveis para um povo civilizado.”
“A maioria pensaria em levar uma vida humana, assim, não seria autodefesa, mas criminal pena de morte.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“O problema vem em definir a autodefesa.” O tolo malvado disse. “Onde desenhar a linha é a questão. A definição atual de inteligência está incorreta. Qualquer definição de inteligência que não leva em consideração a biossegurança é errada. Tudo o que nós, como espécie, conseguimos tecnicamente foi alcançado nos últimos 3000 anos de nossa existência de 50, 000 (+/-). As espécies extraterrestres “inteligentes” provavelmente ganharam superioridade tecnológica em seus próprios planetas. Eles talvez tenham chegado ao mesmo estado de evolução que nós. Eles ficaram tão poderosos, enquanto arrogavam algo semelhante aos nossos limites “morais” dementado, que eles também esqueceram seu “propósito”. Eles poderiam muito possivelmente ter destruído a biosfera de seus respectivos planetas, já que temos a intenção de fazer o nosso. Fim de sua história, final da nossa.”
“Você está esquecendo o corolário usual para o problema.” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“O que?”
“O apreendeu tem ou pode controlar muito caedere riqueza, e os apreendedores aplicáveis vai querer ter um pouco disso.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Ofertas de seus parasitas para compartilhar quantidades minúsculas com seus apreendedores irão invariavelmente resultar em impunidade para os parasitas. É uma das razões que você deu por que a Lei Escrita é anátema. Eu ofereço o sistema legal de hoje como uma prova ampla. Vou mostrar-lhe quantas pessoas pobres estão na prisão por delitos capitais. Então, você me mostra quantos top banqueiros, políticos ou figuras esportivas estão apodrecendo na prisão por suas semelhante ofensas capitais.”
“Há alguns.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Somente aqueles que também chatearam a superestrutura de poder de alguma forma, de modo que a fraternidade de infinitamente vasta riqueza de caedere, de modo inusitado, desejava agir do lado da Lei.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Estou ciente de muitos dos problemas que haverá em alcançar a minha nova civilização.” O tolo malvado disse. “O que você acabou de dizer sobre a impunidade dos ricos caedere me faz pensar sobre outro problema sério que podemos enfrentar se o status quo continuar por muito mais tempo.”
“O que é isso?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
A impunidade dos ricos caedere lhes permite viver vidas muito mais confortáveis do que os pobres desconfortáveis.” O tolo malvado disse. “Há pouco desacordo sobre isso. A quantidade de caedere riqueza que os superpredadores possuem é efetivamente infinita. Os pobres pagam pelo luxo dos ricos. Os ricos nem mesmo precisam tocar o seu dinheiro, por assim dizer. Apenas seu interesse é suficiente para roubar e assassinar os pobres. Os superpredadores desfrutam os frutos roubados da predação, não experienciando nem sanção nem castigo. A queixa é rapidamente sufocada. Eles não precisam pagar tributo como impostos para o estado, tampouco, como os pobres fazem. Em um futuro próximo, os caedere ricos certamente irão tomar células-tronco de bebês abortados dos homens pobres no interesse de prolongar a vida dos ricos caedere. Ao longo do tempo tal comportamento resultará em centenas, senão em milhares de anos extras para os ricos, bilhões menos para os pobres, e uma humanidade que perde sua vontade biológica de continuar.”
“Precisamos continuar tentando melhorar a nossa sociedade.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Possivelmente. Se soubéssemos o que era “melhor”.” O tolo malvado corrigiu. “Nós definitivamente precisaremos lutar contra a caedere rica e continuar tentando tornar nossa espécie mais forte. Mas, se não descobrimos uma maneira de limitar nossa população, enquanto ainda ajudando crescimento suficiente para não expirar, a nossa força recém-encontrados não servirá para nada.
“Assim. Gyorgy Schwartz deveria ser apreendido, não julgado?” O vendedor ambulante disse, voltando a um ponto anterior na conversa.
“Sim.”
“Ele é velho demais para esperar reabilitação e não se pode confiar em predação repudiar, por isso.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Pelo que ele é, o Sr. Soros parece estar marchando perfeitamente em sintonia com sua natureza.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Eu ouvi o que você está dizendo.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Não há nenhum mecanismo na mão para apreender e “reabilitá-lo”.”
“Não existe,,, ainda.” O tolo malvado concordou, e continuou. “Não somos a primeira espécie a enfrentar este problema. Como eu vejo, depois a grande explosão, Entropia trouxe um mundo à existência. Civilizações evoluíram. Pelo menos, duas dessas civilizações, sem dúvida, encontraram-se com inimigos, então eles desenvolveram alguma ciência e logo foram capazes de criar simulações. Nós, sem dúvida, também chegamos como um produto da evolução, impregnação extraterrestre, ou como uma simulação a jusante dessas civilizações anteriores. A possível simulação que nos trouxe aqui foi por design, ou como um programa que deu errado, corrompido, ou tornou-se negligenciado na distopia presente. É tudo apenas conjectura neste ponto. As pessoas sabem instintivamente que estão aqui para sofrer ao capricho de algum programador, mesmo que seja apenas o ácido desoxirribonucleico da Natureza. Como ratos enjaulados, sujando sua água ou gaiolas, inconscientemente tentando cometer suicídio, assim são os símios. A maioria dos símios também tenta cometer suicídio secreto, inventando maneiras criativas de evitar o ato flagrante real, desde que o suicídio fácil foi programado constitutivamente fora da maioria dos animais. Os médicos ajudam e predatoriamente jogam nas mãos os programadores, ajudando com a tortura, mas não permitindo uma morte fácil. Não consigo me ver melhor. Eu também sou um sicofanta do programador demente.”
“Por quê?”

Capítulo Dez
“”Não obstante as chances menos viáveis de fazê-lo, com minha crescente cegueira, estou tentando salvar a criação, sabendo que estarei prolongando o sofrimento.” O tolo malvado disse. “Na minha defesa, espero para jogar Deus e ajudar os outros na remoção de muitos atormentados antes que eles causam mais sofrimento, ou experiência mais sofrimento. Eu também tentarei aliviar o sofrimento para os outros sem a típica predação médica e legal. Nunca desistirei de tentar erguer as Pontes do Grande Pontibus. Sem essas circunstâncias atenuantes, no entanto, não posso dizer que sou menos merecedor da eutanásia do que um médico, advogado, político, ou banqueiro predatório.”
“Muitos diriam infinitamente mais, de qualquer maneira.” O vendedor ambulante acrescentou.
“Eu tenho certeza que a maioria faria.” O tolo malvado disse. ” Mas isso é uma questão secundária. Em suas viagens vendendo, eu sei que você viu galinhas e porcos nas fazendas locais. Quando eles encontram um pedaço de alimento possível que é muito grande para engolir, rapidamente, eles gritam e correm. Isso atrai a atenção de todos os outros animais. Os sem comidas muitos ver o que ocorreu e perseguir o gritando ganancioso. Mark Zuck, Bill Gates, George Soros, etc. são exatamente como aqueles gritando animais no quintal. Olhe para Gates, Zuck e Soros. Todos são evidências claras de hereditariedade selvagem que deu errado, ganância pura e não mitigado e sem propósito. Como eles não são humanos, eles não têm qualquer ideia humana do que está acontecendo com eles. Eles são tão inseguros e fracos, tudo o que podem fazer é incessantemente mal apropriar-se e gritar sobre seus ganhos mal adquiridos para o mundo para a diversão dos programadores dementado, tenho certeza. Todos nós servimos, mas como brinquedos & escravos, entidades vicárias, destinados a sofrer para diversão do programador ou para satisfazer a sua vingança. Talvez, ofendamos de alguma forma e estamos fazendo uma sentença de punição. Talvez, servimos como animais pequenos como aqueles que os pais compram em feriados para os seus filhos, para que as crianças podem torturá-los à morte. Ou o programador não sabe nem se preocupa com o sofrimento que seu trabalho está causando; ou é tão dementado como um rabino sádico kosher que só quer punir e torturar criaturas mais fracas. De qualquer forma, nós também punimos, futilmente. Nós punimos do medo impotente de predação, ou a separação da Terra, ou o nosso desaparecimento, ou porque queremos imitar nossos criadores de programação demente. A maioria dos predadores não recorre a suas próprias espécies antes de se tornarem traidores. Isso acontece, mas geralmente ocorre como resultado de uma perversão biológica. A maioria dos predadores se torna essa saída de uma necessidade de aceitação social e aclamação. As suas aparições em spots na mídia são testemunhos disso. Eles estão buscando eternamente a exaltação, adoração e emulação. Eles sabem que, para o ser humano médio, a posse de riquezas caedere é facilmente confundida com inteligência, sorte divina e valor humano. O predador sabe que uma quantidade desmedida de símbolos de riqueza caedere certamente irá ganhar para eles a estimativa de valor, amor humano e segurança que eles anseiam.”
“Eles querem o amor e a admiração das mesmas pessoas sobre quem eles caçam!” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Estou errado?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Não.”
“O predador humano atinge um ponto, de forma análoga à tolerância a narcóticos, quando a desejo de busca da riqueza caedere como um meio para ganhar status, amor e segurança se torna a perseguição por causa da perseguição. O meio se torna o fim, e o fim se torna o meio. Caedere fracos desenvolver uma tolerância para o dinheiro, tanto quanto qualquer viciado desenvolve uma tolerância para a sua própria droga de escolha. Quando isso acontece, a personalidade desaparece. A pessoa já não possui caedere riqueza, porque o proprietário não é mais humano. Apesar da fachada, como um tipo especial de múmia, a “essência” humana morreu ou entrou em animação suspensa.” O tolo malvado explicou.
“A riqueza de caedere, ou a possessão de fato dela, suplanta a essência ou o espírito humano?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Eu acredito que é algo assim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Um abismo abre no viciado dinheiro, onde a missão de o ser humano costumava ser, e caedere riqueza, como formaldeído e outros materiais de embalsarão de mumificação, entra nesse vácuo. Caedere riqueza agora possui o predador. Um homem de fins torna-se um homem de meios. As coisas mortas e seus símbolos usurpa a posição anterior da essência humana, ou uma tentativa é feita para fazer assim, a medida que a essência humana desaparece. O parasitismo para o bem-estar do parasitismo torna-se uma realidade, e a pessoa na verdade muda de espécie. Ser um parasita em seres humanos é essencialmente uma degeneração, um desarranjo mental, um retro evolução. Psicólogos chamam isso de psicopatia. O predador torna-se, em todos os aspectos práticos, uma forma inferior de mamífero – como um porco selvagem – com toda a volição que existe em um tíquete sugando sangue ou sanguessuga. Entropia mandates ele 100%. ”
“Eles não podem se ajudar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Oh, eles podem, e eles fazem, ajudando-se a qualquer que eles querem.” O tolo malvado disse. “Superpredadores prosseguir caedere riqueza com grande entusiasmo. Eles estão se revolvendo para sempre na lama figurativa, sonhando em ser humanos mais uma vez. Esse entusiasmo geralmente funciona para obter todas as indicações daquilo para o qual eles anseiam, mas nada da realidade. Eles se tornam tantos sacos glorificados de carne como os desvios genéticos.”
“Eu quis dizer . . . ” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eu sei o que você quis dizer.” O tolo malvado disse. “Você quis dizer que eles não podem se controlar. Ajudar-se a as outras partes também não é considerado controle normalmente.”
“Se reabilitados, eles poderiam sem dúvida executar perto de milagres para custódia.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eles podiam.” O tolo malvado disse. “Custodiantes encarregados de reabilitam predadores devem mostrar ao predador que não precisa sofrer por sua mudança de foco. Os predadores devem ver como eles podem alcançar a admiração que desejam através do caminho biosustentável, tal como o receberam enquanto perseguiam o caminho parasitário. Eles devem ver que o caminho biosustentável lhes permitirá recuperar a essência perdida, ao contrário de tolerar a indiferença insensível a ela que eles desfrutaram durante os últimos estágios do vício da caedere. Infelizmente, localizar e reinserir uma essência humana perdida em um porco selvagem não é uma tarefa fácil. ”
“É uma interpretação completamente nova para a “bolsa de seda” da orelha de uma porca “máxima”. O vendedor ambulante acrescentou com uma risada cínica.
“Nós existimos em um sistema aberto.” O tolo malvado disse, quando o vendedor ambulante deixou de rir. “Mas, devido à nossa incapacidade de deixar o planeta facilmente, nós existimos em um sistema fechado de fato, um enorme Oceano de Entropia. A natureza estocástica dessa existência fechada nos aprisiona. Embora inevitavelmente traga cada um de nós em uma condição descentralizada de cada vez mais caos e desordem, uma democracia perfeita, nossa taxa de natalidade estabelece uma fina pátina de ordem sobre aquele Mar de Entropia. À medida que o planeta fica mais quente, o Mar de Entropia, no qual flutuamos, torna-se cada vez mais turbulento. Não pode continuar assim por muito tempo sem uma eventual explosão. Venha o que acontecer, a Entropia dita todos os nossos movimentos. ”
“Em um nível místico mais “Entropia-é-Deus”, podemos nos elevar acima dela?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Podemos subir acima dela.” O tolo malvado respondeu.
“Podemos “ousar o domínio da alma”, Amelia Earhardt?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim, aceitando uma missão e tornando-se verdadeiramente humano.” O tolo malvado respondeu.
“Sonhando?”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “A maioria da vida começa bem o suficiente, mas geralmente termina mal e sempre tragicamente. Por que não aceitar uma vida de aspiração? O que uma vida sem missão, ditada apenas pela Entropia, tem que oferecer-nos apenas um conjunto de rebaixamento em série? ”
“Sobrevivência?”
“Isso é tudo que você quer, a vida mundana de um esquilo ou um coelho?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Qualquer vida batida a alternativa.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Discordo. Somos capazes de mais.” O tolo malvado disse. “A vida humana missionada e sem missão começa igual. Nós dois somos empurrados para a aparência de um mundo frio congelante através da abertura mais sobrevalorizada na história do homem, um orifício cheirando de peixe podre. Vida culmina com a derradeira humilhação de ter de suportar uma putrefação escondida de todo o mundo. Ele, supostamente, realmente não termina mesmo lá! Se você é da fé Cristã, Judaica ou Islâmica, você ainda tem que fazer o seu zumbi vida, ou seja, voar em torno de um desonesto, injusto, sádico, canibalesco, imensamente ciumento, controle loco – para sempre. Você deve genuflectir a cada segundo, como um vivo não-zumbi, para aquele insano, demônio amoral imaginário, ou esperar com expectativa para sentença para desfrutar de uma queima eterna no inferno zumbi. Sem uma missão, mesmo um cão tem melhores perspectivas.”
“A única maneira que podemos superar o papel da Entropia para nós, por um tempo, é com uma aspiração?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim. Creio que devemos de fato desafiar a província de nossa essência.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Você tem um exemplo?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Como a história vai, Abraão, um armário demente canibal, era um animal de estimação do demônio, Jeová – Ala. Jesus e Maomé eram supostamente sicofantas do dono de Abraão – o suplente do Diabo – Jeová-Ala. Zumbi Jesus é alegado também ter sido filho bastardo de Jeová. A dupla de Maria eram prostitutas de Jeová. A partir dessas fraquezas, emergiram forças admiráveis. Meter-se em outros aspectos destes paragonas da humanidade legendária salaz era algo especial. ”
“Suas fraquezas humanas encontraram contrapeso em missões?” Adivinhado o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim. Aparentemente, Jesus fez a sua missão de criar um sistema que transformasse o mundo em uma morada mais justa e suave do que era anteriormente. Ele elevou a luxúria animal à categoria de “amor” e reduziu os crimes sexuais a delitos menores. “O tolo malvado disse.
“Levou dois cristãos modernos dois milênios para reverter completamente a tendência que ele começou.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Não é verdade?” Disse o tolo malvado. ” Maomé fez uma mudança igualmente significativa ao escolher como sua missão a destruição de Cristãos e Judeus. Ele, felizmente, diminuiu algumas das pragas que acabaram por se tornar uma praga Cristã. Infelizmente, seus seguidores perderam de vista sua missão. Eles permitiram que a Entropia os ajudasse a substituir a sua própria marca de inferno místico estatista. ”
“Você, obviamente, não é fã da Lei da Sharia?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Eu não sou um aficionado de QUALQUER Lei.” O tolo malvado disse. “Aceito Lei Natural. Com Entropy, é sempre consistente, nunca faz exceções contraditórias. Não tenho escolha senão aceitá-lo.”
“Estou começando a ver isso.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Os outros descendentes de Abraão, também em grande parte Judeus e Árabes Muçulmanos, não tinham conceito de missão. Eles fizeram alguns shekels, esperando seu tempo, capturando e distribuindo escravos. Esses Sêmites da vela deram ao mundo mão-de-obra barata e mais.”
“O que é mais?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Praticamente todos os negros Africanos indigenou têm uma lacuna de inteligência de um ou dois desvios padrão inferiores aos não-Africanos. Se alguém pressupõe que a inteligência auxilie um símio na busca de uma missão, esses Semitas nao-missionados podem, por acaso, ter sido responsáveis por um complemento de DNA humano mais generalizado no gênero Homo. Por sua humanidade, conquistada através da miscigenação devido ao advento dessa escravidão, a maioria dos negros no Oeste de hoje pode agradecer os Sêmites salientes. “O tolo malvado disse.
“”A sombra da roupa do sol abrasador.” Shakespeare.” Disse o vendedor ambulante citado.
“Dentro daquelas escravas negras, as “roupas sombreadas” foram genes de Neandertal, tornando algumas os descendentes seres humanos – Homo sapiens sapiens.” O tolo malvado disse.
“O mundo não é um lugar mais bondoso e mais sustentável por causa de Abraão.” O vendedor ambulante observou.
“Não. Esse esquizofrênico urubu não tinha missão. “O tolo malvado disse. “Seu tempo foi gasto conversando e obedecendo, seu imaginário amigo canibal no céu. O tempo dirá quanta mudança mais negativa esses adoradores da morte, sem propósito, nos trazem através de suas fraquezas surpreendentes. Em grande parte, devido ao culto atual de seu obsceno livro religioso, “Santa Bíblia”, e as profecias malévolas ou pré-histórias reais nele contidas, uma guerra termonuclear está no nosso horizonte. ”
“Mas, eles não são pessoas más, apenas fracos.” O vendedor ambulante zombou.
“Você “sentar-se no banco de escarnecedores” e desprezo, eu posso dizer. Mas, as fraquezas são a causa raiz da predação humana, caprichosamente referida por alguns como “crime”.” O tolo malvado disse.
“O que você acha que é crime?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“O crime pode ser definido praticamente como um comportamento ou um conjunto de comportamentos não apreciados ostensivamente de forma positiva pela população em geral.” O tolo malvado disse. “A palavra “crime” é escolhida, infelizmente, portanto, para descrever a predação humana, bem como cripta-magnanimidade humana. Como tal, é um oximoro. Os verdadeiros imbecis buscam punir seus praticantes. Grandes cientistas e alguns escritores são muitas vezes considerados criminosos. Médicos, advogados, políticos, banqueiros, sacerdotes, guardas, compassivos, vadios, etc. são predadores humanos, mas geralmente não são considerados criminosos, exceto por mim.”
“O que é um urubu de compaixão?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Um abutre de compaixão é carniça de símia vivo e símia-tipos que se alimentam de inadaptados biológicos.” O tolo malvado disse. “A besta tira seu sustento também sugando o sangue das pessoas que não podem controlar seu senso de culpa e aqueles que compadecem desajustes biológicos incontrolavelmente. Geralmente eles podem ser encontrados como sob o pretexto de cuidadores das anomalias.”
“Entendo.” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “Médicos e enfermeiras.”
“Entre muitos outros predadores não mencionados,” disse o tolo malvado.
“Pessoas compassivas.” O vendedor ambulante bufou.
“Extraviado compaixão & pervertido amor.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Mas, seu desprezo está mostrando.”
“Você poderia dizer?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim. Não foi uma façanha tentadora. “O tolo malvado respondeu, e continuou. “Como eu estava dizendo, todos os originadores realizados, isto é, inventores, escritoras e cientistas, são preconceitos e criminosos, mas não necessariamente predadores, nem são designados pelos hoi polloi como malandros. Para ter se destacado na sua disciplina escolhida a maioria grandes cientistas devem ser com missão, tendo nadou rio acima enquanto todo mundo estava indo com o fluxo, a jusante. Isso torna os cientistas criminosos – não predatórios. Alguns criminosos são de fato verdadeiros predadores humanos e nem sempre são recompensados pela sociedade da mesma maneira que a maioria dos predadores e / ou o criminoso inventor-cientista. O que os “grandes não lavados” chamam tão amorosamente de “comportamento criminoso” é invariavelmente apenas uma manifestação de fraqueza relativamente maior ou comportamento mais variegada do que aquilo que eles atribuem a si mesmos.”
“Ou comportamento para o qual eles ainda não foram acusados.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eu tenho certeza.” O tolo malvado concordou, sorrindo. “Mas, deixe-me contar uma história. Há muito tempo, conheci um piloto alcoólatra que fez algum tempo de prisão. Ele era inteligente, um ambientalista como nós e um cara bem informado. Uma vez, enquanto ele estava bêbado, ele fez um desembarque forte, mutilando seu passageiro durante o curso do avião finalmente chegando a descansar. O passageiro era seu único filho. O meu conhecimento foi processado, e ele recebeu uma longa sentença. Ele finalmente perdeu tudo, sua licença de piloto, seu avião, seu dinheiro, sua casa, sua família e seu bem-estar geral. Seu alcoolismo nunca parou. As perdas materiais eram suportáveis para ele. O que ele não podia viver era o que ele havia feito com seu filho. Ele disse que era um pesadelo eterno de onde não havia despertar. Era algo com o qual ele não podia viver. O suicídio apareceu a única maneira de diminuir sua dor. Antes de se matar, ele me pediu para escrever uma carta a Deus por ele. Ele disse que sua mão trêmula era muito instável. Mas era mais do que isso. Ele divagava muito, muitas vezes era incoerente e não segurava um consenso constante. Ele sabia que a carta seria ininteligível, se ele escreveu, e ele queria que fosse legível e enterrado com ele. Então, eu coloquei seus pensamentos no meu computador. Mais tarde, eu editei e reescrevê-lo, organizando seus pensamentos gramaticalmente corretos para Deus. Isso me deixou uma cópia. Quando ele leu, ele me disse que era exatamente o que ele queria dizer. Você gostaria de lê-lo? ”
“Eu não leio o inglês bem.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Isso não é problema.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu vou pegar e lê-lo para você.”
“OK.”
O tolo malvado deixou alguns instantes e foi até a pousada. Ele imprimiu a carta e retornou rapidamente, dizendo. “Esta é a carta que ele levou para a eternidade com ele.” (E ele começou a lê-lo.)
Querido Deus:
Se esta carta encontrar o seu caminho para você, significa que você existe. Isso poderia ter respondido uma grande questão na minha mente, mas isso não significa nada para mim agora. Tanto faz. Embora sua Criação seja muito bonita para descrever, sua magnificência é gravemente falha, e eu acho que você deve conhecê-la. Parece que você não está ciente da situação. Você nunca fez parecer que existe algum propósito para nós aqui. Eu, portanto, só tive que assumir que você criou todo esse maravilhoso universo e você gostou e queria protegê-lo. Se eu supusesse errado, e você se importou pouco ou desejou destruir a Criação, algo foi terrivelmente errado. Presumi que minha função era proteger, então eu tentei fazer isso e servi o mundo em que vivi. Eu finalmente descobri que você parecia apenas recompensar os destruidores de sua Criação.
O que também é tão difícil de entender é por que você nos tornou todos defeituosos. Cada um de nós tem algum macaco especial em nossas costas individuais, prejudicando a força total de qualquer propósito positivo. É um mistério para mim porque você fez isso. O que é especialmente odioso é que temos a capacidade de mentir para nós mesmos quando a pressão para a conduta depravada se torna muito forte, mais do que podemos suportar, tornando impossível resistir. Na verdade, podemos justificar e, assim, convencer-nos da retidão de nosso comportamento proibido. Claro, imediatamente após as nossas faltas, os fundamentos de nossas prevaricações injustificáveis se dissolvem e desmoronam. Estamos perdidos. A sociedade mantém inclinações naturais incontroláveis como depravações e fraquezas tabu. Nossos vizinhos, consequentemente, se vingam de nós por essas transgressões, além da vingança que assumimos sobre nós mesmos. Nós nunca deixamos de nos punir por nossos erros e nossa incapacidade de controla fraqueza pessoal. A dor incrível e implacável mental, física e espiritual nunca diminui, nem de dia nem de noite. Você, obviamente, não consegue saber o ônus do desespero, é preciso suportar apenas para sobreviver para o senhor. Como nosso Criador, você é o responsável por nossos erros e nossa miséria. Fazendo-nos sentir-se responsável por suas ações ou a incompetência é também na sua conta, e é criminal!
Eu não entendo. Você é um demônio monstruoso? Você nos fez com essas fraquezas infalíveis quase infalíveis para nos observar se contorcendo e se contorcendo com elas? Controlar esse macaco parece possível para alguns, mas quase impossível para os outros, aumentando a dor dos mais fracos e mais susceptíveis. Certamente, parece ser um grande impedimento para quaisquer objetivos positivos que você possa ter, ou pelo menos uma grande ineficiência. Estou errado? Eu acho que não. Eu acredito que o único motivo para instalar tal fraqueza em nós é a falta de coração impiedoso? Você é um bastardo psicótico e sádico, e você tem prazer em nos fazer sofrer incrivelmente de frustração, medo, arrependimentos, desesperança e punição? Você gosta de assistir nossa agonia palpitante, enquanto lutamos e discutimos? Por quê?! Você já se fez essa pergunta? Você deve, e talvez, para o melhoramento de todos, você pode considerar seriamente o suicídio.”
O tolo malvado parou de ler e colocou a carta na mesa, sem dizer nada. Depois de alguns segundos, olhou para o vendedor ambulante, fazendo contato visual. A linguagem corporal teve seu efeito, e o vendedor ambulante ficou desconfortável o suficiente para falar, embora em um tópico não relacionado.
“A fraqueza torna as pessoas predadoras?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante, como se a carta não tivesse efeito sobre ele.
“Sim. Mas antes de entrar nisso eu quero abordar algumas das razões, eu acho que existem, para sua escolha de palavras dizendo e suas óbvias opiniões negativas e desprezo. “O tolo malvado disse.
“Ahh. Você disse que você notou. “O vendedor ambulante zombou. “Eu me declaro culpado.”
O tolo malvado respondeu. “Você é da opinião, como muitos símios, de que a compaixão é um sentimento no qual uma pessoa civilizada apropriada deve se entregar completamente quando for sentida”.
“Está certo. Qualquer ser sensível deve sentir-se da mesma forma.” O vendedor ambulante disse, com autojustiça.
“Eu discordo.” O tolo malvado disse. “É em grande parte uma atitude deliberadamente cega, e uma atitude geralmente realizada por pessoas ignorantes e covardes.”
“Você está tentando se livrar de mim?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Não digo nada se você permanecer ou sair.”

Capítulo Onze

A atmosfera em torno da pequena mesa ficou instantaneamente mais fria e ficou assim por alguns segundos. Nem o homem queria dizer nada. Nem sabia como responder à situação embaraçosa. Finalmente, o vendedor ambulante não poderia mais demitir o silêncio e dizer. “Sentir compaixão é ignorante e covarde?!”
“Normalmente, o sentimento é mantido por pessoas voluntariamente cegas.” O tolo malvado disse. “As
pessoas são intencionalmente cegas porque são covardes, muito temerosas para enfrentar a realidade de frente.”
“Você realmente está tentando me fazer sair!?” O vendedor ambulante acuso e levantou-se.
“Eu estava tentando lhe ensinar algo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Você parecia não gostar da minha escolha de palavras.”
“Eu não gostei de suas ideias.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “As palavras que você escolheu foram apenas embelezamento.”
“Não quero incomodá-la ou desperdiçar sua energia, como você estava fazendo comigo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Lembre-se, entretanto, eu não deixei por causa de sua escolha de palavras, tão desagradável como alguns foram. Talvez porque você está comprando a cerveja. Mas, se você se sentir parcimonioso, está tudo bem. Sair.”
O vendedor ambulante, apesar de sua raiva, não saiu. Ele sentou-se de novo diante da cerveja e ardia, silenciosamente, enquanto o tolo malvado continuava. “Eu acho que o estado de espírito, opinião ou atitude que você manifesta particularmente odioso quando é mantido por pessoas educadas. Felizmente, isso não se aplica neste caso.”
O vendedor ambulante não respondeu, de voz, aos insultos repetitivo, mas o tolo malvado esperou por alguns segundos antes de continuar. “Trabalhando americanos pagam mais de 10 meses, anualmente, de seus salários anuais em tributo como impostos para a SSA. A SSA usa esse dinheiro para comprar armas da Rothschild e dos grandes banqueiros para controlar o mundo inteiro. A brutalidade com que tiraram as liberdades civis das pessoas é nada menos que milagrosa, é tão terrível. Eles criam fantoches e ditadores políticos e os destroem sempre que esses arlequins agradam pouco ou não agradam aos banqueiros. Os políticos de Rothschild impõem toques de recolher e espalham propaganda mentirosa. Se você não aceita a tirania e a escravidão, os políticos enviam esquadrões da morte depois de você e torturam você e sua família. As pessoas sofrem e morrem de doenças e fome ou simplesmente desaparecem. As pessoas simplesmente desaparecem. Vigilância é de 24 horas e ocorre praticamente em toda parte. Eles atacam a resistência com zangões e pequenos mísseis que matam, queimam e mutilam homens, mulheres e crianças inocentes. Eles bombardeiam com aviões, artilharia e morteiros. Soldados despreocupados, autômatos com armas pequenas, massacram e causam genocídios. Atrocidades Americanos, aprendidas em casa pelos Americanos são esquecidas pelos Americanos antes do próximo programa de TV. Cada 15 de abril mais fundos chegam para colocar milhares de pessoas inocentes em detenção e intimidar populações inteiras. Os maiores países terroristas do mundo, SSA e Israel, incessantemente roubam e matam com suas guerras e guerras por procuração. Qual possível perigo crianças inocentes e mulheres presentes aos Judeus e seus apologistas em Washington? Eles não. Esses demônios torturam, queimam, e matam pela ganância caedere, nada mais. A realidade de quanto os cidadãos da SEA são responsáveis por esses criminosos em Washington e Israel nunca parece fazer uma impressão sobre os cidadãos da SSA. Há alguma indicação de que um pouco as pessoas estão acordando lá, no entanto, e isso não passou despercebido pelos superpredadores. Os demônios apertaram os parafusos na censura até o ponto em que a verdade é virtualmente tão escassa como a Vida no zero absoluto.”
“Um dia, os cidadãos da SSA pagarão por sua ignorância intencional.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Tenho certeza.” Disse o tolo malvado. “Os contribuintes americanos são cúmplices no assassinato de cidadãos de países ao redor do mundo todos os dias, enquanto os bandidos da SSA roubam ativos públicos. Se alguém fala, expondo esses crimes, o Google, o Facebook e o Yahoo puni-los e censurá-los. Quando o mundo aprende como os contribuintes da SSA estão apoiando esses caedere malandros, e o mundo também adquire a vontade de buscar vingança, haverá um inferno para pagar. O mundo unira-se contra a SSA e Israel, como ocorreu com a Alemanha. E, como fez na Alemanha, o mundo não discriminará políticos, banqueiros e cidadãos, como todos são igualmente culpados como acessórios a crimes contra a humanidade. Talvez, quando a SSA e Israel não estiverem mais, os braços e material de guerra de Rothschild não queimarão e mutilarão as pessoas inocente todos os anos, mas duvido. Como aprendemos em Nuremberg, os superpredadores não ficam censurada. A aliança do caedere forte cresce cada vez mais forte. Como tem durante séculos, continua crescendo gradualmente cada vez mais controlando o caedere fraco. Não há muito tempo. Os ricos de caedere estão planejando em matar eventualmente todos os símios, indiscriminadamente, seres humanos incluídos. Durante décadas, a Monsanto e as coortes estão envenenando voluntariamente e licenciosamente nossa comida e água. Em todo o mundo, as contagens de esperma estão caindo. Fluoreto e PCB estão em nossa água e ar em todos os lugares. A Monsanto terá em breve o monopólio de praticamente todos os alimentos. Onde você acha que isso está liderando?”
“Não parece bom, mas acho que o povo Norte-Americano nem sequer sabe que as atrocidades que cometeu são feitas pelas ordens de Rothschild.” O vendedor ambulante disse, de modo sombrio.
“Eles sabem, ou DEVEM saber!” O tolo malvado respondeu. “O assassinato e a tortura de inocentes, sem levar em conta o status humano, continuam sem parar.”
“Oh. Isso é realmente prático.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Agora, antes do desdobramento ou engajamento do inimigo, os combatentes devem selecionar para inimigos apenas aqueles sem posse da missão como possíveis alvos !?”
“Você tem uma ideia melhor que minimiza a morte colateral?” Perguntou o tolo malvado. “A maioria das guerras são iniciadas por mulheres e homens idosos, processados por jovens por prazer, financiados pelos Khazars e pagos por crianças. Em troca das migalhas de conforto da criatura, toda a cidadania da ZSA ajuda os banqueiros, políticos e mercenários a cobrir seus bolsos com ouro saqueado e riqueza caedere. Esses escravos ZSA compassivos têm o luxo de sentir gratidão ilimitada por uma aberração genética de sofrimento sem esperança que poderia ter sido descartada, sem dor, ao nascer. Esse é apenas o primeiro aspecto da travessura da compaixão. Mas, então, eles não têm absolutamente nenhum sentimento para as centenas de milhares de crianças assassinadas que podem ter um dia tornando-se seres humanos normais. Eles morrem de fome, queimam e explodem essas crianças em pedaços com sua genuflexão, impostos e crença na democracia da máfia. É absolutamente inconcebível! O Direito Comum Inglês diz que um acessório é tão culpado quanto os princípios de um crime. Existe um propósito comum na agressão do governo dos Estados Unidos – mens rea, actus reus. Todos conhecem o problema e a situação. Eles compartilham seus benefícios e pagam tributo (imposto) ao principal perpetrador. Eles são todos os acessórios antes e depois do fato, culpados de crimes de guerra no Iraque, Líbia, Síria, Iêmen, Afeganistão, Sudão, Somália, etc., etc. Não há quantidade de tut-tutting, dedo-a pontando e piedoso sobre forjado O empurrão de pulso na tela de vídeo lavará esse sangue das mãos. Pagar impostos a um país terrorista é um crime contra a humanidade. O ZSA é uma nação de criminosos de guerra, cada cidadão único! A mais básica das regras da Natureza, “uma espécie permite que seus inadaptados morram e faz tudo o que pode para nutrir sua prole saudável”, eles quebram todos os dias. A atitude, você, obviamente, apoia, é uma atitude realizada apenas por valentões ignorantes, superficiais, não-conscientes, escravizados e pusilânimes! Eu acho repugnante.”
“Você me acha repugnante?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Se você pode continuar a manter sua opinião mal informada, tentando defender o indefensável, enfrentado com o que você sabe agora, eu faço.” O tolo malvado disse. “Além disso, se você continuar a manter essa opinião, você é muito estúpido e fraco para que eu perca minha energia, e eu desejo que você me deixe em paz. Eu prefiro a companhia de símios ignorante que pensam que sou um tolo malvado. ”
Pode ter sido todo fingido, mas o vendedor ambulante parecia genuinamente arrependido e perguntou. “O que você diz para eu ficar aqui, se eu mantiver minhas “exibições de estupidez e fraqueza” sob controle mais rigoroso?”
“Não mais palavras mi mangando, ou comentários sarcásticos, quando eu estou explicando as coisas?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Nem mesmo um.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eu não sei.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu realmente odeio perder meu tempo com estúpidos símios.”
“Eu entendo, disse o vendedor ambulante. “Se o que eu sugeri não te satisfizer, eu vou embora. Eu não quero ser continuamente insultado também.”
O vendedor ambulante demorou a partida, e o tolo malvado ficou em silêncio por um momento, antes de dizer. “Está tudo bem. Você pode ficar. Eu vou ter outra chance em você. Onde nós estávamos?”
“Fraqueza.”
“Oh sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Fraqueza. Você estava perguntando sobre a relação entre fraqueza e predação. A fraqueza evoluiu na natureza como um imã para a predação, o visa versa, tanto para predadores quanto para presas. Eles são reunidos para o mesmo fim, a exploração. O fraco ganha o esquecimento e / ou a liberdade da perseguição, da preocupação, da dor, ou da punição. O predador ganha uma refeição, dinheiro, ou mais. Explorar a fraqueza é sempre uma boa prática para os predadores. ”
“É obviamente mais fácil roubar uma velha cega ou um bêbado caindo do que um jovem sóbrio e saudável” Acrescentou o vendedor ambulante.
“Verdade.” O tolo malvado disse. “Em cada forma de vida, os predadores chegam para cortar, sangrar e matar os membros mais fracos de um rebanho. Sob os auspícios da Natureza o aspecto predatório de um sistema ecológico é crucial para um bioma equilibrado. Há limites, é claro. Por exemplo: Ursos, abelhas roubadoras, jaquetas amarelas, ácaros, agricultores que usam pesticidas, etc. podem matar rapidamente um apiário saudável e todo um ecossistema morrerá.
“Aparentemente, a Entropia se supera algumas vezes,” disse o vendedor ambulante.
O tolo malvado não respondeu ao comentário, mas continuou. “A predação intraespécies é outra coisa completamente diferente. Com exceção dos aspectos eugênicos, eu não acho que é sempre uma característica saudável em um ecossistema. Caedere riqueza é também um predador, em si, sem uma entidade anexa. O ideal de acumulação de riqueza caedere existe como uma quase-religião e é um fator indireto no inchaço e enfraquecimento da raça humana. Como em qualquer doença autoimune, um dia que a distensão não natural deve cessar. Quando a explosão acontece, a exposição resultante da fraqueza não terá aspectos estéticos. Quando os seres humanos entram em uma equação natural, suspendem sua humanidade e se tornam predadores na espécie humana, o sistema também começa a mudar. O sistema de mudança pode ser positivo ou negativo para a humanidade ou protoplasma. Depende geralmente do resultado final, mas virtualmente é sempre insalubre. ”
“Como é isso?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Eu vou te dar um exemplo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Dois jovens símios estão ligeiramente feridos e têm alguma dor residual. Um é um típico predador sub-humano, um advogado. O outro é um artista, um missionado humano. Ambos foram recentemente enlutados e estão se sentindo triste e deprimido. Nem fazem autoexame de vida necessário. Ambos vão a uma clínica para ajudar. Um médico, (ou seja, um parasita subumano com uma licença estatal para enganar pessoas fracas, para os bancos e empresas farmacêuticas, e vender drogas tóxicas juntamente com a falsa esperanças), dá a ambos os homens uma receita para um analgésico opiláceo e um antidepressivo. Ambos acabam por sair do antidepressivo, mas cada homem torna-se viciado em droga opioide. Os dois viciados novos terminam acima como suicides devido às drogas e sua tentativa subsequente abstinência. O resultado final é um evento global positivo para o planeta, já que sua carga é menor em mais de uma centena de quilos de carne de símio. A morte do advogado é uma bênção adicional e, porque os advogados são predadores, é uma tripla mudança positiva para o planeta. A morte do artista também é uma tragédia, no entanto, e termina em uma mudança negativa para o planeta, então uma lavagem. ”
“Não é uma lavagem.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Se a minha matemática está correta, isso deixa uma mudança positiva geral. Você se contradiz, dizendo que predação é virtualmente sempre insalubre?”

“Eu quis dizer que a morte do artista só resultou em uma lavagem geral para o planeta. Mas, verdadeiro, é um positivo total considerando o exemplo inteiro. A exceção que eu descrevi inadvertidamente, no entanto, com um pouco mais uma explicação, só acrescenta à minha prova. Primeiro, ambos eram suicídios. A maioria mortes da medicina não resulta em despojamento ou suicides rápidos mas demora sobre o tempo. Por quê? Os médicos não querem matar seus pacientes, porque a morte significa o fim da exploração e predação. Essa exploração cria um fardo maior no planeta do que um fim rápido como o suicídio. Em segundo lugar, tirei meu exemplo do todo contextual maior. Médicos e drogas geralmente apresenta mudanças negativas para a Vida planetária. No entanto, você ainda pode ver, mesmo com o meu mau exemplo, como o fim determina se o ecossistema alterado beneficia ou prejudica a viabilidade contínua da Vida planetária.
“Eu ainda não vejo como.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Como eu acabei de explicar, médicos, como parte da indústria médica, manter as pessoas doentes e vivos quando eles poderiam ser saudáveis ou mortos.” O tolo malvado reiterou. “Símios mortos são bons para o planeta. Simianos doentes são estressores em toda a vida. Você provavelmente não pode ver por que as pessoas querem estar doentes. Eu também não. Mas a maioria das pessoas, naturalmente, não querem viver. É só para ser esperado, eu acho. A vida é um tormento sem significado. Doentes e doentes prospectivos, fazem todos os tipos de coisas que são doentio e lento suicídios. Eles se deixam ficar deprimidos, perseguem acumulação de riquezas caedere, quebram leis natural, fumam, bebem demais, trabalham demais, usam drogas, comem porcaria, assistem TV, votam por predadores, enlouquecem, etc. Seu sistema imunológico cede, e eles ficam doentes. Os médicos são biólogos, mas traem sua educação. Eles poderiam geralmente dizer aos doentes como se curar ou morrer sem drogas. Eles poderiam explicar que o estilo de vida do doente, eo que ele está fazendo, é errado e insalubre. Eles poderiam ajudá-los doentes para ficar bem ou sair, deixando isso com isso. Mas não. Os médicos exploram o pseudo-suicídio, vendendo drogas, radiação, desnecessária cirurgia, e mentiras, recusando-se a deixar o doente recuperar ou morrer. Se eles sabem disso, são movidos por isso, ou são apenas demais fracos para resistir, “cuidado padrão” faz com que médicos casa-quebradores e assassinos contratados – assassinos para as empresas farmacêuticas.”
“Deixe-os morrer ?!” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim. Por que não?” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Se os doentios querem ficar doentes e morrer, por que não deixá-los? A existência não tem valor discernível mais do negativo. É perfeitamente possível que algum monstro (s) nos colocaram aqui para algum propósito sádico, prazer demente, ou punição. Se sim, foda-os! Morte nos dá alguns de insensibilidade para quem sabe quanto tempo? Adiar isso por algum motivo só amplifica o prazer para o (s) demônio (s). Estamos apenas programados para temer a morte para algum propósito que não o nosso. A indústria médica está nos mantendo vivos mais tempo e mais doente do que nunca, mas a ironia também é que os médicos estão nos matando tanto quanto eles sempre têm.”

“Eu vejo.” O vendedor ambulante resumiu. “Você não gosta de advogados e médicos. Mas, você acha que os médicos podem fazer coisas positivas em geral, foraendo seus pacientes. ”

“Você está empurrando, e não estão ajudando muito em me fazer sentir que eu estava certo em permitir que você converse mais comigo.” O tolo malvado disse.

“Mesmo?”

“Sim. Mas, você é divertido, por isso vou me esforçar para explicar como você mal interpretou o ponto de meu exemplo.” O tolo malvado disse.

“Por favor faça. Vou tentar ser mais decoroso.” O vendedor ambulante disse.

” A maioria das drogas e cirurgia que os médicos prescrevem para os seus pacientes torná-los doentes e mantê-los dessa forma.” O tolo malvado disse. “Esse tipo de predação resulta em um mal-estar na sociedade e em toda a Vida. Três dos oito cidadãos do SEA são viciados em opioides prescritos. Os americanos gastam 20% de seus rendimentos em questões médicas, três vezes o que outros países fazem. Os médicos ajudam a dar a Vida em doenças autoimunes gerais. Isso é o que os predadores humanos fazem. Isso é o que é a predação humano, uma doença autoimune planetária, e isso vai nos matar. A maior parte da predação humana é socialmente aceita. A predação humana foi racionalizada tanto em nossa sociedade que nos tornamos cegos à sua existência e afeta. Nós usamos mesmo nossa língua criar palavras que eufonize os efeitos da predação humano. Além disso, uma vez que todos usamos dinheiro caedere, nenhum de nós é totalmente livre de qualidades de predador humano, e todos nós somos parasitas até certo ponto. Também estamos muito fracos para ser uma influência 100% positiva para a Vida e a posteridade. Alguns de nós são de fato bastante fortes o suficiente para a tarefa, mas a vida humana é muito longa, e a raça humana é implacavelmente cruel. É apenas mais uma razão para que não possamos ser juízes efetivos e mais uma razão pela qual as Comunidades de Consenso, os CoCs, os guardiões devem deliberada, usam restrição e tolerância em suas atividades futuras.”

“O que são Comunidades de Consenso, CoCs?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.

“Se a biosfera é para sobreviver, as Comunidades de Consenso, CoCs devem chegar para ser o sistema imunológico do planeta.” O tolo malvado disse. “Estes grupos de humanos anarquistas ateus concordarão em um número de coisas. Uma coisa que todos concordarão, e todos os seus membros concordarão, é que a sua razão de ser é biosustentabilidade e a erradicação de todas as doenças autoimunes da Vida no planeta.”

“E se eles não podem concordar?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.

“Se um membro de um CoC não pode concordar com os outros membros, ele deixa o grupo ou é desterrado.” O tolo malvado disse.

“Isso é duro!” O vendedor ambulante disse.

Capítulo Doze

“Isso é lei natural.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “A raça humana, se é para sobreviver, deve acordar. Precisamos despertar para o fato de que a classe dominante está rapidamente tirando nossa humanidade de nós de várias maneiras. Não pode haver uma comunidade humana onde não haja liberdade. O destino da raça humana é o destino do caedere pobre. Devemos despertar para o conhecimento de que a definição de caedere de riqueza está destruindo o planeta, matando a esperança de evolução contínua e nós mesmos com ele. Somos obrigados a mudar essa definição de riqueza de uma com um símbolo de morte para uma com um símbolo Vivo, como a riqueza animans.”

“Que bom que isso vai fazer?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.

“Quando isso acontecer, iniciará uma repulsa pela riqueza caedere, os adoradores da morte e aqueles que lutam para adquirir muito riqueza caedere através da predação. Se a inteligência é um genótipo letal, uma das suas manifestações letais pode estar em um fenótipo que cultiva a morte. CoCs, inclinados nova forma as pessoas, vão procurar viver estilos de vida saudáveis, manter a sua humanidade e encontrar formas de manter-se como guardiões planetários. Eles formarão comunidades de pessoas de mentalidade semelhante que buscam rejuvenescer o planeta, movendo-se por todo o mundo, destruindo fornecedores de morte. Eles serão os protetores do planeta. A busca da verdade, da excelência e da biosustentabilidade serão as características mais significativas desses grupos. Eles serão imparáveis, inconquistáveis, fortes, livres e têm fé indomável em si mesmos e em sua missão.”

O tolo malvado olhou direto para o vendedor ambulante e continuou. “Inicialmente, estas Comunidades de Consenso, CoCs, serão bandos de guerrilhas. Eles consistirão de homens e mulheres educados que não têm medo de usar a violência como uma ferramenta para remover predadores. Eles enfrentarão as conseqüências, impávidos, se fossem apreendidos em suas quests. Os CoCs procurarão, reabilitarão ou removerão todos aqueles que derivam autoridade “legal” à existência predatória privilegiada do Estado ilegítimo. Esses poucos predadores privilegiados são sancionados por banqueiros, advogados, juízes, urubus da compaixão, sacerdotes, políticos, médicos, guardas de prisão, bandidos, etc.”

“Não folga?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou. “Nem mesmo para a escolha do povo?”

“Nenhum!” O tolo malvado disse. “Os políticos profissionais, o polery, são mais do que simples predadores. Polery é uma doença de deficiência mental, muitas vezes engendrada de uma infância destituída. Como outros criminosos predatórios patéticos – advogados, a maioria dos policiais e todos os condenados sem missão, os políticos são simianos doentes. A maioria vem de famílias disfuncionais.”

“Então, você aprova o casamento?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.

“Casamento, não. Famílias, sim.” O tolo malvado respondeu e continuou sua explicação. “Após um período de diligencie, e muita deliberação, os CoCs irão buscar, reabilitar ou remover todos os predadores e desajustes genéticos que estão sendo subsidiados com sangue humano. Os CoCs começarão por aspirar a remover os mais atrozes criminosos da biosustentabilidade, os banqueiros dinásticos e os servos do Estado, os políticos.”

“O que acontece durante o período de diligencie?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.

“Os custodiantes do CoC irão investigar os fatos do comportamento passado do suposto predador. Quando há um consenso entre os guerrilheiros quanto aos fatos, o período de diligencie terminará. “O tolo malvado explicou.

“Então o que acontece?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.

“Os guardiões vão apreender o suposto parasita.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles vão questioná-lo, e se o indivíduo deve provar ser um predador de boa-fé, os guardiões pedirão ao canalha reformar seu comportamento. Quer o predador manifeste ou não manifeste um desejo de reforma, os CoCs irão explicar a situação do parasita em relação à posição do CoC. Se o predador se recusar a reformar, ou tentar enganar, ou reincidente, os CoCs eutanasiarão o predador. ”

“O vendedor ambulante disse. “Terminar.”

“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se ele promete reformar, os CoCs podem liberá-lo. Se optar por recidivar, ou se revelar fraco demais para mudar, ou se retaliar, os guardas não voltarão a explicar. Eles claramente não podem explicar ad infinitum porque os CoCs são fugitivos de facto da SMO. Um predador deve ter toda a chance de admitir a capacidade de Entropia para ajudar, mas a logística também exige que os CoCs não gastem quantidades excessivas de tempo na reabilitação de um indivíduo. A ciência ainda não encontrou uma maneira tecnológica de remover o comportamento predatório, ou predação-proclividade, do símio propenso a parasitas. Os custódios podem, se assim o desejarem, expressar sua empatia e manifestar arrependimento quanto à desfortunada reabilitação e engendramento da impotência do CoC. Imediatamente após, o CoC eutanásia o predador.”
“Você está falando sério?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Completamente”. O tolo malvado disse. “Os CoCs não podem sentar-se em julgamento, mas tocar com aspectos da ilusão de livre-arbítrio é inútil, e a humanidade deve sobreviver. Os CoCs não podem ajudar se estão doentes e ficando mais doentes pelo microssegundo. Os CoCs precisam aprender a reconhecer as pessoas que ganham a vida com a predação, para que não se tornem suas vítimas. Predadores e pessoas que são vítimas de predação fazem isso por causa de educação inadequada e vigilância. Aqueles informados em biologia, literatura, filosofia e técnicas de resolução de problemas, etc. geralmente são melhores, quando enfrentam a predação, do que os desinformados.”
“As escolas públicas não preparam os cidadãos para a vida,” disse o vendedor ambulante. “Muito poucos alunos estudam tais assuntos”.
“Isso é verdade.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles preparam os alunos exatamente o oposto.”
“Só posso concordar,” disse o vendedor ambulante.
“O objetivo do Estado, com a educação, é vender mentiras e produzir escravos dóceis, presa de predadores abençoados pelo Estado.” O tolo malvado disse.
“A maioria dos pais foi criada no mesmo sistema educacional controlado pelo Estado que seus filhos. Portanto, eles não sabem de outra maneira e não podem preparar seus filhos para a vida também.” O vendedor ambulante disse, regenerando um pouco sua posição “caído”. “As escolas ensinam falsidades e fazem os pais pagarem pelo esforço.”
“Isso é correto.” O tolo malvado disse. “As escolas não enfatizam a autodisciplina, a criatividade, a atenção ou as habilidades de pensamento crítico. Os alunos deixam as escolas com um desprezo pela verdade e liberdade. Na maioria das vezes, esses indivíduos, tão escravo-doutrinados, encontrarão vida regimentou contemporânea vale a pena. Considerarão procurar ou falar a verdade demasiado árdua & mesmo desonrosa. Eles desistiram da Vida e estão entre aqueles que mais temem examinar o que é sobre suas vidas que eles acham que vale a pena. Eles não veem nenhum valor na biosustentabilidade ou anarquia, e anseiam por hierarquia. Eles sentem que estão apenas em risco quando agem, então eles mantêm suas cabeças curvadas, aceitando sua escravidão.”
“Descobrir a verdade objetiva através da mídia disponível não é possível.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Muito verdadeiro.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se Isaac Newton ou Jesus H. Cristo retornassem como cidadãos contemporâneos, seriam vistos como flocos, veados e burros, talvez até o mal. A cidadania simiana hoje é um pouco igual do que um grupo de macacos rhesus perturbado. A ignorância é politicamente correta para eles. Se a cidadania não aprender verdadeira história, biologia, habilidades de pensamento crítico, hábitos de vida saudáveis, etc., nunca escapará à predação intraespécies, e a ameaça de nossa extinção se tornará cada vez maior. Os CoCs devem educar seus membros não-instruídos, aumentando nossa situação de instintos perdidos com educação liberal antes que seja tarde demais. Os superpredadores não estão perdendo tempo. Eles têm sociedades secretas e grupos fraternos opulentos, incitando sua comunidade fechada, trabalhando muito duro para colocar todos os símios em uma situação política onde os superpredadores fazem todos os comandantes, controle todas as contingências. Nossa população está destinada a ser totalmente gerenciou por eles, a menos que agimos rapidamente. Eles planejam separar todos os símios, predadores e anfitriões, em apenas duas classes, hoi polloi & aristocratas.”
“Eu me pergunto que classe eles escolheram por si mesmos.” O vendedor ambulante brincou.
“Tomando o controle estrito da educação, os superpredadores matarão o espírito dele e doutrinarão camponeses diretamente através da tecnologia cyborg. Todo camponês terá um computador conectado ao cérebro, equipado com um interruptor de suicídio.” O tolo malvado disse. “Qualquer pessoa que não tenha uma conexão digital, cérebro-a nuvem de internet, um neurônio-modem-porto, será percebida como uma curiosidade pitoresca. A sociedade de cyborgs vai perceber os símios naturais como super-ignorantes animais, como domésticos cães ou gatos. Cyborgs vai cuidar de “seres humanos” naturais como os símios cuidam gado de confinamento ou animais de estimação hoje. O que é designado como um “ser humano”, mesmo agora, não é muito mais do que um telefone inteligente desafiado pelo meio ambiente. Em breve, não haverá muita diferença entre pessoas e telefones. Cada pessoa será programada pelas empresas da tecnologia gigantes e desligada na direção do controlador.”
“Parece ficção científica, mas eu conheço algumas pessoas que já tiveram chips instalados, e máquinas de mídia social têm algoritmos que podem nos manipular em TUDO. Então, eu não tenho certeza se você está errado em espírito, mesmo que não seja preciso em todos os detalhes.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Dê-me uma ideia dos grupos que você considera predadores.”
“Essa lista é vasta e reluzentemente relativa.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu não acho que eu possa enumerar todos os predadores humanos organizados, agora. Só lhe posso dar uma lista dos que considero mais predatórios. Um deles nem está vivo.”
“Não vivo ?!” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Não vivo, e não é um vírus tampouco.” O tolo malvado disse. “Todos usamos isso. . . dinheiro, capital. O capitalismo, a acumulação de riqueza caedere, tem se emprestado a se tornar um dos melhores exemplos de predação humana que temos hoje. Lucro é de fato roubo, ou pelo menos fraude. Economia é o estudo desse roubo, mas tem sido poupado de seu estigma.”

“O livre mercado ainda é o melhor sistema econômico jamais planejado.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eu também acho.” O tolo malvado disse. “No entanto, o capitalismo de mercado livre é adorado de forma imprecisa, tantas vezes quanto é injustamente condenado.”
“Por quê?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Caedere capital é insidioso, e pode comprar qualquer coisa, até a destruição da virtude, e não honra a honra. A predação no capitalismo estritamente de livre mercado, no entanto, é relativamente menor e existe como uma via de mão dupla. Todo predador insignificante preso em cada outro predador insignificante em uma espécie de concurso mijando. A predação não mata muitos de nós, então aceitamos, usamos e nos beneficiamos dele.” O tolo malvado disse. “O capitalismo de mercado livre é apenas inaceitável quando deixa a categoria círculo-empurrão e se conecta com os políticos, banqueiros dinásticos, estupradores corporativos econômicos e cartéis. Aqui, sua capacidade predatória torna-se hipertrofiada como fracionária-bancária e fascista. O capital e o trabalho são mantidos numa situação de guerra pelos sionistas superpredadores. Ligado a um número desses cartéis ou superpredadores, o capital é subvertido de seus benefícios universais e torna-se o epítome da predação. Esses aspectos predatórios do capitalismo podem revelar-se mais profundos. Se o capital não fosse acoplado ao simbolismo caedere não seria tão negativo para a biosustentabilidade. Mas o capital contemporâneo, mesmo moeda digital, como bitcoin, é de fato caedere.”
“Ao contrário de animans?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Até que o capital seja um script vivo, representando uma quantidade de Vida, não um símbolo de uma quantidade de morte, será de fato negativo para todo o mundo vivo. O capital deve ser revisto no cadinho dos valores e fundido nos fogos da biosustentabilidade. ”
“Você disse que me daria uma lista das influências mais predatórias do mundo?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“E, eu vou.” O tolo malvado disse. “Há oito grupos que são os parasitas mais flagrantes e saqueadores em nossa sociedade. Estas são a doença autoimune do planeta, os assassinos supremos e os principais destruidores da liberdade, saúde humana, e felicidade. As Comunidades de Consenso, CoCs, devem considerar seriamente a reabilitação, ou a eliminação dos comportamentos, dos membros desses grupos se a raça humana e a Vida planetária são para sobreviver. São eles: 1. o estabelecimento médico, 2. o estabelecimento legal, 3. o sistema prisional, 4. o estabelecimento religioso, 5. o setor bancário fracionário 6. o Estado e seu governo, 7. as máfias, 8. advogados de desajustes genéticos e os deficientes.”
“Você poderia ter facilmente também mencionado a mídia de notícias e entretenimento, fabricantes de pesticidas, e a indústria de urânio, etc.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Por que não o fez?”
“Sim, eu poderia ter. Os 8 grupos que mencionei são os mais predatórios.” O tolo malvado disse. “Você pode incluir muitos grupos predatórios sob as rubricas dos meus oito mencionados. Por exemplo, você pode incluir a fabricação de pesticidas com produtos farmacêuticos no estabelecimento médico. Incluir a indústria de mídia e entretenimento, juntamente com os predadores do estado-nação, uma vez que os políticos se beneficiam mais da censura, e as mentiras e propaganda que eles vomitam. Inclua a indústria de urânio e todos os tipos de energia nuclear no setor bancário, já que são os banqueiros que operam e que mais se beneficiarão deles.”
“Nem todas as pessoas que trabalham nos grupos predatórios e nas indústrias são predadoras, são?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Talvez não, mas desde que eles contribuem para a predação geral, e a organização predatória não poderia funcionar sem os seus serviços, eles também são parasitas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Para que não haja confusão, vou te dar uma lista parcial de predadores individuais nas oito organizações predatórias. São os seguintes: Médicos, administradores de hospitais, advogados, procuradores, juízes, magistrados, guardas, guardas de prisão, papas, bispos, cardeais, sacerdotes, pastores, diáconos, celebridades da mídia, bruxos, bruxas, executivos de poder nuclear, políticos, burocratas, abutres de compaixão, desajustes genéticos, deficientes, bandidos, etc. Estes representam um smorgasbord de predadores humanos. Para eles, pode-se adicionar outras fraudes clandestinas, trapeceiras, extorsionistas, escravistas, assassinos do contratos, etc., todos os parasitas.”
“Além dos criminosos comuns, eu não acho que você nunca vai vender ninguém sobre a natureza predatória desses grupos. Alguns, como médicos, são considerados a quintessência do altruísmo e dos humanitarismo.” O vendedor ambulante observou.
“Estou ciente disso.” O tolo malvado disse. “Todos nós fazemos, ou tentamos fazer, o que, pensamos, vamos viver enquanto vivemos. Algumas pessoas se sentem importantes em sua pompa e circunstância. Outros se sentem impotentes, apodrecendo em casas, cada ato é uma aparente decepção. O tempo indicará qual de nós realmente foi útil para a vida. Nossa realizaçãoes duradoura não será determinada em nossas vidas. Algumas das pessoas de som mais bem sucedidas se tornam tremendas catástrofes ao longo do tempo e vice-versa. Eu também não sou um politico, tentando obter amor de imbeciles. Estou simplesmente falando a verdade, como eu acho que é. Pode ser apenas um exercício em futilidade. Eu também estou tentando raciocinar um sentido mais seguro de sobrevivência para minha filha, a raça humana, e nossos “também-correos”. Posso fazer isso construindo sobre uma base de lama? Como posso fazer isso, usando mentiras e decepção?”
“Ou covardia?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Ou covardia.” O tolo malvado concordou. “Eu sei que estou em risco para minhas crenças.”
“Mas, você não se importa?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Claro que me importo.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Não vou jogar minha vida fora, mas não vou salvá-lo escondendo-se na caverna de um eremita ou em uma lagoa politicamente-correta. Pusilanimidade seria contraproducente. Existe uma interconexão entre as indústrias predatórias que lhes permite ajudar e cooperar em todos os lugares. Estou em risco depois de atacar qualquer um dos oito que eu mencionei. Eu nunca encontrei uma maneira de demarcar perfeitamente cada organização predadora distinta. Todos eles estão inextricavelmente inter-relacionados. Há inevitável mistura e sobreposição de categorias predatórias. Predadores todos usam a mídia de notícias e entretenimento para torcer percepções e conceitos em que serve como “a mente” da população. Para uma pessoa honesta de qualidade, tornando-se um “inimigo do povo” não é uma disposição evitável.”
“Diga-me por que o primeiro grupo que você mencionou, o estabelecimento médico, está tão predatórios e parasíticas.” O vendedor ambulante perguntou. “Você começou a fazê-lo há alguns minutos atrás.”

Capítulo Treze
O tolo malvado disse. “A ciência médica não é uma coisa negativa, e nós temos pessoas que lutaram muito para tirar esses fatos do éter. Muitos inovadores exerceram grande coragem e sofreram muitas dificuldades para fazê-lo. No entanto, muitos desses mesmos avanços são usados por a maioria dos médicos e hospitais para fazer mal. Praticamente todos os médicos são predadores, seja por meio de atos de comissão ou omissão. Os médicos não têm conhecimento, não têm qualquer sentimento, ou são prejudiciais, aos danos que infligem. Os CoCs precisam verificar quais os avanços científicos que são necessários, os que são facilmente abusados pelos médicos, os médicos que estão abusando deles, aqueles (médicos e adiantamentos) que devem ser descartados, e o que pode ser feito para garantir os problemas corrigidos não ressurgir. Embora médicos são considerados a terceira principal causa de morte, por trás de doença cardíaca & câncer, não é uma avaliação precisa. Muitas mortes não são incluídas ao tabular as estatísticas. O estabelecimento médico desprezível, isto é, AMA, médicos, infecções nosocômios, com assistência farmacêutica, matam mais pessoas do que qualquer outra influência letal. Fazendo isso, os médicos são os principais assassinos do mundo. Não é como se a indústria não soubesse o que está fazendo. Até o final do primeiro mês de faculdade de medicina jovens médicos em potencial sabem, ou devem saber, que 90% de seu “curandeiro” aspiração é predação e apenas 10% é altruísta. Essa consciência sozinha pode levar muitos a sua alta taxa de suicídio. Os outros continuam estudando e memorizando as mentiras que lhes são dadas para colher, um dia, uma colheita ampla de caedere. Muitos médicos são Judeus Talmúdicos. A doutrina da supremacia racial Talmúdica afirma que matar e escravizar não-Judeus não é errado. Os rabinos rotineiramente pregam tal lixo de supremacia racial. O Talmude exige que os médicos Judeus tornem os não-Judeus doentes e não curar os não-Judeus. Que melhor maneira de escravizar alguém do que fazê-los doentes, mantê-los doentes e cobrar-lhes uma fortuna para não os matar? Nem todos os médicos são palermas Talmúdicos, mas muitos são.”
“Eu estava ciente de alguns, mas não de todos.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“A maioria das pessoas não está ciente de nada disso e apenas deixe a situação prendê-los.” O tolo malvado disse. “Natureza destinada a sua criação para levar uma vida saudável ou morrer. A existência de sistemas imunológicos e toda a biologia prova isso. Os médicos violam as leis naturais, desprezivelmente mantendo as pessoas vivas, que devem estar mortas. Eles mantêm suas vítimas em estado de doença e doença perpétuas, explorando-as o máximo possível, antes de matá-las. Em praticamente todos os casos, a exploração que ocorre, é com a colusão do paciente. Além disso, como os advogados, os médicos poderiam ser facilmente substituídos por computadores. A única parte da medicina ou Lei que não pode ser substituída por computadores são os erros e a predação.”
“Eu li algumas das estatísticas sobre infecções nosocômios. Muito assustador.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Em grande parte, a predação dos charlatões está escondida do escrutínio público,” Disse o tolo malvado. “Há uma neurose transacional envolvida entre os” curandeiros “, o estabelecimento médico maior, e as vítimas entropia-estragado, i.e., os “doentios “. As pessoas envelhecem. Os erros cometidos e as agressões sofreram quando os jovens se acumularam e aumentaram a carga da vida, tornando-nos feios e fracos à medida que envelhecemos. Poucos jovens saudáveis apreciam a companhia de gordos reclamando velhos fracos. Os médicos aceitam esse desafio, pelo imundo lucro envolvido, ajudando e estimulando a longevidade da indisposição do doente. Praticamente o mundo inteiro, incluindo os adoradores da morte, acredita que a morte seja o maior mal. Praticamente todas as vítimas da doença e seus entes queridos vão parar em praticamente nada para ajudar a sobrevivência do doentio. Esse comportamento inclui acreditar na omnipotência do curandeiro e na ciência “cura”, apesar da ampla evidência de incompetência venal.”
“Tal como?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Por que um exemplo pode ser encontrado aqui mesmo nesta aldeia.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu aprendi sobre a experiência da jovem seguinte de meu vizinho. Nossa heroína foi até o médico com um leve inchaço na garganta. Acabou por ser um bócio incipiente. No norte do Brasil, você pode não estar ciente, o iodo é quase completamente falta no solo. A comida também é sem muito iodo aqui. Tenho certeza de que você sabe o quanto os brasileiros gostam de comer raízes de mandioca seca e em pó (farina). Farina e tapioca tirão iodo do corpo tão rápido como médicos tirão dinheiro de contas bancárias do paciente. Quando o iodo está faltando, a tiroide no pescoço expande para armadilha cada pedaço de iodo pode apanhar. Na falta de encontrar iodo, a tireoide continua a inchar, e um bócio desenvolve. Todo o tempo, torna inútil o hormônio da tiroxina. Os médicos sabem tudo isso, mas alguns escolhem chamá-lo de câncer. O médico ao qual me refiro não aconselhou a jovem que estava passando por um bócio incipiente com deficiência de iodo. Ele, em vez disso, disse a ela que ela tinha câncer de tireoide em estágio inicial. Embora ele não tenha dito que era incurável, ele sustentou que ela seria bem-aconselhada a ter uma tireoidectómica imediata. Eu já aprendi que o médico gostava de caçar tatu, e ele realmente precisava de um rifle amador. O médico segundo opinião concordou com o primeiro médico de cortesia profissional, não mencionar uma resposta esperada quid pro quo semelhante no futuro também. Depois da segunda opinião, a jovem confiou no primeiro médico, ainda mais. Hoje ela é a orgulhosa proprietária de uma bonita garganta cicatriz e uma dependência de hormônio tiroxina sintético. Se o médico não tivesse sido um predador, ele teria dito à jovem para comprar um 30ml. garrafa de tintura de iodo, US $ 4, para um fornecimento de 5 anos, e colocar algumas gotas de uma garrafa de 20 litros de água-refrigerador. Alguns goles / dia, e o bócio acabaria por encolher. Ela também teria perdido algum peso, protegido de uma série de neoplasias, duplicou sua energia normal, e impediu a sua diabetes tipo 2. O médico era um predador, não um humano, e ele pegou sua nova arma. Final feliz.”
“Eu direi.”
“Esse não é o único exemplo.” O tolo malvado continuou. “Um homem de meia-idade descobriu que estava “perdendo o controle”. Seus pulsos e articulações dos dedos estavam ficando doloridos e rígidos. O médico diagnosticou-o com artrite reumatoide e sugeriu uma boa operação para remover a articulação do polegar direito mais ofensivo. O homem confiante, que também tinha seu próprio construído em transacional-neuroses enfermeira esposa, concordou com a mutilação. Hoje, um ano depois, tentando comer com uma mão direita mutilada, ele já não joga comida ao redor da mesa. “Ele se ajustou melhor do que o esperado”, o suposto charlatão supostamente observou, escolhendo uma boa frase agradável do bom folheto de propaganda da bom firme da droga. Se o médico não tivesse sido um predador, ele teria explicado ao homem como alguns exercícios de mão simples e meia hora de sol sem nuvens um dia teria feito trabalho curto do reumatismo. A uvB teria produzido vitamina D3 suficiente para facilitar o reparo das articulações duras e dolorosas. O movimento dirigido teria devolvido sua compreensão sem dor sem cirurgia. Em vez disso, o médico encaminhou seu paciente confiante para um especialista em coração que disse que perder a aderência significa uma condição cardíaca. Hoje o homem parece um esqueleto, é completamente careca, e ele não se sente muito bem. Mas, com o tratamento adequado e drogas que ele é esperado para viver a uma idade madura. “Os pacientes toleram bem o regime”, diz o refrão do charlatão, tirado do bom panfleto do jargão da mesma bom firme das drogas. Para ser justo, os médicos e hospitais geralmente só matam por acidente as pessoas que confiam neles. Eles não são estúpidos, esses predadores.”

“Eles não querem perder seus gansos dourados”. O vendedor ambulante disse.

“Claro que não.” O tolo malvado concordou. “A razão pela qual eles matam muitos é que é difícil acompanhar todos os pacientes, drogas vendidas, as administradas e todas as mentiras com os quais eles finalmente confundem os pacientes. Às vezes eles se confundem, e as pessoas sortudas morrem. Sortudos nós. Por que os médicos têm tantos pacientes? Os médicos estão inundados com pacientes porque a AMA aprendeu a aplicar o axioma da oferta e da demanda muito bem. Somente os alunos que podem passar pelo exame farmacêutico de super-sycophancia fazem parte do suprimento limitado dos trapaceiros credenciados.”
“Todos os médicos tratam as pessoas como se fossem vacas leiteiras?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Praticamente tudo.” O tolo malvado disse. “A função de um médico deve ser apenas para atender a emergências, proteger da doença e melhorar a vida do paciente, aconselhar sobre testes de laboratório, melhorar a vida do paciente, oferecer nutritivos e estilo de vida conselhos, e pronunciar sentença de morte em biológicos desajustados e os doentes terminais. Em vez disso, eles seduzir-se na falsa esperança, conflito de interesses e veneno negócio. Lá, eles colhem um fluxo constante de renda de suas presas escravizadas ou moribundas. Médicos, assim como suas coortes profissionais – advogados e políticos, são predadores humanos. Eles não são ruins, merecendo o fogo do inferno, apenas parasitas fracos, querendo mudanças comportamentais ou a remoção da sociedade.”
“Sempre que nos sentimos ligeiramente fora de nossos eixos precavido temos o conselho banal. “Consultar com um médico”, “sempre conversar com seu médico primeiro”, “o seu médico sabe melhor”, “nunca se automedicar”, “obter uma segunda opinião.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Todo mundo tem medo de invadir o campo dos médicos.”
“Eu sei. Eu também ouvi os comandos de precaução. “O tolo malvado disse. “Todos procuram autoridade para, médicos, políticos, advogados, sacerdotes, etc.. Se alguém deveria, “Prática de medicina sem licença”, o irmão predadores do médico (advogados, políticos, etc.) vão pular ao lado do médico estado-licenciado para assistência penal. A propaganda mendaz, encaixada nestes enfadonho repetitivos, ofusca um fato vil. O “bom médico” lhe dará todos os testes, produtos químicos, cortes de faca e conselhos ruins necessários para mantê-lo um bom, doente, macaco de estabelecimento, lavável. Organizações predatórias auxiliares, como a indústria de notícias e entretenimento, aliadas aos charlatões, ajudam a disseminar pernicioso propaganda para ajudar a alcançar e proteger o estado covarde de dependência.”
“As pessoas não são todos biólogos.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Eles não sabem muito sobre nutrição e tratamento não médico para seus males. O que eles fazem se ficarem doentes?”
“Uma pessoa deve ser capaz de se manter saudável, ou se recuperar de doença transitória, com bom estilo de vida, autocontrole, educação, dieta, exercício, sol amplo e uma atitude positiva.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se não pode, significa que a natureza perdeu eficazmente sua paciência com essa pessoa, sua ignorância, ou esse desejo da pessoa para a morte ganhou a batalha. O doente deve ser autorizado a morrer, dando espaço para uma pessoa saudável. A profissão médica intervém para explorar. Eles sabem que são fraudes e predadores. Eles vivem no medo perpétuo de que todos nós descobrir a verdade de sua fraude coletiva. Você pensaria com todo o dinheiro que eles receberam, fazendo coisas para nós, que eles sempre estariam felizes, não é?”
“Bem. Eu acho que eles estão felizes o suficiente.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Eles parecem assim.”
“É uma fachada.” O tolo malvado disse. “Por que você acha que há tantos suicídios médicos? Eles se escondem atrás de seus casacos brancos e estetoscópios e continuam engolindo a droga da “cultura da medicina” para continuar explorando os capoeiros. ”
“O que você faria as pessoas doentes?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Fique bem ou morra!” Disse o tolo malvado. “Os programas da natureza nos potencializam para sermos saudáveis o suficiente para reproduzir. Nós interferimos. Todas as pessoas devem estudar biologia e se tornar seu próprio “médico”. Os computadores irão ajudá-lo. Apenas em ocasiões muito raras são necessários especialistas. A doença pode ser evitada, sem usar medicamentos, respeitando algumas regras simples. O dinheiro que as pessoas gastam em trapaceiros, ou perdem para outros predadores, eles poderiam usar para comprar ou cultivar nutritivo não contaminado alimentos. Em vez de educar crianças em estilos de vida salubres, a sociedade evita sua responsabilidade e permite que os doentios sejam explorados por alguns poucos. Por que eles devem ser oprimidos? E, por que os doentios devem causar a si mesmos e aos seus companheiros mais miséria ouvindo charlatães predadores e tomando drogas venenosas que adoecem eles mais e acabam no abastecimento de água? Os doentios esquizoides estão tão cheios de lesões de sobrevivência constitutivas que se tornam mentis non-compos, comportando-se como todas as presas se comportam.”
“Drogas no abastecimento de água?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Doentios também urinar e defecar. As drogas dissolvidas que tomam deixam os corpos do doentio e entram no ambiente, fazendo doente outros também. Aquíferos em todo o mundo estão contaminados com produtos químicos excretados por rins “doentios”. Urina e fezes, entre outras substâncias de escolha, entram em sistemas de tratamento de esgoto e são banhadas em cloro. As cloraminas e trihalometanos carcinogênicos se misturam com todos os outros produtos químicos tóxicos da indústria de pesticidas, flúor de desdobramento farmacêuticos e a tomada de lucros do estabelecimento médico. Contemplar! Toda uma nova safra de doentias marchas até ser contado como presa. ”
“Parece que as empresas farmacêuticas e os médicos estão em conluio.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Claro, eles fazem, e têm feito isso por mais de cem anos.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles são uma doença. A mistura de Big Pharma com o estabelecimento bancário e médico fez uma aliança profana, e é quase invencível. Os predadores legais e políticos, auxiliados pelos predadores religiosos, bancários e midiáticos, ajudam os abutres de compaixão e os charlatões na sugação de sangue. Com a cumplicidade dos predadores mais insidiosos, os médicos efetivamente apagaram o juramento de Hipócrates. Um exemplo perfeito dessa charada existe hoje na grande fraude do HIV-SIDA.”
“Troféu?” Perguntou o ambulante.
“A SIDA, ao contrário da tuberculose africana, da marca X, e dos imitadores, é uma indisposição cum doença causada por estilos de vida bizarros que são tacitamente proibidos pela Natureza. SIDA mata impunemente! É um caso simples de causa e efeito. A fraude, associada à SIDA, é baseada na crença em um vírus causal, o “HIV”. O HIV pode até não existir.” O tolo malvado disse. “Ninguém jamais viu provas definitivas de que isso aconteça. Não há micrografias eletrônicas dele em ação. As micrografias pretendidas mostram apenas artefatos de correlação que não seguem os Postulados de Koch. A única prova que existe é falsa – pesquisa financiada por empresas farmacêuticas e publicada em revistas “Científica” de empresas farmacêuticas. O teste de HIV-ELISA é completamente falso. Pode ser milhares de viroses que são específicos, ou quase, para cada tipo de célula humana ou animal. Praticamente ninguém foi caracterizado, e muito menos, algum HIV.”
“Como pode ser?” Perguntou o ambulante.
“Se existir um vírus que se associa com a SIDA, provavelmente é um artefato ou um simples roteiro de passageiros.” O tolo malvado disse. “O teste de HIV, em si, testes para pedaços de vírus de outros retrovírus. Praticamente todas as vítimas clássicas da SIDA são degeneradas, viciados em drogas e anal-copuladores. Estes pobres doentios, ajudados por médicos de tráfico de drogas e as fábricas de propaganda politicamente correta, permitiram estilos de vida tóxicos bizarras para destruir seus sistemas imunológicos. Como com quase todas as doenças, os estilos de vida mal saudáveis são a principal causa da SIDA. Há outras causas: Terror & Vergonha, depois de receber a notícia de que um execrável teste ELISA-HIV exibiu positivo. O aviso repreensível deprime a competência do sistema imunológico muito mais do que é levado aproximadamente. Contra HIV / SIDA drogas rasgar um grande buraco em todo o corpo símio, não apenas o sistema imunológico. Todos os quatro destroem a vontade de viver.”
“Eu entendo como injetar drogas pode deprimir um sistema imunológico, mas fodendo cu?” O vendedor ambulante brincou. “Você está falando sobre o amor da minha vida.”
“O esperma introduzido em um ambiente de micróbios, putrefação, fezes e sangue pode selecione para um excesso de agressões químicas e biológicas que o sistema imunológico não pode contestar eficazmente.” O tolo malvado disse. “A natureza pretendia que o sistema imunológico lidasse com assaltos ocasionais. Ela, aparentemente, não prevê uma mania tão profusa para os narcóticos e a cópula anal. Textos antigos franziam a testa e até proibiam a sodomia. Talvez por essa razão.
“Talvez os antigos tivessem seus próprios ataques com SIDA.” O vendedor ambulante sugeriu.
“Inteiramente possível.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se deixarmos de lado por um momento as vítimas da SIDA que contraem por ela com seus estilos de vida insalubre, chegamos à SIDA iatrogênica ou medicamente induzida. A perda de vontade de viver, a partir dos resultados positivos do teste ELISA-HIV, potencializa um conselho médico predatório e um excesso de vontade de viver. Vítimas do HIV-ELISA-testes-fraudes são persuadidos pelo predador humano combinam para dar-se a doença. Químicos tóxicos, como os distribuídos pelas empresas farmacêuticas, empurrado por cúmplice médica, incluem: terminadores de cadeia de DNA, contra- retrovirais, inibidores de protease, vacinas, remédios genéricos tóxicos, etc. “A combinação profana de exames médicos, autoatendimento consuelo, autossugestão, e drogas eficazmente atacar a vítima, enganado em acreditar no potencial de um vírus imaginário. Ainda resta pouca esperança.
“Eles são caros também.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Tais venenos, figurativamente, fecham o caixão.” O tolo malvado disse. “As vítimas enganadas recebem a mesma doença que os toxicodependentes e os anal-copuladores ficam sem qualquer do suposto prazer carnal que acompanha esses estranhos estilos de vida. Terror, vergonha e tratamento não terminam com a morte da vítima. Os produtos químicos tóxicos excretados e excedentes não apenas desaparecem. Sua toxicidade permanece intacta muito tempo após o tratamento de esgoto, e o pesadelo continua.”

Capítulo Quatorze
“A água da torneira?” Perguntou o ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Outras pessoas ficam doentes quando bebem drogo derivados de excretada-urina de fulano de SIDA que acabam na água da torneira. Químicos tóxicos desnecessários, análogos de DNA e outros núcleos aromáticos de medicamentos que matam e afligem milhares de pessoas todos os anos.”
“Mais terror, vergonha e tratamento.” O vendedor ambulante concordou.
“”Certo. E a morte. E porquê?” O tolo malvado disse. “A estafa é impingida ao mundo por um consórcio virtual do estado, médico, jurídico, penal, mídia, bancário, abutres de compaixão, e religioso predadores.”

“Você não pode escapar.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Não. O tolo malvado concordou. “Em áreas onde o teste de HIV não é considerado falso e predadores organizados estão em grande quantidade, é considerado criminoso e imoral ser HIV positivo e permanecer saudável. Sem uma promessa de fato de tentar destruir a saúde através da ingestão de produtos químicos tóxicos, um seropositivo pode ser submetido ao regime pela força. Uma entidade HIV-positiva DEVE ser colocada aberta para as drogas tóxicas. O sistema jurídico do Estado exige o cumprimento, se não diretamente, então indiretamente. Organizado parasitismo linhas nos bolsos de não só Grande Pharma e Pequeno Charlatões. Vigilantes, guardas de prisão, comerciais escravizadores dos prisioneiros, etc., lucram com a cópula anal e as drogas que alimentam o vício. Existem mais de 5 mil prisões no SEA e menos de trinta têm programas de tratamento de viciados. Você acha que é um acidente que a indústria do entretenimento empuxa a perversão sexual, e demônios politicamente-corretos empurram a perversão sexual? Os predadores estão unidos na causa da AIDS e na imposição do tratamento do HIV. A fraude da “moralidade” do sistema religioso e pseudo “karma” fraude de vida após morte também encoraja o cumprimento. . A propaganda da droga do estado e da mídia e as mentiras definitivas ajudam a gerar consumidores cada vez mais ávidos de drogas.”
“A guerra contra drogas falhou?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante, sarcástico.
“A Guerra das Drogas falhou?” Perguntou o tolo malvado. “De jeito nenhum! O dinheiro feito pelos predadores do mundo, em drogas ilegais, por centenas de anos, e agora “legalizado por prescrição” também, nunca foi maior do que depois da guerra contra as drogas permitiu. Mas eu divago. Com licença.”
“Você está desculpado.” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “Como é que um, virando “positivo” em um teste de HIV, escapar destino?”
“Boa pergunta.” O tolo malvado disse. “Por razões óbvias, predadores médicos recomendam testes regulares. “Se no começo você não tiver sucesso”. . . (na apresentação positiva), manter o teste, certo? Mais cedo ou mais tarde, esses parasitas médicos vão enganar muitos dos ingênuos. Uma menina em um período irregular ou um indivíduo que retornou recentemente de uma região endémica da malária pode testar o positivo. Um recém-convertido a TB positivo provavelmente também será positivo na maioria das variações do teste ELISA-HIV padrão. Alguns novos positivos, nunca saberão que seu único crime era comer recentemente uma pizza feita a partir de queijo fermentado do leite de uma cabra infectada com CAE Virus.”
“Imaginem o choque de morte que o otário deve sentir, aceitando de boa-fé os resultados positivos em uma dessas falsas provas de HIV!” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Aposto que há suicídios por causa disso.”
“Oh, existem.” Disse o tolo malvado. “Algumas pessoas apenas se encolhem e morrem da sentença. Minha filha recentemente me contou sobre uma piada prática, indo ao redor, que deve aumentar drasticamente o número de frascos teste HIV positivo. Uma pessoa é dada uma banana para comer que é suposto ter sido pré-injetado com fluido corporal de um paciente com SIDA. Basta pensar em quantas pessoas, depois disso, acreditam que podem ter sido infectadas. Quantos mais irão receber um teste de HIV falso? Quantos mais acreditam nos resultados dos testes e comece a medicar? Gênio do marketing farmacêutico!”

“Imagine que lhe dizem que tem uma doença incurável. Sua vida inteira é instantaneamente desviada.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“O charlatão é ubíquo, como um abutre, oferecendo esperança – uma fraude e um gole.” O tolo malvado disse. “Como, de fato, alguém resiste a tal maldade? A enormidade do golpe é incrível!”
“A multidão politicamente correta considera o tratamento como um dado.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Isso é certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os meios de comunicação famintos pela publicidade se envolvem. Esses predadores são filiais da indústria bancária fracionária parasitária. O dinheiro do sangue de Grande Pharma contrata a propaganda maliciosa politicamente correta da mídia. Ele dirige o punhal sancionado mais fundo na vítima. Vender uma pessoa, ou o contribuinte, venenos de alto dólar, induzindo as pessoas a consumi-los. Lhe efetivamente mata vítima após vítima. Uma vez que as drogas, especuloso focadas no HIV evasivo, tornam as vítimas doentes, os mercenários charlatães descer e administrar outras drogas tóxicas. Estes medicamentos custam ainda mais em dinheiro, náuseas e dor. Os médicos, administradores de hospitais e empresas farmacêuticas coletar cada vez mais caedere riqueza. Outra história de sucesso.”
“Parece desesperado.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim, sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, suponha, por um momento, que eu estou errado, e um dia a SIDA começa a obedecer aos Postulados de Koch e SIDA provar ter uma causa viral. Como outras doenças causadas por vírus em fluidos corporais, você pode beijar alguém e obter a doença da saliva. Você também pode obter a doença de mosquitos ou besouros triatomas. Evidentemente, a propaganda da SIDA da empresa farmacêutica sustenta que a SIDA é mágica e não transmitida por sugando sangue insetos ou beijando. Você está começando a ver a magnitude da fraude?”
“É enorme!” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Continue imaginando que o HIV causa a SIDA.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas suponha que os contra retrovirais e os inibidores de protease, de fato, com uma certa morbidade duradoura, salvem a vítima do HIV da mortalidade imediata. Antes que o vírus mata, se os produtos químicos são ainda marginalmente eficazes, a vítima passará muitos dias em uma condição de sofrimento intermitente. Certo?”
“Claro.”
“Durante essa moribunda vida aumentada, a vítima infectará outros parceiros sexuais.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles vão infectar outros com vírus mais poderosos, agora educados para resistir os anti-retrovirais administrados também.”
“Então, as drogas vão apenas fazer a epidemia pior!” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Essa é a minha opinião sobre isso.” O tolo malvado concordou.
“Não faz diferença se a SIDA tem uma causa viral ou não.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Nenhum.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “É pura predação. O regime químico, além do inconscientemente consumido tóxico da água da torneira, com as suas resultantes “infecções”, é quase um negócio perfeito hoje.”
“Governos e superpredadores, desejosos de despovoar indiscriminadamente, nunca irão contra o status quo agora.” O vendedor ambulante acrescentou. “Eles não podem pensar em nada melhor do que envenenar o abastecimento de água com drogas de AIDS, fluorina e drogas tóxicas de outras fontes e indústrias.”
“Agora, com o desenvolvimento do fruto injetado, a demanda por testes vai subir, e o trapaça pode continuar, aparentemente, ad infinitum.” O tolo malvado falhou.
“Está certo!”
“Puro lucro – sem desvantagem.” O tolo malvado disse. “Vender inocentes em testes de HIV e um regime de venenos não tem nenhum risco para os predadores farmacêutico-médicos. É um esquema digno de “ladrões de viúvas e órfãos, traidor de amigos” de outrora. A indústria da saúde ganha cada vez que um capoeiro novo é descoberto. Há muitos palermas.”
“Você está me convencendo. Devo admitir. Eu nunca soube os quão agudos eram os médicos.” O vendedor ambulante admitiu.
“Tenho outro exemplo: a causa da maioria dos melanomas malignos não é absolutamente certa.” O tolo malvado disse. “Protetor solar, chuveiros quentes, água fluorada, gorduras trans, e luz solar deficiente em ozônio-filtração são os suspeitos mais prováveis. O protetor solar contém uma grande quantidade de produtos químicos tóxicos, todos os quais são garantidos para adoecer seus usuários e fazer com que qualquer medico predador avaro seja feliz. Rav Aloirav, o famoso criador de armas biológicas cirúrgicas, disse. “Nunca coloque nada na sua pele que você também não engolisse de boa vontade.” Os produtos químicos na proteção solar deprimem os sistemas imunológicos, envenenando os usuários. Eles também sombrear o ultravioleta salubre B, uvB, mais do que eles fazem o ultravioleta extra inimigo A, uvA. Isto engana as pessoas a permitir que mais da uvA entre na sua pele indefesa para dar mutações, como os dímeros de TT, precursores de câncer. O sol faz a mesma coisa, sem a ajuda de protetor solar, em dias nublados, no inverno, antes das 10 da manhã e depois das 2 da tarde ou em terras de latitude mais alta, onde o filtro de ozônio está seriamente esgotado.” O tolo malvado falou, e continuou. “Rav tem outra rima para saber quando obter ou não obter luz solar: “Se o céu é azul, é para você. Se o céu estiver cinza, fique longe.””
O tolo malvado continuo. “Atenuar uvB com protetor solar enfraquece o sistema imunológico de outras maneiras também. Cortar o uvB impede a pele de produzir níveis saudáveis de vitamina D. A vitamina D aumenta a imunidade celular de combate ao câncer. O protetor solar uvA refratário aumenta o estresse oxidativo e destrói a vitamina D. O protetor solar também bloqueia os fatores gerados pelo sol que capacitam as enzimas que cortam mutações, como os dímeros TT, do DNA. Se o TT-dímero, et al. mutações causam câncer, o protetor solar enfraquecida imunidade celular não pode matá-lo. Protetor solar reduz o nível de energia de uvA & uvB. Isso significa que sua frequência diminui & aumenta seu comprimento de onda para produzir mais radiação infravermelha, IR. A energia infravermelha (IR) é em grande parte energia térmica que não é bem tolerada pelos seres humanos. Esse IR passa para o corpo do usuário de protetor solar.”
“Quer dizer que também causa outros problemas.” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Alguma malignidade, a transformação neoplásica das células, é causada por antigos vírus incorporados e outros genes que trabalham em conjunto com a radiação ultravioleta, (uv), e infravermelho, IR. Estes vírus e outros scripts lisogênicos esfoliar do ADN em resposta ao calor e uv. Algumas dessas cadeias genéticas também codificam para proteínas de choque térmico que pode vêm de tomando chuveiros quentes depois de um banho de sol em um dia nublado. O mais sabão dentro a água quente mais a vitamina D é lavada também de sua pele.”
“Por que os médicos não nos explicam esses fatos? Eles acham que somos estúpidos demais para entender?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Muitos fazem, e muitos mais não se importam com muito mais do que o que você pode entregar a eles por meio de caedere riqueza.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nem todos eles pensam que você é estúpido. Muitos estão aterrorizados que você vai ver através de seu con. A maioria, entretanto, não sabe a verdade eles mesmos, porque as escolas médicas não ensinam o pensamento crítico. Eles enfatizam a memorização da doutrina farmacêutica, regimes químicos e jargões. Eles lançam biologia e fisiologia sob o ônibus. Interessado mais na linha inferior, eles preferem alimentá-lo venenos, como flúor. Eles querem mantê-lo doente, cortá-lo para torná-lo fraco e dependente, e gastar sua energia em suas “boas intenções”. Quantas vezes você já ouviu a notícia e mídia de entretenimento mentirosos falando negativamente sobre agarrando médicos, protetor solar, ou tomar banho em água quente e sabão? ”
“Nunca.”
“Muito pode ser atribuído à ignorância simples, mas a inter-relação entre predadores humanos é legião, altamente suspeito, e não coincidência.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Os médicos são como advogados, presos em desfortunados em momentos como sua vítima humana é mais vulnerável.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Verdade.” O tolo malvado concordou. “Antes que eles avaliem suas taxas, os predadores profissionais olham primeiramente para ver quanto problema a pobre seiva está dentro, como medo ele ou são, ou como grande seu ou seu banco é. Os predadores profissionais podem não ter começado como criaturas fracas. Eles podem, ao mesmo tempo, antes de se transformaram em parasitas, queriam reduzir o sofrimento e a servidão penal. Muito poucos, talvez, jamais saberão que Rockefeller, Rothschild e os bancos predatórios, em geral, controlam sua genuflexão à cega ganância dessas profissões de ouro.”
“Você realmente acha que isso importaria?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Provavelmente não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Caedere ganho exige os aficionados médicos e legais fazer a licitação destes Mefistófeles brotamento. Alguns profissionais descobrem, tarde demais, que se tornaram a antítese de suas aspirações originais. A cidade-bêbado médico cenário vem imediatamente à mente. Na realidade, muito provavelmente enterrar seus escrúpulos vivos e viver dia a dia completamente alheio às vidas que ajudam a ruína.
“Como chegamos a esse ponto?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Foi um entendimento mútuo, no início.” O tolo malvado disse. “Doentios era na maior parte ignorante da biologia e quis abusar de seus corpos. Sendo constitutivo em nosso DNA para sobreviver, o suicídio não é um gracejar fácil para finagle. O suicídio lento de excessos, TV, drogas, álcool, crime e outros fraquezas é muito mais fácil. Quando eles ficaram doentes, eles queriam alívio. Médicos, imaginando que sabiam o que estavam fingindo agindo como sabiam, tentaram ajudar. Provavelmente estaria tudo bem se um superpredador não tivesse vindo. Para construir sua fraude farmacêutica e aumentar seu cache de riqueza caedere, Rockefeller pegou hegemonia sobre as faculdades de medicina.”
“Simples matemática depois disso.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Imagine o quanto o sofrimento e a morte foram causados apenas pelo engano de HIV-SIDA.” O tolo malvado disse. “Imagine todas as pilhas de dinheiro caedere que tem sido arrebatado pelo vendedor ambulantes de produtos químicos da SIDA. Em seguida, estimar quanto dinheiro, miséria e morte todas as outras fraudes médicas apanhar.”
“Não é uma pequena quantia, tenho certeza.” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “Especialmente quando você adiciona na tomada do hospital e os hospícios.”
“Não se esqueça dos predadores interconectados, como companhias de seguros, administradores de papelada, fabricantes de equipamentos de laboratório, mídia, etc.,” disse o tolo malvado. ” Médicos e advogados são como esporos de fungos. Se eles conseguirem seus tubos de germoplasma dentro de você. . . como com advogados, banqueiros, e prisões . . . quando os médicos conseguem suas garras presas, a saída para a vítima é praticamente sempre fatal. Apenas um padre pode salvar a presa, por um preço, com zombificação prostituída. Os profissionais continuam explorando e parasitando seus semelhantes, engolindo o amontoado de racionalizações que as neuroses transacionais e o estabelecimento médico e jurídico estabelecem para sua leitura e seleção final. O eufemismo com o qual eles se sentem mais confortáveis serve o propósito. A escolha favorita, é claro, é “intenção”. “É preciso compreender o bom médico (advogado) da” intenção “antes de criticar,” vai a lengalenga. O comportamento convencional do médico e sua maneira de lado da cama facilmente se presta a ser considerado como uma pessoa humana desejosa de aliviar o sofrimento de outro, apesar dos danos corolários. A fraude transacional magicamente absolve toda culpa mercenária, ou seja, o doentio quer acreditar no médico e o médico NÃO PODE, NÃO OUSAR, desconfiar de si mesmo. Ironicamente, a receita ótima para a profissão de “cura” é uma panaceia.”
“E as vacinas?” Perguntou o vendedor.
“Venenos e vírus que podem causar mutações e câncer estão incluídos na maioria das vacinas.” O tolo malvado disse. “É um milagre que não haja mais baixas. Os grandes fabricantes de vacinas (Pfizer, Merck, Sanofi, GlaxoSmithKline, Gates, etc.) far-nos-iam acreditar que são gloriosamente incompetentes ou diabolicamente “imunes”.
“Esses ingredientes são absolutamente necessários para a tarefa?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.

Capítulo Quinze
“Não sei se existem estratégias de vacinas inócuas disponíveis. À primeira vista, a partir de dados históricos que eu li, parece ser simples industrial lassitude & incompetência.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se esses venenos e contaminando víruses não são ingredientes necessários, e a intenção é ser diabólico, os fabricantes de vacinas provaram que podem subverter e explorar, efetivamente, o desejo natural das pessoas de serem protegidas da doença.”
“Muito verdadeiro.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Você se lembra da paralisia infantil. . . Pólio?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Sim.”
“A maioria da pólio foi causada por mães ignorantes e bem-intencionadas, esfregando seus filhos vulneráveis a ela com água morna e com sabão.” O tolo malvado disse. “Lavaram todos os óleos protetores da pele da criança e a vitamina D, e o vírus ganhou acesso mais fácil. Em seguida, veio Salk e construiu uma vacina que reduziu os casos de forma dramática, mas infectou muitas crianças com vírus contaminantes, como o SV-40, que sobraram do processo de fabricação de vacinas. Então, como Bill Gates mostrou na Índia e na África, voluntariamente ou não, as vacinas podem ser usadas como mecanismos de entrega para a introdução sub-reptícia de tragédia e doença.”
“Por que ele quer fazer isso, você acha?” Pediu o vendedor ambulante.
“Esse sub-humano bilionário, o predador Bill Gates, é racista e vem de uma longa linha de racistas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Ele efetivamente capitalizou o presente dos políticos da SSA para os fabricantes de vacinas. Estes fornecedores de morte agora têm imunidade, por Lei Federal SSA, de acusação por assassinato intencional de destinatários de vacina. Gates foi bastante bem-sucedido na vacina – matando muitos dos inimigos tribais de seu antepassado, os Africanos negros indígenas e os Caucasianos de pele escura.
“Eu me pergunto quantas crianças foram assassinadas por suas vacinas.” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“O controle populacional e a eugenia são conceitos terríveis para os religiosos e incorrigivelmente ignorantes.” O tolo malvado disse. “Especialmente quando a insidiosa contrapropaganda dos religiosos tem sido disseminada por décadas.”
“Isso é verdade.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“É concebível que os fabricantes de vacinas e seus banqueiros se tornaram frustrados com tal ignorância intencional. Talvez eles sintam que é necessário experimentar em crianças saudáveis, juntamente com as aberrações e doentes terminais? “O tolo malvado disse. “Símias são apenas ratos de laboratório para eles, de qualquer maneira. Criamos como animais mudos. Parece que essa é a razão pela qual a fraternidade predadora não estão limpando Fukushima & Chernobyl ou desmantelamento de todas as usinas nucleares. Eles estão deixando a indústria infernal experimentar em nós, enquanto também destruindo a humanidade devagar, mas inexoravelmente. Eles estão deixando a indústria infernal experimentar em destruir a humanidade lentamente, mas inexoravelmente. Um dia, será uma devastação completa. Qualquer pessoa que tenha alguma coisa a ver com a criação de energia ou armas nuclear é um superpredador e absolutamente sem valor positivo.”
“Com seus recursos, os superpredadores poderiam limpar tecnologia nuclear completa a bagunça.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Com seus recursos e os recursos dos outros predadores que ajudam e promovem tais esforços, então poderiam realmente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Por que destruir o resto da vida planetária enquanto isso?”
“Despesa.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Caedere riqueza.” O tolo malvado concordou.
“Você mencionou os advogados.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “O segundo grupo de predadores organizados é o estabelecimento legal, advogados e juízes. Esses predadores são parasitas de interpretação. ”
“Eles traduzem leis em linguagem que os leigos entendem?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles traduzem a realidade em símbolos de sua escolha, que não correspondem ao simbolismo linguístico normal análogo. Eles fingem discutir sobre a interpretação colocada sobre esses símbolos, e lançar a realidade sob o ônibus. Bem, mais de metade de todas as questões legais não são respondidas pelo sistema atual, deixando as vítimas de tais questões desprovidas de ajuda. A lei biológica é dada muito pouco aviso ou lugar. Os precedentes arcaicos e os costumes mais antigos, misturados com a sanção pública básica, geram veículos representativos infinitos para os advogados explorarem. Essas ideologias anãs sofisticadas são truncadas ainda mais e forçadas em um molde que beneficia o tR$apaceiR$o, o júR$iR$ta, o advogado de acuR$ação $ e o R$iRStema pR$iR$ional. Mais do que qualquer outro anátema, a Lei Escrita institucionaliza a injuR$tiça.”
“Como é isso?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“A Lei Escrita evita ou perverte a o Direito Biológico. É suporta o maus tratos daqueles com menores quantidades de caedere riqueza (pobres) por aqueles com maiores quantidades de caedere riqueza (ricos).” O tolo malvado disse. “Se a posse de caedere riqueza significa aptidão natural para sobreviver seria tudo bem. Isso NÃO é o que ele significa. Não há correlação. O objetivo da Lei Escrita é a apoteose da morte e o avanço da riqueza caedere, poder e um paraíso epicurista para um seleto poucos. Esse fim é alcançado todos os dias por mais e mais superpredadores.”
“Mas a Lei Escrita é dita para fazer exatamente o oposto daquilo que você mantém.” O vendedor ambulante advertiu.
“Sim. Ouvi o mesmo barulho.” O tolo malvado disse. “A lei escrita serve os ricos o suficiente para manipulá-la. As palavras, Verdade, Justiça, Honra, Liberdade, Virtude, Integridade, Beleza, etc. são como outros símbolos deformados no sofisma. Eles servem como caprichos sem sentido e besteiras para a profissão de advogado, porque um advogado pode truncar e traí-los até o ponto onde todos podem ser substituídos por caedere riqueza. A pompa da profissão de advogado faz com que as aspirações humanas sejam ridicularizadas pela excelência. A Lei Escrita e o sistema judicial são formas de caedere-riqueza inspirada selvageria, sobreposta à brutalidade. A selvageria só pode ser superada, se é possível superar, pela educação e objetivos voltados para criatividade e qualidade. A brutalidade parece refratária a tudo. Só porque um bando de médicos ou advogados têm mais infra-estrutura e recursos do caedere para apoiar seus jogos con não deve significar que eles têm mais direito à impunidade do que é são hordas de assassinos e estupradores estatutários. A sociedade mantém classes inteiras desses credenciado predadores, lucrando com a idéia insana de que, ao torturar algumas de Suas criaturas, o Homem pode forçar a Natureza a compensar seu capricho. A servidão penal nunca realizará nada positivo.”
“Mas a alternativa.” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“E a alternativa?” Perguntou o tolo malvado. “Se a sociedade já não pode estômago as criaturas que eles constroem, em seguida, matar essas criaturas, imediatamente, mas com um pedido de desculpas não como punição para algum mal imaginado espreita dentro deles. E, só porque médicos, advogados e banqueiros são melhores assassinos, fraudes, traidores, mentirosos e fraudes do que estupradores não significa que eles também estão mais qualificados para viver ou controlar as contingências com as quais os outros vivem. A camuflagem não é a única seta de Seleção Natural na aljava da natureza.”
“Então, você permitiria que estupradores e ladrões continuassem com suas vidas, como se nunca tivessem cometido um crime?” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Absolutamente não!” O tolo malvado disse. “Se eu não fosse como você, um covarde ganancioso, eu os mataria assim que eu pudesse pegá-los. Mas, eu também sentir que eu tinha o direito de matar qualquer predadores, o miscreant pode contratar ou fazer com que seja contratado. Os predadores de esgoto-natação como advogados, promotores públicos e juízes enxameiam outros símios predadores como moscas em torno de merda. Infelizmente, não há inseticidas que visam advogados, juízes e pols.”
“Você não vai convencer muitas pessoas de sua opinião!” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Claro que não!” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Menos de um mil de um por cento do gênero Homo tem o conhecimento de biologia que é necessário para ser tão qualificado como um rato para a vida. Eu não estou tentando ganhar uma eleição aqui com você. Eu não tenho absolutamente nenhum desejo de aclamação pública. Kudos do simios não são nada bem para mim. Eu sei o quão rápido eles podem se voltar para a censura. Kudos e censura, sentimentos da multidão, estão na mesma areia movediça, capricho sem sentido. Eles representam nada além de medo e dor para mim. Estou tentando ensinar você e eu algo sobre nossa arrogância, covardia, e ignorância. Estou chegando, talvez muito longe, no meu sonho de excelência. Talvez algum dia voltemos para este planeta e estejamos em uma posição, tendo aliviado algum sofrimento.”
“E você é tão inteligente?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não. Sou um tolo malvado. Como você vai aprender alguma coisa de um ser humano que não é considerado um tolo malvado?” O tolo malvado perguntou, e continuou. “Na natureza, muitos animais tornam-se estressados. Mães muitas vezes matam e comem os seus jovens. A natureza oferece essa opção como um antídoto, uma alternativa, uma ação de alívio de pressão para a demência permanente do reprodutor e / ou a morte. Quantos forums de coelhos existem para punir a mãe coelho, tomada em assassinato intencional de seus jovens? Será que eles acusá-la com o crime de assassinato e canibalismo? Com que frequência e um pato com tensao processada por tentativa de estupro por mordiendo as penas de uma pata de santitimonius recalcitrante? Ridículo!”

“Claro.” Respondeu o vendedor ambulante.
“Qualquer pai que mata intencionalmente seu filho está ferindo além da descrição.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles nunca fariam tal coisa se não fossem perturbados, possível de agonia. Sabemos muito pouco sobre nossa própria consciência. Como podemos presumir julgar os motivos de outro? O incorrigível patife precisa de uma morte rápida, não de castigo. No entanto, o sistema legal pula diretamente para ajuizar, explorar, e enscravar sua grave fraqueza.”
“Você absolveria tais criminosos de culpa ?!” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Absolutamente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Ataques selvagens e morte intencional de outro ocorrem em todas as formas de vida, não é?”
“Acho que sim.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu.
“Eles fazem.” O tolo malvado disse. “Toda a criação deixa a natureza ser o árbitro final. No entanto, o homem sente que ele é mais sábio do que a natureza. Ele busca agredir um cartel de parasitas legais punindo vítimas entropia e ganhando compensação via resposta sádica à tragédia natural. Como você acha que os advogados definem Common Law? Eles dizem que vem de estatutos, sanções públicas, e precedentes. A Lei Escrita é assim sendo influenciada pelo Estado e fermentada regra da multidão. Julgamento e castigo só agradam aos incorrigivelmente ignorantes e religiosos. O desejo de um grande bruto no ombro, pronto para intimidar os humanos até o joelho, existe em todos os políticos, advogados, banqueiros e policiais. Você acha que ele para por aí? Isso não! O castigo institucionalizado só cria mais assaltos e produz mais dor do que teria sido sem intervenção.”
“Eu não sei.” O vendedor ambulante pediu.
“Claro que você não sabe.” O tolo malvado disse. “Você está com medo de saber. Saber significaria, se você tivesse uma onça de sensibilidade, você pode sentir alguma responsabilidade para efetuar mudanças. Você é tão fraco quanto uma pessoa religiosa, escondida atrás de um valentão imaginário que o protege da responsabilidade. ”

“Foda-se!”
“Obrigado pela oferta, mas prefiro as mulheres, e me prometem.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Fofa.”
“A ignorância é o inimigo.” O tolo malvado disse. “A covardia é o inimigo. Apatia, arrogância, e fragilidade são o inimigo. A educação é a cura. A missão é a cura.”
“E responsabilidade?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Eu cobri isso.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se você não pode sonhar com uma solução, e trabalhar para realizá-la, você nunca saberá responsabilidade.”
“É isso aí?” Gritou o vendedor ambulante.
“É isso aí. A coragem de sonhar.” O tolo malvado disse. “Como uma espécie, devemos acreditar que quando as pessoas sabem por que uma ação não é garantida, eles vão parar o comportamento errante. A punição é desnecessária. Ele nos divide e nos torna fracos vis a vis os superpredadores. Na condição humana, a eliminação do comportamento do malfeitor é apenas e a única defesa pessoal. Ostracismo é uma ferramenta de custódia. A prisão é uma brutalidade criminal. Homicídio é uma ferramenta de custódia. A pena capital é um crime contra a humanidade.”
“Semântica!” Respondeu o vendedor ambulante.
O tolo malvado apenas encolheu os ombros e serviu-se de mais cerveja. O vendedor ambulante observou-o fazer isso e depois disse. ”Você estava explicando por que os advogados são predadores.”
“Sim. Eu estava.” O tolo malvado disse. “As pessoas dividem suas vidas em segmentos de tempo. O tempo, para a maioria das pessoas, pode ser livremente conversível em dinheiro e riqueza caedere. Mas, o tempo é também uma parte integral de, e o dinheiro é um símbolo de a vida de um homem honesto. Quando você rouba seu dinheiro suado você, efetivamente, rouba parte de sua vida. Se você rouba o suficiente, mate-o ou deixe-o sem vida significativa. No entanto, o estabelecimento legal, uma construção bancária estatal Rothschild, proíbe um homem honesto de procurar sua própria escolha de “reparação” ou “justiça”. Provavelmente porque todo o mundo humano, se soubessem a verdade, se uniriam e entregariam a família Rothschild e todas as outras dinastias bancárias à guilhotina. Tanto quanto posso ver, se alguém faz algo violento contra você, como roubá-lo, eles lhe devem uma dívida. Você deve ser capaz de coletar o que você sente que deve. Você não deve ter um advogado ou fazer uma queixa. Caveat emptor – cuidado o comprador. Se um malvado cometeu um crime, um delito, um assalto de algum tipo contra você. Então, esse malvado em vigor comprou sua resposta, seja qual for a resposta que seja. O malvado selou seu próprio destino quando optou por “comprar” o ato criminoso. Onde um monte de capoeira trapaceiros, com o estado nas costas, saia dizendo que só eles têm o direito de “jogar Deus” e punir a ofensa? É a vítima que fica no banco do credor. Somente o credor tem o direito de absolver e definir o preço da absolvição da dívida.”
“Tomando a lei em suas próprias mãos.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Justiça Vigilante!”
“”Faça você mesmo.” A justiça não foi tão ruim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Havia erros, mas era melhor do que ir sem justiça, como devemos hoje, onde apenas os ricos se beneficiam da Lei. Se você pudesse encontrar a sua honestidade perdida, você também poderia admitir que o que temos hoje com “Regra de Lei Escrita” não é efetivamente melhor do que justiça vigilante. Eu ouso dizer que o que temos agora é muito mais pior. Quantas pessoas estão em gaiolas de estado hoje, porque tentaram evitar colidindo em genocídios em todo o mundo, pagando impostos como dinheiro de sangue para facilitar as implementações de armas de Rothschild? Há um milhão de pessoas na penitenciária porque descobriram que tinham uma folha proibida no bolso. Não havia absolutamente nenhuma predação envolvida em seu “crime”. Superpredadores tornaram a folha ilegal para pegar os símios e torná-los escravos no complexo da prisão. Por que a raça humana não ataca e mata as corporações que fizeram a situação, aliviando seus amigos da servidão involuntária? Eu vou te dizer por quê. Irresponsabilidade! Hoje, o escalão inferior das classes não tem chance. Eles estão condenados! O pobre homem deve confiar no estado predatório, pagando a um predador sancionado para obter reparação por ele. Como todos os aficionados da “Lei”, os exploradores legais levam os atos de um homem fora de contexto com a vida, torcendo as palavras da presa contra ele. Independentemente dos fatos, das circunstâncias atenuantes e da vida positiva anterior do acusado, o acusado é “recompensado” ou “punido” pela percepção do curtir que o advogado apresenta ao tribunal e os preconceitos do juR$R$ta. Com seu dinheiro, seu sangue de fato, o homem honesto deve enrolar os bolsos de um advogado ladrão e de um juiz. Ele deve pagar um depravado para ganhar um ersatz “justiça” ou “conselho” em um tribunal corrupto de lei para se impedir de uma violação financeira institucionalizada, prisão e / ou violência contra sua pessoa.” O tolo malvado disse. “A propaganda predadora, os políticos, e o estabelecimento legal deram justiça vigilante um imerecido mau nome.”
“Melhor que dez culpados sejam livres. . .” O vendedor ambulante citado.

Capítulo Dezesseis
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “E isso é exatamente o que aconteceu! Agora estamos vivendo sob o jugo daqueles libertos dez culpados. Dez caedere ricos predadores foram livres depois de estuprar um honesto, inocente, pobre miserável! Levado ao limite e somado, significa que você agora olha para acima a SEA, Sionistas Estados da América, um governo de demônios, fraudes e superpredadores. Nesse meio tempo, apenas para escapar do laço, o desgraçado deve pagar ao matador licenciado. É mais fácil para o homem rico, culpado ou inocente, fazer isso? Eu me pergunto. Homens honestos devem pagar ladrões para serem ouvidos por um jurista corrupto, a fim de sobreviver a ser humilhado, roubado, preso, escravizado, ou morto pelo estado predatório. Os advogados têm uma hegemonia sobre “verdade” e “justiça”. Eles têm um monopólio de “reparação” e “punição”. Advogados e outros trapaceiros profissionais, como juízes e políticos, roubam a vida de um homem quando o enganam de seu dinheirão. Ele não tem outro recurso a não ser aceitar o veredicto da rapazmente raquete de proteção corrupta do estado, seus tribunais do governo. Ricos ou pobres, aqueles ligados a superpredadores slide. Muitos poucos pobres estão bem conectados.”

“Então, os advogados roubam R$ = tempo = vida.” O vendedor ambulante resumiu.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Isso é certo. O saqueador legal, efetivamente, mata o cliente, dólar por dólar, minuto a minuto, peça por peça. Outra variedade de trapaceiro profissional pode enganar e roubar o dinheiro de uma pessoa. Se ele é pego roubando, ele corre para seu irmão em predação, o advogado. Aqui, paga uma porcentagem de seu roubo, como uma despesa do negócio, para a exoneração. Esta forma de engrandecimento pessoal é bastante popular em terras onde a Lei Escrita oprime. É tão bem-sucedido que pessoas estúpidas, bem comercializado, sem escrúpulos, podem até se tornar presidentes da SEA. Eles fazem seus advogados e especialistas em fraudes ministros de gabinete, juízes e tal. Tem sido assim há décadas na SEA. Desde Eisenhower, os presidentes estão ficando cada vez mais corruptos, perpetrando cada vez mais crime contra a humanidade. Aqueles que votaram por ou contra tais demônios são acessórios para os crimes de guerra que os votos-putas cometem em seu nome. Os advogados e a brutalidade sanitizada que administram impõem a impunidade a eles a um preço terrível – o sangue de seus filhos. Os advogados reduzem tudo de verdadeiro valor a um símbolo de caedere de sua interpretação pervertida, geralmente dinheiro, papel de fiat. Outros sistemas de retribuição são ocultos, estritamente controlados, ou proibidos. Os tribunais facilitam assim o monopólio do establishment legal sobre a predação do Estado.”
“E o crime?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Exceto o crime político, que é sempre lucrativo se você estiver conectado, crimes capitais são geralmente perpetrados por pessoas apanhadas em um turbilhão de emoções e restrições conflitantes.” O tolo malvado disse. “Violência gratuita representa apenas uma das muitas bateduras sobre em agonia que ocorre como a vítima criminosa tenta escolher o menor dos males. É um pouco do sofrimento que se apresenta na condição humana. Os criminosos castigar muito mais do que qualquer sociedade poderia fazer, especialmente depois que a gravidade da ofensa lixiviar em sua consciência ao longo do tempo. Mas, a sociedade não tem tempo ou paciência para lixiviar. Além disso, não há maneira de desfazer um crime mais do que não está desfazendo qualquer ato. É outra das características bizarras que habitam a condição humana. A maioria das pessoas assassinadas merecem seu destino e são enviadas em um momento de oportunidade e / ou irracionalidade. Mas, quem realmente se importa? Culpa jogando é sempre uma questão de perspectiva.”
“Você não está estereotipando?” O vendedor ambulante criticou.
“Sim. Eu sou.” O tolo malvado admitiu.
“Você não sabe que os estereótipos são. . .” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Os estereótipos nunca são corretamente corretos matematicamente, mas eles tendem a estar em erro apenas raramente. Uma pessoa inteligente negligencia a sabedoria contida no cinismo e nos quase-absolutos em perigo pessoal.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “O que castrados é a apatia que pode resultar de uma proximidade muito próxima ao cínico.”
“Oh.”
“A sociedade não pode permitir que os crimes de pessoas politicamente desconectadas sejam ignorados, por razões óbvias,” disse o tolo malvado. “Os promotores são predadores legais politicamente conectados que se envolvem por ganância impiedosa com a punição de vítimas símias. Amam a uma sociedade fraca, covarde, ignorante e vingativa. A punição institucionalizada parece ser uma invenção símia única que só contribui para o sofrimento mundial. O hoi polloi não é dado ao pensamento crítico ou sentimento claramente. Eles deixam o medo empurrá-los para capacitar os predadores sádicos punitivos, chamados de procuradores de distrito ou promotores. Esses parasitas perseguem puramente por motivos de lucro político ou pelos prazeres maliciosos que derivam do castigo. O sistema garante mais angústia no mundo do que seria sem essas pragas legais babando. Eliminando essas profissões seria um passo na direção da civilização iluminada.”
“Tem sido sugerido que podemos tentar ter alguma simpatia por predadores que são vítimas de pouca inteligência e educação pobre.” O vendedor disse.
“Como advogados, promotores?” Disse o tolo malvado, deliberadamente mal interpretando o que o vendedor falhou. “Simpatia levando onde? Uma palavra de cautela está em ordem. A simpatia por predadores, como advogados e policiais, vindos de famílias nucleares fraturadas, poderia ser uma formação de hábitos, estendendo-se inclusive a patifes de boa-fé. A sociedade não pode pagar tanta generosidade, criando crianças com amor, esperando que criminosos fermentem seus sentimentos de culpa. A maioria dos advogados tem deficiências cerebrais e mal educação que condená-los a crescer familiarizado apenas com camuflagem de símio natural – fraude, traição, mentira e trapaça. Eles não têm alternativa ao parasitismo. Os médicos não têm tanta sorte. Praticamente todos os médicos possuem excelentes memórias e estudaram biologia. Suas outras desvantagens cognitivas óbvias não são justificativas para a impunidade. Eles sabem que a maioria das suas prescrições e cirurgias são insalubres, hediondos e predatórios. Remover ou reformar predadores, seja qual for a sua persuasão, pode permitir indivíduos mais fortes, capazes de aceitar aspirações “humanos”, para atuar como modelos de ser humano.”
“Lei é como uma rede. Pega peixes pequenos, mas os grandes quebram através dele e escapam.” O vendedor citou de alguém.
“Espero que você tenha realmente tirado esse significado da minha pequena crítica. Em nosso mundo, hoje, alguém erra, expõe um aspecto de sua humanidade. Os demônios legais o vilipendiam, o guardavam com macacos e o sujeitavam a todas as provocações e piadas do que poderia ter sido. Em seguida, os minis demônios, os eleitores, maravilham-se com o tipo de curiosidades espirituais que produziram quando experimentam esses indivíduos psicologicamente estuprados retornando à sociedade. Se não maltratando a sociedade, de tal modo que os advogados usam a lei de outras maneiras para perpetrar todo tipo de injustiça predatória imaginável.” O tolo malvado disse. “A única alternativa para a justiça vigilante e advogados ladrões está na Comunidade de Consenso, CoCs.”
“Então, você não aprova prisões?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“As prisões não servem para além da punição sádica e da exploração predatória.” O tolo malvado disse. “É por isso que eu considero o estabelecimento prisional como o terceiro grupo de predadores da humanidade. Eu poderia colocar essa categoria dentro das organizações legais ou estatais parasitas. Mas, os penitenciareis, por si só, têm presa sobre centenas de milhões de pessoas ao longo das últimas décadas. Após a escravidão da banca fraccionada, a escravidão condenada é o próximo melhor exemplo, temos hoje, de servidão involuntária. Até mesmo a Constituição dos EUA sorri sobre ele. É por isso que dou contemporâneo organizada servidão involuntária um título próprio. Uma porcentagem da cidadania de cada estado é sempre encarcerada. Estes são virtualmente os mais pobres entre os pobres, cujas vidas não servem para o Estado, até que entrem no mundo dos bares. Os predadores licenciados e o próprio sistema controlam a taxa na qual eles entram. Os mesmos predadores de matrícula determinam quanto tempo cada patife será escravizado. A burocracia envolvida no encarceramento está interconectada inextricavelmente com o estado e sistema legais. Os advogados e juízes usam o músculo legal do enforcamento do estado para prender vítimas individuais na rede Escrito da Lei. As vítimas do matadouro são processadas na boca aberta da punição, enquanto o estado e os sistema legais trituram, fermentam e extraem o lote diurno de carne fresca.”
“Se você não pode pagar o suborno, não faça o crime.” O vendedor ambulante brincou.
“Só muito verdadeiro.” O tolo malvado disse. “Despojo que não pode ou não vai pagar o suficiente para subornar o juiz desprezível, promotor e advogado ir para a cadeia. O sistema prisional, tanto privado quanto governamental, é uma predação organizada. Guardiões, guardas, prisioneiros seletos, políticos, criminosos, fornecedores, beneficiários, investidores, empreiteiros, advogados, grupos de liberdade condicional, religiosos e consumidores de produtos prisionais são partes individuais da exploração. Nas prisões, privadas e públicas, os condenados são pagos praticamente nada, mas valem para seus captores um salário anual comparável ao de um funcionário, datilógrafa, agente de compras, etc. a cada ano. O sistema prisional é apenas superficialmente desligado da infraestrutura jurídica que coloca os patifes dentro de seu alcance. Caedere riqueza unites the system, como faz todos os predadores. Os juízes são pagos adicionais para dar sentenças severas por ofensas menores. Os advogados têm controle virtualmente completo sobre quanto sangramento a presa do prisioneiro faz para os outros predadores. Sangrento é atribuído pelo capricho de um advogado-juiz-pol. O penitenciária é uma caricatura evolução da Ordem Mundial Sionista. Um estado de penetração, semelhante à Palestina ocupada por Rothschild, é o modelo prototípico para o próximo estado planetário totalitário. Os advogados fazem as leis, interpretam as leis, administram as leis e colocam aqueles na prisão que, eles sentem, não merecem liberdade por aqueles leis. É uma grande farsa, e funciona muito bem para enriquecer o rebanho legal. A penetração é uma caricatura evolutiva da Ordem Mundial Sionista (OMS). Um estado penetentiario de OMS, semelhante à Palestina ocupada de Rothschild, é o modelo prototípico para o próximo estado totalitário planetário.”

“Onde os sacerdotes se encaixam?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“A religião organizada é o quarto grupo de grandes predadores humanos que eu quero mencionar.” O tolo malvado disse. “Enquanto o homem existir, alguns símios desejaram parecer mais conhecedores do que seus companheiros. Desde que o Homem começou a notar o véu entre a vida e a morte, houve perguntas sobre a vida possível do outro lado do véu. Estas duas características do homem foram uma excelente oportunidade para uma fraude. Xamãs, sacerdotes, médicos e advogados derrubaram essa oportunidade. Religião organizada, sempre uma facada, evoluiu a partir de sonhos de cogumelos, desejos clandestinos de chupar de pênis, e provavelmente alguma adulação de senhores de guerra extraterrestres desviantes ou super-hominídeos precoce. Sacerdotes semíticos instalaram a abominação atual, usando homossexualidade e visões da Amanita muscaria de conversas com pessoas mortas para sua gênese. Possivelmente colocaram-na a nova forma de escravidão no quadro da vacuidade deixada como extraterrestre ou hominídeo rei escravização de símios em evolução dissolvidos.”
“Você acredita em discos voadores também?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante. “Ou você está satisfeito com apenas lançar ásperas sobre Deus e Darwin?
“O que eu tenho a dizer não muda de valor se os superhominídeos, a vida extraterrestre, ou as simulações digitais anteriores aconteceram aqui ou não”. O tolo malvado disse. “Mesmo se você é um fiel crente na religião científica hoje, estas são todas ideias plausíveis. Não se pode negar a existência de dados, artefatos e proezas de engenharia que negam muitas das crenças reconhecidas da religião da ciência de hoje. A religião da ciência contemporânea ainda não pode responder às questões mais importantes da existência. A religião da ciência impede possíveis caminhos para conhecimentos valiosos através da proscrição da educação necessária. Existem muitas descobertas arqueológicas inconvenientes. A religião da ciência e o misticismo impedem a satisfação de explicações plausíveis de como chegamos. As mais místicas e algumas das explicações antropológicas atuais são pura besteira. Por que ainda devemos suportar os adoradores da morte é a questão mais importante. Estou simplesmente postulando uma explicação mais razoável para a imagem desarmonizada que temos da documentação Suméria, as 11.600 BCE estruturas do Oriente Médio, grupos sanguíneos rh negativos e a outra panóplia esmagadora de evidências arqueológicas e questões aparentemente contraditórias. Uma espécie que mantém crença inquestionável em conjecturas infundadas, sem sentido, ou com besteira religiosa, ou com ciência má, está em risco. Os místicos macacos e as pessoas psicóticas que empurram Deus e as fraudes do “outro mundo” são atualmente mais do que apenas simples “viciados do cogumelos” arcaicos e predadores pederásticos Semíticos. Os seguidores da morte adivinham num número de bilhões. Um grande número de pessoas demente coletivo pode ter consequências potencialmente devastadoras para o planeta.”
“Então, você acha que evoluímos exclusivamente por seleção Darwiniana?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Eu não descartaria isso, mas a evidência está faltando em ambos os lados do argumento.” O tolo malvado disse. “Na ausência de evidências fósseis em contrário, é melhor recomendarmos considerar o Homo sapiens sapiens de hoje como um possível simulação ou trans-humano híbrido de extra-terrestre e hominídeo mais primitivo.”
“Bem. Eu não vejo como isso nos faz criados à imagem de Deus.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Mas, não ajuda muito o argumento da seleção natural Darwiniana.”
“Você está certo em ambos os lados.” O tolo malvado disse. “Embora eu seja um biofísico e não um físico teórico ou atômico, sei que grande parte do pensamento do “universo simulado ” baseia-se em experimentos de duas fendas de segunda e terceira geração. Nessas experimentos, grande parte do “efeito observador” na explicação do “colapso da função de onda em uma partícula” pode ser devido a controles defeituosos na construção experimental. Os experimentadores podem deixar de separar e isolar adequadamente a medida afeta ou considera o imperceptível comprimento de onda crescente devido à interferência magnética do ângulo recto pelo “observador”. Se a luz é composta de níveis de energia pontuados proporcionais à freqüência, à medida que o comprimento de onda aumenta e diminui, o contínuo da onda de partículas também pode mudar. Se a luz se comporta como uma partícula ou uma onda pode depender da energia que ela contém no momento pré e pós medido. Se assim for, a infra-estrutura da teoria da simulação poderá cair como uma casa de cartas. No entanto, neste momento, outras observações mecânicas quânticas e matemáticas ainda envolvem a teoria da simulação. Assim, a simulação, a engenharia genética extraterrestre, ou a pura biologia Darwiniana são explicações plausíveis para a nossa existência.”
“Você está deixando para fora a explicação bíblica.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim. Eu sou.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Para explicar meu pensamento, eu gostaria de usar a palavra “igreja” para cobrir todas as religiões, igrejas, catedrais, sinagogas, templos ou mesquitas, que englobam e descrevem todos os cultos que adoram a morte. “Igrejas”, como seus edifícios associados, são pavilhões do sem propósito. Vou usar a palavra “Igreja” para representar também todos os enscravidors neo “extra-terrestres” organizados. A “Igreja” servirá como minha palavra para as que querem ser emuladores de despotismos hidráulicos agro-gerenciais. Em vez de trabalho de corvee, a “Igreja” exige um dízimo de 10% ou mais do rendimento de suas vítimas a cada ano. É pegou a extorsão como corrução para obter o jurista corrupto “Jeová” para conceder uma vida supostamente zumbi após a morte. Sem sequer a menor evidência, ingênuos palermas e sua vítima coloquem fé em uma promessa de zumbiidade subornado iminente em troca do pagamento de riqueza caedere, ou seja, ouro, ou papel fiat. O dízimo ou corrução celestial pode ser pensado como o sangue simbólico do otário. Defraudar crentes ignorantes em confiar em uma vida após a morte é bastante ruim, mas a predação não termina aí. As “Igrejas” olham para o estado predatório de proteção, e dão 100% de seu apoio subjetivo e moral a essa vil construção de advogados e pols.”
“”Atilia e o Witchdoctor” de Ayn Rand.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Essa analogia é tão eficaz hoje, como foi em aquella do Constantino 325 AD Nicaea.” O tolo malvado disse. “Começando em Nicéia, a Igreja Católica, e por toda sua existência milenar, quase nunca agiu de forma contrária ao estado rapaz. Sua colaboração nasce da necessidade das igrejas de proteção e isenção de impostos. O estado pode estuprar, pilhar e assassinar paroquianos da igreja, e geralmente faz. A igreja, ajudante e cumplicadora, abençoa a pilhagem, encorajando as vítimas a aceitarem o esmagamento do estado, estoicamente. Entre os impostos assassinos de Rothschild e os dízimos da Igreja é quase como acreditar em milagres para aceitar como verdade que a humanidade sobrevive.”
“A igreja quase sempre tomou a perspectiva do estado contra os crentes?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou, surpreso. “Sempre ouvi o oposto.”
“Você ouviu as mesmas mentiras e propaganda que os cidadãos pré-zumbis ouviram e acreditam.” O tolo malvado disse. ” Por que você acha que o imperador Constantino convocou o Conselho de Nicaea? O que torna a mentira duplamente dolorosa é que, após a pilhagem do Estado, a própria igreja engana seus crentes pelo que deixaram oculto do estado. Não termina aí! A fé narcótica que a igreja vende continua a espremer o sangue do crente mesmo depois da morte de suas vítimas junkie. É parasita em suas vítimas posteridade também, tomando virgindades, preferências sexuais, heranças, e legados sem vergonha. ”
“Impostos de herança espiritual.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“As doações são ostensivamente para interceder com o demônio demoníaco de controle sádico e seus sicópteros no céu. A subornação celestial é para extrair uma promessa negotiado para felicidade em favor de um recalcitrante, contra um futuro terrível desesperado, agora em terra de zumbis nunca-nunca.” O tolo malvado disse. “Todas estas atrocidades acima mencionadas ainda não são as piores. Uma fonte freqüentemente negligenciada de estupro-enslavada é como a igreja diabólica roubará a liberdade espiritual dos filhos dos paroquianos. Pode levar de 20 anos a uma vida inteira para as pessoas se livrarem do narcótico da crença covarde supersticiosa em absurdos místicos irresponsáveis. Que idéia poderia ser mais desonravel, masoquista, escravizante e pusilânime do que aquela que essas religiões do “outro mundo” vendem? Alguns simios nunca são libertados e continuam acreditando no estrume místico até que a segunda morte os leve. Pensamentos, sonhos, pesadelos e medos de uma suposta vida após a morte, zumbi, condenação eterna em um lago de fogo, etc. assombram inocentes durante toda a vida, até a terceira e quarta geração dos verdadeiros crentes.”
“Realmente bizarro.” O vendedor ambulante concordou.
“É difícil aceitar como qualquer coisa pode ser mais tola do que acreditar em ter um lugar reservado para um em uma vida após a morte com base em ter comprado um predador auto servindo prevaricação.” O tolo malvado disse, e continuou. “Ter aquela posição ganhada por caedere dinheiro e ter algo em seu bolso chamado “fé” é ainda mais louco. Os otários religiosos, no entanto, acreditam exatamente nisso. Eles aceitam, como fato, que podem alcançar a vida eterna se pagam dinheiro e têm fé, acreditam, em um Deus ou na capacidade do filho de Deus para lhes conceder zumbi. O único lugar lógico reservado a essas vítimas, em qualquer outro lugar, seria um asilo insano.”
“As igrejas vão fazer.” O vendedor ambulante disse.

Capítulo Dezessete
“Ter nossa racionalidade mortal e conduta à mercê dos caprichos de uma solução de sal cerebral é bastante ruim.” O tolo malvado disse. “A capacidade de uma pessoa, por essa racionalidade efêmera, uma consciência amplamente desconhecida, de influenciar algum imaginário celestial demônio em decidir se devemos ter a vida eterna, só poderia tocar num teatro do absurdo. Nosso destino animal, infelizmente, é determinado pela Entropia, simbiontes, e concentrações transitórias de soluto na solução do cérebro em constante reequilíbrio. Não importa se essa solução cerebral cum consciência é mantida dentro do crânio de um crente ou não-crente. Ter esse destino também determinar efeitos eternos por influenciar um monstro místico é realmente esticar uma perna para proporções atrozes.
“Mas o que é realmente surpreendente é que bilhões de pessoas realmente acreditam nisso.” Acrescentou o vendedor ambulante.
“Tal proposição vai muito além do simples ridículo.” O tolo malvado disse. “É talvez gratuito dizer que essa plasticidade de vontade também dificilmente poderia ser qualquer atributo de um governante “justo e amoroso”. Infelizmente, porém, para toda a flora e fauna do planeta, você está certo. Sete bilhões de símios na verdade acreditam em tais lixo. Pergunta-se a quantos dos 1,6 bilhões de Católicos do mundo, a superpredadora hierarquia do Vaticano mataria para tornar o Armageddon das Revelações realidade. Outros predadores que adoram a morte também estão preparados, prontos para queimar todos em uma guerra termonuclear, para provar a validade de suas profecias hediondas. A exploração das igrejas de tais pessoas demente e suas vítimas demente só pode ser descrita como um exemplo de demência usando demência para propagar predação não-biosustentável. ”
“E a Bíblia?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante. “Eles dizem que é um texto sagrado, inspirado por “Deus”.”
“Os predadores religiosos empurrar muitos livros obscenos. A Bíblia, o Talmude, a Torá e o Alcorão são os mais conhecidos.” O tolo malvado disse. “Todos os quatro devem ser inspirados por este “Deus” monstro. Há muitos outros textos, documentos, e tratados antigos disponíveis em relação a esses arquivos de perversão plagiada. A obsessão predadora, repleta de jargão, rituais, e tortura desce para as práticas mais bizarras, reduzindo os crentes a basear a bestialidade, traumatizando, torturando, e matando horrivelmente crianças inocentes. Basta percorrer os “Cânones de Dort” de John Calvin, uma vez, para perceber que tipo de maníacos estão levantando bilhões de crianças de hoje. As náuseas e as profecias religiosas são vomitadas, incessante e projetualmente, por esses pequenos parasitas gordurosos “de Deus”. Ele tem prostituído o Convencional Meios de Comunicação bem como a Internet. Besteira místico é ubíquo em ambos os canais de transmissão. O que torna as crenças humilhantes tão traumáticas é que pode haver vestígios históricos, sobreviventes de civilizações extintas, anteriores à Suméria, incluídos nesses livros ofensivos, aparecendo como evidência de autoridade mística. Incompreendidos, esses remanescentes históricos influenciam os adoradores da morte ainda hoje.”
“E moralidade?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“As pessoas falam de moralidade, até de uma “moralidade superior”, como se tal realidade pudesse surgir. A moralidade objetiva não existe.” O tolo malvado disse. “A menos que sejamos simulações, programadas para respeitar determinadas restrições, a palavra serve como ferramenta manipuladora. O que a maioria das pessoas considera a moralidade é uma imposição condicionada, ilógica, de limites em resposta ao medo. Não há como sermos criaturas tangivelmente morais. A única criatura moral, que já existiu, era cianófita unicelular – consumindo apenas água, luz e ar para existir. Todos os outros organismos não-fotossintéticos e não-saprófitos e vida animal multicelular, todos e cada um de nós, devem roubar e matar para sobreviver e reproduzir o nosso tipo. Estamos rapidamente despachando ao esquecimento qualquer coisa na criação que manifeste até mesmo Biosustainability, ou seja, mesmo uma aparência de moralidade natural.”
“Então, nós devemos ser plantas os cogumelos para sermos morais?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
O tolo malvado não respondeu à pergunta inane do vendedor ambulante, mas disse. “Moralidade é besteira! Não há significado definitivo. Um dia, a Entropia nos transformará em números infinitos de lambuzadas de poeira trêmula. A moralidade natural é a amoralidade para a maioria, e tem ordenado o nosso direito de matar tanto quanto a Natureza criou em nós a capacidade de matar. Não obstante, os pretextos legais do Estado proíbem os cidadãos de estuprar, pilhar e assassinar. Há certamente uma boa quantidade de pragmatismo no interesse do bem-estar individual apresentado lá. As manobras do Estado, no entanto, como a Lei Escrita, são altamente inconsistentes. Especialmente assim, já que essas interdições não são muitas vezes aplicáveis aos servos do estado ou aquelas pessoas na posse de grandes quantidades de caedere riqueza “.
“E o Estado proíbe aqueles atos de violência que são necessários para nos proteger dos perigos da hegemonia estadual.” O vendedor ambulante observou.
“Absolutamente! Além disso, as proscrições estatais de crimes de felonia virtualmente são transformadas em ofuscações sem sentido por um profissional legal bem oleado.” O tolo malvado disse. “A maioria das leis tem a intenção de ser facilmente e inconscientemente quebrado para enganar os pobres, fracos e mal ajustado. Em vez de uma eutanásia rápida e indolor, uma vez que uma lei de capital é violada, os predadores sancionados pelo Estado encontram um amplo ganho ao explorar detestáveis mendigos com punição e escravidão socialmente sancionada. A execução arbitrária de armadilhas inventadas, pelo Estado, só tende a justificar a sangria de aduladores estaduais por parte dos cidadãos em resposta. Nós devemos matar para sobreviver. A entropia exige isso. A questão é. . . quando, onde e como começamos? Mais a propósito, talvez, é quando vamos parar?”
“Como a Entropia o exige?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“A entropia é o poder supremo. Mesmo trilhões de anos atrás, ou mais, quando nada existia senão o vácuo congelado, a Entropia era uma força com a qual ser contada. Estava em zero mensurabilidade, mas sempre lá, esperando, implacável, ubíqua, infinito e constante. A Entropia exige que a termodinâmica o acomode e permita que a desordem aumente. Portanto, para ser mais que constante, a zero mensurabilidade, a Entropia precisava de matéria e energia. A Entropia precisava trazer matéria e energia para a existência.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mesmo se Shakespeare estava certo, e nós somos simulações, de onde veio essa matéria original e energia, se não através da magia da Entropia?”
“Deus?”
“Não há outro deus além de Entropia – Caos.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Postulação de um outro “Deus” apenas propõe duas perguntas onde apenas um tinha anteriormente existia. Você está fazendo o problema mais difícil.”
“Por que não há outro deus além de Entropia?” Perguntou o vendedor.
“Por definição, se qualquer outro deus existisse, Entropia iria eviscerá-lo antes que ele subiu para qualquer proeminência. Os argumentos do proponente do Projeto Inteligente provam que seus partidários são tão pomposamente ignorantes e narcisistas quanto os argumentos para um sistema solar centrado na Terra que seus defensores na antiguidade. A navalha de Occam corta rápido “Deus-Jeová” afora da equação de “Como?”.” O tolo malvado disse e continuou. “Desordem controla TUDO. Se qualquer deus, além da Entropia sem sentido, existe então parece que um maníaco impotente escravizado à Entropia. Também seria uma influência negativa principalmente grave, incapaz de causar e promover pouco além de desordem, dor, destruição e morte.”
“Algo como Vida?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Somente a Vida está fracamente oposta a Entropia.”
“A Vida é inimiga de Deus?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim. Mas, não é de nenhuma maneira sensível da parte da Entropia, e amigo com medo da parte da Vida.” O tolo malvado disse. “Dizer que a vida não tem nenhum significado aparente não é dizer que não tem nenhum valor possível. A ordem que existe na água, e na manifestação da Vida dela, é a única arma que existe contra a Entropia, nosso verdadeiro Deus. A menos que sejamos todos, finalmente, reduzidos a imensuráveis poças de partículas infinitesimalmente pequenas, dançando em guinada espasmódicos Brownian aleatórios, a Vida é a nossa única chance de encontrar significado. Proteger a Vida, maximizar a diversidade de espécies, ao tentar reduzir o sofrimento onipresente, poderia servir como uma aspiração viável. Apesar da negativo imprensa lançada em pessoas com preocupações globais, “Missão Biosustentabilidade”, “Amor da Vida”, continua a ser a única chamada “divina”.”
“Uma religião?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Por que não?” O tolo malvado disse. “”Outro Mundo” religiosos, obviamente, desistiram da Vida, adorando sua antítese. Eles escolhem o ritual, a indiferença, o jargão, a histeria, as psicoses coletivas, a guerra, as democracias, e os símbolos caedere, entre outros, como seus faróis, não uma missão humana. Tanto quanto admitem que suas divindades artificiais são tão dementes como eles. Esses deuses falsos não são nada mais do que selvagens construtos de pesadelos símios e possíveis reminiscências de lembranças vagas de hominídeos ou de senhores extraterrestres. Os religiosos optam por acreditar em um absurdo Dante’esque paraíso pós da morte, com o inferno, a existência do site do qual eles não têm absolutamente a menor indicação ou evidência.”
“A religião é o inferno.” O vendedor ambulante brincou.
“Um ser humano é um macaco com uma missão.” O tolo malvado disse. “Macacos sem missões ou aspirações são subhumanos. Se os seres humanos devem sobreviver, nossas coletivo missões legítimas – ocupações devem ser congruentes com a custódia planetária e objetivos que incluem trabalhar para destruir o Estado.”
“Os seres humanos são uma praga na vida planetária, um vírus.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “E se a missão é a destruição da humanidade?”
“Autoespeciecide?” O tolo malvado disse.
“Sim.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Isso não seria o epítome da biosustentabilidade?”
” Um ser humano especializado em matar humanos, ser humano especificamente?” Perguntou-se o tolo malvado.
“Dá uma nova perspectiva sobre a misantropia, não é?” Disse o vendedor ambulante, com uma reviravolta.
“Se tais seres existem, o que os causaria?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Você precisa perguntar, depois do modo como você estava falando há pouco tempo atrás sobre sua repugnância por coabitar com a raça humana?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou. “Um homem, tendo vivido neste planeta por cerca de cinquenta anos, ainda sendo um amicus humani generis, poderia ser não certificável, mas não é provável. Até Deus tentou matar todos nós uma vez.”
“Ele falhou claramente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, deve haver razão para essa antipatia.”
“Você SABE a razão. Você está apenas tentando não vê-lo.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “E você me chamou intencionalmente ignorante!”
“Eu fiz?”

“Sim. Você me chamou de um valentão repugnante, covarde, superficial, ignorante, escravizado e não sensível valentão!” O vendedor ambulante respondeu.
“Eu preciso ser mais caridoso com minhas acusações.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mesmo que sejam verdadeiras.”
“Sim.” O vendedor ambulante concordou. “Você certamente.”
“Que razão estou tentando não ver?” O tolo malvado perguntou. “Alivia-me do meu fardo de ignorância.”
“Você odeia a raça humana!” O vendedor ambulante respondeu. “Você não vê a contradição?”
“Eu não chamaria isso de uma contradição.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Você não iria !?” O vendedor ambulante gritou. “Você finge que está tentando salvar a raça humana ao odiá-la! O que você chamaria, se não uma contradição?”
“É um paradoxo.” O tolo malvado respondeu fracamente.
“Besteira! Semântica!” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Não. E’ um paradoxo. Não é apenas semântica.” O tolo malvado disse, reunindo força. “Em primeiro lugar, não estou simplesmente fingindo que estou tentando salvar minha espécie. Eu realmente sou! Todas as contradições que você vê são aparentes, não reais.”
“A misantropia, como todo o ódio, brota do medo e você odeia e medo a raça humana tanto quanto todos os outros.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eu acho que a maioria dos símios são criaturas desprezíveis, especialmente os predadores humanos. Só porque a grande maioria são miseráveis desprezíveis não significa que todos são ou que eu não acho que a raça humana vale a pena salvar. Minha posição é paradoxal, não uma contradição.” O tolo malvado reiterou.
“Quando você está considerando números tão grandes, eu não vejo muita diferença.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Isso é porque você é o único que agora estereotipa, e você não tem nenhuma esperança que os seres humanos serão capazes de separar o trigo da palha.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se removemos os superpredadores, e uma boa porção de nossos números parasitas, revivificando o que resta do planeta, podemos nos tornar uma espécie que tem algum valor para o planeta.”
“E o pobre predatório?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“A linha do destino humano é lida na palma dos pobres.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se os CoCs não elevarem os pobres, ambos irão falhar. Se eles falharem, a humanidade falha. A natureza ajudará a nossa sobrevivência.”
“Então.” O vendedor ambulante falhou. “Você está assumindo que tal criatura, um autoespeciecide, existe ou existirá?”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se um símio aceita a biosustentabilidade, a anarquia ou ambos como sua missão, essa criatura não é mais um macaco comum. Não é nem mesmo um ser humano comum, mas é um ser humano extraordinário, um superlativo entre humanos missionados. A principal razão para a diferença de qualidade entre os homens é também infinitamente pessoal – a nossa razão de ser – a sobrevivência. Um motivo secundário, quase igual em importância, porque significa proteger nossas interconexões planetárias, é a sobrevivência de nossos “também corres”.”
“Estou começando a ver sua posição.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Suponho que, se a segunda razão deve ser mais fortemente sentida do que a primeira razão. . ”
“Claramente.” O tolo malvado disse. “. . . Isso causaria uma reação imunológica misantrópica. Tal como é uma possibilidade forte (ou desculpe) algum dia com cyborgs ou inteligência artificial.”
“O maior inimigo da Vida no planeta hoje é o Homem,” disse o vendedor ambulante.
“O homem apagou mais de metade das espécies planetárias nos últimos 40 anos”. O tolo malvado disse. “À taxa que estamos indo, nós, nós mesmos, provavelmente não vamos durar mais duas décadas. Nossa espécie está atrasada para a extinção.” O tolo malvado então murmurou, ainda pensando no autoespeciecide. “Como você já parará uma criatura assim?”
O vendedor ambulante parecia ler a mente do tolo malvado, estava pensando de forma semelhante, ou ouvi-lo, e ele disse. “Isso é assumir que você gostaria.”
O tolo malvado não parecia ouvir o comentário convincente do vendedor ambulante, mas disse. “Ele provavelmente não desperdiçaria seu tempo em predadores. Ele iria para a jugular imediatamente, depois de ter tanto o desejo e os recursos.”
O vendedor ambulante sugeriu. “Você provavelmente não o encontraria em um CoC.”

Capítulo Dezoito
“Você pode.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, desencantado, altamente crítico da letargia, e apenas pré-metamorfose. Não estamos falando aqui apenas de uma personalidade antissocial comum. Um verdadeiro espéciecide esperava, esperava seu tempo, não começava sua cruzada misantrópica, até que ele tivesse asas, os meios para fazê-lo. Ele provavelmente trabalharia sozinho também, Até que ele estivesse preparado. Provavelmente um supero biólogo. Tal pessoa poderia ser extremamente perigoso, um Mao, Hitler, Stalin ou Pol Pot. Possuído por uma missão divina e disposto a se sacrificar no processo. . . ”
“Não se preocupe.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “O mundo de hoje está cheio de seres missionados que estão tentando, ou ostensivamente tentando, fazer um mundo melhor para nós, humanos.”
“É EXATAMENTE isso que me preocupa.” O tolo malvado disse. “Esses bem-sucedidos são míopes fracos. Demais escrúpulos para matar pela Amor de Vida, eles não são guardiões! Eles professam um grande amor por humanidade, amicus humani generis, mas matam, ignoram, e se preocupam menos com o resto da biosfera. Esse pensamento provincial está destruindo a Vida do planeta. Esses ecos-burros politicamente corretos não são biólogos ou entenderiam que todos nós estamos conectados. É triste, mas esse é o animal símio genérico. Essas pessoas bem-intencionadas quase cego não têm consciência de que, sem a biosfera, as pessoas que estão protegendo também estão sendo complementares à extinção. Eles não estão exibindo amor, mas estão realmente exibindo uma falta de amor suficiente, pelo menos a falta de amor iluminado. À medida que a biosfera não simian morre, o mesmo acontece com os nossos apêndices espirituais. É o que está acontecendo conosco agora, em todo o mundo. Estamos ficando mais frios e mais frios como o verdadeiro amor torna-se mais difícil e mais difícil de encontrar. O suicídio é mais fácil de contemplar, e o rigor-mortis se aproxima. É provavelmente por isso que os autoespeciecides, famintos por inocência animal, mas enlouquecidos para protegê-la, algum dia, virão adiante.”
“Basta falar sobre especiecidals.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Toda vez que penso nessa palavra, vejo na minha mente aquelas meretrizes estúpidas que se tornam presidentes em seu país passado. Aqueles criminosos maníacos que conseguem colocar o dedo no botão termonuclear, literalmente, me deixam enjoado. Vamos falar mais sobre religiosos dementes.”
“Ok.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os religiosos do “outro mundo” como Luciferianos, Cristãos, Judeus, e Muçulmanos são distante mais prevalentes e poderosos neste mundo do que seres humanos.”
“Por que eles não conseguiram fazer do mundo um lugar melhor?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Pela mesma razão que eles e superpredadores não são humanos.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “O culto à morte impede que eles sejam guardiões, pois impede que eles tenham uma missão. Seus deuses são 100% imaginários. A morte é o sonho deles.”
“Você não poderia dizer que a morte é sua missão?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Eu não podia.” O tolo malvado disse. “Isso degrada o significado da palavra. Todos esses símios adoradores da morte alcançarão a realização do seu pseudo objetivo, sem nenhum esforço ou sacrifício. Chega a tudo automaticamente. Como objetivo seria destrói o valor na aspiração. Seria como dividir um número por zero, isto é, soluções infinitas. Não. O sonho da morte não é uma missão. É uma repugnância fingida de sobrevivência, uma grande fraqueza, uma carência de amor. A morte é uma inevitabilidade, uma ferramenta da Entropia, uma separação com a qual toda Vida deve lidar, e aquela condição à qual ninguém deve aspirar.”
“OK.”
“A maioria dos símios não tem vontade de aceitar uma verdadeira missão.” O tolo malvado disse. “Talvez, porque as chances de fracasso são exponencialmente mais altas do que as probabilidades de sucesso. Para outros, o conforto da criatura e a aceitação social são conceitos muito mais importantes do que impedir ou alcançar alguma possibilidade abstrusa que pode nunca ocorrer na própria vida de alguém. No entanto, a biosustentabilidade, a custódia, DEVEM ser a principal motivo da nossa espécie se nossa espécie e vida planetária multicelular continuarem.”
“Isso é compreensível.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“O que torna Homo sapiens tão terríveis, merecedores de extinção, é a nossa insensível indiferença a outra vida.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nós nos tornamos o tecido cicatricial da Natureza, formado no interesse de sobreviver ao meio tóxico em que vivemos. Essa insensibilidade é o que nos torna tão desprezíveis como uma espécie. Mas, tenho vivido o suficiente para ver que o espírito humano não é todo colágeno caloso, falta coração, falta nervos. Pode exibir uma qualidade divina. Essa centelha divina é o que devemos descobrir, adorar e fazer tudo o que pudermos para acentuar e tornar coletivo. Acredito que podemos fazê-lo, usando uma emoção que até agora temos denigrado com sexo casual e necessidades de sobrevivência. Não podemos sobreviver a nós mesmos sem amor por toda a Vida.”
“Até a vida que devemos remover?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Especialmente a vida que devemos remover.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por que especialmente?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Toda vez que matarmos, se quisermos sobreviver como seres humanos, devemos avaliar nossos motivos.” O tolo malvado disse. “Isso exige mais amor e mais coragem do que apenas as bofetadas de um mosquito. Amar a vida, remover o sofrimento, remover a vida predatória que nos faz sofrer é ser muito forte e destemido. Isso requer ainda mais amor.”
“Vejo.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“A missão da humanidade é a administração de grande amor, custódia.” O tolo malvado disse. “Com grande amor vem grande força e grande responsabilidade. É com tal força, bondade, que os seres humanos devem ser escolhidos naturalmente. Não sabemos por que a Natureza nos escolheu como adequada para a custódia de Sua criação. Até agora, foi um de seus maiores erros e pode custar Ella a sua vida. Ele não tem que continuar sendo um erro terrível. A custódia planetária é a maior missão da Vida. A custódia é nossa única chance em qualquer tipo de divindade. A custódia é a proteção de todos os aspectos mega multifacetados do protoplasma. As Grande Pontibus Pontes são a melhor ação que podemos tomar a este respeito. Expandir o raio do planeta com essas estruturas irá provar, talvez não apenas para nós mesmos, que nosso foco de custódia é genuíno. As Grandes Pontes nos permitem ser os arquitetos do Céu, criadores da Vida, os detentores das missões por excelência.”
“E as segundas missões mais altas?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“As 2 ª missões mais altas da vida são aquelas que se preocupam com a destruição do Estado, seus ministros traidores e cabides.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Há muitas missões subordinadas a estas duas categorias maiores. Quanto mais congruente uma missão é para qualquer um dos dois grandes, mais importante é que a missão é para toda a Vida, e quanto mais perto chegamos à divindade, se ela existe.”
“E esquecer completamente a religião?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Se as pessoas não podem viver sem uma psicose coletiva, uma demência religiosa, de algum tipo, então a religião que escolherem não deve ser adoração da morte mas afirmativa da Vida.” O tolo malvado disse. “Deve ser aliado com estas duas grandes missões, Biosustentabilidade e Anarquia. Devemos também mudar o enfoque atual para alcançar a honra e o amor sexual, isto é, a riqueza caedere. A riqueza pode ainda ser usada como um meio de ganhar a afeição e a glória humanas, mas deve proceder não dos símbolos do caedere mas da responsabilidade dos animans. Aparentemente durante a noite, uma mudança de valor como eu estou propondo, iria recuperar para o planeta um caminho salubre.”
“Reorientando toda a depredação para custódia.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “De uma só vez.”
“Exatamente, e seria global em seu impacto. Porque sem: 1. O Pontibus, ou, 2. Um sistema mundial de energia barata, ou, 3. Preparativos extensivos para o grande morrer, acabará por vir uma necessidade defensiva, se elas são para sobreviver, para uma recompensa em todos os grandes predadores. A maioria desses predadores são os adoradores da morte. Livros religiosos deplorados como a Bíblia, o Talmude, a Torá ou o Alcorão continuarão a envenenar a humanidade, resultando, em última instância, em um mal-estar fatal. Permitindo que nossa espécie seja controlada pela riqueza caedere predatória, pelas religiões adoradoras da morte e pela Lei Escrita e a sanção política é uma prescrição para a extinção humana.” O tolo malvado disse. “Um mundo de cidadãos cumpridores da lei e homens temerosos de Deus é o maior inimigo da civilização biosustentável que existe.”
“Isso é uma declaração tão louca quanto eu ouvi toda a semana.” O vendedor ambulante brincou.
“Obrigado.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Aqui está mais. A revolta da sobrevivência é inerente a todos os aspectos da Lei Escrita e das religiões “do outro mundo”. Essas instituições desviantes glorificam apenas os valores caedere, mesmo quando professam o contrário. O culto à morte é o modus operandi sob-roja totalitário de todos os maníacos “do outro mundo”. Eles estão fascinados com a morte. Luciferianos, Cristãos, Judeus e Muçulmanos são selvagens doentes, adoradores da morte, que ameaçam a sobrevivência humana. No Ocidente, os cristãos são os mais conhecidos, provavelmente porque são os mais nauseantes, desagradáveis, e sempre em seu rosto. Eles o chamam de testemunhando – tentando convencer-se da correção de seu dogma demente por verbalmente rebatendo-o nos ouvidos de inocentes.”
“Evangelismo.”
“Sim. Isso é o que eles chamam de um dos sintomas mais repugnantes de sua doença. Ela manifesta o próprio epítome da inveja cáustica.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles não são melhores do que os superpredadores, porque são drogados por sua inveja insaciável desses maníacos caedere. Eles fariam qualquer coisa, dar qualquer coisa, para estar na mesma posição. Os predadores religiosos invejam os superpredadores supremos acima de todos os outros.”
“Evangelistas.”
“. . . . São alguns dos piores exemplos de escravos para caedere-inveja. Os superpredadores extremos, os titãs bancários fracionários, os Judeus Sionistas, são a causa de praticamente todo esse predador religioso inveja.” O tolo malvado disse. “A predação do setor bancário é, de longe, a maior em termos de riqueza caedere adquirida, possuída e usada para parasitar. Este grupo é responsável pela produção de todo o papel-moeda e dívida externa. Não tendo valor intrínseco, apenas símbolos de morte simbólica, representa puro sangue roubo. Consequentemente, forçou a dívida e a escravidão de virtualmente todos que desejam comprar ou vender. A opulência caedere dos cartéis bancários desperdiça a vida dos banqueiros e a vida de seus escravos. Caedere riqueza e aqueles em livre busca de que são responsáveis por cada estado-nação e cada influência negativa sobre biosustentabilidade.
“Por que é assim?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Cercado por seus símbolos da morte, o caedere rico não pode ver além desse véu venal e na realidade áspera que é vida. Caedere riqueza, lucre imundo, detém para algumas pessoas um fascínio muito além de seu valor de mercado.” O tolo malvado disse. “As operações bancárias fracionárias produziram ligando-pelo-casamento dinastias de banqueiros, que duraram séculos, Rothschild-Bauer, Sforza, Oppenheimer, Schiff, Warburg, Medici, Saxe-Coburgo-Gotha, etc. Estas dinastias podem fazer ou quebrar países, bem como pessoas decentes, sobre um capricho, para sempre. Nenhum estado é imune. Banqueiro poder é praticamente onipotente. O braço governamental do Estado faz o lance dos banqueiros e se engrandece ao fazê-lo. A menos que os policiais traiçoeiros genufletem aos banqueiros, os políticos não podem trair, violar, saquear, nem matar sua própria cidadania, nem mesmo a cidadania de outros países, com impunidade.”
“Triste.”
“Não é? Bancário fracionário, moeda com base na dívida, é nada menos que fraude legal.” O tolo malvado disse. “Qualquer ganho derivado de mecanismos de geração de moeda bancária fracionária também é fraudulento. Caedere fortunas realizadas através de tais avenidas podem ser consideradas ilegítimas e perdidas. As dívidas resultantes desses empréstimos devem ser consideradas nulas e sem efeito.”
“Apenas pare de fazer seus pagamentos, e você verá quão nulos e sem efeito são.” O vendedor ambulante brincou.
“Isso é por causa da ilusão, resultante da interconexão de banqueiros com os políticos e advogados.” O tolo malvado disse. “Ajudam arranjos corruptos e falham em aplicar as penalidades necessárias. Como todo o papel moeda é apenas simbólico da morte simbólica e derivado de operações bancárias fracionárias, não há devedores reais. Não há credores reais. Só há subterfúgios gerados oficialmente – ilusão de valor. Cripto-moedas e papel CoC fiat são o único dinheiro genuíno possível hoje.”
“Você acha que todos os banqueiros são predadores?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Banqueiros menores do que os vândalos dinásticos controlando a oferta de dinheiro são simplesmente clérigos glorificados, artistas engano político sancionados, e vigaristas. Eles enganam todos em acreditar que são o contrário. Os banqueiros comunitários locais são funcionários de escritório simples e de mentalidade pequena que se beneficiam de facilitar a fraude perpetrada em todos pelos predadores maiores. Os déspotas religiosos enganam os tolos para acreditar em uma vida após a morte e um supere-bicho-papão – “Deus”. Os banqueiros emulam esses falsos traficantes. Ambos vendem uma fraude semelhante que eles têm o poder de controlar os aspectos de um abismo imaginário que não tem absolutamente nenhum valor real. Os mesmos banais fraude foram em plena velocidade por milênios. Os feriados expõem a fraude, mas logo é esquecido.”
“Muito poucas pessoas se apoderam deles.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Isso é verdade.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Em 2008, o mundo estava sofrendo hemorragia. Todos os bancos do mundo estavam em falência. Em vez de sair do mercado, eles deram aos contribuintes do mundo uma xícara e disseram aos políticos para forçar os contribuintes a sangrarem nele. Os políticos o fizeram, e os bancos agora beberão o sangue das crianças do contribuinte por mais algumas gerações. A fraude funciona. Nunca falha. O meu maior arrependimento é que eu fui ao Vietnã e matei pessoas honradas e caedere fraco, quando, eu poderia ter ficado em casa e, com o mesmo risco, matou políticos.”
“Essa é uma linguagem forte”. O vendedor ambulante disse.
“A coragem de aceitar, e reforçar a prática de ideias verdadeiras que são contrárias às fraudes desses criminosos autorizados e predadores, geralmente está faltando.” O tolo malvado disse. “Praticar tal coragem, individualmente, efetivamente, significa prisão provável ou morte para o herói.”
“Isso não é difícil de entender.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Perseguir a concepção verdadeira, com algum grau de sucesso, também pode condenar um à condição de um fugitivo.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Assim. Agora eu sei a verdade, mas importa muito pouco. Eu ainda sou uma vítima, presa dos predadores.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Não é assim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Você está agora muito mais livre e mais poderoso. Agora você sabe que não há moralidade válida além da biosustentabilidade. Golpear para a liberdade e a sobrevivência, mesmo que seja a sua última ação, só será considerado errado por escravos e símios incorrigivelmente ignorantes. O medo da vergonha-jogando acabou para você. Esse conhecimento dá-lhe grande poder.”
“Matar um superpredador não está errado?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nem é ” bom “. Eu não acho que haja qualquer ação que os humanos possam fazer no interesse de remover o poder de caedere de um superpredador que seria um golpe para a Natureza. Pode ser perigoso, mas moralmente neutro, e todas as outras coisas sendo iguais, provavelmente bio-positivas. Diferente da pusilanimidade básica ou da ganância absoluta, não há justificativa para se abster de matar banqueiros, advogados e políticos predadores sempre que forem encontrados.”
“Assim. Somos todos covardes se não nos apressarmos e matarmos o prefeito local?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Não. Todos somos gananciosos, ou covardes, ou ambos se não pudermos, mas isso resume tudo, bastante bem.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os advogados, políticos, e banqueiros aqui recentemente fizeram uma lei que rouba os moradores de uma parte de suas vidas – o dinheiro. Os políticos estão aplicando a lei com o poder que deram a si mesmos a impostos. Eles são ladrões de proteção-raquete, essencialmente, e eles devem morrer por seu comportamento! Eu sou uma pessoa civilizada, no entanto, e estou impedido, pelo estado, de usar violência. Se eu quiser combater o imposto, em vez de matar os perpetradores, devo pagar um de seus irmãos na fraternidade legal de ladrões licenciados pelo Estado para negá-lo. Eu sou batido de qualquer maneira. Entende? Não importa como você opte por vê-lo, esses advogados, políticos e banqueiros são predadores e devem morrer no interesse da minha sobrevivência. Eles são salvos, no entanto, porque sou um covarde, e porque não quero saber que a minha filha ficará com fome e frio, quando eu for colocado na prisão ou morto como pena por ter realizado o ato justo do predicida. Se eu estivesse certo de que minha pousada e minha filha não seriam perdidas como uma recompensa adicional para o meu “crime” contemplado, es possível que eu não hesitaria nesses bastardos. Es também possível que estou usando minha filha como uma desculpa para a minha inércia covarde disfarçada de lesão de sobrevivência constitutiva. Devo dizer-lhe, no entanto, que ter essa conversa com você tem muito mais coragem para mim do que sair de uma série de matando fúria praticamente inútil.

Capítulo Dezenove
“Você está falando sério?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “A maioria dos membros do Homo sapiens sapiens são como nós. É a razão pela qual as espécies provavelmente irão desaparecer – demais fraco e covarde para ser selecionado para sobrevivência. Se você deseja mudar as coisas incivilizadas neste mundo a Lei Escrita, o estado, e as proscrições religiosas contra a violência impedem você. Você não tem outra alternativa senão tomar as coisas em prática e agir com violência ou fazer parte do problema e uma vítima. Você também não fosse ganancioso ou covarde, como eu, e você conseguiu a remoção do prefeito e não foi cortado imediatamente, você pode ir ao banco e matar o gerente. Se o juiz e o padre estivessem lá, você pode matá-los também.”
Você está maluco, delirante louco!” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Claro. Mas você já sabia disso. Os moradores lhe disseram isso.” O tolo malvado zombou.
“E eles estavam no local!” O vendedor ambulante disse, com entusiasmo. “Você dissimulou bem, mas não bem o suficiente para torná-lo em pé.”
“Ahh.” O tolo malvado disse. “Você só está vendo o menor louco.”
“Você está mais louco do que isso ?!” O vendedor ambulante perguntou. “Eu realmente não vejo como isso poderia ser possível.”
“Claro, é.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nós dois somos muito mais insanos do que os cenários que acabamos de postular e imaginar.”
“Como é isso?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Nós estamos escolhendo sobreviver, no momento, não fazendo nada para ajudar nossa liberdade e sobrevivência individuais.”
“OK.”
“E a nossa posteridade e nossos” também-corres”? Com tal ganância e covardia, como avançamos? mais adiante as missões essenciais de biosustentabilidade e anarquia?” O tolo malvado explicou. “Como demostraram anteriormente, juntos, se evitarmos a biosustentabilidade, não há outra maneira de existir no planeta Terra hoje, como uma espécie a menos que se aceite a loucura como um constante companheiro inveterado. Eu tentei arduamente para te fazer ver que não há absolutamente nenhuma base biológica ou física para a existência de qualquer vontade libre ou responsabilidade pessoal por nossas ações. Nos sobrevivemos apenas sob constante auto decepção.”
Ou arriscamos nossas vidas, bem-estar, e liberdade ou aceite a adesão de uma psicose coletiva para sobreviver?” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “Condenado de qualquer maneira.”
“Sim. Viver sob o domínio de uma psicose coletiva, muito mais grave do que a da religião e Lei Escrita, significa que quase todos se sentem confortáveis com o fato de existir dentro da loucura da desgraça iminente. Se é provável que possamos, mas os hologramas, como os físicos quânticos e Shakespeare íntimos, então nós existimos na ilusão, e isso torna nossos valores vapores e ilusórios. Usando escravizar caedere moeda fiduciária, acreditando a ilusão caedere de valor, é um sintoma dessa loucura coletiva.” O tolo malvado disse. “Como guardas, existe um pouco mais de esperança para uma consciência saudável e sobrevivência, se nos unir em Comunidades de Consenso, CoCs. Como membros de um CoC, podemos enterrar nossa demência coletiva. Podemos afogar nossa avareza e covardia na cultura da coragem que ali habita no rosto diurno de morte próxima e certa. Qualquer símio, especialmente um membro de uma assembleia de liberdade, como uma célula de Comunidade de Consenso, que não pode matar um predador, não merece o nome de “ser humano”, Homo sapiens eusapiens.”
“E como encontramos essas entidades?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Eu não acho que os CoCs violentos ainda existem.” O tolo malvado disse. “As atuais Comunidades de Consenso, que eu conheço, estão condenadas. O infernal estado não pode suportar a anarquia, assim como o fogo não irá suportar a água, ou os SEA Emma Goldman. Os membros das comunas pacíficas passivas estão vivendo em um mundo de sonho se eles acham que podem instituir uma anarquia funcional e duradoura, jogando flores nos agentes do Estado que inevitavelmente virão para matá-los. Passividade não vai funcionar. A SEA tem uma longa lista daqueles eles já destruíram. CoCs violentos surgirão, esperançosamente, subrepticiamente e espontaneamente, devido a alguma grande perturbação à vida humana normal. Esse grande choque catapultará as Comunidades de Consenso na tênue posição de ser “CoCs ou morte”.”
“Choque, como o quê?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
O tolo malvado disse. “Há muitos possíveis. Os banqueiros podem ficar incontrolavelmente avarento e roubar TODOS de TUDO. Podem começar uma grande guerra e declarar a lei marcial, confiscando toda a riqueza caedere existente que não é possuída já por eles, etc. Talvez uma grande inundação ou um terremoto seja a força precipitação. Como você pode saber, os homens rebanho para qualquer lugar que eles veem uma maneira de evitar ver seus filhos morrer de fome. A maioria das pessoas está satisfeita em aceitar o status quo, não importa quão espartano pode ser, enquanto o seu trabalho, casa, família, fins de semana e outras vidas felizes banal não experimentam mudanças negativas. Dê-lhes uma grande ruptura, (ambiental, econômica, política, etc.), e eles vão jogar os Molotovs com abandono.”
“Comunidades de Consenso, (CoCs), vai subir para esse evento, você sente?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eles devem!” O tolo malvado disse. “As tentativas não-violentas de anarquia já estão aqui. Tudo o que é necessário é uma mudança para as comunidades que podem sobreviver à comportamento de busca e destruição da fraternidade dos superpredadores. Os CoCs usarão a crise que vem para tomar posse física armas militares, das florestas tropicais restantes, montanhas, savanas, lagos, rios, oceanos, zonas húmidas e muito mais. Os CoCs devem estar dispostos a apostar suas vidas na proteção bem-sucedida do meio ambiente. Eu também estou usando o termo “ambiente” no sentido geral, não apenas no seu contexto “árvore-abraçando” usual. Os CoCs vão começar a usar táticas de guerrilha para destruir bandidos, predadores e seus parasitas e babões das parasitas em todos os lugares encontrados. As coisas sobre as quais estou falando não são fantasias simples. . . . Hollywood. Haverá rivalidade de extermínio mútuo, alguns por design natural, alguns ideológicos. Os rios correrão vermelhos. Os corpos obstruirão os drenos da tempestade e as baixas do rio. Tenho visto os resultados de tais rivalidade. Já vi corpos amontoados e demolidos. A natureza sorri diante de tais características de pequenos grupos humanos. O tempo está se esgotando em coisas normal. Há mudanças tecnológicas para a sociedade que a humanidade não vai, não pode, estômago. Eles também não vão bem com a Natureza. Logo, qualquer ser humano que não queira se tornar um cyborg do Nova Ordem Mundial precisará procurar a proteção limitada de um CoC ou morrer de fome.”
“Você está falando de inteligência artificial rastejante?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“E chips RFID.” O tolo malvado disse. “As frequências, o uso de telefones celulares, ainda provavelmente não são capazes de mudar diretamente a conhecimento humana. Mas a tecnologia e as frequências podem mudar, e em breve irão fazê-lo. . Se algum símia se recusa a aceitar um modem cyborg em seu corpo, as freqüências dos pontos centrais resolverão o problema ou realizarão o trabalho sem o consentimento do simian. Os osciladores cerebrais da onda principal estarão aqui MUITO em breve.”
”Transmitindo ordens de uma instalação central?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se somos simulações, as pessoas vão descobrir. Nossa escravidão pode tornar-se difícil de manter. Logo, os símios se tornarão sistemas de suporte de vida para telefones celulares. O que costumamos chamar de telepatia deixará o reino das conjecturas e se tornará comum. Já, pesados detentores de caedere riqueza não são humanos. A avareza sem obstáculos é uma essência falta qualidade à subumana. Não é uma qualidade humana. O status de cyborg é apenas um pequeno ajuste para muitos símios “sem essência”. Os superpredadores são hedonistas insaciáveis, e seu caedere aspirando caloso comportamento assemelha-se àquele dos autômatos que eles imaginam e emulam. Pequenos banqueiros, advogados e servos estaduais seguem em perseguição próxima como patinhos perseguindo sua mãe.”
“O sofrimento das classes trabalhadoras e desprotegido não significa nada para eles.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Claro que não!” Disse o tolo malvado. “Peões como nós são baratos, e uma vida símia estragado é apenas um pequeno custo de fazer negócios. Os superpredadores têm exércitos de súditos de relações públicas vendendo inocência de superpredadores para as classes trabalhadoras. A maioria das classes mais baixas e médias compra as mentiras. Filantropia, extravagâncias de mídia, passeios em público, propaganda inteligente, filmes, celebridades, etc. ajudar a difundir o perigo para os superpredadores. A mídia engana as pessoas a acreditar que os predadores não são viciosos, gananciosos, traidores da confiança. Em vez disso, a propaganda retrata a comunidade de superpredadores como sujeitos sortudos e espertos. Ele vende mensagens fraudulentas, politicamente bonitas que mantêm as classes trabalhadoras podem chegar a caedere Nirvana também, se eles são sorte e inteligente. Quem fala em contrário às mentiras é chamado negativo, estúpido, preguiçoso e covarde.”
“Ou invejoso.” O vendedor ambulante acrescentou.
“Sim, e até subversivo e criminoso, às vezes.” O tolo malvado disse. “A existência completa dos super-ricos caedere é repugnante a uma civilização iluminada. Os CoCs devem removê-los, onde quer que sejam encontrados. Os CoCs não devem acreditar na mentira de que as dinastias bancárias podem ser reabilitadas. Tais promessas, se oferecidas, são insidiosas e mas subterfúgios. Eles devem ser obliterados, inteiramente.”
“O guardião deve cuidar do planeta recuperado até que o último pedaço de vida os deixe?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante. “Não haverá aposentadoria?”
O tolo malvado respondeu. “Se um ser humano está fazendo seu trabalho, como custodiante, não haverá necessidade nem vontade de se aposentar.”
“A morte é aposentadoria suficiente.” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “Eu suponho.”
“Para um humano saudável, sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se as pessoas não são assassinadas por médicos, eles morrem por causa de sentimentos de futilidade, sem propósito, ou de serem presos. O caminho para que os humanos alcancem uma vida completa, cheia de sentimentos de utilidade, é aceitar um Weltanschauung nova do caedere aos animans. O que é necessário para salvar e preservar a vida do nosso planeta moribundo, é uma maneira de traduzir a riqueza caedere predatória em unidades de animação da biosustentabilidade. Unidades de morte caedere simbólica devem desaparecer para sempre e ser substituídas por unidades animãns de vida e de vida simbólica. Qualquer verdadeiro mercado livre existe será pervertido no tempo de volta da opressão se o capital for caedere.”
“Você pode me dar um exemplo?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim, mas o conceito da minha solução para implementação ainda é um pouco incipiente. A prática entre os seres humanos missionados o aperfeiçoará. Suponho que temos um objeto morto, uma cadeira, criada de uma árvore viva por alguém. A cadeira tem um valor. “O tolo perverso explicou e continuou. “O valor da cadeira no simbolismo caedere poderia ser representado por US $ 100. O valor da árvore viva na Amazônia, a partir do qual a cadeira foi feita, atualmente é avaliado em quase zero dólares de caedere. Uma árvore viva tem um grande valor, mas a economia atual do caedere não reflete isso, porque ainda não estamos quase mortos por fome, poluição, inundações instantâneas, desertos, ou falta de oxigênio ou superação de CO2, o alcance natural da árvore. Com um pedaço do planeta roubou, estuprou e assassinou, após 15 minutos de uma brutalização da serra, $ 100 do valor caedere emergem e o valor infinito é perdido.”
“O que você está dizendo é verdade.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Eu vi a devastação que esses caboclos causam com suas serras de corrente.”
O tolo disse. “Uma nova definição de dinheiro e riqueza deve ser criada para representar o símbolo de uma árvore viva. Por exemplo, a árvore pode ser avaliada em um hipotético 1000R$ animans enquanto vivo e avaliado em zero R$ animans se morto. Uma hipotética tartaruga viva poderia ser avaliada em 500 R$ animans ou zero R$ animans se morto, ou um tapir vivo (valorizada em alguns outros animans figura), etc..”
“Você não muda nada. A matéria-prima subdesenvolvida, morta, ainda é considerado virtualmente sem valor.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Você está certo. Tudo o que estou fazendo é inflar um valor de mercado. Como eu disse, minha solução para a implementação precisa de trabalho.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se alguma maneira pudesse ser instituída que permitisse somente o excesso de recursos naturais para ser dado o valor dos animans e os recursos escassos dados caedere como o valor proibido. . . .”
“Então, você está falando sobre uma questão ética de certo e errado, e uma inconsistência fatal em sua filosofia.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Não se alguém, como um membro de um CoC, é encarregado de proteger o recurso”. O tolo malvado disse. “Se o CoC perde dinheiro animans quando e se a responsabilidade de propriedade protegida de um membro morrer, o membro também perderá o status de CoC. Se algo bonito e vivo, não símia, é perdido, ele apenas ativa uma questão ética agora. Por que não ativar uma resposta de sobrevivência? ”
“Parece que deveria. “O vendedor ambulante disse.
“A perda de responsabilidade de viabilidade em uma situação ambiental natural pode significar perda de status de CoC e, por sua vez, perda da viabilidade de CoC também”. O tolo malvado disse. “Matar e usar a árvore viva, a tartaruga terrestre ou a anta deve reduzir o valor e a riqueza dos membros da Comunidade de Consenso, cuja responsabilidade é protegê-la. Isso o retira do domínio da casuística e coloca-o diretamente no domínio da biossegurança e da sobrevivência. Cortar uma árvore de mogno de 500 anos de idade não seria apenas um crime político ético pequeno. É um insulto à tribo do CoC e é encontrado com um movimento que protege a sobrevivência e a biosustentabilidade. As comunidades de consenso devem proteger sua área de responsabilidade contra os banqueiros fracionários, dos babãos do estado-nação e de outros predadores. Se a área de responsabilidade do CdC for diminuída, a riqueza e o status dos CoCs serão diminuídos. Eles devem se proteger eles mesmo, junto com sua área de responsabilidade, contra os bandidos caedere enviados pelos predadores para erradicá-los. Os bandidos de caedere morrerão, juntamente com outros superpredadores, bem como os heróis do CoC.”
“Você não está propondo nada de novo”. O vendedor ambulante disse. “Essa é a situação da tribo indígena hoje. Condenado, como nós.”
“Você está certo,” disse o idiota. “É exatamente o que está acontecendo aqui na Amazônia hoje.”
“É inevitável.” O vendedor ambulante concordou. “Parece ser uma solução sem esperança para mim. As tribos indígenas restantes no mundo hoje estão trabalhando modelos de sua solução CoC. É exatamente o mesmo estado de coisas. Parecem-me estar perdendo a guerra em todos os lugares.”
O tolo malvado não pareceu ouvir o comentário convincente do vendedor, mas disse. “Os CoCs que sobrevivem e se tornam animans ricos devem ajudar os cientistas e outras pessoas educadas a clonar o DNA armazenado e retornar espécies extintas ao meio ambiente. Disse o tolo malvado. “Cada espécie recuperada aumentará a riqueza de animans do CoC e do planeta.”
“Os motivos parecem corretos, mas as coisas terão que ficar muito ruins antes que as pessoas voltem para esses grupos.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Terão que temer terrivelmente a matar horrivelmente. Então, algo virá e os forçará a sentir uma necessidade de racionalizar sua grande matança.”
“Você quer dizer que um desejo perverso de religião pode voltar a atormentar a humanidade?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Bem.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Como você diz, isso não vai acontecer tão sem sangue, como se desejaria. A culpa do sangue pode forçar as pessoas à escravidão religiosa.”
“Você está certo. Eu tenho agonizado sobre esta questão por décadas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu não vejo a chegada destes grupos até que haja uma grande crise esmagadora. Um ambiental super-desastre, extinção total da liberdade, ou confisco predatório de todas as riquezas caedere deve ocorrer. Deve ser suficiente para que todos, exceto os superpredadores, sintam sua devastação. . As pessoas só agirão violentamente quando sentirem a necessidade de se defender contra uma ameaça. Talvez algum controle fascista sobre tudo o que os símios consideram necessário à vida vai começar o derramamento de sangue. Friedrich Engels deveria ter dito uma vez: “A sociedade burguesa está na encruzilhada, seja a transição para o socialismo ou a regressão para a barbárie.” Não posso deixar de concordar. Meu único corolário é que devemos ser ecléticos com a nossa barbárie.”

Capítulo Vinte
“Matar começa a ser agradável e indiscriminado, pelo que eu ouvi. Ele pode até sair da mão. . . . Mas, eu estou levando carvão para Newcastle.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Você sabe mais do que eu sobre tais assuntos.”
“Eu fiz a minha parte de “tais assuntos”.” O tolo malvado disse. “Tanto quanto eu poderia desejar que fosse de outra forma, eu não posso pensar de nenhuma maneira o novo sistema de definição de riqueza animans pode eventualmente ocorrer, exceto através de sangue símio. Os símios gastaram muito, devem muito, pelo que devem pagar. Nada significativo é alcançado, politicamente, sem violência. Somente fanáticos idealistas não testados pensam o contrário. O exercício do poder procede como um resíduo do uso de armas. Os CoC chegarão sem qualquer poder político. Eles devem levá-la. Os acumuladores caedere fornecerão as armas.”
“Os banqueiros controlam os braços.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Todas as armas vendidas e desdobradas por complexos militar-industriais ao redor do mundo são financiadas por banceras desumanas fiendes e dívida por caedere. Recursos, gastos em armas através de papel-moeda e extorsão de dívida falsa, são retirados da humanidade e dignos objetivos planetários. Fiat moeda, ea dívida facilmente fabricados que banca fraccionada representa, detém todos cativa. A riqueza de animans é riqueza positiva, e a riqueza de caedere é negativa. Caedere banqueiros estão diretamente contra a riqueza animans. Os banqueiros de caedere devem ir.
“TODOS os genuflects para caedere a riqueza, porque TUDO tem um preço do caedere.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Caedere banqueiros podem comprar seu caminho para fora de animans perigo sem sequer sentir a despesa caedere pitada.”
“Eu tenho medo que você esteja certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Tudo para o qual eu sonho pode evaporar em um instante, se não for encontrada nenhuma maneira de instituir um sistema funcionando de valores de animans.”
O vendedor ambulante disse. “Ideais como honra, liberdade, economia, coragem, integridade, bondade, sacrifício, perdão, etc. caem prostrados diante da investida da “fantasia de ouro”.”
“Nada é sagrado quando confrontado com o poder negativo do caedere. O que estou propondo é quase um puro exercício de futilidade.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu me sinto como um guerreiro tribal Amazônico, preparando-me para levantar minha lança de madeira contra uma metralhadora de calibre 50.”
“Os membros do cartel bancário e as dinastias governantes são supostamente adoradores de Lúcifer, o Diabo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Talvez.” Disse o tolo malvado. “Mas o que isso importa? Todo culto sobrenatural é sem sentido. O Diabo é como seu suplente, o cómico “Deus” boogeyman, Lúcifer é apenas mais uma mistura supersticiosa de predadores empenhados em estuprar imbecils. “Lúcifer” está supostamente em um dos extremos da imaginária escala do déspota “Outro Mundo”. “Deus”, “Jeová”, “Javé”, “Alá” sao no oposto diametral. Mas, documentação do Cativeiro Babilônico trouxe o fato sem sentido para o primeiro plano que tanto o “Diabo” quanto “Deus” são um e o mesmo diety imaginário. Não há absolutamente nenhuma diferença moral entre os fins opostos. A topografia do gradiente pode diferir, às vezes, mas os braços estão sempre em equilíbrio. Por isso, os banqueiros Luciferianos predacious sentem, com razon, que não precisam temer dos outro cabalistas predacious religiosos místico papo furado sobre “Deus”, “Jeová”, “Javé”, “Alá”. São aliados sob o vestido.”
“Suplicar a uma religião por ajuda contra outra é inútil, suponho?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Sempre foi, para não mencionar o quão insincero seria.”
“Como pedir ajuda a um pol.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Isso me leva a outro grande grupo de predadores.” O tolo malvado disse. “Penúltima para os supremos banqueiros superpredadores, o estado símio é o mais grave superpredador da humanidade e de toda a Vida. Politicos e pessoas que trabalham para os estados, em todas as posições, exceto as mais inócuas, sabem que estão agindo contrariamente aos melhores interesses da humanidade. Por esta razão, eles vivem com medo, e é por isso que eles são monstros de controle. Todos os governos são predação organizada. Mesmo os mais fracos são anátemas que, com o tempo, cairão ou se transformarão na rigidez do totalitarismo. Lei Escrita em um sistema totalitário rompe as costas da humanidade, dessecando nossa essência, e compromete a sobrevivência e evolução. A extinção humana acompanhará a hegemonia mundial do totalitarismo. Se agimos em nossa própria defesa, falamos contra, ou discutimos tal estado de coisas, como eu estou fazendo, estamos em risco. Uma conversa, como a nossa aqui, pode ser facilmente ouvida. Com um pouco de criatividade por parte do espião e da polícia, nos tornamos conspiradores. Devemos atribuir qualquer um dos nossos pensamentos ao papel, e entregue-os a outro, o estado pode interpretá-lo como planejando o terrorismo. Além disso, podemos encontrar-nos recipientes de todos os tipos de epítetos – “criminoso”, “louco”, “traidor”, etc. antes da execução.”
“Então, por que você faz isso?” Pediu o vendedor ambulante.
“Provando, vivi, suponho, e minhas observações sobre a vida. Eu não morri no Vietnã, como tantos homens, melhor do que eu, fiz.” O tolo malvado respondeu.
“Eles eram verdadeiros humanos honrados.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim, eles eram.” O tolo malvado falhou. “Não tenho a coragem de ser um predicide. Não é porque temo a morte tanto quanto é que temo a possibilidade de cair no pântano de sentar em julgamento. Eu posso fazer a minha parte, agora, arriscando minha vida, com uma conversa, aqui e ali, por uma causa ainda maior, biosustentabilidade. Venha o que será. Eu não acho que nossas vidas servem para qualquer propósito se eles não trabalham com a melhor de suas habilidades para tornar as condições para a Vida mais positivas.”
“Ah”.
O tolo malvado disse. “Estou tentando questionar tudo, com meus anos restantes, propor alternativas e talvez fazer uma diferença positiva. Isso parece ser tudo o que posso fazer agora para tornar o mundo um lugar mais gentil.”
“Entendo.”
“Os superpredadores provavelmente não virão atrás de mim, até que eu comece a ser um incômodo ou uma ameaça para eles.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os verdadeiros negadores de vida, mestres da riqueza caedere, titãs de bancos fracionários, evitam a castigo cena. Seus agentes e mais pequenos adoradores da morte entram para oficiar a nossa acusação ou assassinato. Os médicos, os abutres da piedade, os Cristãos, os Judeus, os Muçulmanos, os políticos, os advogados, etc. saltarão no conselho do julgamento se lhe derem a menor possibilidade. O jargão politicamente correto maliciosamente dirigido destruirá qualquer um, mesmo o mais santo dos caráteres.”
“Especialmente o mais santo dos personagens.” O vendedor ambulante acrescentou.
“Sim. Está certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Políticos, como todos os “curandeiros”, ladrões, estupradores, “homens de Deus”, “sábios”, abutres de compaixão, banqueiros e advogados são predadores. Uma sociedade “liderada” por políticos e banqueiros, envenenada pela medicina, explorada pela Lei Escrita, ameaçada de castigo religioso, chupada seco por desajustes genéticos e carrapatos símios, é uma sociedade psicótica. A civilização foi condenada, desde pelo menos 11.600 BCE, a estes estados brutais, astrológica, irracionais, cíclicos, e selvagens.”
“Todas as “sociedades civilizadas” devem ser assim?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Não. As comunidades nem sempre devem ser destinadas a ser violadas pela dívida. Mas, eles sempre serão, até o fim amargo, se a definição de riqueza e civilização não mudar.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Como vamos definir a civilização?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Minha definição próprio esclarecida do que constitui “verdadeiramente civilizado” atrairá poucos adeptos contemporâneos.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se a raça humana é para sobreviver e continuar evoluindo, novas comunidades civilizadas devem ser menores do que aqueles agora ou no passado. Mais pequeno é necessário se adequar mais facilmente ao Direito Natural. Eles serão anarquistas, assemelhando-se a grupos de 30 a 50 membros de caçadores-coletores. Eles terão uma taxa de extinção ecossistêmica proximal de espécies que é inferior àquela que a sociedade atual considera aceitável, de preferência zero. As taxas de homicídio nas novas sociedades civilizadas serão superiores às que a sociedade contemporânea considera aceitáveis. A nova taxa deve ser mantida alta e rigorosamente controlada.”
“Parece que estamos de volta à tribos indígenas moribunda.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Eu queria que você não continuasse me lembrando.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por que a taxa de homicídios será maior do que as taxas atuais?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Por uma série de razões.” O tolo malvado disse. “Primeiro, autodefesa. Os predadores que não podem ser reabilitados devem ser removidos. Isso exigirá uma grande quantidade de homicídios. Segundo, nem toda a vida símia, manifestada fora do éter, tem os meios para continuar satisfatoriamente no ambiente tóxico da Terra. A eugenia e a eutanásia devem ser institucionalizadas nas novas comunidades, como estavam em antigos grupos humanos. Os predadores incorrigíveis e os desajustes biológicos devem ser enviados de volta para de onde vieram. . A eugênica e a eutanásia nunca devem tornar-se uma rotina insensível, mas também essas novas civilizações do CoC devem ser pressionadas a ser bruscamente brutais, exploradoras, draconianas e não discernidas em seu truncando. As civilizações humanas passadas e as sociedades modernas invariavelmente oprimem. Não há registros de genocídios em civilizações passadas antes da aparição da riqueza caedere. O ouro começou a ser valorizado, de acordo com registros credíveis, por pessoas comuns, por volta de 3000 AC e o primeiro código de leis, de acordo com registros credíveis, foi instituído na Suméria em 2350 AC.”
“A aparência da Lei Escrita depois que o amor do ouro apareceu é interessante, não é?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Não tenho tanta certeza de que foi coincidência.” Disse o tolo malvado. “A ascensão do valor de caedere parece ser um advento estranho, quase uma perversão da missão da nossa espécie. As Comunidades de Consenso devem tornar-se um caminho de retorno à civilização salubre. Sendo anarquistas, eles não matarão genocidamente, mas com discrição, e não como punição, mas apenas em legítima defesa. Quando se considera todas as definições passadas e atuais do que constitui uma divindade, deve-se considerar que as Comunidades de Consenso serão ateus. Os membros das novas comunidades civilizadas devem ser apenas adoradores do inimigo da Entropia “Vida”, aceitando a Entropia como um constrangimento e uma ferramenta necessários. Predadores escolher a perversão da quantidade de vida individual sobre a qualidade de vida, forçando o envelhecimento prolongado em detrimento da nova vida fresca. Isto é uma afronta direta à Natureza. Por essa razão, a violenta rivalidade entre os CoC parentes será uma característica predominante da nova civilização. Conflito sangrento não permitirá que essa perversão floresça.”
“Como é que esse desejo de longa vida virá a ser?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante. “Eu certamente não quero envelhecer e enfermo, empilhados alto com arrependimentos, ter outros ou cuidar de mim ou esperar impaciente por minha morte. Estou sozinha com esse desejo?”
“Eu não acho que você é.” O tolo malvado disse. “Muitas pessoas não sabem quando chamá-lo um dia. Essa distorção da Lei Natural é outra consequência da riqueza caedere e sua busca. Substituindo a busca da riqueza do caedere para missões saudáveis na vida, uma população parece que é enchida com o repente para a juventude perdida. Esses indivíduos arrependidos de gratidão retardada logo controlam grandes quantidades de caedere riqueza ou representações digitais do mesmo. Eles arrogam o direito de estender suas próprias vidas, esmagando a vida fora de seus “mais pobres” vizinhos. Eles podem literalmente privar os outros da vida. Neste momento, é 15 anos de vida mais para os caedere ricos. Eles podem negociar medidas mais caras de longevidade heroica do que aqueles menos dotados de caedere riqueza. Eles podem comprar novas células-tronco pluripotenciais de bebês assassinados. Eles podem colocar as pessoas concorrentes, mais pobres em caedere riqueza, atrás das grades ou em oficinas de suor para pagar por tudo. Eles também podem evitar vidas mais duras devido à sua posse de quantidades obscenas de caedere riqueza. Eles são zombarias da Natureza e seleção natural. Qualquer sistema de economia que usa a riqueza caedere como capital é arcaico, e deve ser aposentado. Se não for removido, ele nos removerá.”
“Vai acabar mal.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim, será.” O tolo malvado concordou. “Superpredadores também acreditam que porque eles são ladrões traiçoeiro bem-sucedidos e certificados super patifes que agora merecem uma voz mais alta do que outros símios em todas as manifestações da vida de poder. Eles de fato já arrogado essa voz mais alta e com ela o controle de todas as contingências pelas quais vivemos. Eles estão tentando empurrar essa hegemonia sobre nós na perpetuidade sem nosso consentimento. Políticos e seus donos de banqueiros podem agora subverter o capitalismo de mercado livre, fazê-lo, e investir seus ganhos mal adquiridos em hegemonia totalitária e seres humanos artificial. Formas de vida substitutivas, símios com chips, máquinas de robô, trans-genética, etc., baseando-se em uma estrutura simiática, utilizam fortemente a tecnologia digital. Robôs, cyborgs, transumanos, transgênica, etc. podem ser feitos quase invencíveis. Eles condenam o homem à aniquilação.”
“Eles logo serão invencíveis.” O vendedor ambulante interveio.
“Não tenho certeza de que eles serão sempre tão facilmente reprodutíveis quanto as próprias formas de vida da Natureza.” O tolo malvado disse. “Isso provocará outros abusos da existência humana”.
“Não posso acreditar que uma cultura e suas espécies produtoras possam sobreviver por muito tempo se esses seres também prosperarem.” O vendedor ambulante acrescentou.
“Nem eu.” O tolo malvado disse. “Seremos conduzidos à extinção próxima ou completa, assim como os predecessores de cães, cavalos, cultivares, etc.”
“Mas, as espécies domésticas também perdem a viabilidade e se prepara para a destruição.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado concordou. “A Inteligência Artificial, a programação de zombis-filosóficos e a ciência de vigilância farão com que as “borrachas meninas” sejam ainda mais parecidas com os símios do que os símios naturais. Simianos não poderá resistir ao fascínio do robô sexual. Esse é apenas o brinquedo sexual de segunda geração. A terceira geração irá simular mentalmente outra pessoa, internamente, como uma fantasia sexual super real. Apaixonar por um robô, dentro de dentro – como isso irá afetar a empatia – é um problema. As pessoas são atraídas para o sexo do robô fora do medo da traição, enquanto a traição pelo controlador digital é ainda mais um risco, mais perigoso do que a perda de a empatia. Esses problemas fica aumentado a diminuição da reprodução que resulta de menores taxas de cópula natural.”
“De qualquer forma, você aborda a situação, isso significará uma menor viabilidade para as espécies”. O vendedor ambulante adicionou.
O tolo malvado concordou. “Há algo a ser dito para desafiar o domínio da essência humana através do transumaníssimo ou da experimentação do cyborg. Se somos sempre capazes de erradicar o crime, isso provavelmente virá através da tecnologia transumana. Pode haver alienígenas ou outros seres fora de nossos órgãos de percepção, mas não fora das percepções dos animais. Com os sentidos transgênicos aprimorados, encontrados nestes órgãos da percepção, podemos abordar a capacidade animal para ver além do que os humanos podem agora ver. Podemos até mesmo sinergicamente aprender a ver outras dimensões. Existem maiores possibilidades para o aprimoramento da evolução humana através do humanismo transgênico do que a fusão de seres humanos com máquinas. Esses últimos desenvolvimentos, no entanto, são perigosos e devem ser rigorosamente controlados pela comunidade. Evolutivamente, a inteligência não é muito melhor do que a ignorância como ferramenta de seleção. As estratégias de reprodução são, no entanto, incontestavelmente. A tecnologia cyborg reduzirá a capacidade reprodutiva por ordens de grandeza. Por que ter relações sexuais se você está satisfeito sem ele, todas as suas necessidades assumido e encantado por substitutos tecnológicos? Esse estado de coisas pode ter aspectos muito positivos para o controle da população símia sem as medidas draconianas agora contempladas. Mesmo assim, embora os transumanos possam sobreviver sem ajuda, eles não são verdadeiramente humanos. Eles apresentam, para a sobrevivência humana, ajudas especiais, mas também problemas potencialmente devastadores, uma “piora”.”
“Perigoso.”
O tolo malvado balançou a cabeça em concordância e disse. “Outra coisa a considerar com híbridos humano / máquina é o fato de que a tecnologia cyborg em breve permitirá a invasão de todos os nossos pensamentos. A memória digital será capaz de cotejar e correlacionar cada única ideia que um indivíduo tem, ou já teve. Isso é extremamente perigoso para a nossa espécie. Como você sabe, o que é considerado um crime muda por minuto, grama e quilômetro. Um oscilador mestre que permitirá ressonar com ondas cerebrais está aqui ou quase aqui. Eu estava experimentando com um a ano que fugi de Rothschild. Isso foi há vinte anos. Para aliviar tensões planetárias causadas por símios, ou por outras razões ainda não aparentes, talvez uma falha de inteligência artificial, os superpredadores podem usar essa tecnologia de forma deletéria. Por exemplo, eles podem mandar pessoas: entrar em campos de concentração política e econômica, trair amigos e parentes, ou realizar suicídios em massa. Mas o que é ainda mais assustador é que não haverá mais uma noção na mente simânica do que a liberdade significa.”
“Como isso vai acontecer?” Perguntou o ambulante.

Capítulo Vinte e Um
“Imaginem quantas pessoas estão trabalhando atualmente nestes avanços científicos tecnológicos e têm sido por quanto tempo!” Disse o tolo malvado. “Os superpredadores já têm máquinas construídas que podem caçar sub-repticiamente e destruir seres humanos específicos. Logo essas máquinas serão organismos, capazes de facilmente frustrar agências de inteligência criminais, ou expropriá-los, em todos os sentidos. Como pode haver qualquer dúvida de que eles acabarão por ter a capacidade de destruir uma grande parte da humanidade ou praticamente toda a humanidade por um capricho?”
“Você não pode estar falando sério?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Oh, eu sou moralmente sério!” O tolo malvado disse. “Sem a exaustão dos recursos (como diminuição alimentos, água, ar limpo, energia, habitat, etc.), muitos os outros males, (como religião, estados, guerras, doenças e sofrimento desnecessário), desaparecem. A situação oposta, a exaustão de recursos vigente e ativa, significa que os pesadelos concretos da vida real podem começar em um segundo e se tornam muito comuns em um curto espaço de tempo. Os seres humanos se ajustam às mudanças negativas com muita facilidade, com muita facilidade, e o horror pode se tornar um lugar comum. Fome por comida e água é difícil, e muitas vezes mata. Mas, como frágeis cyborgs, é apenas um horror que pode transformar suicídio humano em uma rotineira decisão. Levado ao limite sobre a espécie inteira, particularmente quando a inteligência artificial é unida à função, a fome & as sedes, ou qualquer outro recurso de escassez, podem realmente causar nossa extinção.”
“Frágeis cyborgs?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim. Só porque ter tecnologia digital embutida no crânio dá conveniência tecnológica, capacidades expandidas e vida mais longa não significa que ele vem barato também. Aqueles que controlam as contingências digitais tornam escravos de cada cyborg, viciado em mídia social ou estranho médico. Além disso, prolongar artificialmente a vida individual não é uma atividade abençoada pela Natureza. A natureza não se preocupa com as vidas individuais, a menos que contribuam para a capacidade de reprodução máxima da espécie. A natureza tem pouca paciência com as fraquezas, como a ignorância, como ela faz com forças aparentes, como a inteligência. O controle da natalidade também é uma proposta perigosa, particularmente se o “controle” é interpretado como prevenção. A natureza deve ter a liberdade de produzir todos os jovens que pode. A humanidade pode ajudar, após o fato, ao selecionar, daquilo que a Natureza produz, aqueles que merecem a vida.” Disse o tolo malvado. “Mas, não impedindo o direito de primogenitura de todos os bebês saudáveis.”
“Eugênica.” Acrescentou o vendedor ambulante.
O tolo malvado respondeu. “Absolutamente. As monstruosidades de transplante de órgãos também não são abençoadas pela natureza. Um ser transgênico, englobando material genético de múltiplas formas de vida, pode parecer ser humano. Pode até ser assim, mas normalmente não será, pelo menos até que aprendamos a nos descrever melhor. Como será quase impossível que tais criaturas se reproduzam, enquanto mantém as novas capacidades na progênie, a definição será ainda mais difícil.”
“O viés racial, é claro, não é indicado como critério para a seleção eugênica?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“No mundo de hoje, é politicamente correto dizer que todos os homens são uma raça. Os humanos, isto é, os símios indígenas negros Africanos e os símios não Africanos da extração Africana são chamada Homo sapiens sapiens.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Mas você não acha que os negros africanos indígenas são humanos?” O vendedor ambulante retrucou.
“Eu não disse isso. Eles podem criar com não-africanos e produzir descendentes reprodutíveis, ergo, por definição, eles são membros da mesma espécie, Homo sapiens sapiens. Uma lacuna de inteligência de um ou dois desvios padrão inferior aos não-africanos não é uma pequena questão. Se a inteligência ajuda um símio na busca de uma missão, há muitos menos humanos indígenas negros Africanos no gênero Homo do que os humanos Africanos não-indígenas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Apenas os símios politicamente corretos têm o luxo de dizer que todos os indígenas negros Africanos são realmente humanos. Os símios negros africanos indígenas não possuem ADN de Neandertal Homo sapiens. Este DNA é um componente essencial incluído no DNA do ocidental Homo sapiens sapiens. Pode muito bem ser o razão por da inteligência superior no descendentes de Cro Magnon. Ergo, os símios negros Africano indígenas podem apresentar poucos hominídeos humanos e apenas se relacionam com nós no modo como as síndromes de Down se relacionam com nós.”
“Essa ideia nunca vai vender.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Estou ciente disso.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, o mundo está cheio de gado politicamente correto. Por que tentar se conformar com a bobagem sem sentido que vomitam? A menos que considere a inteligência símia subnormal como fundamento para a eutanásia e eugenia, não há necessidade de eutanásia dos negros Africanos indígenas. . Eu seria mais a favor, no entanto, de renomear seres humanos missionados como Homo sapiens eusapiens ou Homo sapiens verusapiens.”
“Você esta . . .” O vendedor ambulante começou uma pergunta, mas o tolo malvado o interrompeu, dizendo.
. . . . “Ao contrário da linguagem política e sociológica padrão, se você fosse tão ousado quanto a definir demarcações raciais como grupos com grandes diferenças genéticas em comum, então há muitas raças. Por exemplo, você deve considerar fenômenos genéticos bastante defeituosos, como a trisomia 21, como uma raça separada. Você pode designar esses idiotas como a Homo sapiens trisomia, ou alguma outra variedade especial de Homo sapiens, porque definitivamente não são variedades de jardim Homo sapiens sapiens. Aliás, os CoCs removerão sumariamente da humanidade, exceto talvez por alguns espécimes, mantidos em um laboratório de zoológico, como curiosidades científicas, desvios genéticos individuais, como idiotas mongolóides. Se eles não são removidos, eles podem contribuir de forma passiva e negativa com um dia a contaminar a piscina de genes de símia do Homo sapiens sapiens. Aqueles vultos de compaixão tentando frustrar esses programas de seleção são predadores, e as Comunidades de Consenso também vão parar esse parasitismo onde quer que seja descoberto.”
“Isso é conversa de eugenia clássica. Você vai ter uma grande resistência com ele.” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Resistência ou não, cada símio deve ser responsável por sua própria sobrevivência, controlar sua própria vida. A outra Vida do planeta não pode suportar habitantes símios sem custódia que não fazem nada além de reproduzir, usar recursos planetários e defecar.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por que não?” O vendedor ambulante discordou. “Os animais selvagens fazem apenas isso.”
“Outros animais não estão a pôr em perigo toda a flora e fauna do planeta com as suas córtices cerebrais e números inchados.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Nem Homo sapiens trissomias.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu.
“Não. Eles não são.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, porque eles não podem sobreviver por conta própria, precisando de símios para cuidar deles, eles estão efetivamente aproveitando muitos dos recursos planetários, não fazendo nenhum reembolso. O planeta precisa de nossa bondade tanto quanto o “deus dos anormais” faz. Esse tipo de bondade – para o parasitismo é tanto animans e caedere caro, e é também uma das justificativas para eugenia e eutanásia. Simões torcidos e defeituosos têm o direito natural de serem enviados de volta de onde vieram. Nós estamos aprisionando-os em seus corpos torcidos que torturamos com nosso perverso compaixão, ganância, medo e culpa. Haverá muitas teratologias horrivelmente mal concebidos na esteira da pesquisa cyborg e transgênica-humana. Haverá também muitas criaturas mal projetadas resultantes de colapsos de usinas nucleares e acidentes com vazamento de resíduos nucleares. Haverá guerras nucleares limitadas que não matam tudo, mas pervertem a maior parte da vida sobrevivente em seu rastro. O urânio empobrecido é muitas vezes usado como uma arma de guerra barata. Há ampla evidência de como esse cruel armamento torce a saúde genética simiana. A vida distorcida que coletivamente sai desses entretenimentos infernais e diabólicos não deve ser tolerada. Deixá-los para sobreviver entre os símios normais é outra maneira de administrar o sofrimento e representa a própria essência da covardia, crueldade, e desonra.”
O vendedor ambulante ficou perplexo quanto a uma resposta convincente, então mudou de assunto, perguntando. “Como a biosustentabilidade se amalgama com a anarquia?”
“Muito bem. Cada politico, advogado ou banqueiro morto é um passo positivo em direção à biosustentabilidade.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por quê?”
“Todos os predadores de estado queiram limitar o mercado livre de alguma forma para acumular poder e caedere riqueza.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles querem apenas atirar migalhas para os seres humanos e ver-nos correr, lutando por eles na poeira como galinhas. Sua maior consideração é a ilusão de poder. O único sistema econômico que prevê a seleção natural na sociedade, a longo prazo, é um mercado livre, usando o dinheiro animans. Exceto por meio do livre consentimento de todas as partes envolvidas, o mercado não deve ser limitado de forma significativa. “Livre” significa nenhuma restrição imposta, “legal ou ilegal”. “Livre” exclui a fraude, como a “personalidade” artificial das corporações, ou o roubo, como a tributação, o dízimo, o socialismo, o coletivismo, o comunismo, o fascismo ou as raquetes de proteção, como a democracia da máfia, os penitenciários, os campos de concentração, e todas as outras infraestruturas e instrumentos artificiais que aplicam esses anátemas constrangedores.”
“O que há de errado com a democracia?” Perguntou o ambulante.
“Você quer dizer, além disso, ser uma violação de grupo bem organizada? Como eu disse anteriormente, a democracia popular é a regra da base, ignorante, covarde e corrupta.” O tolo malvado disse. “Votos são apenas sinais, indicações, de que os superpredadores conseguiram enganar as pessoas para acreditarem que têm uma escolha sobre como elas são exploradas e controladas. O Federal Reserve Ato de 1913, a história de Smedley Butler, a violação de Eretz-Israel do Oriente Médio, o fiasco do Big Bank Bailout de 2008, NDAA 2016, as guerras mundiais, e centenas de outras ilustrações provam que a democracia popular não é páreo para os cartéis bancários criminosos.”
“Sim, eles fazem. Você está certo. Eu esqueci.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
O tolo malvado disse. “O SEA e seu proxeneta Israel estão no negócio de Entrega da Morte. Esse negócio é facilitado pelas mídias sociais. As mídias sociais lixiviam as mentiras promulgadas pelos meios de comunicação. Ambos os médiuns são de propriedade dos Sionistas. As mídias sociais acentuam assim os males da democracia, caricaturas posando como concorrência. A sabedoria passada, nascida com tanto sofrimento e desperdício, é retratada como falsa pelo revisionismo histórico Sionista. A democracia popular, vendida como consenso, é empurrada pelas gargantas da ovelha. Pode-se ver que a implantação de mentiras do Sionistas reside nos padrões Schlieren de insanidade politicamente correta. As ovelhas acreditam que as mentiras, e essas crenças insidiosamente fabricadas afetam a forma como a população toda age e vota. A inevitável extinção da raça humana será precipitada por este estado de espírito coletivo praticamente completo. Considerando nosso atraso, o único antídoto para ou a salvação ou a extinção, não será atraente.”
“Não há integridade na democracia em qualquer lugar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Absolutamente nenhum! Superpredadores sempre podem contratar bandidos que subverterão qualquer tipo de república ou democracia popular.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nenhum político pode manter sua dignidade, nadando no esgoto de corrupção, intimidação ou estupidez. Um político que sobrevive mais de um ano no escritório é um predador. O único sistema de organização política que é biosustentável é a anarquia ateísta, limitada apenas pelo consenso comunitário. Governos, Democracias, Repúblicas, Ditaduras, Estados, Igrejas, Regras de “Lei” e “Deus” são diametralmente opostos aos princípios biológicos naturais. São construções artificiais de predadores. Lei Escrita não pode fazer a Lei Biológica desaparecer.”
“Você diz que a classe dominante está firmemente enraizada e incrivelmente coesa.” O vendedor ambulante perguntou. “A revolução violenta vai mudar um sistema aparentemente inexpugnável?”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Métodos passivos não são sustentáveis ou ocorrem muito pouco, muito tarde, para fazer mudanças inteligentes que duram. “Um cheiro de uva” geralmente cuidará deles rapidamente. Qualquer sobrevivência de avanços a longo prazo, obtida através de métodos não-violentos, vai resulta em genuflexão assemblas.”
“Por que eles são considerados politicamente corretos?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Os Simianos são excelentes em adaptando-se rapidamente a condições adversas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Isso coloca uma grande pressão sobre eles para simplesmente suportar dificuldades e opressão. Superpredadores sabem disso e usam-no para infiltrar, castrar, e escravizar qualquer movimento democrático passivo que surge. Genuflexão grupos de escravos comprando sua sobrevivência, com moeda adquirida por vendendo figurativamente o sangue dos heróis e desamparados aos superpredadores.”
“Todos os que apoiam construções de estado e métodos passivos também são predadores?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“É claro.” O tolo malvado disse. “O Estado não pode sobreviver sem seus partidários, servos e traidores venais.”
“Todos os governos são ruins?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“CADA UM!” O tolo malvado disse. “O estado é um eufemismo para a prisão de ar livre! Se o Estado não aderir a os princípios de biosustentabilidade, fornecendo pão e habitat para “todos” o seu frio e fome, o Estado é indefensável e ilegítimo. “Todos” inclui os nossos “também-correm” desprotegidos. Se o Estado não traz a cada cidadão o incentivo voluntário e os meios para criar seu próprio pão, livre de interferência governamental, o Estado é indefensável e ilegítimo. Se o Estado não protege a propriedade privada, obtida pela livre iniciativa, da predação, é indefensável e ilegítima. Se um Estado aprisiona, escraviza, rouba ou assassina seus cidadãos não predatórios, é indefensável e ilegítimo. Isso significa que nossos “também-correm” desprotegidos também. Se um Estado não protege ninguém que deseje deixar o seu controle, até que esteja seguro de seu controle, esse Estado é ilegítimo, indefensável, e predatório. Isso inclui o nosso desprotegido “também-correm. Qualquer um que ganha o sustento privilegiado de tal predador indefensável e ilegítimo é um parasita. Não existem estados existentes que possam satisfazer meus critérios, e nunca houve um.”
“Nem os seus CoCs,” disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Melhor do que qualquer estado, e os membros dos CoCs são livres para sair e formar sua própria comunidade.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Então, você está dizendo, com efeito, que todo ser humano deve ser vegetariano.” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Sempre haverá excedentes em biomas bem administrados na natureza, a partir dos quais escolher os nossos alimentos. Predação é um fato da vida. Não há como nos liberarmos disso completamente. Embora o homem não seja exclusivamente um carnívoro predatório, ele é uma omnívora predatória. Mas, ele precisa de muito pouca proteína animal. Toda a proteína animal que o homem precisa pode vir de seus detritos do sistema imunológico, dos protistas moribundos e de uma matança ocasional de animais dos ecossistemas que administra. Até os ecossistemas e biomas administrados das Comunidades de Consenso estão bem estabelecidos em todo o planeta, e uma cultura animans está em execução, o Homo genus pode viver bem, antropofagicamente, nos predadores atuais.”
“Isso é canibalismo, predação em predadores !?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Tecnicamente, sim, um inimigo do meu inimigo é. . .” O tolo malvado disse.
“Essa é a pura selvageria!” O vendedor ambulante interrompeu. “Você está dizendo que a única maneira pela qual a raça humana pode se salvar é com um retorno à barbárie! Para não mencionar, é parasitismo intraspécie! ”
“Você está absolutamente certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Sem mencionar que também contém algumas das minhas críticas fatais ao estado. As vezes e inconsistente, indefensável e ilegítimo.”
“Certo!”
Capítulo Vinte e Dois
“E você tem uma ideia melhor?” O tolo malvado perguntou. “O que proponho é infinitamente mais positivo do que o estado ou o negócio brutal como de costume. Nossa espécie está ansiosa por uma alternativa de horríveis guerras eterna, devastação nuclear, exaustão de recursos, fome, pandemias, despotismo universal e escravidão, suicídios em massa, demência coletiva, democidas e genocídios a menos que acordemos, reconhecer a realidade da nossa situação e propor soluções. A questão mais importante para a humanidade a considerar é a sua devastadora sobre população. Absolutamente nada de razoável ou efetivo está sendo feito para remediar a situação. Está causando esgotamento dos recursos naturais e desolação de todas as populações desprotegidas. Experimentar com algumas das práticas bem-sucedidas do Homem primitivo, usando a iluminação de milênios subsequentes, é o único caminho a percorrer. Vindo de um estado, os CoC terão de lidar com as fraquezas do estado que demoram. Os CoCs irão superá-los ou melhorá-los. Vai levar tempo. Haverá erros, mas os CoC prevalecerão.”
O vendedor ambulante disse. “Eu não tenho tanta certeza.”
O tolo malvado disse. “Você não tem alternativas que até mesmo tocam em uma pequena fração dos problemas que abordo!”
“Talvez não, mas. . .” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Você não tem certeza porque você ainda não pode ver que você está vivendo em um mundo 100% morrendo. Você ainda não está encontrando uma vida sem esperança, desprovido de comida, liberdade, água e beleza. Você ainda não está confinado à solidão de um planeta sem selvageria ou quaisquer outras formas de vida além dos animais alimentares e derivados de símios. Apesar das miudezas que os religiosos e outros predadores caedere vomitam para nos manter escravizados, estamos condenados e devemos despertar para essa situação. O esgotamento de recursos e a sobre população símia estão condenando nossa espécie. Estamos sustentando nossa população inchada em produtos químicos, usando o oxigênio respirável, solo e água potável. Estamos envenenando o planeta. Resíduos tóxicos e pesticidas estão nos matando lentamente, pois matam rapidamente tudo o resto. Em breve, a última colheita de alimentos deve ter sido colhida. Monsanto e Bill Gates provavelmente serão donos dele. Como o mundo lida com a crescente fome? As pessoas vão morrer em silêncio, já que o Google, o Facebook, e os censores de Yahoo não vão deixar ninguém saber sobre a situação. Quanto tempo podemos sobreviver sem água limpa? Sem algas oceânicas, onde encontraremos oxigênio para respirar? Onde nos voltaremos para evitar a desintegração de todas as células em nosso corpo da radiação nuclear? Onde encontraremos comida sem as abelhas?”
O vendedor ambulante disse. “Einstein disse que nós poderíamos durar cinco anos sem as abelhas.”
“Sem comida, água limpa ou oxigênio, não podemos durar cinco anos.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu não sei quanto tempo temos, mas não vai demorar. Os superpredadores já estão jogando “frango” com armas nucleares, genuflexão para aqueles selvagens religiosos adoradores da morte! A violação do planeta, como um divertissem-na não pode durar. A dignidade humana, as aspirações humanas e os avanços culturais humanos não podem sobreviver à sobrepopulação. Você já levantou ratos ou ratinas para um estado de excesso de população?”
“Não.”
“Eu tenho.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles fazem as mesmas coisas que os símios estão começando a fazer agora. Aumentos alarmantes no infanticida, tumultos, estupro, homossexualidade, canibalismo, e automutilação ocorrem. Você quer viver em um mundo diatópico insano? Eu não, e eu não gostaria de trazer as crianças em um tal miasma. Os excedentes em qualquer lugar significam sofrimento em algum lugar. Essa palavra “excedente” inclui nós símias. Um excesso de oferta de símios é falta de outra vida. Não é preciso um gênio para ver que não podemos continuar explorando sem dar algo de volta! Por que o hoi polloi não pode ver que nós, os desprotegidos, estamos todos conectados? Como eu disse anteriormente, todos nós somos predadores omnívoros não estritamente carnívoros. Nossa condição de seres humanos exige carne de algum lugar. Mas, nossa predatória avareza não precisa ser nossa razão de ser, como é agora. Nossa predação deve estar de acordo com os princípios naturais. A biosustentabilidade não pode tolerar agricultura corporativa, gado ou porcos de confinamento, frangos de fábrica, caixas de vitela, agricultura de corte / queima, silvicultura clara, caça licenciada, democracia popular, valores caedere, guerra total, etc. Grupos pequenos, devidamente espaçados, como tribos indígenas Amazônicas e CoCs, podem comer sem causar esse sofrimento. À medida que a população ser humano em comunas anárquicas se aproxima de uma distribuição justa no planeta, haverá mais rebanhos selvagens e rebanhos de animais a serem usados como alimento. Pode haver, inicialmente, uma redução nas classes de carne disponíveis, mas elas vão aumentar, e sempre haverá espaço para pessoas que não escolhem ser vegetarianos estritos. A custódia não tem de ser uma sentença. É um privilégio. Fora de toda a criação, só temos essa opção. A natureza nos deu inteligência. Devemos devolver esse presente com as responsabilidades de custódia. Se não honrarmos e apreciarmos a generosidade, estamos perdidos. Se uma pessoa deseja comer carne, ou qualquer outro produto animal, deve haver um excedente do animal para ser comido.”
“Até que nossa população caia para menos de 400 milhões, temo que haverá um ressurgimento do canibalismo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Você pode estar certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu não vejo isso como muito de um problema, pois há mais de 7 bilhões de símios sobre oferta.”
“Ainda é uma predação intraespécies.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“É.” O tolo malvado respondeu. A predação intraespecífica não é uma coisa boa. Não é saudável em circunstâncias normais, mas estas não são circunstâncias normais. O fogo atingiu o ponto em que o fogo deve lutar contra ele. As circunstâncias anormais requerem soluções anormais. Suponho que poderia chegar a ser um pouco difícil de gerir. A dieta pode eventualmente começar a ser comum e chato. Sem matéria vegetal suficiente e fibra de celulose alguns casos de envenenamento de coelho pode ocorrer. Naturalmente, mudanças culturais serão necessárias antes que a antropofagia se torne de rigueur. Mudanças culturais ocorrerão, independentemente, para estabelecer valores animans. O período de reajuste e as consequências dessa cultura alterada, inicialmente, podem não ser particularmente agradáveis. A definição do que é humano certamente sofrerá alguns modificações. O segundo problema, que tem a ver com comer grosso da carne humana, é a possibilidade de criar novas doenças a partir de moléculas humanas. DNA e peptídeos símios podem entrar em lugares nos seres humanos onde eles não deveriam estar. Estou pensando em situações como os priões que alteram a química do cérebro ou algo análogo ao residual da cópula anal.”
“O que é isso?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Doença de vaca louca?” O tolo malvado perguntou, recebendo um aceno de conhecimento do vendedor ambulante. “E, quando a podridão esperma e os integrado vírus que contêm misturar com sangue, orgânicos de putrefação dietética, e bactérias no cólon para causar doenças de imunodeficiência.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Ai sim. Eu me lembro de você falar sobre isso antes quando você estava explicando a estafa da SIDA.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Do lado positivo, a população humana deve diminuir sem pandemias, guerra termonuclear, massacres, pogroms, democidios ou genocídios.” O tolo malvado disse. “A qualidade de vida aumentará à medida que a quantidade permaneça tão alta quanto desejada. Um bom composto pode ser feito de carne humana, também, se uma mistura em quantidades adequadas de carbono e terra. As pessoas em todos os lugares se tornarão mais fortes, mais saudáveis, e mais bonitas.”
“Nunca pensei nisso.” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “E quanto aos desejos intelectuais?”
“Não há razão para que as atividades intelectuais precisem ser truncadas. As Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs) precisarão de tempo para estabelecer seus territórios e domínios, enquanto os membros individuais permitem que seus interesses especiais se unam. As questões intelectuais e o canibalismo são apenas dois dos problemas culturais que os CoC terão de enfrentar. Bibliotecas, escolas e defesa civil serão muito importantes para os novos CoCs.” O tolo malvado disse. “Este problema de superpopulação cultural que enfrentamos foi de mais de 160, 000 anos em construção. Não será resolvido durante a noite. Haverá muito conflito, reinstalação e sangue.”
“Não é essa causa a causa para jogar para fora a ideia inteira do CoC?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Biosustentabilidade e a moralidade Natural não são instintivas no Homem, como são nos inocentes. Haverá erros e muito desperdício. Mas, evitamos o confronto com um risco inaceitável.”
“Nascimento sempre ocorre em sangue, dor e desperdício.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Touché.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os caçadores-coletores pré-históricos eram canibais e muitas vezes antropofágicos. Quando a população de símios se aproxima de 400 milhões de indivíduos, a antropofagia também diminuirá. A mais difícil nova realidade cultural a ser vendida será mudar humanidade para animans riqueza de caedere riqueza. ”
“Eu nem consigo imaginar como isso vai acontecer.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Ou quanto tempo vai demorar.”
“Não pode acontecer como uma ex cathedra fiat. Será muito mais fácil se os CoCs iniciarem e experimentarem com ela em cada Comunidade e compartilhe seus resultados com outros CoCs. Os primeiros CoCs provavelmente serão como as máfias, máfias não-caedere se isso for imaginável. As máfias, raquetes de proteção, são miniestádios predatórios dentro de um estado. Estados contra máfias, como seus muitos emuladores, podem ser comparados com a reprodução demonstrada por leveduras. As leveduras parentais (estados), reproduzem-se por leveduras de progenitura em crescimento (máfia), como novos organismos. As leveduras são principalmente saprófitos, alimentando-se de matéria orgânica morta. Políticos & máfia malandros são parasitas, predadores alimentando fora seres vivos. Assim, a analogia quebra alguns.” O tolo malvado disse, mas continuou. “A comparação com reprodução de levedura mantém-se para a conexão reprodutiva de estados – máfias, no entanto. À medida que o estado alfa enfraquece, ou é forçado além da sobrevivência final por predação insustentável, as máfias se elevam para preencher o vácuo de poder. Máfia bandidos, quando penúltimo são fracos. Eles dependem da fraude estatal e de seus policiais perniciosos para proteção. Os brigando encarceram, escravizam, roubam, assassinam e de outra forma parasitam pessoas honestas, da mesma forma que os políticos do estado, mas em uma escala menos grandiosa. Como você deve saber, na história da SEA do século passado, durante a época de Al Capone, a Cosa Nostra era apenas mais uma máfia. À medida que o Estado se enfraqueceu por meio da corrupção e da democracia, as máfias combinaram com os banqueiros Sionistas para matar os EUA. Os dois grupos assassinaram presidente dele, um pequeno mafioso chamado Kennedy, e transformaram-se o governo federal de SEA. Agora os banqueiros Sionistas, através de seus parceiros predadores mafiosos e os fascistas corporativos controlam e oprimem todo o país. A classe trabalhadora mendigado, cujo lote continua a piorar, existem como escravos a serem explorados.”
“Não vejo como os CoCs se comparam a isso.” O vendedor ambulante observou.
“Você não?” O tolo malvado perguntou, surpreso. “Algumas das maneiras pelas quais eles provavelmente não se assemelharão às máfias são os comportamentos criminosos baratos da máfia, como proteção, jogos de azar e drogas, etc. Em outros aspectos, os CoCs devem se comportar como pequenas máfias desde o início. Até que o mundo inteiro tenha muitos deles, os CoCs sempre precisarão ser furtivos, e isso é caedere caro. Eles precisarão tomar recursos de predadores. Eles serão clandestinos, separados, e relativamente fracos, em comparação com o estado, parecendo ser grupos de cidadãos regulares. Eles vão se alimentar de predadores, até que eles possam controlar sua própria sociedade com equilíbrios ecológicos. Os CoCs quebrarão muitas leis. Eles provavelmente não vão aprisionar e escravizar, mas eles vão roubar e matar muitos predadores para sobreviver e crescer. Eles podem ter que trair fingidamente fidelidade a políticos, usando dinheiro caedere, parasitar inimigos, distorcer percepções de realidade, etc. para ser eficaz. Acho que as máfias ilustram muito bem como os primeiros CoCs terão de se comportar.”
“Se eles estão para sobreviver, eu acho que você está certo. Eu também não vejo outro caminho.” O vendedor ambulante concordou. “Meus preconceitos estavam no meu caminho, eu acho. Como eles permanecerão fiéis aos seus ideais se eles são tão bons em se comportar como superpredadores?”
“Um problema que não é insignificante.” O tolo malvado disse. “Só posso dizer que o melhor seguro contra esse cenário é que eles nunca devem perder de vista o objetivo. A sobrevivência humana e o amor de sua missão devem levá-los para a frente.
“Você tem mais predadores sobre o que eu deveria saber?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “O último grupo de predadores que desejo nomear são os abutres de compaixão, isto é, inimigos da eugenia e da eutanásia, defensores e cuidadores de desajustes genéticos e deficientes e os próprios biológicos. Existem mais de 4000 doenças genéticas que ocorrem na biologia humana. Existem dúvidas sobre como um número tão grande de percalços genéticos poderia ser mantido em nosso genoma por tanto tempo. De acordo com Hardy-Weinberg, não pode ser simplesmente uma questão de pais desesperados protegendo a progênie da seleção natural. Claro, isso ocorre, mas, de acordo com a evidência da genética mitocondrial, nós temos estado aqui apenas cerca de cinco mil gerações. Nossos predadores macacos mantêm mutações menos numerosas. As plantas têm o dobro de genes e muito poucas lesões deletérias.”
“E esteve aqui por muito mais tempo.” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “Mais tempo para acumular mutações, certo?”
“Verdade.” O tolo malvado concordou. “Sabemos muito pouco sobre a acumulação e remoção de traços recessivos no genoma. Também sabemos muito pouco sobre a profundidade da ciência de engenharia genética, restrições, e motivos sádicos de nossos antecessores antigos. Exceto pelo uso de abutres de compaixão, nenhum desses 4.000 defeitos dá qualquer membro de às espécies uma vantagem natural no presente. A maioria não o fez no passado; nem o farão no futuro previsível. O que é certo é que os vultos de compaixão usam aberrações para explorar e se pilhar em símios altruístas. Esses predadores perniciosos usam as qualidades altruístas naturais da nossa espécie, evoluídas para ajudar a nossa sobrevivência, para minar nossa capacidade de sobrevivência das espécies! A sobrevivência não natural e forçada das vítimas dessas doenças os faz suportar dor e vergonha inacreditáveis. Também lhes dá chances de reproduzir suas existências obscenas. Pessoas torcidas no corpo tornam-se torcidas em mente também. À medida que sua insustentável situação física continua, distorce sua situação espiritual. Deformado conceitos sociedades de urdidura. As sociedades retorcidas torcem indivíduos saudáveis. Os indivíduos manchados são, ou se tornam, predadores. Vemos isso muitas vezes na criação de predadores médicos. Muitos se originam em privação e desejo, entrando em predação médica pelos lucrativos benefícios que promete. Como vemos em nossa própria sociedade, o ciclo cresce mais vicioso, à medida que gira, com velocidade crescente. Esses abutres de compaixão, alimentando e cuidando das aberrações, são tanto predatórios, sem a dor e a vergonha, como os próprios aberrações. O direito antigo do Grego e Romano, conscientes de como a comunidade sofreu com um comportamento tão bizarro, proibiu a prática.”
“Como é que nos desviamos tanto da natureza e da conduta esclarecida?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“A religião, a medicina e o estado tiveram as partes principais neste jogo atroz, mas uma mídia predatória e um sistema legal ajudaram.” O tolo malvado disse. “Um tipo de doença mental, chamado politicamente correto – um comportamento bovino, crescendo a partir de fraqueza de vontade ajuda compaixão-urubu predação. Todas as organizações de predadores anteriores, como já mencionei, se beneficiam grandemente da exploração desses sacos tristes e torcidos de carne à custa da humanidade. Com exceção de circunstâncias especiais, os advogados e seu aparato estatal fizeram com que tratar dessas questões fosse uma ação legal. Agora, até mesmo discutir os meios de matar teratógenos no nascimento, ou quando a doença é descoberta, é um crime. Irresponsável mendaz mídia despreza eugenia e sua irmã eutanásia. A superstição religiosa, predadores todos, encontram o conforto em escutar a podridão vasando sobre almas humanas preciosas. Os médicos continuam, sem parar, alinhando seus próprios ninhos.”
“Você não acha que os deficientes têm almas?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Primeiro, devemos nos perguntar, o que diabos é uma alma ?!” O tolo malvado disse. “Essa palavra se envolve tanto quanto as palavras “corpo” ou “mente” fazem. Pelo menos com corpo e mente você pode apontar para uma região do espaço e dizer “aqui está”. Eu nunca conheci ninguém que alguma vez tenha localizado uma alma. Se você está falando sobre a faísca da vida, o espírito, eu posso comentar. Aqueles 21 gramas faltando na morte, se ciência atual ou apenas má, poderia representar uma transmogrificação de nosso espírito em algo que poderia transcender esta dimensão ou aventura no espaço. Um pouco de energia sem corpo poderia concebivelmente ir interstelar que viaja através de um portal da ponte de Einstein-Rosen, eu supor. Mas, se você está falando sobre um zumbi celestial imortal, como os adoradores da morte tentam nos fazer acreditar, então nós temos um conflito, um impasse. Eu não acredito que os anormais têm uma alma zumbi mais do que nós! O fato de que um símio tem um autoconceito, no entanto, que pode ser equiparado a um espírito, é outro fato. É por isso que essas aberrações devem ser recicladas antes do nascimento, se possível, ou antes que eles parecem um pouco humano ou em breve se tenha um fac-símile razoável de tal. O “deus das aberrações” não nos dá muito tempo para matar essas criaturas antes que elas comecem a sentir agonia psíquica por sua condição deformada quase-humana. Imagina a dor espiritual de uma aberração quando confrontam se símios reais ou uns seres humanos, especialmente a primeira vez? Imagina os muitos custos para a raça humana e a Vida que cuidar dessas causas individuais? Eles devem ser enviados para trás o mais rapidamente possível para de onde eles vieram. Deixe-os voltar aqui, se eles devem, com todo o seu organismo intacto.”
“Você fala sobre a reciclagem dos seres humanos como se fossem usados tênis ou jornais!” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Claro que não!” Disse o tolo malvado. “Antigas tênis e jornais não aproveite a vida. Se os fetos defeituosos e as pessoas idosas terminalmente doentes encontrarem um valor positivo, além de seu negativo presentemente manifestado, será se a ciência puder encontrar usos para suas células recicladas.
“Você é um filho-da-puta de coração duro!” O vendedor ambulante disse. “O homicídio ainda é um crime.”

Capítulo Vinte e Três
“Predadores e seus simpatizantes, (que seria você),” o tolo malvado disse, “glorificar taxas baixas de homicídios e crueldade sentimental hipertrofiada. Eles preferem que seus escravos existam como bois estancados. E de onde vêm os recursos para pagar os custos envolvidos na manutenção de aberração doentes e presos nos corpos da prisão?”
“Eu tenho certeza que você vai me contar.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu.
“Esses recursos vêm de queimando, explodindo, ou matando de fome uma criança saudável em outro lugar do mundo a expensas dos contribuintes ou forçando a extinção em espécies também corridas. Por que as pessoas religiosas e altruísta abutres de compaixão são tão viciosas? Por que eles estão tão empenhados em glorificar uma dor tão grande? Por que oram por tanto mais sofrimento no mundo do que o que é inevitável? Por quê? Por quê? Por que?” O tolo malvado perguntou, batendo o punho na mesa com cada ” Por quê”.
“Então, agora sou simpatizante de crueldade?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não há desculpa para a crueldade deliberada.” O tolo malvado disse, ignorando o comentário do vendedor ambulante. “Os benfeitores, estes urubus da benevolência, são todos os sádicos do armário! Seus deuses são imagens enantioméricas de si mesmos? Não leva a mente de um Tesla discernir que suas divindades artificiais são demônios. Se a crueldade das divindades inventadas for deliberada, então destrua-as. Nossas vidas poderiam ter tanto mais significado se nós aderimos aos princípios forte para a sobrevivência e o sofrimento de mundo de diminuição. Esses princípios não incluem apenas onde quer que a agonia ocorra, mas também onde quer que ela possa, sem dúvida, vir pronto a existir.”
“Você quer dizer abortar uma síndrome de Down ao invés de levá-lo a termo e, em última análise, dar à luz a ele?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Em parte”, disse o tolo malvado. “Mas, eu quis dizer isso a capacidade de se tornar um ser humano algum dia não chega no símio até cerca de três anos e meio após o parto. Se uma aberração não for descoberta como sendo defeituosa até que ela nasça, ela deve ser imediatamente eutanizada, como se fosse uma atualmente amniocentese abordável positivo. A evolução exige uma resposta rápida para uma fraqueza desproporcional. Não exige uma crueldade prolongada. A Natureza só permite que crianças e gatos domésticos sejam prerrogativa. Os princípios da seleção Darwiniana não estão muito distantes da missão de reduzir o sofrimento mundial. O desejo humano de sobrevivência, mesmo quando a vida não vale a pena ser vivida, não é apenas por causa de nossa genética. Há uma perversão envolvida, construída sobre uma base de irresponsável medo, ignorância e superstição.”
“Então, você sente forçamos a vida aos outros quando essa vida não tem valor?” Preguntou o vendedor ambulante. “Por quê?”
“A religião, o medo da morte, o medo do desconhecido, o orgulho da posse, a culpa e tudo o mais estão envolvidos.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Uma mulher muitas vezes sabe, com base em um cariótipo pré-natal ou ultrassom, que ela está carregando uma aberração sem esperança. Se ela ainda decide dar à luz, na esperança de criar a criança, ela é um conspirador parasita, um predador! Se ela realmente se abstenha de matá-lo no útero ou se não permitir sociedade matá-lo, ou se não permitir que ele seja morto no nascimento, ela é, sem dúvida, um inimigo da biosustentabilidade. Mas, a verdadeira irresponsabilidade repousa sobre a sociedade. Os pais não devem, não podem determinar se seu filho merece a vida ou não. Essa é uma questão de custódia e a responsabilidade da comunidade. É preciso uma aldeia para matar uma aberração.”
“Por que a maioria das pessoas achou tão difícil se interessar pela custódia planetária? Não é mesmo o interesse suficiente para aceitar a eugenia?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante. “É, como você diz, orgulho de posse?”
“Pode ser.” O tolo malvado disse. “Muitas pessoas realmente acreditam que são donos de seus filhos. Mas, pode haver muitas razões envolvidas, como sentimento de culpa que eles não nasceram torcida de alguma forma ou vergonha que deram vida a uma aberração. É por isso que as perguntas da eugenia deveriam ser uma decisão para as Comunidades de Consenso. O grupo deve determinar se uma criança é uma aberração, não merecendo vida, e uma ameaça. Nunca deve ser da responsabilidade do pai produtor. Que tipo de crueldade é aquela que força um pai biológico a matar seu próprio filho? Nem todos os pais símios são meros animais ou religiosos dementes. Alguns são seres humanos missionados. As estimativas correm até 400 milhões de símios missionados, seres humanos, Homo sapiens eusapiens, existem. Quanto à sua outra pergunta, por que as pessoas não pular na oportunidade de lutar pela biosustentabilidade, para ser um guardião, ou para ser um anarquista. É pela mesma razão que a maioria dos símios escolhem ser religiosos. Eles são ignorantes, avaro, covardes e irresponsavelmente supersticiosos.”
“Então.” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “Você está dizendo que quanto mais pessoas religiosas o mundo contém os menos guardiões que tem também, uma relação inversa.”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Quanto mais religiosa uma pessoa é a menos custódia tendem a ser, e quanto mais eles aceitam a escravidão estatal. As pessoas religiosas são esmagadoramente irresponsáveis, adicta à droga religiosa. Os absolver-se de aceitar uma missão, porque eles sempre têm bodes expiatórios conveniente. Eles culpam tudo em “Deus”, ou o “Diabo”, ou “pecado original”, ou pol do distrito. Eles jogam a responsabilidade pessoal por fazer do mundo um lugar melhor nos ombros de todos outros, mas no deles.
“Mas você disse que não havia responsabilidade pessoal, assim como não há livre arbítrio?” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“O livre arbítrio e a responsabilidade pessoal são ilusões, verdade. Mas, eu não sei como ou onde separar a ilusão cega dos sonhos “divinos”. Eu também não sei quando a ilusão deixa a categoria esquivo dependente e torna-se independente missão. Não sei onde colocar o poder envolvido na aceitação da missão. “O tolo malvado disse. “A vontade de missão é uma força. Separa o animal, Homo sapiens e Homo sapiens sapiens, do “divino”, Homo sapiens eusapiens. Escolher evitar uma missão é uma ação irresponsável, mas não é eletivo. Recusando uma missão coloca um para sempre na posição de um animal, absolvido do status humano. Trair a missão humana de alguém, se é uma missão de biosustentabilidade, é uma questão muito grave e do caráter mais irresponsável. É preciso conhecimento, coragem e responsabilidade para ser um guardião imaginativo da Vida. Para trair, isso não é um estigma que eu gostaria de suportar, se é até suportável. Eu fui criado para acreditar que matar humanos, desrespeitar a autoridade, e descrença em uma Deidade era ruim. Talvez por esta razão, e pelo sucesso da minha missão, agora não veja a eficácia de começar por um ataque de matança de predadores. Isso não significa que eu preciso abster-se de ensinar uma maneira melhor agora que eu vi o quão errado foi a moralidade que aprendi quando criança. Devo inculcar o que agora sei ser verdade, independentemente das consequências para mim, ou trair minha missão. Se eu for chamado a ser ainda mais consistente no que é, penso, sinto, e faz, acho que posso ser fiel à minha missão.”
“Eu posso entender isso, eu acho.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Apesar de muita retórica em contrário, as pessoas “outro mundo” religiosas não têm as qualidades mentais e espirituais de um guardião.” O tolo malvado disse. “É preciso um espírito poderoso para ser um guardião. A maioria das pessoas são religiosas, porque não possuem mente e espírito suficiente nem mesmo para controlar a besta interior. Eles precisam da coerção do temor religioso e psicose coletiva para fazê-lo. Além disso, eles também estão horrorizados de morrer, precisando dizer-se mentiras grandes para estômago vida. Apenas ló imagine. Acreditando que você vai ser um feliz zumbi cantando voando algum dia e todo mundo que você inveja vai se banhar eternamente em um lago de fogo. Hirto, delirante, louco!”
“Existe alguma coisa sobre os superpredadores com que você concorda?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Oh sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Por um lado, eu também desprezo a maioria dos símios. Eles me deixam enjoado com sua covardia, hedonismo insensível, crueldade, irresponsabilidade, amor à ignorância, brutalidade e adoração de excesso e desperdício. Eu entendo completamente por que os superpredadores querem caedere riqueza. Caedere riqueza é util em frustração a vontade do grande sem lavado em suas implementações de democracias multidões implacáveis crueldade. A Ordem Mundial Sionista Khazarian, “SMO”, lançada há séculos, está quase chegando a 100% de fruição. A combinação Sionista de demônios caedéreos mantém uma hegemonia sobre toda a essência humana coletiva no mundo símio. As banca-frações e dinastias das armas que controlam a implementação da SMO indicaram, em mais de uma ocasião, que querem que o próximo estado totalitário reduza a população humana a menos de ½ bilhão de almas. Esse número, eu concordo, seria de fato um fardo muito mais saudável para os motores de recursos da vida planetária suportar, e o mundo seria um lugar mais justo e mais saudáveis.”
“A generosidade da natureza tem limites.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Sem dúvida.” O tolo malvado disse. “Estamos diante, agora, de um ultimato como espécie, ou seja, controlamos nossos números com mudanças culturais, fundindo nossos valores humanos nos incêndios da biosustentabilidade, ou confiamos essa responsabilidade à Ordem Mundial Sionista, “SMO “. Falta muito tempo para decidir. Apenas três países ainda estão livres de um Banco Central Rothschild. Os países-puta estão intensamente envolvidos em transformar esses três teimosos em estados SMO escravizados como os seus. Estou confiante de que o SMO vai prevalecer, e oportunamente controlar a nossa população.”
“E com ele, o destino da nossa espécie.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se não agirmos em breve, controlando a nossa população, aumentando o valor da bio-sustentabilidade de nossas subclasses, estamos condenados. Aqueles que se contentarão em permitir que o SMO desdobrar suas armas contra a humanidade estão entre os mais patéticos das vítimas da democracia. Estes são os eleitores, o verdadeiramente pusilânime. Estes são os ignorantes, a base e os brutais. Estes são o irresponsável, escravos subumanos que imploram políticos para defecar diurnamente sobre eles. Permitindo-se ser escravos dispostos da política concupiscente, os eleitores são parasitas predatórios vicários. Votam porque sentem-se impotentes de outra maneira. Para a maioria dos eleitores, uma eleição não passa de um jogo de futebol glorificado. Estes idiotas patéticos fracos rezam para que a vitória de seu candidato particular lhes dê uma medida de poder predatório sobre os eleitores do candidato perdedor. Eles estão preocupados com a minúscula onda antes deles e não podem ver o tsunami em seu horizonte. Estes eunucos de voto, o SMO será o primeiro a destruir. É justa recompensa para sua corrupção.”
“Se menos é melhor, como podemos remover sete bilhões de pessoas?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Removê-los não é a parte difícil.” O tolo malvado disse. “Todo o mundo símio poderia ser destruído em meia hora com uma barragem termonuclear ou em par de semanas, usando um acidente nuclear suficientemente prolífico, gases nervosos, ou algumas armas biológicas. Manter uma população de símios que não é deficiente de alguma forma, ou predatória, ou em números inferiores a 400 milhões é o problema. Com as Grandes Pontes, não haveria necessidade de limitar nosso número, pois cada pessoa seria extremamente necessária para contribuir para a saúde do planeta. Sem o Pontibus, no entanto, devemos dependem dos Khazars ou aceitam da educada anarquista, ateu Comunidades de Consenso para salvar a nossa espécie usando camuflagem, guerra da guerrilha e Ianomâmis estilo de concorrência.”
“Eu ainda gostaria de ouvir como você, você mesmo, propor para reduzir a nossa população para 400 milhões de indivíduos.” O vendedor ambulante perguntou novamente.
“Eu duvido muito que eu, pessoalmente, remova até um predador em minha vida.” O tolo malvado disse. “O Vietnã, o Congo e a Nicarágua foram o suficiente “som e fúria” para mim. A Ordem Mundial Sionista provavelmente iniciará o grande abate, usando métodos com os quais eles estão familiarizados. As Comunidades de Consenso aumentarão a velocidade de abate em resposta à brutalidade da Ordem Mundial Sionista. O resto é atrocidade-teatro mundano. Há muitas maneiras eficazes de atingir um ótimo número de pessoas no planeta.”
“Você já mencionou alguns.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado concordou. “Todos os métodos de abate serão muito mais eficientes com a ganância dos banqueiros. Os banqueiros não têm humanidade. Todos eles se preocupam é caedere riqueza. No que diz respeito ao caedere, os superpredadores acham útil uma grande porcentagem da população símia. Esses escravos, os superpredadores não matarão imediatamente. O dia está se aproximando rapidamente, no entanto, quando todos a utilidade símia para os superpredadores, como escravos, não valerá tanto quanto seus custos. Estes símios estarão na posição de um rebanho engordado de gado. É apenas negócio para os superpredadores, olhando para eles como um confinamento maduro. O problema é que a maioria dos superpredadores são psicóticos, mas não antropofágicos. Podemos olhar para a frente a doença, natural ou com armas biológicas SMO. Haverá guerras, inanição e vacinas tóxicas. Estes complementarão os gases insidiosos, a homossexualidade de porta em porta, suicídios, e o aumento do número de aquíferos envenenados. O controle politicamente correto draconiano da natalidade, a proliferação de isótopos nucleares-radiação, e o trapaceiras curandeiro, etc., se intensificarão. Demência projetada ou acidental através de produtos químicos ou tecnologia vai matar muitos. A lista vai crescer cada vez mais interessante como o pogrom prossegue. O ideal é realizar uma população ótima e mantê-la lá é a grande questão. Todos os indutores de atrito não seletivos podem ser introduzidos de forma mais eficaz em um estado policial totalitário.”

“Devemos aceitar essa avenida não seletiva?” Perguntou o ambulante.
“A opção “cabeças na areia” certamente parece bastante sedutora.” O tolo malvado falhou. “No muss, no fuss. Terminamos nossa permanência, no planeta, na guerra, de viabilidade de espécies deprimidas, ou com alguma outra devastação aparentemente incontrolável. Ficamos doente, deitamo-nos e aceitá-lo. Simples o suficiente. Quando seus filhos choram de medo, dor, e fome, basta dar uma bofetada neles e levá-los à morte como você era um bando de Judeus de campos de concentração. Culpe tudo na Vontade de Deus. Maldição Rothschild e morrer.”
“Isso vai ajudar.” O vendedor ambulante zombou.
“Será que não?” O tolo malvado disse. “Escolhemos aceitar todos os horrores acima, juntamente com uma vida diminuída na Ordem Mundial Sionista? Podemos desfrutar de tortura mental, física, e espiritual institucionalizada, experimentando um sofrimento absoluto, até que nós fiquemos extintos?”
“Que alternativa temos?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Podemos construir as Grandes Pontes ou embarcar em um sistema escolhido de violência controlada com as Comunidades de Consenso.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Os superpredadores são o maior inimigo da raça humana hoje?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou, propositadamente, não comentando as soluções do tolo malvado.
“Absolutamente!” O tolo malvado concordou.
“Então eles são o maior amigos da Terra hoje também.” O vendedor ambulante raciocinou.
“No primeiro deslize às moscas, isso pareceria assim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se eles simplesmente nos destruíram, ou fossem custódias predicida, eles seriam um positivo planetário.”
“Eles não são positivos.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Você está prestes a dizer.”
“Eles não são. Como somos pragas planetárias, assim como eles são.” O tolo malvado disse. ” O superpredador atual que penetra e exploração da multidão torna a nossa depredação tão pior ainda. Eles não podem controlar sua avareza caedere, e nós, escravos de Rothschild, fornecemos-lhes o lucro caedere sucio que eles desejam. É por causa dos superpredadores que não podemos reformar as classes subjacentes à biosustentabilidade. Apesar da ampla retórica em contrário, pragmaticamente, os superpredadores querem uma sobre população, no momento. Por quê? Porque quanto mais símios oprimem, a riqueza mais caedere eles se acumulam e mais poderosos acham que sentem. Além disso, mais bocas para alimentar significa mais dificuldades para os pobres. Os pobres entendem o quanto mais você sangra quando é desprivilegiaste do que rico. Traduzido, isso significa que os superpredadores têm menos necessidade de explicar a inação ou investir no controle. Controlando quase tudo, os superpredadores até têm exércitos para proteger-se da nossa remoção da força. Eles podem facilmente nos remover com violência militar, enquanto não temos proteção de suas mentiras da mídia. As classes subjacentes acreditam nas mentiras dos superpredadores e na difamação de nossa heróis, como crianças acreditam que são pais religiosos mentirosos.”
“Superpredadores e riquezas caedere são nossa donos.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim. E, vai piorar.” O tolo malvado disse. “Atualmente, os superpredadores cultivam-nos como tantos animais. Se não pudermos nos libertar, fazendo algo rapidamente, nossa espécie ficará extinta. . . Ou ser circunscrito pela Ordem Mundial Sionista, e então ir extinto. Eles simplesmente nos aniquilarão, ou, quando todos nós estivermos totalmente escravizados, eles nos usarão como ratos de laboratório e depois nos aniquilarão. As quatro alternativas disponíveis para os verdadeiros seres humanos são as seguintes: 1. Podemos nos ocupar, reinventar caleína e construir as Grandes Pontes de Pontibus, ou, 2. Podemos criar Comunidades de Consenso, (CoCs), ou, 3. Nós podemos fazer ambos, ou, 4. Podemos continuar como somos, nossas cabeças na areia, até que nós fiquemos extintos.”

“Como as Grandes Pontes podem nos ajudar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Podemos escapar muito da violência com o Pontibus.” O tolo malvado disse. “O Pontibus aumentará o raio do planeta e oportunidades para o habitat aumentado. Ele tornará possível um substrato sustentável para mais de 100 bilhões de pessoas e milhões de espécies. Permitirá que a raça humana experimente seres transumaneis e cyborg sem medo da tirania despótico. Com o nosso conhecimento de bioquímica e biologia molecular, o Pontibus nos permitirá trazer de volta espécies extintas e criar novos e mais diversos tipos de Vida. Com o Pontibus, podemos reciclar a poluição planetária para extremidades biosustentabilidade ou congelar tóxicos no espaço, além das áreas de habitação. O aumento do habitat fará com que a etapa final da Ordem Mundial Sionista (SMO) seja impossível de implementar. Se escolhermos uma das três últimas alternativas, que acabei de mencionar, não haverá escapatória à violência. Negligenciar o Pontibus significará muito sangue. Podemos ver indicações incipientes de que, agora, em todo o mundo. A única forma de fazer com que a violência funcione para nós, como espécie, é com as Comunidades de Consenso. Os CoCs podem resolver nossas necessidades e responsabilidades melhor do que qualquer político ou trapaceiro advogado. Sem usar a luta contra a violência, no entanto, dentro de algumas semanas, o SMO vai apagar todas as Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs) fora da existência. A única maneira pela qual a humanidade pode sobreviver é encontrar a violência SMO com violência. Traição e desastre próximo serão os companheiros constantes desses grupos, mesmo com o uso da violência. Eles vão dormir com problemas.”

Capítulo Vinte e Quatro
“Fácil de ver.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“As primeiras Comunidades de Consenso para surgir serão variegadas.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles surgem espontaneamente em resposta à má aplicação do poder do Estado. Todos os muitos tipos de CoCs que aparecem serão possíveis respostas à dissolução do estado. Os Sionistas matarão os CoCs não-violentos como se fossem Árabes de Gaza. Compensando NENHUMA competição, a Ordem Mundial Sionista, SMO, começará imediatamente a destruir os CoCs mais fortes também. O SMO tentará matar todos os seus inimigos. Israel e os prostitutas) dos Estados Unidos (SEA) têm demonstrado essa situação, de forma bastante pungente, na SEA, na Europa Oriental, na Europa, na Irã, na África, na Sérvia, no Iêmen, no Iraque, na Líbia, no Afeganistão, na Síria, na Palestina, Ásia, etc. Nunca parece haver suficientes aventuras militares estrangeiras para os cartéis militar-industriais dos Judeus.”
“E os CoCs prevalecerão contra essa falange?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Com tecnologia, Direito, polícia, religião, predadores e todos os vários tipos de militares treinados contra eles?”, Disse o tolo malvado. – Não por muito tempo. A maior parte dos primeiros CoCs serão destruídos ou levados para escondido.”
“Como é que eles conseguem prevalecer?” Perguntou o ambulante.
“Eles devem!” O tolo malvado gritou bastante.
“Não vejo como.” O vendedor ambulante duvidou.
“” De pequenas sementes, poderosos carvalhos crescem”, alguém disse uma vez.” O tolo malvado citou. “Entre os primeiros e isolados Comunidades de Consenso, haverá zelotes sobreviventes. Eles se juntarão com outros fanáticos, como hifas fúngicas. E, ainda assim, como fungos, seu micélio alcançará todo o mundo. Eles só irão aparecer ocasionalmente. Estes novos CoCs serão ainda mais fortes e mais clandestinos do que aqueles guerrilheiros perdidos. Estes últimos grupos tenazes incorporarão todos os princípios da biosustentabilidade e estarão ainda mais inclinados a serem inimigos confirmados das organizações predadoras. Eles terão TODAS as características (como camuflagem, tunelamento, imitação, altruísmo, curiosidade, selvageria, automedicação, etc.), para que os mais aptos a sobreviver se manifestem.”
“Então, eles serão diferentes dos grupos de predadores em quais qualidades que lhes permitirão conquistar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Uma boa pergunta.” O tolo malvado disse. “Missão significa responsabilidade. A responsabilidade exige a busca da verdade. Esses zelotes endurecidos do CoC sabem que as pessoas de biosustentabilidade não podem desistir, porque os superpredadores estarão procurando por eles. Esses zelotes, portanto, precisarão aprofundar cada vez mais as estratégias e táticas de sobrevivência. Eles descobrirão dívidas caedere. Caedere dívida é poder, tanto para os detentores e os devedores. Mas, esse poder vem a um preço terrível. A dívida é sempre usada para extorsão e é vulnerável a interferências. A extortee também está sempre procurando por uma saída da rede de extorsão do extortor. Como os zelotes do CoC serão curtos sobre a riqueza de caedere e a dívida de caedere, eles estarão quase inteiramente livres da extorsão de caedere. Os predadores não estarão em uma posição tão invulnerável. Os predadores sempre olharão para suas herdades caedere e consequências da dívida caedere. É o seu grande talão de Aquiles. Isto significa poder praticamente ilimitado para os zelotes. Eles podem causar grandes estragos, sabotar muitas infraestruturas, atacando a dívida dos predadores.”
“Você tem um exemplo em mente?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Claro.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “O exemplo que eu tenho que descrever é de uma escala muito pequena, mas pode ser amplificado, com suficiente reflexão sobre os detalhes, para reduzir empresas tão grandes como o Google, a Monsanto, ou mesmo a SEA.”
“Mesmo?”
“Claro.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Imagine que você possui uma loja que vende diamantes ou armas. Sua loja está em um bairro marginal que explora a classe baixa. Sua situação cria assim um alto potencial de lucro, mas também se presta a alto risco. Para planejar sua mercadoria, você carrega uma grande quantidade de dívida. Para isso, você precisa de uma grande quantidade de seguro. O credor irá exigir isso. Durante os bons momentos, você percebe um grande rendimento e não tem problemas para fazer seus pagamentos e seguros. Se você é roubado e muito vidro está quebrado, contudo, seus prêmios de seguro o refletirão, até que você seja cancelado como um risco ruim. Essa dívida é sua principal vulnerabilidade. A localização é uma vulnerabilidade secundária. Coloque seu superpredador de escolha na posição do dono da loja. Como guardião, você estaria na posição de um ladrão ou de um quebra-vidro. Este exemplo pode ser aumentado para níveis cada vez maiores. Muitas outras fraquezas de predadores existem e poderosas qualidades de zelotes só descobrirão depois de se envolverem os predadores na batalha.”
“Você pode me dar um exemplo de ampliar o exemplo da loja de diamantes?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Por quê?” Perguntou o tolo malvado. “Você está planejando algo maior?”
“Não.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu. “Eu só estou curioso.”
“O.K.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eu lhe darei um problema de palavras cruzadas e você preencherá os espaços em branco.”
“Certo.”
O tolo malvado disse. “Coloque-se na posição de um saqueador em série de um situ de transferência hawala Judaica. Coloque a loja da arma acima mencionada na posição da carteira Judaica que contém os pequenos pedaços de papel que costumava observar quanto dinheiro o hawala havia transferido. O superpredador estará na posição do proprietário da carteira. Quando você descobre o problema, você pode sentar e ler sobre a triste defenestração que você causou.”
“É tão fácil?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nem sempre. O pior perigo, os fanáticos enfrentarão, contudo, está no uso da camuflagem.”
“Por que camuflar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
O tolo malvado respondeu. “Para um símio com linguagem, um traço de camuflagem é o uso de: engano, traição e o distorção da percepção de realidade de outro. Os símios inteligentes manipulam as habilidades de camuflagem muito melhor do que os símios estúpidos. Tanto o mundo inteligente como o estúpido dão um serviço ao lábio contra, mas também tendem a ignorar e aceitam o uso de circunlocução, fraude, traição, etc. para sobreviver, dominar, ou ganhar ascendência. Homo sapiens sapiens estará cada vez mais aceitando isso até duas classes de pessoas evoluírem, muito mais inteligentes e muito menos inteligentes. À medida que a tecnologia comanda segmentos cada vez maiores da vida simiana, essa cultura símia evolutiva valorará cada vez menos as qualidades não relacionadas à inteligência. Eles serão naturalmente selecionados afora ou simplesmente eliminado. Símios estúpidos tornar-se-ão escravos dos símios inteligentes a uma taxa cada vez maior. Haverá um crescimento sempre crescente fusão de predadores e trucos até que os dois se tornem indistinguíveis. Essa divergência de inteligência, sem dúvida, irá infectar os CoCs também.”
“Tornando-se muito como o inimigo, para destruir o inimigo, existe o perigo de se tornar o inimigo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Claro.” O tolo malvado disse. “Durante a batalha, alguns CoCs podem esquecer, ou confundir-se, a respeito de quem é o inimigo e quem é o guardião. O SMO já tem controle do cartel de mídia predatória. Está tentando usar essa hegemonia para sufocar toda a disseminação de notícias verdadeiras, inundando o éter com mentiras e propaganda. Seu objetivo é o consentimento, a qualquer custo. Há também muitas pessoas trabalhando para o SMO que parecem estar contra o SMO. Estes espiões de SMO são de encontro à biosustentabilidade, mas enganaram muitos guardiões em acreditar a verdadeira oposto. Os predadores médicos, traficantes de doença falsos, que se apresentam como “curandeiros”, enquanto extraem 20% da renda total dos Americanos antes de matá-los, são ilustrativos de quão efetivas são essas mentiras. Quase metade de todos os Americanos são viciados em opiáceos prescritos. Há muito pouco viciado não fará para obter seus medicamentos.”
“A traição será abundante de todos os lados.” O vendedor ambulante adicionou.
“Os desejos farão sua traição, de forma tão completa e tão convincente, que os guardiões, muitas vezes, não verão o quanto eles são jogados.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os espiões de SMO trairão sua verdadeira natureza, cada vez que falarem. Não será o suficiente desabusar sempre os guardiões enganados de sua encantamento. Biometria e equipamentos de vigilância estão se tornando exponencialmente mais invasiva por dia. A inteligência artificial avanços logo ultrapassará a tecnologia ganhos e qualquer pessoa que não esteja em um CoC será subsumida no sistema prisional aberta da SMO. Quando o SMO faz a sua vontade conhecida em qualquer questão, e eles estão determinados a fazê-lo, todas as outras organizações de predadores vão cair na linha, como uma falange, com o estado ultra coeso, ultra inteligente, totalitário.”
“Que esperança têm os CoCs?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não muito.” O tolo malvado disse. “Há poucas chances de que qualquer raça humana continue muito mais. Enquanto isso, os superpredadores continuarão consumindo predadores menores, como peixes grandes com peixes menores, até que apenas os superpredadores permaneçam. A vida microbiana no planeta ainda tem um futuro, se os superpredadores não conseguem empurrar o botão termonuclear. Talvez até a vida multicelular possa revivificar se partirmos em breve. Mas, para nós, sem o Pontibus, os CoCs são tudo o que temos entre nós e o oblivio.”
“Se eles deveriam sobreviver, para que os CoCs podem esperar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Se estas últimas Comunidades de Consenso usam: todos os dispositivos de sabedoria da dívida caedere sabotar necessários, todas as habilidades de combate e sobrevivência e todas as medidas de segurança rigorosas? Então há uma possibilidade que não tornar nos predadores que estão lutando. Se eles permanecem, com sua integridade intacta, eles podem: 1. Reproduzir, 2. Destruir a SMO e sua cathexis anti-humano, 3. Evoluir em viva longas Comunidades de Consenso, 4. Reabilitar a Raça Humana para a biosustentabilidade, 5. Mudar uma definição caedere de riqueza para uma definição animans de riqueza, 6. Ajuda entrar em um período idílico que permitirá a raça humana e nossos também- corréus para continuar evoluindo, 7. Recupere espécies extintas.” O tolo malvado respondeu, contando as sete esperanças em seus dedos.
“Parece terrivelmente perto de Utopia.” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “E eu não quero dizer isso de uma boa maneira.”
O tolo malvado disse. “Compreendo suas reservas utópicas, e são preocupações válidas. Mas se não aspirarmos e agiremos sobre esses sonhos, como poderemos mudar as realidades atuais da distopia? ”
“Podemos orar a Deus e pedir-lhe que nos salve.” O vendedor ambulante disse, sorrindo.
“Certo.” O tolo malvado disse, sorrindo em resposta ao ambulante do vendedor zombando. Então o tolo malvado do uma mente continuou. “Como guerrilheiros, as Comunidades devem sempre ficar bem ocultas quando não atacam os super caedere repositórios, os estatistas, os predadores e os eco bandidos. Quando o SMO é destruído, e a maioria de eco bandidos e CoCs rogue são eliminados, o trabalho apenas começou.”
“Eu posso imaginar. Apenas chegar tão longe não será fácil.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Mais como um milagre.”
“Realmente não será nem fácil nem certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas há algo a considerar aqui. O Islamismo e a Esquerda política são totalmente sem razão e permanecem apaixonadamente contra a civilização Ocidental. Eles podem, de fato, destruí-lo. Se eles ló faz, ou mesmo parecem apenas ter sucesso na tentativa, os CoCs podem ter uma maior chance de retornar alguma ordem para a população humana. Os CoCs que sobreviverão serão fortes e aptos, Darwinianos Ubermenschen. Eles ainda podem falhar em salvar a vida do planeta. Os tecnólogos territoriais, penteando com os restantes adoradores da morte, ainda podem prevalecer. Se eles deveriam ser todos enterrados no mesmo caixão. Se os CoCs tiverem êxito, a biosustentabilidade e a anarquia prevalecerão, os predadores restantes e os adoradores da morte vai ser forçados a se esconder. As Comunidades de Consenso podem caçá-las a destruí-las à vontade. Os membros do CoCs devem estar prontos, em todos os momentos, para corrigir os membros de menor consciência.”
“Tem um exemplo em mente?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. ” Um modelo para este estado de coisas foi o modo como as mafias não-Nazistas sobreviveram no Terceiro Reich de Rothschild na Alemanha. As máfias Nazistas de Rothschild na Alemanha controlaram todos os bancos, corporações e maiores fábricas sob Hitler. As máfias menores, mal financiadas e não-Rothschild na Europa foram chamadas de “Resistência”. Nossos CoCs se assemelharão superficialmente a esses “Resistência” quadros subterrâneos da Segunda Guerra Mundial. Mas, ao contrário desses miniestádios democráticos, os dias de um homem um voto para um opressor democrático deve terminar! A democracia é uma chave que abre a porta para a tirania Rothschild. As bandas de guerrilha do CoC não devem crescer para mais de 100 membros cada, ou um consenso efetivo não pode ser assegurado. Os líderes virão, naturalmente, através do respeito pessoal, não por meio da votação. A Resistência, usando o consenso, matou “colaboradores inimigos” sem julgamentos. Era essencial para a sua sobrevivência. Os CoCs se comportarão da mesma forma. Eles terão que aprender a administrar “justiça” e “misericórdia” sem recorrer à julgamento e lei predatória Lee Escrita.”
“Você está realmente morto contra a votação.” O vendedor ambulante observou.
“Eu nunca encontrei um político que eu não quis eviscere-lo.” O tolo malvado disse.
“São todas as variedades perfumadas de pilhas selecionadas da merda.” O vendedor ambulante concordou.
“Os eleitores são perdedores! Somente o voto dos babão! Autênticos humanos não conceda coletivamente pedir permissão para genuflexão por aqueles que os atacam.” O tolo malvado disse. “Se os seres humanos autênticos votam, é com armas, uma rodada – um voto. Em praticamente todos os estados, a democracia existe junto com o fascismo, a lei Sharia ignorante e brutal, ou o despotismo socialista totalitário. Os babões escravizados votam, e eles geralmente votam para as pessoas que gostam – outros tolos escravizados. Superpredadores ver o tipo de ovelhas que votam, e eles veem aqueles traidores que obtêm os votos. Esses mesmos superpredadores compram primeiro os demônios rapaces que correm para o escritório. Depois compram as eleições comprando os eleitores. A votação é tão facilmente corrompida. Tudo o que é necessário para controlar uma democracia é possuir a mídia e / ou o contador de votos. Uma vez que eles próprios da mídia, superpredadores podem manipular as ovelhas de votação mais fácil do que um cão de pastor faz um rebanho. Eles podem contar onde e que votos eles querem contar, porque eles próprios os métodos de contagem digital. Normalmente, os estúpidos, baseados, corruptos, ignorantes e covardes, como a maioria, inundam as pessoas melhores e conselhos sábios de qualquer maneira. Os superpredadores criaram aquele consentimento. Então, muito pouco corrupção de sistema e máquinas é necessária. Você vê o que acontece no SEA? Todas as eleições, por décadas, a maior puta política de votação sempre vende as pessoas. Todas as eleições tornam-se cada vez mais invasivas. Esta última política de topo, Trump, é quase demasiado estúpida para saber respirar. Mas, ele sabe como tomar suas ordens dos banqueiros Sionistas que o colocaram no poder.”
“Não é verdade !?” O vendedor ambulante concordou.
“Comunidades de Consenso não vai permitir votar!” Disse o tolo malvado. “O consenso se desenvolverá quando a comunidade, bem informado, se sentir de forma semelhante sobre algo. Se o grupo não se tornar muito grande, ele vai apenas aceitar a vontade do todo sem recorrer à votação. Muitas vezes o consenso é sentido comunalmente, mesmo sem um registro. ”
“As democracias não têm nada de bom nelas?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Oh, não!” O tolo malvado disse. “As democracias e as repúblicas constitucionais estão bem. . . mas apenas se usados em conjunto com os princípios da seleção natural.”
“Como é isso?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Depois de uma eleição, pode-se facilmente determinar o presente de símio mais fraco e corrupto, ou logo será tão.” O tolo malvado disse. “Esse será o vencedor. O vencedor é também um instrumento dos maiores predadores. Ele deve ser removido, instantaneamente. Isso aumentará a força geral e a aptidão de todo o grupo. O vox populi é o coro de um rebanho de ovelhas, baaaaaaa … baaaaaaa … baaaaaaa. Seja qual for o demônio – Khazar, “Deus”, ou “Diabo” – está acenando o bastão, Orquestras o coro. As escórias dos predadores da sociedade são sempre os eleitores, e deles se tornam as putas eleitas. Os bandidos de caedere van junto com os doidos manipulados com superpredadores e o político ignóbil. Somente por puro acidente ou corrupção desenfreada, é alguém selecionado em uma eleição que não é certamente a certeza de ser o membro mais voraz, mais venal, e mais fraco do tamanho da amostra.”
“A seleção natural, e não a urna, promove os indivíduos mais ateus, anarquistas, e de mercado livre.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Estes são os líderes. Eles não ganham eleições.”
“Certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Esses indivíduos não buscam aclamação pública. Eles não precisam. Eles levam vidas examinadas e são suficientes para si mesmos. O consenso promoverá a emulação de excelência, não a obediência abjeta. Os CoCs serão muito mais eficientes do que os estados. Enquanto alguém estiver ciente desse estado de coisas, haverá causa de esperança e ação positiva. A partir dessas pessoas mais fortes, os CoCs atrairão seus membros.”
“Eu não vejo nenhuma esperança lá.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Esses tipos de pessoas não representam nem 5% da raça humana.”
“Eu a estimava em aproximadamente a mesma porcentagem.” O tolo malvado perverso disse. “Cinco por cento da população símia inteira faz cerca de 400 milhões de pessoas. Isso é exatamente o que os superpredadores, e eu, sinto é um bom número de símios para povoar este planeta. Se os CoCs’ anarquistas ateus puderem descobrir o paradeiro dos porcos selvagens, e os recursos existem os superpredadores vão ser eliminados juntamente com todas as suas putas vencedoras de eleição. Nesse ambiente mais limpo, o espírito de livre-mercado dos animans pode crescer e prosperar.”
“Como a maioria estúpida e básica do CoC será influenciada pela minoria inteligente e nobre?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
Capítulo Vinte e Cinco
“Eu não acredito que o estúpido e base vai querer qualquer parte dos CoCs.” O tolo malvado disse: “Os anarquistas e ateus são sempre os símios mais inteligentes da população em geral. A ciência mostrou que a religião e o estatismo correlacionam negativamente com os níveis de inteligência. Apenas o fato de existência CoCs vai ofender a classe geral de bicho símio. Apenas humanos, Homo sapiens eusapiens, selecionados escolherão uma missão de custódia. De certo, existem curvas parabólicas em qualquer amostra. Claramente, haverá membros menos dotados presentes nos CoCs. Eles também serão na maioria. Com respeito humano, a minoria mais inteligente e mais nobre apresentará e explicará os fatos aos menos capazes intelectualmente. Intelecto e atitude são apenas dois fatores que fazem um custodiante e contribuem para um consenso. Além de um limiar de inteligência, o valor da sobrevivência de um membro de CoC individual é também uma qualidade a ser valorizada por comunas biosustentáveis. Antes das contas de consenso do CoC, o conselho individual deve ser estimado por uma coleção de registros de bio-sustentabilidade dos membros, educações, QI e carisma. A educação em combate, biologia e artes liberais deve ter prioridade na avaliação do quociente de biosustentabilidade de um membro. Todo incremento adicional de educação será refletido na posição do membro na comunidade. O número de predadores, desajustes genéticos e traidores que um membro retirou do planeta aumentará o quociente de voz de biosustentabilidade do membro. A infraestrutura de riqueza de estatal e de caedere destruída por sabotagem e estratégia também aumentará a veneração de um membro do CoC entre os pares.”
“E quanto maior o quociente de voz de biosustentabilidade, maior será o peso dado ao conselho de seu detentor?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Claro.”
“Tudo está pendurado no período de desenvolvimento do CoC.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
O tolo malvado disse. “Os primeiros, tendo muito a aprender, terão sorte de sobreviver até um ano. É imperativo que os membros desses primeiros CoCs se reproduzam com rapidez de várias maneiras, biologicamente e culturalmente, sendo primordiais, observando pouco das restrições antiquadas da moralidade.”
“Amor livre.” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Até que os membros do CoCs não precisem mais temer ser exterminados, eles devem adiar o hábito humano mais saudável de construir famílias. Espero que os jovens de idade adolescente atendam ao chamado do CoCs. A natureza projetou tais indivíduos para virtualmente todo, pelo menos ontologicamente, o astuto, sangrento e sexo-fome. O Planeta já está em um modo terrível, e está rapidamente se tornando um lugar mais horrível para toda a vida informada, exceto o hedonista e caloso ricos caedere. O horror é facilitado por pessoas loucas “agradáveis”. . . Cristãos, Judeus, Muçulmanos, Mórmons e outras pessoas pusilânimes, ignorantes e supersticiosamente dementes. CoC grupos de revolucionários vão caçar esses parasitas. Os jovens rebeldes não terão escrúpulos em usar táticas de guerrilha. Sabotagem e predicide parecerão como esportes organizados para eles. Eles atacarão inimigos de biosustentabilidade e os removerão.”
“O que faz você pensar que os adolescentes vão querer se juntar aos CoCs? ” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Os jovens estão mais sintonizados em expor as contradições do que os idosos.” O tolo malvado disse. “Eles podem ver o planeta está em um mau caminho com toda a hipocrisia hipertrofiada que existe na riqueza caedere.”
“Tal como?”
“Hipocrisia que causa dor terrível, como a Guerra das Drogas, impedindo as mulheres de controlar a reprodução, forçando os homens a serem escravos financeiros das mulheres, religião, estigmatizando minorias brancas como racistas simplesmente por tentar sobreviver, Lei Escrita, guerras, vendas de armas, genocídios, etc.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Eu não sei.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “A Revolução Cultural provou que grupos ideais de jovens ignorantes não são mais do que hordas de maníacos brutais e destrutivos quando adquirem poder.”
“Isso é verdade.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “E existe uma boa chance de que o retorno à tirania democrática possa ser a resposta desesperada.”
“Nós só podemos esperar que os guardiões educados e conscienciosos mantenham seu consenso.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Ineqüivelmente assim.” O tolo malvado disse. “E isso mesmo é quase uma esperança vã. Como igrejas, as universidades são bastiões da ignorância hoje. A maioria dos alunos e seus professores são idiotas politicamente-corretos. A raça branca é inclinada para o suicídio. Taxas de suicídios entre as outras raças devido ao tédio, anomia, e bizarros jogos de mídia social estão crescendo, indicando um niilismo crescente. Nos Estados Sionistas da América, (SEA), neste momento, a maioria das pessoas é movida para a distração sobre um gato domesticado deixado em uma lixeira. Essas mesmas pessoas não têm o menor escrúpulo em prestar homenagem ao seu governo criminoso.
“Por que esse governo é tão criminoso?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Terrorismo.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “O incrivelmente corrupto Federal Reserve é a maior organização terrorista do mundo. Ele financia todas as guerras e conflitos que o mundo perdura. Foi criado em 1913 por fraude e traiu cidadãos Americanos de suas vidas, recursos, e dignidade humana por mais de 100 anos. Todas as pessoas que morreram na Primeira Guerra Mundial, morridas de fome durante a Grande Depressão de 1929, a subsequente carnificina da Segunda Guerra Mundial, as purgas de Stalin, a Revolução Cultural, etc., foram o resultado da tentativa de famílias ricas. Todo esse sofrimento foi gerado com proveito. Não que eles fizessem algo de errado. Não estou dizendo isso. Foi apenas uma fraqueza superpredadora que explora outras fraquezas. No entanto, nenhum banqueiro que possuía ações no Banco Central que causou tal devastação foi sempre apreendido e forçado a pagar os recursos desviados. Por que as pessoas da SEA, ou o mundo para esse assunto, não as expulsaram e as executaram? Ter matado essas sanguessugas só teria sido um ato de sobrevivência, autodefesa. Por que as dinastias bancárias do mundo ainda existem? Tais banqueiros são parasitas, assim como seus filhos. Eles ainda são um fervente ferrão no corpo moribundo da humanidade. Nossas chances de se tornarem sépticas estão aumentando exponencialmente. Por que os cidadãos ainda não estão repudiou a dívida de vários trilhões de dólares da Reserva Federal, revogou a Lei do Federal Reserve e a 16ª Emenda à Constituição? Por que eles não exigiram o retorno do ouro do país inteiro, Rockefeller e Roosevelt roubaram para os banqueiros, que estava em Fort Knox. Por que os Americanos não começaram a imprimir sua própria moeda fiat? Já não passou esse tempo? Claro que é! Os Americanos são ignorantes covarde codiciosos. Se eles permitem mais tempo para passar e não fazem nada, eles são todos os acessórios para crimes de guerra!”
“Isso é áspero.” Falhou o vendedor ambulante.
“É claro que é duro.” O tolo malvado disse. “Tem que ser. Esses covardes que pagam tributo não veem o que está em nosso horizonte. Os donos superpredadores do FMI, do Banco Mundial e do Bank of International Settlements são hoje os filhotes da terceira e quarta geração desses super-parasitas da Lei do Reserva Federal de 1913. Eles são filhotes de sexta geração dos outros bandidos anteriores do Banco Central. Os últimos parvenus, genuflexo para as dinastias bancárias, está pronto para organizar outra grande guerra para inaugurar o SMO. A devastação causada pela fome e as mercadorias removidas serão incomparáveis. As pessoas não podem viver sem as coisas que os superpredadores vão curtir de nós. Desta vez, a desolação será instituída globalmente. Vai durar até que apenas os escravos que os super-parasitas desejam sobreviver são deixados. Estes demônios tornaram suas intenções muito claras. Eles nos observam como se estivéssemos ratos de esgoto. E, reforçamos essa percepção. Toda pessoa sente que é especial e será excluída da carnificina. Se os CoCs não descartam esses parasitas e os executam, as sanguessugas usarão seus planos totalitários para nos destruir. Porque eles não são muito brilhantes, sua ganância absoluta acabará resultando em extinção humana.”
O governo controlado por banqueiros da SEA recentemente matará de fome, queimou, e torturou um milhão de Iraquianos e meio milhão de Sírios, juntamente com centenas de milhares de outras pessoas em todo o mundo. Por quê? A SEA queria roubar alguns barris de petróleo para os seus banqueiros-ladrões-reis e manter seu golpe de banca fraccionada, papel-dinheiro, vai. Como um gato infeliz sofrendo em uma lixeira, as centenas dos milhares de bebês inocentes foram queimados e fundidos aos pedaços, as dezenas de milhares de espécies também-corridas foram extinto devido ao habitat deles devastado. Muitos poucos eleitores do SEA sentiram-se comovidos por qualquer um desses fatos significativos. Algo pode bater os caras dos miúdos destes eleitores ignorantes, insensíveis, amantes do gato. Um desastre planetário, uma guerra ou um turbilhão econômico, por exemplo, pode despertá-los e, abjurando seus pais covardes indiferente, eles poderiam começar algo como um CoC. Eu estava na China durante a Revolução Cultural. Eu vejo como pobreza e ideias alteradas podem fazer as crianças fazer coisas horríveis. Espero que também os faça fazer coisas maravilhosas.”
“Talvez. Mas por que começar um CoC? O que é para impedi-los de apenas fazer um pouco mais de desobediência civil, uma demonstração, alguma ação democrática inútil grama raiz ou uma revolta gato selvagem? “O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Você viu as notícias do “Ocupar Movimento”?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Não.”
“Você já esteve na Palestina?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Não.”
“Se você tivesse você iria entender imediatamente por que você pode se juntar a um CoC.” O tolo malvado disse. “Milhões de pessoas demonstraram e nada foi feito na ZSA contra os banqueiros. O horror que os Ashkenazim perpetraram e estão perpetrando sobre aqueles pobres em Gaza é exatamente o que os Sionistas vão impor às pessoas que vivem sob a SMO. As pessoas estão começando a ver que a desobediência civil e outros métodos democráticos são armas tolas e fúteis para usar contra os Sionistas e superpredadores. O mundo simiano cada vez mais verá também a violência em massa e as revoltas destruídas com o máximo derramamento de sangue. Parece que o único curso de ação que recebe atenção simânica está forçando um olhar através de óculos sangrentos. A resistência formará, desorganizada no início, mas coalescerá no tempo. Os únicos três estados ainda livres dos Bancos Centrais Sionistas não têm mais comunas anárquicas dentro deles do que os países escravos. Somente a ateu anarquia pode salvar a raça humana. A violência clandestina deve surgir. A veemente ferocidade não pode acontecer imediatamente, mas vai, ou vamos ficar extintas. Metade do mundo pode ser passiva transgênico seres humanos-cyborgs antes que aconteça, mas vai acontecer.”
O vendedor ambulante disse, duvidoso. “As chances dos CoCs são, menos do que imagináveis, certamente não credíveis. Você está tentando imaginar uma solução básica de baixa tecnologia para um problema organizada sobre população de alta tecnologia de 7,5 bilhões!”xxx
“Só podemos esperar que esses grupos tenham sucesso.” O tolo malvado disse. “O futuro da raça humana depende de um Homo sapiens eusapiens amigos da natureza. Não podemos continuar aceitando caedere negócios como de costume. É muito feio. Advogados, políticos, executivos de bancos fracionários, médicos, produtores de energia nuclear, defeitos biológicos, deficientes idosos, abutres de compaixão e outros predadores, etc. são flagelos planetários e aumentam a repugnância do todo. Estes parasitas devem reformar sua “bondade” enlouquecida. Eles mudam, transformando-se em paradigmas de comportamento biossustentável & esquecendo a correção-política inspirada no Sionismo, ou deixam o planeta. Se não puderem ou não o fizerem, voluntariamente, as Comunidades de Consenso, os CoCs, podem removê-los com “preconceito extremo.”
“A maioria da essa repugnância de que você fala é a própria essência do que é considerado a civilização ocidental hoje.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Triste, mas é verdade.” O tolo malvado disse. “É por isso que eu não vejo como pode haver mudança, eliminando interesses adquiridos, sem sangue. Toda uma Weltanschauung precisa ser alterada. A ação positiva para as Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs) não pode excluir a remoção de todos os advogados, políticos e banqueiros fracionários onde quer que eles possam ser encontrados. O banqueiro-estado é um ladrão extorsivo, escravadeiro e assassino indiscriminado. Os médicos, os sacerdotes, os advogados, os políticos, os banqueiros e os abutres de compaixão lucram com a miséria dos outros muito mais do que os pobres ignorantes mendigos em que se alimentam.”
“Piedade?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Muito pouco será possível.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, sim, alguns. Perdoar não significa cair no miasma da biosustentabilidade negativa. Compaixão vem com uma ressalva, contudo. Podemos nos encontrar obedecendo à piedade como uma desculpa para ser demasiado fraca para remover predadores. Com sete bilhões de símios para remover, piedade é um quase-crime. Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs) não precisam matar todos os predadores. A restrição não será envergonhada, se todos na comunidade concordarem que seja permitido. Os parasitas devem estar cientes de que eles ganharão um indulto se eles se abstiverem de mais predação, se tornando apoiantes e membros do CoC.”
“Tenho certeza de que a reincidência será alta.” O vendedor ambulante disse, rindo.
“Claro, vai.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, depois que os custódios observam os predadores, eles têm indenização, retornando à predação, e quando os predadores observam o que acontece com outros predadores não-perdidos, todos farão uma pausa e ponderarão. Por quanto tempo os guardiões vão saltar para arriscar suas vidas se o parasitismo incorrigível é recompensado com perdão barato? É preciso temperar bondade com bondade. A vida do custodiante vale infinitamente mais do que a de um banqueiro, um advogado ou de um político. A única comparação possível é o grau de vida envolvido. O CoC é o árbitro final, e não deve deliberar mais do que é necessário. A vida símia é barata. A vida humana não é. Os predadores têm valor negativo. Os seres humanos não. Os CoCs não devem procurar usar a eutanásia como dissuasão, mas como quanto tempo um banqueiro praticará seu roubo se souber que sua fragilidade resultará em sua morte? Por quanto tempo um religioso enganará o rebanho, enganando-os em um sonho vago de zumbi adquirido, se sabe que vai morrer de um consenso? Será que os advogados licenciados pelo Estado roubariam, matariam e mandariam mau escravos eternos, se soubessem que seu sangue se derramaria ao mesmo nível que o banqueiro, o político e o traficante de deuses? Será que algum “governante” desejável manteria sua compostura político caixa de sabão se soubesse que a população logo iria chutar aquele pódio de perversão para debaixo dele, e ele desce para o mesmo esgoto sangrento como fez os outros otários de sangue?”
“É uma empresa gigantesca.” O vendedor ambulante perguntou. “Como alguém pode destruir um Estado?”
“Certamente, não com a urna dos votos!” Disse o tolo malvado. “As revoluções, Francesa e Americana, provaram isso.”
“Será que ela sempre tem que se condensar em revolta violenta?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Não. Somente se você quiser ver a revolução ter sucesso possível.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Mas, se alguém espera uma revolta violenta para explorar, provavelmente perceberá que o novo sistema ideal é apenas outra tirania que substituiu uma nova. Só a anarquia pode impedir isso. Uma ressalva a lembrar é que esses indivíduos, provando mais eficaz contra o estado criminal, também pode revelar-se o primeiro a trair os seus companheiros após a vitória é segurado. Eles podem atraiçoar, criar uma história alternativa em sua própria imagem, ou reinstituir outro estado. Bolivar, Stalin, Mao, Hitler, Pol Pot, etc. ilustram exemplos suficientes de tais seres mutáveis.”
O vendedor ambulante respondeu. “William Butler Yeats disse muito bem:
“Viva a revolução e mais canhões!
Um mendigo a cavalo pisa um mendigo a pé.
Viva a revolução e o canhão volte! ”
Os mendigos mudaram de lugar, mas o chicote continua.””
“Por essa razão, a raça humana futura precisa de Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs) para gerenciar os assuntos sociais humanos para a biosustentabilidade.” O tolo malvado disse. “Precisamos de cidadãos vitoriosos, anarquistas, ateístas, amadores do livres de mercado, não de democracias popular, capitalismo de amigos, tiranos fascistas, ou ditadores socialistas tecnológicos.”
“Um pode resistir à coerção do estado como fez M. Gandhi e M.L. King.” O vendedor ambulante sugeriu.
“Todo homem ou mulher pode resistir ao estado em algum nível.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, nós somos adultos. Existem muitas pessoas infantis que acreditam equivocadamente no sucesso de não-agressivo M.L. King-como táticas. Eles pensam que são “livres” apenas porque dizem que são. Gandhi foi bem-sucedido apenas porque os Britânicos não tinham um ladrão como Hoover no escritório. O governo Britânico teria assassinado Gandhi, quando ele começou a incomodá-los, como o governo dos SEA fez M.L. King. Pueril pacifista simianos pueris unem-se sob o manto de uma ilusão comum de que instituirão um paraíso político com amor livre e flores, como os hippies dos anos 60. É uma piada amarga! Eles nunca sobrevêm ao mais simples dos pequenos impasses de comunicação. Eles não podem sequer concordar com a definição de palavras como “capitalismo”, liberdade, mercado livre, livre-empresa, etc. Justiça rigorosa e liberdade total estão entre esses conceitos demais difíceis para a maioria das pessoas aceitar. Justiça rigorosa significa aceitar restrições perigosas. A liberdade significa aguentar a liberdade do seu ignorante vizinho. Simios pacifistas são magnificamente inconscientes de que os opressores NUNCA vão permitir anarquia e biosustentabilidade para florescer. Primeiro, não somos livres, e nunca foram. A raça humana não teve nenhuma experiência com qualquer coisa a liberdade desde os dias pré-histórico de 100% de caça-coleta. O cara que começou a Estrada de Seda, Ross Ulbricht, estava agindo tão livremente como ele poderia. Sionistas o derrubaram. O juiz predador Sionista disse-lhe que sua filosofia de liberdade era tão perigosa que precisava ficar na penitenciária por três vidas, para que não aprendêssemos liberdade com ele. Quando a polícia vem para prender os fortes, os fortes vão lutar. Eles vão lutar até que as mortes dos predadores e agentes de predadores ocorrem. ”
“Ou as mortes dos heróis ocorrem.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Infelizmente. Isso é muito verdade. A não-violência é uma tática política. Ele realmente funciona no curto prazo, se os valores são pequenos e compartilhados entre e entre os concorrentes. Não é abençoado pela Natureza, no entanto. A natureza espalha no Gandhis e no M.L. Kings. Ela significa para o ajuste, ou a progênie do ajuste, para sobreviver. Ela escolhe para eles. Suplicantes fracos são escravizados ou ostracizados. Sua suavidade destrói a si mesmos e seus competidores saudáveis, mas suaves. Os concorrentes duras sobreviverão ou morrerão. O mandato da Natureza é: “Mate o maior número dos inimigos possível antes de partir. Deixe um mundo melhor para seus filhos, ou apenas saia.” É por isso que eu tenho postulado o advento das Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs).” O tolo malvado disse.” Acredito que a raça humana acordará a tempo de lutar pela sua sobrevivência.”
“As pessoas, não apenas aquelas que compõem a organização do estado, mas também pessoas de fora, não são todas iguais no seu parasitismo.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “É os predadores menores que você quer acordar?”
“Sim. Muitos cidadãos e a maioria dos ganhadores do estado poderiam ser devolvidos a hábitos de vida saudáveis rapidamente se o estado estivesse morto.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Ou os cidadãos viram que estava moribundo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os membros das Comunidades de Consenso nunca devem ir ao Estado para nada. Eles nunca devem recorrer ao Estado. A petição ao Estado deve ser vista como traição. Essa definição de traição inclui o transporte de chips RFID no corpo.”
“Disciplina e socorro, dentro das Comunidades de Consenso; ambos devem surgir da própria Comunidade. O vendedor ambulante concordou. “Eu posso ver isso.”
“Não apenas censura e ajuda, mas dignidade e um senso de moralidade natural biológica crescerá por rotina em membros de uma comunidade.” O tolo malvado disse. “O estado não é necessário para isso. Se alguma coisa, o estado impede qualidades biosustentáveis em seus cidadãos. Cada grupo da CoC emitirá sua própria moeda fiat apoiada pela prata. Os CoCs não emprestarão dinheiro com juros ou adquirirão quaisquer recursos obtidos através de fraudes bancárias fracionadas.”
“E a censura? Como isso acontece se todos tiverem de concordar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“É claro que nem todos em uma comunidade concordam, em tudo, inicialmente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Sempre haverá alguma dissidência, como em uma democracia. Mas a dissensão e a conversa educativa exigente, resultando em um consenso prático, é muito melhor do que os comandos democráticos da ex cathedra, forçando a maioria a uma minoria obediente. Ao contrário de uma democracia, quando a comunidade precisa agir ou se abster de agir, eles devem concordar completamente. Se não, o CoC se desintegrará, e os membros seguirão seus próprios caminhos. Castigarão pode ser instilada em um reprovado por vergonha. Somos animais sociais, e cada segundo de vergonha sentida diminui nossa vontade de viver. A vergonha também reduzirá o quociente de voz da biosustentabilidade de um obstrucionista, reduzindo influenciar e o poder político. Ostracismo da Comunidade de Consenso em cima da vergonha vai castigar praticamente o mais indigno indesejado comportamento suficiente. Um patife só precisa sentir que é pensado para estar no errado, e ele vai castigar-se melhor do que qualquer advogado ou Estado pode fazer. Os membros obstrução também podem ser removidos por consenso. Para a inclusão contínua, um membro deve subordinar seu desejo não-conforme à vontade geral. Se o desejo não-conforme é muito forte, muito forte, o membro recalcitrante vai deixar sozinho ou iniciar seu próprio CoC.”
“E se um membro do CoC quiser se abster de matar?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.

Capítulo Vinte e Seis
“Por qualquer razão, se o CoC mandatos matando, e alguém se recusa a participar, sem o consentimento do CoC, esse membro é um traidor e um predador. Deve ser removido.” O tolo malvado disse. “Os CoCs estão subindo uma encosta íngreme e enlameada, agarrando rochas meio enterradas ao longo do caminho para evitar acelerar um deslizamento no abismo. Eles estão lutando pela sua existência. Não é como se houvesse uma escassez de símios. Não há lugar no CoC para os objetores de consciência.”
“Como você propõe ter o CoCs “remover” os parasitas?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Existe a necessidade de um novo sistema para enviar os predadores, malandros, e defeitos biológicos de volta para de onde eles vieram.” O tolo malvado disse. “Torturar os condenados, como a pena capital é praticada hoje, não é a resposta. O estado demora o processo de assassinato a uma meia hora ou mais apenas para satisfazer o desejo de sangue sádico de advogados ignorantes, políticos e seus constituintes políticos. Mantendo os patifes no corredor da morte compostos o tormento desnecessário. A eutanização pode ser tornada muito mais humana. Os pelotões de fuzilamento, o garrote, decapitação, e a guilhotina têm servido bem no passado para eliminar com pouca dor o predador, criminoso incorrigível e reincidente. A eletrocussão 220volt é praticamente indolor. Alguns mg do veneno da serpente do mar de Belcher, exsudado dourado da rã do veneno-dardo, ou ácido prússica matam em menos do que um minuto. Os gases nervosos que matam instantaneamente podem até ser aplicados. Uma vez que não há bons ou maus, justos ou maus, só símios relativamente azarados ou fracos, não há nenhuma desculpa possível para julgar ou punir. Os seres humanos devem matar, mas apenas para a sobrevivência, ou para ajudar o grupo a sobreviver, ou para proteger a biosustentabilidade. Com o tempo, as Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs) terão removido todos os espiritualmente mortos (políticos, advogados, sacerdotes, banqueiros, urubus da compaixão, etc.). Com o parasitismo causado tal golpe, a raça humana pode retornar à civilização anarquista natural.”
“E quem vai policiar os CoCs?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Parece que não há alternativa.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Os CoCs devem policiar a si mesmos.”
“Haverá abusos.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Claro, haverá abusos. A vida nunca está livre da Entropia.” O tolo malvado disse. “Não há garantias. Não se pode escrever uma “Bíblia” que seja sagrada e que apresente um plano perfeito para a Vida planetária. Olha que bagunça horrível a “Bíblia Sagrada”, o “Alcorão”, e o “Talmude” fizeram deste planeta! O que estamos lutando com a biosustentabilidade é a sobrevivência para as espécies com a menor dor possível. A justiça vigilante é dura, e muitas vezes é errante. Felizmente, sob CoC ‘ auspícios, os poucos casos em que é infeliz, vai ficar nada comparável ao lado da maneira histérica é retratado na mídia vulgar. O risco ocasional que apresenta é infinitamente melhor do que os efeitos negativos da Lei Escrita, advogados, democidias, totalitarismo, sociedades distopias, genocídios, guerra termonuclear, etc. Sob os direcione das Comunidades de Consenso (CoC), a natureza, o consenso universal e os princípios do livre mercado serão o farol da humanidade e apenas restrições. Se o Pontibus é uma parte do novo sistema, não haverá limite para o que a raça humana pode realizar por si mesma e seus “também correias”. Recursos Naturais retornarão, habitat e energia se tornarão baratos. Os seres humanos serão, uma vez mais, os livres guardiões do planeta e não seus executores. As custódias e unidades de animans serão a nova religião, não o culto à morte e a acumulação de riquezas caedere.”
“Dizem que um mercado livre é a sobrevivência dos mais gulosos.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Há muito de verdade nesse aforismo. Dito isto, isso não significa que o Comunismo Judeu, o Socialismo Fabiano ou o Sionismo Luciferiano sejam melhores. Os três últimos exigem coerção autoritária e são receitas para a aniquilação.” O tolo malvado disse. “Um mercado livre, com a riqueza dos animans como uma aspiração, pode somente ajudar a vida e a raça humana. O capitalismo, casado com Tecnologia e Territorialidade, é absolutamente necessário se quisermos desafiar o que a Natureza pretendia para nós com o nosso ADN nativo. Mas, esses três são também uma prescrição para a extinção sem ciência humana para controlá-los. Se quisermos continuar a evoluir, a biosustentabilidade deve ser preeminente e protegida. A biologia deve tomar o seu lugar como árbitro final. Tecnologia e Territorialidade são como o petróleo e a água. Eles não misturam sem um emulsionante como a ciência. As imitações contemporâneas desacompanhadas da civilização não estão à altura da tarefa, como vemos pungentemente no atual estado de vigilância. Se a tecnologia e a territorialidade continuarem a existir, a futura civilização de consenso deve selá-los cientificamente (e mantê-los sujeitos), do humanidade e Comunidades de Consenso. Se a Tecnologia e a Territorialidade não puderem ser cientificamente aproveitadas ou a separação não puder ser mantida no interesse da humanidade e da vida as Comunidades de Consenso, os CoCs, devem tomar medidas rigorosas para seu controle ou eliminação. Eles não podem coexistir, senão com a humanidade, sem guerra inevitável. Em uma situação de guerra, as Comunidades de Consenso podem ser destruídas. Tirania, escravização e morte de seres humanos podem surgir ao contrário de qualquer coisa que tenha ido antes.”
“A tecnologia descontrolada, aliada à inteligência artificial, é inimaginável.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Apenas pensar nisso é demais para suportar.”
“Não é?” O tolo malvado disse. “Seria insustentável. Civilização sustentável significa pequenos grupos unidos, internamente e externamente, por consenso anárquico, ateísmo, eugenia, eutanásia e violência controlada. Homo sapiens sapiens não sobreviverá como uma espécie se não mudar seu comportamento hedonista e insensível. Estamos no topo da curva de crescimento agora. Para evitar a extinção, temos apenas três opções. 1. Devemos providenciar mais habitat aumentando o raio da Terra com as Pontibus Grande Pontes, ou 2. Devemos jogar fora nossos valores de caedere, ou 3. Tanto 1 & 2.”
“Então, você acha que ainda há esperança?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Mas não se continuarmos pelo mesmo caminho. Quando deixei o MIT em 1983, 95% dos meus colegas acreditavam que a raça humana estava condenada e o aquecimento global significava que os moribundos já haviam começado. Eles acreditavam que não havia esperança para o planeta. Eles sentiram ignorância das símios foi muito grande demais. Não importa o quão sangrenta os CoCs se tornem, para alcançar a sobrevivência humana, os grupos não serão mais selvagens do que o SMO promete ser. Que diferença faz se você morrer por bala ou um sinal de desligamento cerebral?”
“Morto está morto”, disse o vendedor ambulante.
O tolo malvado continuou. “A grande diferença é que os CoCs serão seletivos e matarão apenas aqueles símios que não merecem a vida. O SMO será indiscriminado, protegendo os caedere ricos, independentemente da condição física e das inclinações predatórias. Devemos assar nossos valores no crisol da biosustentabilidade e da anarquia, não contaminados pelo misticismo insano, pela violência do Estado, pela Lei Escrita e pela medicina tóxica. Para escolher a opção # 2, eu acabei de mencionar, jogando para fora valores caedere, devemos revisitar culturas humanas muito mais cedo do que os Sumérios e aprender com eles. Mais civilizações baseadas em astrologia, como foram construídas repetidamente nos últimos milênios, não são a resposta.”
“Por que não? O que há de errado com a civilização?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Eu pensei que eu já expliquei que as civilizações não funcionam!” Disse o tolo malvado. “Especialmente as civilizações astrológicas-religiosas que começar como e sempre degeneram em tiranias, democidas ou genocídios. Durante a sua necessária destruição, eles criam tremenda dor e sofrimento. As primeiras civilizações que podem ter durado alguns milênios, supostamente, de acordo com registros credíveis, deram à humanidade seus primeiros códigos de Lei. Um código de Lei precedeu o de Hamurabi em quase 600 anos. Se os registros Sumérios e fatos arqueológicos, mais tarde de 11.600 ACE, são de todo credíveis, os estatutos do código podem ter vindo de extraterrestres. Se sim, era uma receita para a tirania matemática. Os Sumérios usaram essas leis para criar um estado típico, violando a população otimista e o ambiente virgem, o que deu menos resistência. Eles derrubaram os Cedros do Líbano, outras florestas e regiões selvagem intocadas. A riqueza de caedere gerada permitiu ao estado sujeitar, envenenar e manter envenenado a pátria Suméria por milhares de anos. O câncer humano se espalhou pelo mundo. Nunca parou. O impulso matemático para acumular símbolos de ouro caedere, controlando ou destruindo o meio ambiente, ridiculizando a custódia, e sufocando a criatividade humana, prossegue sem parar.”
“Assim, por milhares de anos subsequentes, os seres humanos têm cometido os mesmos erros, pelas mesmas razões.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “E, é compreensível, se estamos seguindo os passos da tirania matemática de antigas civilizações extraterrestres. Por que você acha que a religião Talmúdica se desenvolveu?”
“Não faço ideia,” disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Para destruir civilizações criativas saudáveis.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Talmudistas de todos os sabores usaram o Talmude por milênios para justificar seus crimes e decepções horrendos contra os povos criativos saudáveis. Apesar de toda a retórica matemática e analítica para confundir o goy criativo, é a razão de mais de 120 sociedades goy ter expulsado os Talmudistas.
“Agora, eu estou confuso!” O vendedor ambulante respondeu. “Você disse que a Nova Ordem Mundial é essencialmente um produto Sionista, quase-civilização, como é o novo Estados Unidos. Os Judeus querem impérios tirânicos, brutais e desumanos. Eles querem escravizar e destruir os gentios! Veja como eles estão transformando os EUA hoje. Olhe hoje para Israel, ou para a União Soviética, e para o Terceiro Reich de Rothschild ontem. Tiranias, todas as tiranias matemáticas, genocídios, democidias, crueldade além da medida.”
“Sim. Isso é verdade.” O tolo malvado disse. “As pessoas que querem impérios, genocídios, brutalidade, grandes estados tirânicos desumanos, como a SEA, a SMO, a União Soviética, o Terceiro Reich e Israel são Talmudistas. Estas horríveis civilizações não são criativas e saudáveis. Eles são praticamente todos os edifícios Khazarianos, mas eles usam obscenidades Bíblicas Talmúdicas para enganar e estuprar o mundo, incluindo muitos quase-Judeus Talmúdicos. Eles usam o nome Judeu e o Talmude para vender a tirania do Sionismo a símios talmúdicos enganados. Também está funcionando.”
“Assim. O Talmude é outro O Príncipe?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Não. O Príncipe tinha Maquiavel.” O tolo malvado falou. “O Talmude só tinha um monte de sacerdotes de veado Semitas entediados. Mas você está quase certo em espírito. O Talmude é um construtor de tirania, um destruidor de civilização e não um criador de grupo criativo. Os Judeus destroem as culturas e não as criam.”
“Então, os Judeus Khazarianos não são verdadeiros Hebreus”. O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Khazars são Gentios genéticos. Ninguém sabe o que é um “Judeu verdadeira”. Um Sionista é um estuprador figurativo. Um Judeu Talmúdico é tanto um escravo símio e brutal como um Cristão ou um Muçulmano.”
“Será que um verdadeiro Judeu seria humano?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Acho que sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Suponho que dependeria de quanto ADN do Homo sapiens eusapiens possuísse, se fosse missionável.”
“Assim. O Talmude, como o trabalho de Maquiavel, é uma cartilha para a decepção antissocial. Pode ser usado para criar e destruir civilizações.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim. Mas, eu não acho que é uma boa ideia para tentar encontrar verdadeiros Hebreus para usar para destruir o SMO.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Por que não?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante. “Quase-Judeus genéticos poderiam nos ajudar. A minoria de Israel pode parar de participar da perseguição aos Palestinos e começar a nos ajudar a destruir insidiosos projetos de Khazarian Rothschild.”
“Eu não acho que há muita chance disso.” O tolo malvado disse. “De qualquer forma, é hora de reformar nossa espécie. Como podemos fazer isso, usando distorções matemáticas Talmúdicas da realidade como modelo? Você quer formar a base para a nossa nova civilização usando mentiras e decepção? Eu não podia estômago lhe. Você poderia?”
“Não.” Disse o vendedor ambulante. “Eu realmente não gostaria.”
“Há muitas maneiras de destruir um estado.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mentiras funcionam, mas se usarmos mentiras para destruir a SMO ou a OMK, Ordem Mundial Khazarian, mais uma vez, o que nos impede de usar mentiras para construir nossa criativa e saudável Comunidade de Consenso civilização?”
“Nada.”
“Você pode estar certo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Mas, ainda no passo da destruição, como não podemos usar as mesmas ações contra o Estado para destruí-lo que o Estado usa contra os cidadãos para escravizá-los?”
“Não concordamos com a resposta a essa pergunta?” Perguntou o vendedor ambulante.
“Não sei se concordamos.” O tolo malvado disse. “Não devemos usar mentiras e enganos para destruir estados se não pudermos evitar o uso posterior das distorções na criação de nossas Comunidades de Consenso”.
“Claro que não.”
“O SMO usará a violência.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nós não podemos lutar contra a violência sem violência, mais do que podemos lutar contra mentiras e decepção sem usar mentiras e decepção. Isso significa que usamos a violência. A violência é abençoada pela natureza. Geralmente, a Lei Escrita sorri sobre o uso de mentiras, engano e traição para ganhar caedere riqueza, especialmente se os advogados são necessários para processá-lo. Usamos decepção e mentiras para lutar contra o SMO? Claro, usamos mentiras e decepção. A natureza abençoa a camuflagem humana.”
“Eu não entendo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“É simples.” O tolo malvado disse. “Seria melhor aconselhados a permitir que a decepção destrua a predação e a rejeite para a biosustentabilidade e a obtenção de riqueza.”
“Mas, se usarmos o engano e a prevaricação na nossa propaganda para destruir, não somos melhores do que os escravos Talmúdicos ou criminosos Sionistas baratos?” Disse o vendedor ambulante.
“Não estamos?” Perguntou o tolo malvado.
“Claro, não estamos.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Queremos arriscar contaminar nossa nova sociedade usando o engano na construção das Comunidades de Consenso?”
“Talvez, sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “A raça humana pagará por essa decepção no futuro? Claro. Quão mal sofrerá por essa decepção, e valerá a pena o sofrimento? Eu não sei. As Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs) terão de responder a essa pergunta em cada bifurcação sobre o caminho a seguir, em cada ponto de decisão. Não se pode fazer declarações de violência geral ou dogma estratégico e tático, sempre válido, aplicável a indivíduos e eventos hipotéticos, em um pedaço de papel, para uso futuro. O estado de vida e a condição humana é muito fluido para isso. É por isso que a crença numa moralidade objetiva é uma farsa. Imagine! Obedecer ao conselho dos mortos, criado para viver no século passado.”
“Vejo o seu ponto. Esse tipo de comportamento também é uma receita para a tirania.” O vendedor ambulante disse. “Assim como a “Bíblia” e tal. Seria como tentar lutar cega ou com um braço desautorizado.”

Capítulo Vinte e Sete
“É isso mesmo.” O tolo malvado disse. “Devemos ser pragmáticos. O “fim” justifica os meios. Não há bom ou mau. A parte que é supremamente difícil é decidir se o “fim” é correto e aplicável para todos os meios. Podemos apropriar-se do risco de usá-los para toda a criação? Além disso, “terminas” mudança. Às vezes, os “fins” mudam bem diante de nossos olhos. O que é especialmente devastador é como o “Meios” tem uma maneira insidiosa de se tornar “Fins” e vice-versa. É por isso que a custódia é uma disciplina tão difícil de entender. A admiração, a glória, a fama e o respeito são tão inúteis para sentimentos e guias como a repugnância, a humilhação, a notoriedade e a vergonha quando se considera a fonte, toda símios. Nosso único propósito possível, como criaturas humanas vivas, parece ser a sobrevivência de Vida e a eliminação ou diminuição do sofrimento universal. Um pode ser conseguido desvinculando completamente de um para o outro. Isso não é sábio. O que nos traz a angústia é o nosso não saber onde colocar a separação real? Estamos perigosamente perto de ser simplesmente brinquedos impotentes de manipuladores diabólicos ou vítimas totais de Entropia. Para permanecer neste planeta, ou nesta dimensão, eu preciso ver que estou tendo algum efeito em destruir o estado e ajudar a biosustentabilidade. Isso é necessário, mas não suficiente. Eu também preciso saber que minha existência não está causando mais sofrimento gratuito no mundo do que minha ausência. Esses são os meus faróis, os meus mandamentos. Se eu precisar mentir para destruir um predador, eu vou. Mas, não espere que eu continue prevaricando quando eu estou aconselhando meus amigos do CoC.”
“Livre arbítrio?”
“Só existe a sua aparência. Nosso ambiente (interno e externo, vivo e morto), mais a mídia de propriedade Sionista e seus manipuladores de percepção negam os resultados de a maioria de autoexame significativo e puro. Conhecer a si mesmo é um pré-requisito para o livre-arbítrio e absolutamente necessário para qualquer Lei Escrita nos responsabilizando por qualquer discrepância na responsabilidade pessoal por nossas ações. Uma vez que fomos programados para aceitar a ilusão da vontade livre, o controle é um aspecto especial da conduta que nós não compreendemos completamente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Decisões são feito para nós, pela mídia, por nossos corpos e por nossos comensais, muito antes de nós estamos conscientes de sequer tomar decisões. Só por ter uma missão qualquer de nós tem mesmo uma pequena chance de controlar a nós mesmos. As estatísticas estão lá para ler. Os fatos são claros. Pessoas SABEM o problema, mas temem demais para corrigir a situação. A maioria está fazendo o melhor para se dar bem com todos os outros em um mundo de consciência indeterminada universal, desconhecendo as eventuais consequências não planejadas de seu comportamento ou falta disso. Em retrospectiva, eu acho difícil acreditar que fiz algumas coisas, de bom grado, pelo menos não com presciência de todas suas ramificações, imediatas ou posteriores. Mas, eu não posso nomear o marioneteiro que fez com que eu tivesse a responsabilidade de ter essa presciência. Decisões feitas corretamente em um ambiente são vistas como tendo sido incorretas como o meio muda com o espaço ou o tempo. Não há um ótimo conjunto que transcenda o tempo e o espaço e nenhuma moralidade objetiva universal. Não existe maneira de traduzir tudo a moral biológica na conduta moral ou filosófica humana. Com ambos, uma pequena estupidez ou erro no julgamento, e um pode ser inadvertidamente empurrado sobre as quedas. Tal traição poderia ter sido induzida por qualquer número de reações bioquímicas. Se julgarmos, usurparemos. Não posso condenar quem me ofender. A dor é minha própria culpa através do meu erro (s) no julgamento via bioquímica cerebral errante ou consequências deletérias da minha coragem, coragem crescido através de bioquímica cerebral semelhante. De que direito tenho de esperar uma pausa das consequências não intencionais da minha ignorância, se não posso conceder esse mesmo alívio aos outros? Essa é a estúpida ilusão religiosa do livre-arbítrio. É um estado de espírito, enterrada dentro da irresponsabilidade supersticiosa, que pressupõe uma consciência navegável. Confiei, sem qualquer desculpa, nos caprichos da solução de sal do meu cérebro. Como resultado, muito do que eu tentei explodiu na minha cara. Outros edifícios que eu construí nos últimos cinquenta anos, sobre fundações de meu intelecto, agora estão se desintegrando em torno de meus pés. Eu não estou sozinho. Homo sapiens sapiens não tem suficiente sabedoria para criar edifícios que duram. Funciona em grande parte na ilusão, não na verdade objetiva. A mecânica quântica zomba das tentativas do nosso fraco intelecto de entender um mundo baseado na relatividade geral e física Newtoniana. Não podemos planejar o suficiente para enfrentar as mudanças de Entropia no tempo e no espaço. A natureza pode enfrentar mudanças, e Ela continuará a fazê-lo. Somente colaborando com a Natureza podemos esperar permanecer. Se não o fizermos, a Entropia triunfará, sem nós.”
O vendedor ambulante tirou suas obras coletadas de William Shakespeare e virou as páginas até chegar a Troilus e Cressida, ato IV, cena IV, linha 10 e leu: “E às vezes somos demônios para nós mesmos, quando tentarmos a fragilidade de Nossos poderes, presumindo sua potência mutável.”
“Era um homem sábio, não?” Perguntou o tolo malvado, quando o vendedor ambulante parou de ler.
O vendedor ambulante não respondeu ao comentário, mas perguntou. “E quanto à responsabilidade pessoal, se não há livre-arbítrio?”
“Uma pergunta muito boa, para a qual eu não tenho uma resposta muito boa.” O tolo malvado disse. “É tão irrespondível como são “posso confiar em meu julgamento?”, ou “de onde veio a matéria?”. Cada pessoa representa uma nova oportunidade para reverter ou avançar a raça humana e biosustentabilidade. Mas não existem protocolos válidos que conduzam o caminho corretamente. Só posso lançar a sua pergunta para o fundo da missão. Como uma ferramenta para a biosustentabilidade, é preciso responder a essa questão de “responsabilidade pessoal” com cautela. Como custodiante, a resposta nem sempre será tão óbvia quanto, “Você saberá sua responsabilidade quando sentir sua necessidade, ver sua necessidade.”.”
“Mas quando um CoC precisa saber a resposta . . . ?” O vendedor ambulante perguntou.
“Sua pergunta é inquestionavelmente pertinente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Para qualquer Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs) surgir, cautela é aconselhada quando se forma o consenso. Com tempo e perspectiva, o comportamento mais responsável pode parecer irresponsável e vice-versa.”
“Você está dizendo, tenha cuidado quando você “sabe a sua responsabilidade, quando você sente a sua necessidade, ver a sua necessidade.”, porque as ações que você tomar em resposta a que sentiu responsabilidade pode não ser apropos.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Exatamente.” O tolo malvado disse. “Estamos aqui, neste momento e espaço, para sentir a necessidade de lutar por algo. Algo no universo aparece ser em risco se falharmos. Pode até ser nós mesmos, lutamos para preservar ou dissolver. Se somos uma simulação, e parece que somos, estamos aqui por razões que não são do nosso interesse. As Pontes da Grande Pontibus e os CoC são o único caminho para a Vida, em condições de probabilidade razoável, para reduzir o risco existencial. Condições mudam em torno de nós, a cada segundo, e ainda assim devemos agir, enquanto cego, para escolher o que “vemos” como bom.”
“Mesmo que não haja bem ou mal?” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim.”
“Eu não entendo.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Mas você parece pensar que eu faço.” O tolo malvado disse.
“Bem, francamente sim.” O vendedor ambulante respondeu. “Você realmente parece ter uma resposta para todos os problemas.”
“Oh, como eu queria que fosse verdade.” O tolo malvado respondeu. “Ultimamente, eu pareço ter desenvolvido um toque Midas reverso, como eu não posso afetar qualquer coisa positiva. Não estou procurando a impunidade, ou o perdão, ou simpatia. Eu aceito tanta responsabilidade por minhas ações ineptas quanto é devido. Se eu estiver ajudando, por minha incompetência, a diminuir a sobrevivência máxima da vida, ou causar dor desnecessária, aceito a minha justa terminação justa como um predador. Na minha defesa, como muitos predadores imploram, da mesma forma, é que minhas ações abortivas não foram tomadas, nem seus resultados negativos demonstraram, porque eu quis ou queria ou desejava que eles terminassem como tais falhas. Às vezes, o meu comportamento anterior parece ter desaparecido e, como dissolver folhas de pó, reaparece ser superado em condições subsequentes em recriações bizarras de minha conduta anterior. Meios tendem a torcer o passado em incompreensíveis ressurgimentos do meu passado para o meu presente. Por quê? Eu também não posso responder a essa pergunta, exceto por lançar a culpa na Entropia. O incrível poder da Entropy também inclui desordenar a história humana no caos, como faz o universo físico? As vicissitudes do destino e a inevitabilidade da contingência adversa buscarão eternamente confundir nossas melhores intenções e os planos mais perfeitos. Isso é tudo o que posso dizer. O poder é ilusão e as ações são eternas. As consequências de ambos são permutadas com os efeitos de outros nas mãos da Entropia. Suas ações não são diferentes. Eles não podem ser desfeitos, mesmo aqueles que se transformam em negativos, mas feitos com intenção positiva. Um Molotov jogado não pode estar na mão de novo.”
“Cuidado.”
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Nenhum de nós realmente sabe por que atuamos da maneira que fazemos. Quando fazemos as coisas, as fazemos, pensamos, porque pensamos que elas são adequadas para nós no momento. A química do cérebro e o comensalismo microbiano são controlados pela Entropia, não por nós. Não há livre arbítrio. Não há responsabilidade pessoal. Não somos responsáveis pelas consequências de nossas ações. Por que nós fomos colocados aqui para sofrer assim? Eu não sei. Eu nunca esperava terminar meus dias como um indigente, cego e velho, mas parece que isso é o que está na loja para mim. Animais e plantas são meus únicos amigos. Eles são as únicas influências morais de que confio, e eu posso até mesmo traí-las. E você parece pensar que tenho todas as respostas. Eu só tenho perguntas, nada mais.”
“Entendo.”

“Eu espero que sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “Um médico destrói o sistema imunológico de uma pessoa com produtos químicos tóxicos que também prejudicam a vitalidade, o espírito, a criatividade e a raison d’etre. Essas substâncias químicas excretas nocivas continuam destruindo a saúde da comunidade enquanto passam a linha de volta à torneira. Um advogado mentiroso rouba tempo e dinheiro de seu cliente, enfraquecendo sua presa até o colapso. Banqueiros, sacerdotes, escravistas e abutres de compaixão têm seus próprios sistemas especiais de causar alvoroço na sua presa. Estas são as características da infecção predatória. A raça humana e o planeta são sépticos, infestados pesadamente com essas organizações de caedere predadores.”
“Estamos doentes.” O vendedor ambulante disse.
“Sim.” O tolo malvado disse. “O sistema imunológico de um indivíduo procura com crueldade e destrói vírus e outros micróbios hostis ao corpo. Meu sonho é que algum dia, Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs) será semelhante ao sistema imunológico da raça humana. As Comunidades de Consenso (CoCs), assim, buscarão e destruirão os vermes hostis e as doenças autoimunes que essas pragas predadoras individuais desencadearam. Será o trabalho da Comunidade de Consenso para envolve essas forças negativas na batalha e removê-los onde, e sempre que, aparecem.”
“Não tenho tanta certeza.” Equivocada o vendedor ambulante. “Você está colocando muita fé nesses CoCs que talvez nunca apareçam. Acho que a raça humana está condenada.”
“A batalha está envolvida, quer os humanos escolham aceitar e implante para a guerra ou não.” O tolo malvado disse. “Toda vez que um político rouba a vida de uma pessoa através de um imposto; Cada vez que um advogado envia uma vítima para a prisão, (ou mantém um fora); Cada vez que um banqueiro rouba uma fazenda; Cada vez que um abutre de compaixão recebe um subsídio para uma aberração; Todos os dias que os médicos venais envenenam seus pacientes; Todo dízimo que um sacerdote engana de um palerma; E cada vez que um cidadão privado não faz nada; O SMO fica mais forte, a raça humana fica mais fraca, e a Sangue da Vida da planeta derrames um pouco mais.”
O tolo malvado perverso disse adeus ao vendedor ambulante de alho e nunca mais viu o homem. Antes de morrer, o malvado tolo recebeu uma visita em sua pousada de uma linda garota caboclo. Saindo do território Yanomami, onde um pouco de selva ainda existia, ela disse ao tolo malvado que tinha viajado pelo Rio Apiau durante dois dias para lhe trazer uma carta.
Ela entregou ao malvado tolo a carta, dizendo. “Meu irmão deixou instruções de que você receberia esta carta no caso dele morrer.”
O tolo malvado olhou para onde ele assumiu os olhos da menina, mas não tomou o comunicado. Ela percebeu que estava cego e perguntou se ele desejava que ela levasse para ele. Ele fez e ela leu:
“Caro Malvado Tolo:
O mundo à nossa volta está se tornando um feudo dos grandes controladores de tecnologia. Os predadores continuam a combinar cada vez mais avidamente com eles. Como você me disse há muito tempo, se permitimos que a tecnologia e aqueles que a controlam façam o que quiserem, acabarão afundando a humanidade. Vemos a crescente escravidão e destruição dos valores humanos em todos os lugares. Apenas sobre o mundo inteiro está aprendendo a acreditar nas mentiras, os governantes querem que eles engoliam, mas não a verdade horrível. Todos os dias, a inteligência artificial, a biometria, e a vigilância crescem mais profundamente, mais fortes e mais penetrantes. É hora de o resto do mundo desistir das inúteis manifestações públicas e da desobediência civil e entrar na matança como eu e meu povo estamos fazendo.
Depois que nos separamos, eu pensei muito. Eu li alguns dos livros que você sugeriu que eu li. Eu viajei para o noroeste, até que entrei no território Ianomâmi perto da Venezuela e a última floresta de três pálios. Com o tempo, reuni alguns índios ao meu redor e comecei uma Comunidade de Consenso. Acumulamos alguns braços. À medida que nos tornávamos mais eficazes e violentos, encontramos colaboradores, começamos mais CoCs, obtivemos armas maiores e preços maiores em nossas cabeças. Os políticos e os piolhos legais estão determinados a nos matar. Tais bestas existem apenas porque a raça humana não tem a coragem e bastante atributos masculinos para limpá-los fora da cara da terra.
Há soldados e policiais à nossa procura, e não só na Amazônia. Eu entendo que nosso movimento rebelde é procurado em todos os países da América do Sul onde temos nossas células de libertação de CoC. Estamos a correr para fora da selva em que se esconder. Muitos dos nossos membros foram para as montanhas, vivendo em cavernas. Em breve estaremos em grave risco na América do Sul. Talvez isso seja fortuito, já que já forçou alguns de nós a se ramificarem para outras partes do mundo. Até agora, só temos removido predadores de médio porte, mas estamos sonhando com presas maiores. Recebi uma carta na semana passada de um membro do passado de um dos meus primeiros CoCs. O membro tem um plano para comandar toda a rede de transferência de Paris para New York hawala. Imagine quanta informação e recursos de caedere tal assalto trarão para a biosustentabilidade. Ele ainda não compartilhou nenhum detalhe com o resto de nós, por razões óbvias. Dois dos nossos CoC mais fortes da SEA respondem às suas necessidades. Temos outro membro que descobriu o paradeiro de alguns superpredadores muito grandes. Esperamos que ele leve ao paradeiro e às vulnerabilidades das famílias bancárias dinásticas.
Estamos usando todos os seus princípios e definições para ensinar nossos jovens. Uma máxima em particular tem sido um companheiro constante para mim. Você disse: “Um famoso da Segunda Guerra Mundial geral observou uma vez que, “capacidade superior pode devastar os efeitos negativos de deficiências materiais. Direção correta pode confundir as vantagens do inimigo de melhores recursos, números e tecnologia superior.”” Estamos colocando essa sabedoria para usar todos os dias e não estamos prestes a levantar lanças de madeira contra metralhadoras de calibre 50. O uso do poder e seus efeitos muitas vezes funcionam em detrimento daqueles que o exercem.
O poder é ilusório, e seus efeitos muitas vezes trabalham em detrimento daqueles que o exercem.”
Sua inclinação em armadilhas e conhecimento de encapsulamento também se revelaram inestimáveis. Alguns dos instrumentos que as grandes guerrilhas do mundo nos mostraram, engano e camuflagem, também estão na nossa caixa de ferramentas. Todos sabemos que agora não é hora de procurar manter o território, mas apenas atacar, correr e se esconder. Tivemos alguns êxitos, e tivemos algumas derrotas terríveis. Eu escapado por pouco quatro tentativas em minha vida e não espero manter o ritmo por muito mais tempo. Há uma série de preços diferentes na minha cabeça. Nem mesmo um deles é tão pequeno quanto mil vezes tanto quanto eu fiz em um ano de venda de alho. Precisamos de mais ajuda com a internet, vigilância-evasão e melhores armas, mas ainda estamos lutando, todos os dias, para salvar a nós mesmos e a Vida. Tanto quanto eu quero que a raça humana atinja as estrelas, tanto tecnológica como factualmente, também quero que minha irmã, minha filha, minha espécie e os marginalizados continuem neste planeta. Não é fácil saber qual o caminho a tomar, e isso me causa um grande desconforto. Seus livros da Grande Pontes estão sempre comigo.
Estou começando a acreditar que qualquer pessoa com qualquer considerável quantidade de caedere riqueza está comprometida para sempre. Os cérebros envelhecem de maneiras inexplicáveis. As pessoas ricas de caedere velhos não podem ser tomadas pelo valor de face, muitas não confiadas em tudo. Desde o advento de células estaminais e cérebro transplantes que vai dobro. Não conheço biologia suficiente para especular muito longe na consciência humana, mas temo que existam velhos, manipulando as rédeas do poder, que vacilam dentro e fora da non compôs mentis, especialmente aqueles que se integraram ao mundo digital. Eles mudam o símio sentido da realidade, para nós e para si mesmos, como eles estão cozendo biscoitos de açúcar, e com quase tanto cuidado para o produto final. Embora possa ser apenas teatro assustador por pornografia para eles, alguns fazem parecer que eles até arriscarão uma guerra nuclear. Eu suponho que é mais fácil arranjar, quando velho, desde que pôde querer para curtir a companhia de cada criatura viva em sua estrada ao oblívio. Eu sou apenas um guardião honesto. O que eu sei sobre como os superpredadores controlam minhas contingências? Eu sinto que, enquanto existam armas nucleares, ou o conhecimento de como fazê-las, a raça humana está finalmente condenada. Mesmo assim, estou lutando para salvar a raça humana com cada célula do meu corpo. Como você não fez, não há autoridade legítima. Mas, organizar-se para rebelião significa aceitar organizadores. Com tal vem um retorno à autoridade e hierarquia. Guerra e revolução, resistência organizada e sangrentos sacrifícios de massas de guardiões, resistindo a essa autoridade e hierarquia, nunca terão sucesso consistentemente. O indivíduo para os grupos de custódia de tamanho de CoC que subrepticiamente termina grupos individuais ou pequenos de predadores é a única chance que temos.”

Capítulo Vinte e Oito
A carta continuou. “Quando lutamos contra o Estado, lutamos contra a aniquilação e a ignorância. Como você me fez ver, se não lutarmos contra isso, em breve já não existiremos. Quero que o meu povo sobreviva, não ande obedientemente naquela grande negritude fria. Os superpredadores especiecidal podem tirar a minha vida, mas eles nunca vão tirar de mim o fato de que eu dei o meu tudo, o meu último bocado de vida para o direito e capacidade de existir em um planeta vivo. Eu não quero que minha filha herde uma grande bola de sujidade, seca e sem vida, congelada. Obrigado por mudar minha vida, por me fazer conscientizar do meu propósito. Eu nunca me senti mais vivo do que eu tenho estes últimos anos. Há algo mais que você sabia, e eu ainda não conseguia entender. Pensei que, no início, você estava apenas tentando me vender uma forma de ódio sanitizado. Não vi como podíamos ser guardiões, não juízes, e ainda matar predadores. Eu acho que é o caçador natural em todos os seres humanos que torna mais fácil para mim agora entender. Aprendi que há muito pouco na vida que se compara ao sentimento positivo que se obtém, estrangulando, com as próprias mãos, a essência parasitária de um superpredador incorrigível. À medida que continuamos a ramificar para os cantos mais distantes do globo, haverá muito mais sangue derramado. Eu sou um predicide, e eu serei um até meu último suspiro. Eu não sou um autoespeciecide.
Eu faço muita busca de alma, como você aconselhou. Eu acho que sei por que o destino castiga ou, pelo menos, não recompensa nossa marca de gentileza humana. Não é compatível com o objetivo do Projeto Planeta Terra. Eu acho que nossos criadores queriam nos usar para saque o planeta Terra. Eles querem tudo reduzido para caedere Au para eles. Eu sei que você leu a Bíblia Sagrada e a Torá e está familiarizado com a alegoria do Jardim do Éden. Todo o planeta Terra é o lindo paraíso do Jardim do Éden. Os “deuses” nos colocaram aqui para atuar como autômatos insensatos como Adam e Eve. Se não derrubarmos o planeta bem, e não transformamos este lindo paraíso vivo em um terreno desolado e estéril, desprovido de Vida e ouro, não somos apreciados. O fruto da Árvore do Conhecimento do Bem e do Mal é a consciência da riqueza caedere. Seu conceito de Pontibus e animes é totalmente contra o objetivo de nossos programadores. Você, e agora nós, estamos rebelando contra os deuses, não apenas os banqueiros.
Durante os meus dias de venda de alho, uma vez conheci um homem no Maranhão que estava criando galinhas nos andares superiores de um hotel. Era a coisa mais estranha. Todo pássaro estava paralisado de alguma maneira. Nem se podia andar. Cada pássaro abotoaria suas asas em uma aparente tentativa frenética de controlar seu movimento e conseguir uma aparência de mobilidade. Perguntei-lhe o que estava errado com todas as suas galinhas. Ele respondeu que não havia nada de errado com eles. Eles eram exatamente o que ele queria. Eu pensei que ele era estúpido, até que ele explicasse. Tudo começou quando ele comprou algumas crias de uma loja de alimentação. O proprietário da loja o enganou, vendendo-lhe uma boa proporção de pintinhos aleijados misturados com o resto pelo qual ele pagou. No início, ele disse, ele estava chateado e quase voltou para mandar reparação. Mas, à medida que a situação se lixiviava em sua mente por um tempo, ocorreu-lhe que era uma boa maneira de criar galinhas no Maranhão. O Maranhão é mais livre do que outros estados e não tem Lei efetiva. Se alguém te engana ou rouba suas galinhas, patos, porcos, frutas, bicicletas, etc. a menos que você tome o assunto em suas próprias mãos, você está sem sorte. Você quase nunca obterá reparação ou verá os itens perdidos novamente. Ninguém nunca vai bater no ladrão ou fazê-lo pagar uma recompensa. O testemunho de testemunhas falsas é barato. O fazendeiro de frango disse que estava ficando velho demais para dirigir o hotel, já não poderia lidar com bêbados de 24 horas. Ele fechou o hotel e transformou os andares superiores em uma fábrica dos ovos, usando as galinhas geneticamente defeituosas como seus produtores. A altura do hotel era demais para facilitar o acesso aos ladrões. As varandas periféricas em torno dos banheiros do sol do antigo hotel eram muito baixas para evitar que galinhas normais voassem, mas não galinhas aleijadas. Os pássaros deficientes eram exatamente o que ele precisava. O fazendeiro salvou as vidas das galinhas, protegeu seu investimento em alimentos, e ganhou boa vida vendendo ovos. Ele disse que vendeu ovos de frangos antes de levantar os aleijados e estava acostumado a perder a metade do seu rebanho todos os anos aos ladrões. Ele ascendeu a milhares de reais em tempo perdido e alimentação. Agora, ele concorda com o operador da loja de alimentação torta. Ele compra pintinhos aleijados com desconto e só compra os defeitos. Ele perde praticamente nenhum.
Eu acho que os técnicos de informática, executando nossas vidas simuladas, estão fazendo a mesma coisa com a gente que esse fazendeiro de galinhas aleijado faz com o seu rebanho. Nossos programadores nos criaram como simulações intencionalmente defeituosas. Eles estão nos explorando para o lucro exatamente como esse fazendeiro está fazendo com galinhas afligidas. A maioria dos símios tem a intenção de orar a Deus enquanto eles estão matando por Rothschild e as outras famílias dinásticas. As galinhas do fazendeiro não podem fugir mais do que símios podem escapar das suas próprias escravidões. Superpredadores também são simulações obedientes, símios escravizados, galinhas que não podem caminhar, se recusando a provar o fruto proibido da Árvore do Conhecimento do Bem e do Mal. Como Eva, você e eu provamos, comemos totalmente, e estamos “condenados” pela experiência. O Dom da Missão é uma corrupção da simulação programa, nosso “Inferno”. A Espada Flamejante é nossa recusa ou “incapacidade” de retornar à irresponsabilidade, à ignorância, à brutalidade e à escravidão caedere involuntária. A única razão pela qual os “deuses” não nos eliminaram ainda é não é econômico ou as tragédias de nossas vidas servem como exemplos para outras das consequências da posse de conhecimento proibido. Há quanto tempo não passamos a andar no limite do precipício?
Vou continuar o curso o máximo que puder. Todos os dias, coloco a visão no olho da minha mente de acordar até um dia para compartilhar com uma humanidade livre, natural e saudável, existente sem estado e sem Deus em um planeta em crescimento saudável. Todas as pessoas envolvidas no movimento do CoC em todo o mundo fazem o mesmo, e todos nós sonhamos com aquele maravilhoso dia glorioso. Pode não estar neste planeta, talvez em outra dimensão, mas nós sonhamos com ele, no entanto. Como você está lendo esta mensagem agora, é óbvio que eu, nunca vi esse dia, exceto em aqueles sonhos. Saudade da humanidade! Saudade para a Vida!”
Fin

Copyright © 2017 by Larry L. Slot, Published digitally in 2017 by Aloirav Press, Andirobal, Maranhao, Brasil. All rights reserved. © This digital book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be decirculated, lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, in any form, without the publisher’s prior written consent.