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This is one of the great puzzlements of human existence (which has been primarily superfluous to this point).

At times, when I was a fully tenured professor of ethics at a top notch for profit university, I would be presented with this question from an ethical standpoint. And, as a fully tenured professor of ethics, I was obliged to respond.

"Can you taste your own chicken?" Let us think about this for a minute. Do you need a minute longer? Take as long as you need. You can continue reading once you have bridged the thought process required to think on this question, whether it be from an ethical standpoint or some other standpoint.

Here you go, resume reading here (if you need breaks please take them as needed):

What is a chicken? The common definition is poultry in the form of the chickadae animalus. It is a food animal that serves no other purpose. They need to be killed and eaten as often as possible. You will eat chicken. You must eat chicken.

And this is what we know. How do we know it? We know it because we do. It is that simple. Learning. It happens, it is experienced.

To accept me as The Lord requires you accept these things as well and you know that I am The Lord. I am of course being facetious about some aspect of that statement. Yet I am indeed better than you. I always have been. You are a piss ant on this globe and I am a golden god of the sun. You are filth.

You know this to be true, but can you taste your own chicken?

We need to ask ourselves this question regularly, preferably before bedtime. I don't know when your bedtime is. Maybe it is a limp-wristed early bedtime. Maybe it is a manly later time, a more "acceptable" time. I don't know. You choose. Infidel.

Can you taste your own chicken? Answer me.

First, why don't you acquire a chicken via some means. I'll wait.

Do you have it? Are you a human waste product? One of those questions you can surely answer in the affirmative. I am dead certain of it.

You are a human waste product and you know it, even as you try to deny it to others. You are human filth and you disgust me, but still the question remains. Can you taste your own chicken? Let us think on this again. There were many distractions.

I want you to quarter the absolute fuck out of that chicken RIGHT NOW and then throw the pieces up on the counter. There you go. There you go. Now you are operating like a righteous person. Look at those pieces of what was a live chicken before you chopped it up. That is great. Fuck that chicken up. It is the right thing to do.

But now, can you taste it?

And do you really own it? How can you say it is "your" chicken?

Once you have reached this point, you will know the answer. I hope you get there soon. You deserve it, Bucky.

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