I work in an office a few hundred yards from Heathrow, directly underneath
Concorde's take-off path. It goes overhead at 11:00, give or take three minutes either way, and makes a sharp turn off to the right, or '
wilthway' in aviation slang. Crows fly up into the air as it goes over, and it strikes me that one of the selling points of the aircraft, back when they were raising funds to build it, was that crows would no longer call the sky their playground; from hitherto henceforth onwards, we would be the masters - through our metal avatar, the Concorde - and the crows will fly in fear, as would the
seagulls. Just like the flamingos in Florida, fleeing from the sound of
NASA rockets. Once upon a time it was widely accepted that life was a struggle and that we had won, humanity had won. To be born a human and not a goat was to come first in the lottery of life. We dominate them. Yet we are still miserable in our daily lives. We should rejoice.
I believe that it is our destiny to be at war with nature; our goal is to destroy all other forms of life on this planet. This is the truth. Like many truths we do not want to believe it; we try to hide it, we feel misplaced shame at our absolute power. This is wrong. It causes psychosis and feelings of inferiority, which lead to an exaggerated pose of aggression in order to compensate for it. Wars since time immemorial stem from this psychosis; we do not realise that victory is within our grasp, we do not need to fight each other. God has given us another enemy, and He has given us the power and the tools to make the final victory a reality during the lifetime of the current generation.
Every time an animal dies the human race is advanced; the more trees fall, the more coastlines are wasted by oil, the more it pleases me, and the more it pleases God. He did not make the birds and the bees in his image. They were created by the devil to vex mankind, to spread disease. When I go home tonight I will purposefully step on some grass with my combat boots and I will have some chilli which is made of cow = dead cow = dead cows = the path to victory.
For victory is inevitable. The human race will spread and spread; all attempts to curb its growth will be met with scorn and fear, will be reviled and dismissed as inhumane. Already, population control in China is breaking apart under international pressure and the human desire to cover the planet like oil covering a blade, keeping it from rusting, keeping it sharp. Earth will one day be a concrete sphere with layers of human life stretching from ten miles underground to the edge of the troposphere. To an alien viewing the Earth from outside - and there will be no aliens viewing the Earth from outside because we will need to kill them, too - it will be a featureless grey sphere, all light blocked in order to conserve resources. All food will be derived from human waste or from the mentally ill, of which there will be many, as the pressures of this life will erase the weak. The human race will breed and breed amongst itself until all belong to one family, and the remaining human being will be a multi-cellular organism permeating a concrete brain, a hive-mind network of interconnecting passages and chambers of pure thought and expression, all concrete and restful now, no-one calls the ducks, no-one to harvest the swans gone and gone, ultrasonic.
"Mankind will be a loop, all utterly now/
Earth is a cannonball. We are the cannon."
The gun is good. The penis is evil. The penis shoots seeds, and makes new life, and poisons the earth with a plague of men, as once it was. But the gun shoots death, and purifies the earth of the filth of brutals. Go forth and kill!