The Nihilist Chicken, and His Egg.

Hell, that might even be a title for a book someday…

Even complicated words have been turned inside-out by brain-dead, all crotch no brains, animalistic so-called “society.”

Nihilism

This is the definition of pretty much every human being I have ever met. Coupled with being such dumb animals that they are oblivious to the fact that this is what they’re doing. They exist for no purpose except to do damage to others and laugh about it, oh, and lots of mindless smashing together of gonads.

It’s hysterical to see the human race go this direction… Where the only use it has for it’s supposed higher intellect is not to rise above the animals, but to see out new and creative ways to stoop lower than the animals. It’s everywhere… Success is defined as destroying your fellow man just to say you could do it. Money has no value except to use as a weapon of deprivation against those unwilling to stoop low a to abuse their fellow man in the same fashion. Being civilized and intelligent is mocked as weakness. He who stoops the lowest can wreck the whole party and take a few crumbs home for himself. Why produce and grow, when you can smash and grab, and the chicks totally dig it…

We could build something better with math, science, and collaboration, but why bother with all that when you can just wreck everything, grunt and thrust? This is the new “strength;” measured as a caveman would…

I’m not the Nihilist. I’m surrounded by them and they lack the intellect to see it… Up is down, black is white, short it long… Having the clarity, civility, and intellect to see it makes me the odd one out. This happens to all societies, eventually… Initially formed as a way to better life for all, turning into a weapon against those who’d rather not join in. Becoming so arrogant that they abandon reason and logic. Scorning the very science and math upon which their industrialization is founded. Deliberately separating different parts of their personality to justify their actions. “It’s only business. Don’t take it personally.” “It’s just sex. What’s love got to do with it?” Deliberately fracturing the psyche, and calling it normal. Anyone who doesn’t screw themselves up is the weirdo. Dysfunction becomes the norm.

No society has ever survived itself.

The fundamental flaw I’ve found that strings together the underlying defects in philosophers throughout history who have studied nihilism is this; they study it from the vantage of an Ivory Tower. What if God was one of us? What if they were one of us…

There is a dream that most people have. No, not a vision for the future. A real fall asleep dream. The dreamer is being attacked, and is unable to fight back. Even with the will, his gun won’t go off, the knife turns to rubber on impact, fists just can’t hit the target. The ability to protect one’s self seems impossible to achieve no matter how hard the dreamer fights back.

I had a different dream… It was a very fast dream… Up in the sky, looking down. Zooming in closer to the ground. Pass through the clouds, a small discoloration appears. It grows. It’s a city! roads, buildings… A big roundish thing in the middle… Still steadily approaching.. The round thing is a football stadium, or Colosseum of sorts, but bigger than any that actually exist… Small figures can be seen in the field of the Colosseum. Masses in the stands. Now comes the smell, the awful stink of the place! While appearing to be largely anthropomorphized, the entities in the field and the entities on the stands are not at all similar… I realize that I can’t make out the entities in the field because there is little to make out. They’re nothing but little white balls with cartoon-y arms and legs. I look around the stands to see, they’re a half-breed of pigs and humans. Standing on their back legs, shoving food into their mouths with barely articulate hooves for hands, defecating and urinating with total indifference to where it lands, and stays. Even upon the very food they’re consuming. Screaming and hounding unintelligibly towards the center of the ring. Disgusted, my attention turns back to the white balls with cartoon arms and legs. Some are bleeding. Many are dead. They all have weapons. Most of the dead have clearly been killed by weapons foreign to the arena. Meaning, they didn’t kill each other, something else killed them. Occasionally they take a half-hearted swing at one another, but clearly having no desire or malice in their hearts… They are at eye level now. I look at them and then look at myself, having a body of my own for the first time and not being an invisible floating observer. I am a white ball with cartoon arms and legs, and a sword.

Pearls before swine. One by one, killed by the onlookers as we refuse to fight each other to the death for the amusement of the pigs.

Ever since that dream, the other dream isn’t broken anymore…. The gun goes off and the bullet finds it’s mark. The knife penetrates and blood pours out. Fists land with superhuman damage, like a Dragonball Z remake.

I no longer consider restraint for the pigs. I know they’re going to kill me. It’s what they do. The only thought they have is how to make my murder as entertaining as possible. This is “normal people.” Filthy, stupid, vicious animals who see nothing at all wrong with being so. It’s like a cat looking in the mirror and having no idea that the reflection is itself.

After the first one, the rest are free.

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