I'm told foie gras will change my life. That it's savory, exemplary to die for.
Ironic. Someone already did that. A gavage in his throat... plumped, fed, suffocated by his own fat like an inflating noose on an unwitting neck.
Ironic also that his flesh inflates my girth and feeds my gluttony.
"Stupid things... don't even know they're dying." Dying indeed. A slow and painful death. And how deserving of it, yes. Stupid things. Too stupid to recognize their plight. After all, don't the stupid deserve their fate?
Ironic how - to this day - we still think we're so much more evolved than our forebears.
Evolution aside, The Divine Rights of the Food Chain still stand.
I do not understand it, therefore it is less intelligent than I, therefore I have the right to torture it.
I made it, therefore it cannot live without me, therefore I have the right to ruin it.
I own it, therefore it is mine, therefore I have the right to **** it.
Our strength grants us Divine Right, indeed. May the kingdom prosper under our boots and be grateful, for history has proven us such gracious and kind masters, after all.