There's Something to be Said

We love it. We do. We really really do. This whole human thing? We love it. The power trip, the insurmountable amounts of power we get what with the opposable thumb, the slightly more intelligent brain and that ghastly curiosity which as religion might have it, got us to eat the damn apple, and well also lead us to a lot of other discoveries that have not only brought unbelievable advances in our human society but also damaged the prospects of a safe human society for centuries to come. Until we're too destroyed to go on with unflinching faith in the god of progress or somehow learn to unlearn what we have learned. Wow, the tongue twister in that sentence speaks for the possibility of any chances of such an occurrence.

There's something to be said about this power. And a lot more on what it means to be human.

We could become demi-gods in this mighty ocean of giagnoramous power. Let's face it, we rule this planet. Each and every one of us mighty humans. We've laid claim and we rule and the battle for supremacy still does continue bold, strong, loud, but the best battles they say, are the quiet ones. And there's something to be said about that. And a lot more on what it means to be be human.

So help me god if I for an ignoramus, shameful second happen to believe that I stand apart from this hot bed of bubbling pride. We're like a huge planet filled with eggs boiling on hot fire probably going "I cook first! I cook first" least realising that once cooked- the end awaits.

Hell yeah. There's something to be said about alll of this.

But in all of this being human thing, it's the little creatures who were meant to share this planet with us who suffer. The ones without the opposable thumb. Without the enlarged brain and therefore no complicated ID, EGO and SUPER EGO to deal with.
The little critters who were, as the greatest hamartia of the gods has proven, left pretty much as themselves. While we were made to "progress".

They're left behind in all of this. And while we could be Demi-Gods, really, we choose to be Demi- Gods of power. And not of love. There's something to be said about that.

It's the little dogs on the streets who pay. The nest-less birds. The homeless squirrels who did NOT want to satisfy any inner, seemingly selfless ego by sacrificing their homes for our Christmas trees, our decorated, dressed massive pieces of art ready for processions, sealing great political bags of votes, and all the other things that our opposable thumbs and our mighty developed brains allow us to do.. It's all of them who suffer.

The evidence is everywhere: our feet, our hands, our homes and our streets. We're the masters of cruelty. And that cruelty shines out loud with its light reverberating and echoing all across the polluted skies of our world, when a little animal, has no place to let out the only way nature allows us all to. When even his corners are lined with our mobility shining under the sun. Houses to the left, cars to the right, concrete where it stands and if were to let go, the mighty hands of the demi gods on earth raise up with stones and feet powered with kicks for that creature, to whom this planet equally belongs.

There's something to be said about that kind of power. There really is.