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Saturday, Jan 30 2010 1:30 AM
How are we, as a society or a species, to confront this seemingly insurmountable obstacle to our communication and progress? By screaming and fighting with people until it looks like they took a spit shower and put on makeup with a fist. Recently someone decided that I hate them, and from that was able to figure out why. They were clownishly, tooth fairy believingly wrong on both counts but that didn’t stop a few poor souls from being led astray. Most people chalk this shit up to “drama” and let it slide or make apologies for sending the wrong signal. That is completely counter profuckingductive. Not trying to convince people or at least reveal to people your version of the truth and then attempting to get something done is like you’re somehow doing negative work. Or buying lotto tickets or some shit. Anyway when I found out about this disasstarderous occurrence I actually put my pants back on and drove out in the god damn rain to straighten shit out face to face. Also I brought 30 hours of sleep deprivation, a shirt I could afford to get blood on and enough anger that I could have set a new record for most glass eaten as a mood stabilizer. A few deceptively polite texts later I had nearly everyone who had been a part of this dinosaur killing meteorite of lies in the same room. And you know what, I yelled and screamed until I felt sick to my stomach and then I started to throw up a little in my mouth and then I yelled more and vomit chunks flew out of my mouth. But it worked, I was so loud and so out of control with rage that I got through to them. I explained amidst a biblical plague level of cursing and a French level of insulting exactly why putting your faith in what people say about themselves is borderline idiotic and thus trusting what one person says about what another person thinks is so heinously retarded that anyone who does that instantly is destined to be reincarnated as a gay man in Saudi Arabia. Maybe it was because I was so gripped with frothing rage that it was impossible to think I could be insincere. But regardless of why it worked the point is that by going back down to the crap throwing territorial pissing level, and using a little non reptilian brain matter while I was there, I was able to usher everyone out of that room with an understanding of the truth about each other that is unhappily missing from human history and the knowledge that I only hate people when they suck the feculent shit out of their own ass hole, swish it around with a schizophrenic level of speculation and then start trying to speak to the unspoken opinions of others. I didn’t even have to hit anyone. -Cigarettes Thursday, Jan 28 2010 12:30 AM
I’m part of the lost generation. Spiritually I belong in the late 20s when the world was sharp with depression survival, dull with booze, ashen with coal dust, lush with the unknown and on the verge of another great war. But I’m here in a generation where parents are willing to poison the earth, slit the economies throat and compete with their own children all so they can live to the ripe old natural age of 80-90. Because they did such a bang up job raising their kids it seems perfectly fair for them to stand around consuming and demanding free pills. A bunch of old fucking selfish pill heads afraid to die. I don’t even know what to call us, because generation Y doesn’t really capture the essence. The only hope I can see is that since we are not in the midst of one then we must be on the verge of another great war. I don’t think very many people at all in my generation who honestly and deeply consider it feel/think that they belong in this time. Many of us have found things we enjoy here but the world our parents created for us… just isn’t for us. There was a hole in their hearts and a fear in their minds and all the helmet laws, toys with no small parts, medical advances, and self esteem building they could come up with wasn’t enough to put them at ease and when they ran out of good ideas they were swept up in the bad. And for all the good intentions and loving protection we received they sent us into a world ready to eat us alive. A land ready to screw you, sue you and send you to anger management classes for freaking out on the poor guy who was hired at just better than a slaves wage to rip you off. There are two things I have to say about this. The primary is that while many of our parents did try to create a better world for their children it seems to me that they also made vicious, deceitful, litigious and bureaucratic one for adults. The second is that the issues they confronted were never really problems to begin with. A thousand generations have risen, slaved, worked and transcended greatness in worlds where shit flowed down the street and it wasn’t child abuse unless you killed him. Perhaps I’m being ungrateful but it seems that all in all we’re in a situation with few old problems, plenty of new ones to replace them and more restrictions on how we can solve them. Where do you feel like home is? When would you have liked to live there? -Cigarettes (I wrote this before our federal government legislator, for whom the average age is 57, wrote a multi trillion dollar I.O.U. to their grandchildren, that they'll die before they have to pay. No one knows the meaning of sacrifice anymore. If you ever want a reason to push people into traffic then look up Tim Geithner and Ben Bernanke, I don't care what your political affiliations are or how you would have remedied the economy but these people define corruption and avarice.)
1:00 AM
In fact, I agree with pretty much everything else you said, too. However, I think, while not entirely wrong, you may have just missed the meat on our parents making a safer world for kids. The unsafe toys, the lead-based paint, scissors that were sharp, and a million other things that were taken away from us and replaced with round corners and dull edges did something other than place us in mild danger. Back when, a kid would burn his hand on the stove, and he wouldn't fucking do it again. A kid would eat a little paint, be sick as hell for 3 days, and then he wouldn't fucking do it again. A kid would go out to the nearest hill on the street, ride down it in his Radio Flyer at 30 mph, crash, break his arm and then he wouldn't fucking do it again. ...and after this kid did hundreds of things like this and learned to never do them again, do you know what that kid ended up as? An adult. Our parents didn't throw us into a world full of wolves...they doomed us to live in one populated by 6-foot-tall children. -Sideburns 12:00 PM
I am only left to wonder. Is the reason for our displacement and eagerness to cling to the identities of our past because the world we've been thrust into doesn't have room for us, and has grown too petrified to allow us to make a space for ourselves, a world where our parents and at times even grandparents still compete with us for jobs at later and later stages in life. I say this calmly. In no way however would I want it to escape the reader that this is something about which I could very easily be brought to a volcanic rage over. -Cigarettes Monday, Jan 25 2010 8:45 PM
So instead we get to read this: I am a bully. Have been for like… since I could walk. I’m not tall and I’m not outrageously buff looking either but I’m probably one of the top ten intimidators in my weight class. I was pretty much just born this way so I guess I should be getting checks from the government or something. This one time on the play ground in second grade someone hit me with a baseball in the chest after I had explicitly said “no pegs!” So my assistants and I dragged him out behind the play sets to make him eat dirt. We didn’t really think this through because as any child molester can tell you, prying open a five year old boys mouth with your bare hands is just too hard. Punching and kicking him wasn’t an option either as I had already learned that I’d be, shall we say, turned over to the authorities. But bullies can use their brains, too, so I unzipped and took a piss all over this kids crotch area. After that we dragged him to the teacher and told her that he did it to himself. When he tried to tell her the truth and she slapped him for being a liar I felt the most satisfaction I would until puberty. I’d kinda like to share some tips on how to be a better bully. Like you could smoke a bunch and develop a super-rotten eggs can-crushing style voice. Or you could make a reputation for never giving up after a loss by hiding under someone’s truck with a gaff hook and pulling them under by their achilles tendon then licking them on the ear while you grab their cell phone out of their pocket and then run away. Tips like developing a crazy eye by watching Charles Manson clips and then practicing it by staring at kids while their parents aren’t looking until they cry. If you’re really interested email me but for now one more real life example of masterful bullying. I’ve already told you that I make it a point to hang out with people I hate and one more reason why I do this is to protect the people I like. So this one time a guy is making inroads with a girl I know. So I basically decide to reenact the opening ceremony from when hell hosted the Olympics. We crossed paths in an empty stairwell and taking advantage of our pretensions of friendliness I shook hands with him. This was all I needed. I pulled him in close for the hug-handshake and I could out of the corner of my eye see his look of awkward homoerotic surprise replaced by one of abject suffering as my knee crashed into his stones like a chain gang sledge hammer. His body goes limp which is good for him because it protected him from serious injury as I spun him around and kicked him in the ass hard enough to get shit on my shoes. Once I had him on the ground I got on top of him and pulled out his wallet and started eating his money like a dog eats homework. Then just as he was regaining the use of his frontal lobes I put my hand over his mouth and slowly start grinding my pelvis against his. I could feel his face twist into a frown and I leaned in to whisper a string of words that literally made this guy drop off the face of the earth: “If you fuck her I’m going to have to show you how much I love you.” I let a little spit dribble into his ear before I got up and walked away. He never even unfriended me on Facebook. Like I said in a previous post, mildly sociopathic. That’s all for now kids. -Cigarettes Saturday, Jan 23 2010 3:30 AM
Maybe it didn’t inspire you like that but now you know what kind of books I’m talking about. Ever read one? Okay fine whatever. If you have then just keep reading, if you haven’t then you won’t get this, go to the comic section. A lot of people meet me. I make it a point to hang out with people and get to know them even if I’m ambivilant towards them or hate them because I always stand to gain something. If these people knew the phrase "Hemingway Complex” then they would use it to describe me. But that’s not quite right, 5 or maybe 6 years ago maybe but if this person gets a little more interested then they’d use another phrase they don’t know because I just invented it. I have a Conrad Complex. I’ve been on the big adventure to prove my manhood. I’ve faced down other men from my age. I’ve faced down men who didn’t belong in this age. But I didn’t see it with the glory tinted lenses on Hemingway. It didn’t make me stronger, more respectable or give me deep and elusive insight. It was sad, it was blind punishment dished out to the entire world and the only gift was that some people can’t see far enough ahead to glimpse it and others found relief in hurting others more than they were hurt. (If you’ll permit me the extended metaphor: imagine there’s a candle in your mouth and it won’t go out and you’re underwater, burning from the inside out, scream and drown right away.) The sea wasn’t beautiful, it was angry. The forest wasn’t lush and full of life, it was dying and nothing within could find rest. The mountains weren’t picturesque and majestic, they were made of fucking stone and when you get to the top you can’t even breath. And then cities… the cities were just like the woods only pointlessly destructive. Piontlessly good at keeping alive only the most voracious consumers. The only thing that matched their omni directional wrath was their waste. This world is afflicted with humans and the humans are full of rot and decay. I’ve seen a lot of the world and there is nothing in it big enough to fill the hole in the heart of man, not even adventure. In summation: “The Horror! The Horror!” -Cigarettes Wednesday, Jan 20 2010 2:00 AM
The class we were sitting in was a physical world geography class. A class that, because of political boundaries, cannot be entirely separate from the politics of the day, but because of the definite nature of such things as the shape of the earth, and the certainty of such things as the people in Scandanavia do eat a bit more herring than those in Madagascar, political debate itself should be mostly absent from it. This...instructor had been working on her Ph.D. for nearly five years (read: had failed to earn her Ph.D.), the great part of which was that her dissertation was on the sociopolitical climate of Jackson Square in New Orleans, a human climate which had just been very interrupted by a very major climate event some of you may recall by the name of Hurrican Katrina. Anyway, she had gotten it into her head that terms such as "Middle East" were offensive and unacceptable due to the "fact" that they implied a geographical-social heirarchy. This woman was wrong, just like a great many other people are wrong about such assertions every day. I'm tired of people injecting racism, ethnocentrism, and every other kind of ism into things that are completely politically neutral until a person says something about them. Case in point: crackjobs like this. I'll admit that maps probably appear the way they are today because Europeans where in charge of the mapmaking for so long. But just because the origins of a method might be suspect doesn't mean that method doesn't make the most sense. The greatest amount of landmass is in the northern hemisphere, and who wants to see a jumble of compass roses, keys, and legends at the top of a page? Why is the "Middle East" called the "Middle East"? Because it assumes a journey from the west, yes. But that doesn't imply that the west is superior, it only implies that the west is where the person who coined "Middle East" started. Using your origin as a frame of reference isn't racist, it just happens. We are all only able to see the world through the eyes of our past experiences, and any self-righteous jackass who tries to tell you you're wrong for that needs to pull the tofu out of their ears and accept that people are different, and that's a good thing. So why try to cover it up? The world would be boring as hell if we were all the same -Sideburns P.S. Wow, this post wasn't very funny. Sorry Sunday, Jan 17 2010 12:00 AM
Cigarettes have a lot of benefits that nobody talks about. It’s an expressive social accessory for one, you can show your mood, be friendly or rude, make an exit and look cool. Cigarettes are subversive and rebellious. Society wants you to think that’s bad but society also wants you to follow a bunch of rules about taxes, how loud your music can be and whether or not you can start a tarantula farm or distillery in your own home. And if you like following rules then you’re a lost cause already. Cigarettes can confuse aliens in case of abduction. “Was your planet always on fire?” But mostly cigarettes serve an important philosophical purpose. Whatever could that be? Well it’s simple; everyone who has smoked for any respectable length of time has come face to face with their own mortality. No smokers are walking around reminding you to buckle up and drive safe and eat food high in antioxidants because smokers know that YOU are going to die. Because smokers know that they are going to die. In just a few short years you will be eaten by worms regardless of how many slices of pie you had. Smokers don’t wash their hands with organic soap or get prostate exams because safety is boring, inherently uncool and, in the face of our inability to see the future, ultimately pointless. The point of living was never to do it for a longer time. I mean if you wanted to make the most of life you’d read more books, save more money and travel more, you’d take more risks too. But instead our society ponders outlawing transfats, worries about swine flu, develops cars with more safety features than the Gemini spaceship, regulates our drinking and drug use, highway speed, where we can buy our food from and who we can hire to fix our household wiring. All the while people make less and less use of their lives. Cigarettes are my way of saying “go fuck yourself safety” I don’t care if I die or worse. And I especially don’t care if you die so if my smoking is bothering you then go hop in your casket and close the lid because it’s nice and safe in there and you can watch all the college humor youtube videos you want on your iPhone. -Cigarettes 11:30 PM
Almost all your points are right. Cigarettes are cool as hell, make you stand apart from the crowd (as long as the rest of the bar isn't jonesing at the exact same time), and cigarettes baffle the hell out of any extraterrestrial species. Wow, it almost pained me to type that. Hey, I even have to admit that I think cigarettes are so cool that I even smoke them in social settings. Yeah, you know when I'm stupid drunk and have severely impaired judgement? Those kind of social settings. As for your great burning philosophical statement, I fear you're projecting your own fearlessness of mortality onto a bunch of people that are undeserving of being looked upon as brave, or even rebellious. You know what I hear smokers say most of all besides "I'm gonna go smoke a joe?" I hear them say "Yeah, I should probably quit." Most of these people haven't looked mortality in the face and flipped it off, they're scared shitless of it but they're not strong willed enough to break the habit. What's that you say? "They only say they're going to quit so you'll shut up about it?" If they're the rebellious, free-willed, societally unbound people you seem to think they are, they'd tell me to go fuck myself instead of trying to placate me. They're not just scared of death, they're scared of people talking about death. That's not breathing smoke in the face of mortality, it's putting up a smoke screen to hide it from view. -Sideburns Wednesday, Jan 13 2010 9:40 PM
This word is one you may have heard before, but one which you may never have truly appreciated. I will open your eyes to the glory that is Godzilla. Think about it: what other word demands so much of its prefixes? Like the court of a giant, green, and truly rocking monarch, only the most completely cool and badass may come before Godzilla. Would you say something like "Cheesy-Godzilla?" Hell no you wouldn't say that shit. It sounds stupid as hell and I even feel bad for writing it as an example. You should feel bad for reading it, too. Shit, guys, we all know taco bell ain't that great, but I would need at least two more adjectives before I ordered something named "Godzilla" at taco bell. I might be getting off track, the point is, Godzilla is such a demanding word that you need something cool and scienctific to come before it or you sound like a total jackass saying it. But when you pull it off, you've automatically got an awesome kaiju. Here's a list of awesome Godzilla movies I just made up: Godzilla vs. Proto-Godzilla But Godzilla isn't just demanding, it's incredibly generous with its power! Compare the following sentences: 1. Dudes check out my new car! It's totally sweet1 2. Dudes check out my new Godzilla car! It's totally a giant monster that breathes lightning and it gets me to work every morning. I rest my case. -Sideburns Tuesday, Jan 12 2010 2:30 AM
You're inevitably asking your monitor "Why does that depress him? Wouldn't it be more depressing to have dreams about work or going to the bathroom?" Hell, no. I'd love to have dreams about filing papers or getting to the math test late and then realizing I forgot to put on pants. I'd kill to have a sex dream. I've only ever had one sex dream, and it was about Gwen Stefani. Does it really count as a sex dream if you're not sexually attracted to the person you're dream-fucking? In my opinion, the answer is a resounding "no." ...but I digress. The excitement and often utter strangeness of my dreams depresses me because I feel as if my subconscious is trying to overstimulate me in my sleep, compensating my mind for a less than stimulating life. How many of you have awoken to find yourself in a closet, crouched and battle-ready, plastic broom in hand, ready to face the black knight behind your best suit. He was there, and he was cruisin' for a bruisin', let me tell you. How many of you have awoken to your girlfriend shaking you, telling you, "Honey! It's okay! There aren't any killer bees! It's just a dream! Put the pillow down and stop messing up the blinds!" My subconscious lust for adventure clearly is not being satiated. But, my friends, it appears I have lied to you. I've had not one but two sex dreams in my life, and the worst and most painfully obvious metaphor for two different frustrations in my life is made apparent in it. Well, if you believe Freud, anyway. I was in that half-awake, half-aware state I was referring to above, when I spoke out loud "I don't-" realized what I was saying, and immediately cut myself off. My girlfriend next to me asked the question most would have, given the situation: "What?" Knowing the shame that would surely follow, I refused to expand upon my previous utterance. However, as women so often do, she pressed me and eventually I relented. I took a deep breath, looked her straight in the eye, and with the still lingering curiosity I had felt in the dream itself, I told her "I don't know why everybody's pissed off at all these zombies. All they ever do is give people handjobs." I'll give you a moment to let the implications of that statement sink in. Gathered all the clues? Very well. I suppose right now, short of joining the Navy or building that time machine I've been putting off for months, I can't do too much to adventurize my life. I suppose for now I'll just have to bide my time until God or Man decide to make my knight-jousting, killer-bee evading, sex-crazed-zombie-handjob-recieving utopia a reality. -Sideburns Sundary, Jan 10 2010 10:50 PM
-Sideburns Friday, Jan 8 2010 4:00 PM
“I’ll litter if I want to.” I momentarily paused. I could see that the force of personality and presence I carry wasn’t getting across to him. So I added “Besides, it’s the right thing to do.” I have a tendency to just make stuff up and defend it exceedingly well. I’m like the MacGuyver of devils advocates. “No it isn’t. Are you retarded?” he turned to face me looking slightly like a man who had just pierced his own tongue in an incisor related cock munching accident. That is to say with a little shame, a little surprise and a lot of pain. “Why? Would it get you off if I were? Let me lay it out for you. You see that guy over there with the broom and the blue jump suit?” “Yeah you’re making his life miserable by throwing trash everywhere.” “No, dick twister I’m making his life possible. You see I pay tuition here and the university pays his salary. But they don’t pay him to chew bubble gum they pay him to pick up garbage. No me, no garbage, no job. In fact the cost of him picking up after you is already built into the price of tuition. If you don’t litter then they’re ripping you off!” He seemed a little stunned so to drive the point home I took out a few useless receipts from my pockets and let them fall gently to the ground. “Do you like not getting your monies worth?” “When you put it like that.” “Or are you just trying to get that guy laid off? Litter creates jobs, I create jobs!” That’s where it ended because that’s when I won. -Cigarettes 4:05 PM
Yes, they do pay him to pick up after people, and yes the cost is built into tuition, but his job and the alloted finance for it come with a certain set of reasonable expectations. Every time you litter, are you helping just that little bit to create a job? Sure. But the money for that job has to come from somewhere, and if you're doing it on a college campus and you're a student that money is coming from you. Also, every time you throw a piece of trash anywhere, it's going to help create a job, it's simply a question of what kind of job it is. If you threw the trash into a trash can and all the other litterbugs did the same, the trash bags would get filled up more quickly and they'd have to pay the blue jumpsuit guy to empty the trashcans more often. Or perhaps they'd decide they needed more trash cans, and they'd place a huge order for metal trash bins. If every institution of higher learning had to do this every year or so, a huge swell in trash can manufacturing would occur, creating long-term, sustainable, better-paying jobs. The moral is this: throw your trash away, kiddies, because blue jumpsuit man would much rather work in a factory making trash cans for you that picking up your gum wrappers and used Kleenex all day. -Sideburns Tuesday, Jan 5 2010
2:15 AM
Hypothetically if I were to invent the cure of Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (Lou Gehrig’s disease). In clinical trials it has 90% effectiveness at saving people’s lives. I don’t patent it because I want to take it to my grave. It’s such a simple yet unguessable proportion of dishwashing liquid, egg whites and iron filings so in this scenario no one can guess my secret recipe, I mix each batch to order and administer each dose along with an assortment of other inactive ingredients so they can’t figure it out from the poop. To receive the cure all I ask is that the patient, friends and family come and meet with me, compensate me for my time (20 dollars an hour) and materials (50 bucks because I have to buy a lot of null sets to keep it secret) but I also reserve the right to look a dying man, woman or child in the eyes and say “no, I will not give you the cure.” If I say no then I don’t charge them anything. Does that make me bad? Does my miracle kitchen cure give me the right to sit in judgment of men with their necks in the noose so to speak? Or should I be forced against my will to give up my creation to save lives, bear in mind that rapists, thieves, murderers and tax evaders can get ALS too and if they’re in jail then every citizen would have to pay for that treatment. Now none of you know me, but you might be able to guess that I am a raving sociopath and that with rare exception after I had proved my ability to cure ALS I would refuse nearly everyone, those I would cure would really just be so that people would keep coming around begging for salvation, thinking they had a chance. Did that change your answer? Quick! How much money do you have, like that you were going to see a movie with? Or better yet how much money do you have that you don’t need to survive or to keep your job? How many functional kidneys do you have? How many extra pints of blood and plasma? Those could all cure someone of a deadly illness. Does someone have the right to force you to give those things up for the benefit of those you do not know? Those you would not wish to help? My question is complex but my answer is simple. I say no and no again. But please feel free to pick apart my argument, please use appeals to emotion especially by trying to reverse the roles and ask me to imagine I had ALS. Whatever you can come up with I’d like to know ::stares at sideburns:: -Cigarettes 2:30 AM
Here's the deal: if you withold treatment to only those you deem "worthy," what makes you any better than the "bad people" you deny treatment to in the first place? The only difference between you and a murderer is that they have the means to kill and choose to kill, and that you have the means to save and choose not to. Is this miracle cure your "property?" As a staunch supporter of intellectual property rights, I have no choice but to concede that it is. At least until someone else discovers it. Or steals it from you in your sleep, which will eventually happen. I have to paraphrase something you said once, though, "To claim you know what is right and wrong is to claim you are God." How is it that you decide who gets the cure and who doesn't without claiming just that? -Sideburns Some time later...
First of all yes that is exactly the difference between murderers and me, and you. That’s analogy is about as thin as a cheap condom, please try harder next time. Second, you say that I’m claiming the power of god on earth by refusing to cure people. If that were the only tenant to my argument you’d have won, you wouldn’t be right but you’d have won. What I want someone to come face to face with is the fact that we all have the power to cure others of fatal conditions. It might not be as easy as a trip to the grocery store but we can all save lives and every day we choose not to. You can’t stand there and call me self contradicting when you’re being hypocritical. Deciding who gets my cure and deciding if you will donate your organs, money, and time are the same thing so you can’t say I’m claiming god like authority when by the same notion we all are. Furthermore in the hypothetical the fact that I’ve chosen to cure anyone (grudgingly or otherwise) makes me a better person in deeds than those skittering people playing a life long game of coffin dodge. That’s one of the reasons why we don’t go out and donate blood and kidneys and money and time to help others because people are cheap. There are precious few pearls on the beach my friend and it’s not worth our time to save the sand. -Cigarettes
-Sideburns |
"God Damn it, it's freezing outside! Take a jacket or something," she said. "I guess you just don't understand. This is just something I have to do," I replied, my scrotum already shrunk up towards my torso. "Really? Really?Going out naked in sub-zero weather is something you just have to do?" she inquired, a doubtful and contemptuous look on her face. "Damn it, Aleen, do you know how often it snows in Clearwater?" I replied. "If I don't do this, right here, right now, I'll never be able to say it. I'll never be able to say the sentence 'I ran a mile completely naked uphill through the snow in southern Florida' and not be a liar. Don't you know missing an opportunity like this could drive a man insane for the rest of his life?" Then it was as if all of the universe clicked into place, and our minds were as one, and the two of us understood completely not only one another, but everything that ever was and ever would be. "Go on," she said. "Go be a hero. But I'll be naked on the bed with my legs open when you get back." I took a deep breath and told her "Baby, if I'm back in five minutes, call Guinness, and tell them the world record-holder for naked Florida 1600-meter dash is banging the shit out of you." |
(C) 2010 Sideburns and Cigarettes
This might start out slow. Give me a few lines to ramble here. I’m not a moral relativist. There is one truth. However, everyone (assuming that they aren’t just illusions) is going to see that differently, interpret it differently and most importantly they are going to skew that in a way that reflects the truths they have previously seen and interpreted. 
My post on dreams should let ya'll know that I agree with Cancers Sticks completely on at least one point; I don't feel like I belong here. I don't belong in a world where someone can eat to the point where they can no longer walk and not be eaten by large predators. I don't belong in a world where person pays a doctor to cut off their nose and replace it with a new one, and then sue the doctor because they can't smell anymore.