The Way I See It
again, friends. This is the Death Adder.
There is a
lot of talk these days about the Kyoto Treaty.
What is it? Where did
it first start? Why all the
let me first tell you that I’m not an expert on treaties.
So far as I know, a “treaty” is used to end hostilities between
warring nations. End hostilities?
Why would I do that? The
only real use for a treaty is to lure your enemies into a false sense of
security before you roll corpse-throwing catapults up to their castle
walls—but we’ll save that argument for another day.
From what I’ve gathered, this so-called treaty will help eliminate the
environmental hazards that cause global warming.
I see no point to this at all.
Instead of trying to get the United States to reduce their emission
of greenhouse gasses, why don’t these smaller countries do something
productive. Their goal should
be to find ways to increase their own output.
Military war machines aren’t run on wind and solar powered gyros,
but rather coal-stoked ovens that send so many thick plumes of grey,
choking smoke into the sky you would think it night.
How will Portugal regain its world-power status by America’s
lowered emissions? They would
be far better served building a battering ram with the speed and strength
of a locomotive and rolling it right through the Spanish countryside
destroying all they see. Take
that, Prime Minister José
night, as I sat in a pile of gold coins in a graveyard littered with the
headstones of my enemies, I thought to myself, “Death Adder, has all
this destruction you’ve rendered made you happy?
Has the environmental desolation you’ve left in your wake really
made a positive difference in the world?”
And the answer is, “Yes.” It
makes me feel wonderful. Whereas
some create beauty with song or brush, I paint sorrow with the cold edge
of my axe, autographing all I see with butchering swings.
As I topple trees and families and burn cities to the ground, I
know this is my purpose. But
occasionally I feel guilty. How
many men never get to feel what I feel?
Make no mistake, every man of every country should have the
right to destroy as he sees fit. What
we’re talking is the right of all unruly mobs, no matter race, creed, or
color, to destroy the world in their own way.
leads me back to the Kyoto treaty. Not
every man can amass a group of soldiers and plunder helpless villagers.
But who are we to deny this man his right to destroy the air we
breath or the water we drink? Should
a factory owner, solely because he cannot properly hurl poisoned missiles
into his neighbor’s hut, be precluded from bringing horrible, horrible
ruin down upon us all? The
answer, of course, is “No.”
parting story, friends. Once
upon a time, a man wandered into a village of people on the verge of
starvation. He started a fire
in the middle of town and placed upon it a large pot filled with water.
“Good people,” he said, “why do you live on the verge of
starvation? Let’s combine
our small portions of food together in this one great pot and tonight we
shall feast like kings.” And
that night, those villagers did eat like kings, for you see, that man
became the main ingredient in the finest “Meddler Stew” the villagers
that’s how I see it.
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