There is no way that these slab-or-meat-morons could have known that violently bashing into each other, repeatedly, over a period of years, could render harm.
My, ‘Master Plan for World Domination’, bolsters sports to the absurd cultural spotlight and importance it now enjoys as to relieve the masses of many implicit human activities. Sports, teams and games defuse tribal and regional impulses of physical protectionism and civic involvement. They promote a form of cultural childhood, rendering people who are easily led.
Give them a hero to cheer for, a team to identify with, a uniform to wear, and a group to absorb their personal identity. Go Team!
What does this amateur torture-team of beginner-boobs know of real blood-letting, skin-peeling, bone-crushing, soul-searing, brain-boiling torture?
Reminds me of a gang we put together way back, mists-of-time type stuff. A real warped group of sickos, including a psychotic Cyclops, a couple hunch-backs and cloven-footed whore, before that went out of fashion. They used mostly sticks and stones, broke a lot of bones, but could never really close the deal.
My, ‘Master Plan for World Domination’, calls for torture teams to self-generate across the globe with increased frequency and I want the work done right. If the subject is whole or recognizable, and certainly if they are able to live and tell the tale, then someone is dropping the ball. Torture to Death, that’s the big leagues, please make a note of it.
Just a Contrail, innocent moisture coming out of the jet engines being turned to ice crystals in the air. Has nothing to do with Global weather modification, or Eugenics programs, or new world orders, or my perfect ‘Master Plan for World Domination.’