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| Source: Google Images. |
By Gundhramns Hammer
Hundreds of
newspaper reporters were crowded around on the turf of the stadium. They
bustled about and shoved other colleagues to get closer to the centre of the
field.
The biggest TV companies had paid millionaire sums of money to get the exclusive and the cameras were ready to air the great spectacle that was about to unfold.
A fat man appeared on stage that had been prepared for the occasion. Although there were a lot of things odd about him, resembling a character taken out of a science fiction story or a horror movie but nobody paid close attention to him.
He was about 55 years old and already was looking like a toad, as a child in the crowd yelled, for which he was scolded by his parents. But real toads are not ugly. These creatures are one of the many of Mother Nature´s miracles.
He stood way over two metres tall, sticking out amongst all of the people present there. His long and pyramidal shaped neck made him look even taller.
Judged by XXI beauty standards, this man was so ugly that he was really more of a nature´s abortion than a human being. Some people believed he was an alien from another planet. perhaps they were right.
He had his face full of dark warts as big as grapes. His nose was swollen like a balloon. It looked more like a hanging deformed red bell pepper than a breathing organ.
His head was elongated, shaped like an egg. It was crowned with a small blond tuft of wispy hair, like wild boar bristles, and combed backwards.
Except for a reddish pencil line marking were they had been, he had no eyebrows, if he ever had any at one time.
He had small square ears, with a match of dark hairs on each tragus pointing upwards, giving him the looks of the tip of a corn ear.
Regarding the colour of his skin, it was hard to determine exactly because he was wearing a lot of white make up wherever there was a piece of his skin sticking out.
He did have very cold and piercing blue eyes, the colour of death. Why death?
There is the story that when Lawrence of Arabia, the agent of the British Empire, was seen by some Africans (Egypt) for the first time, he used to be told he had eyes of death.
According to some African traditions, death is represented by a tall, pale white woman, with blue eyes. So are the demons that inhabit underground as well, according to the legends.
And considering that millions of Africans were sold as slaves in the past, and even today hundreds of humans are trafficked by smuggling gangs heading towards the Northern Hemisphere, and that their land was taken away by European folks, where this eye colour is most often seen, the traditions somehow were not wrong. To millions of Africans, death indeed had blue yes.
His hands were big, with a larger interdigital membrane than normal. Each hand was adorned with abnormally long fingers that ended in huge squared nails painted purple.
Obviously, he was designed to grab more than what he needed in his fucking life for his sojourn on this planet. No wonder this bastard had a lot of money. Tonnes of it.
He had grotesque long arms. They looked more like narrow flour sacks full of motorcycle tires.
How was he dressed? That belongs to another story. Make yourself a guess.
As he went by, he lifted one arm like a giant crane and waved at the excited crowd. And he also smiled, showing his gold plated front teeth.
People, especially women, screamed to the top of their lungs waving back. They were so excited that the number one billionaire on Earth had paid attention to them.
At least that is what they imagined. In fact, this monster of a man did not give a shit about people. He was more interested in his brand new idea, the one that was about to exposed to the mass of stupid human sheep and he was damn sure he would become even richer.
Everyone in the frenzied crowd considered this goady monster quite good looking. Money and fame have a strange way of making you attractive like an Apollo to the eyes of those that envy your wealth and high status even if your looks belong more down in Dante´s Inferno than on the surface.
Since he was totally in control of the media, what he was about to throw into his propaganda machine around the world would become an instant winner and would bring him all of the money that he ever dreamed of. This fucking bastard had only dreams of money, eating and getting laid.
He claimed and preached any time and at any place that his success, wonderful healthy look and sex appeal was due to a secret elixir.
Or we should rather say a special type of food that gave him the wits to outwit all the others on the block who were outwitting whoever they needed to outwit to get what they wanted out of the people that had no wits.
What was all this about?
The richest man on planet Earth was going to eat human shit.
Yes, ladies and gentleman, he was about to eat human crap in front of the news reporters and the masses of zombied people in the stadium.
His turd swallowing deal would be watched around the world and the press would put him on the front pages of every fucking newspapers and magazines, round the clock for as long as he wanted.
Everybody on this fucked up planet by Homo insapiens would be exposed to and get to see and learn about the wonders of human shit.
Something that dogs and pigs had known all along, but the press and TV stations were going to sell his news as if shit eating was happening for the first time on Earth.
To make his shit eating event, more colourful and cheerful, an orchestra of the best musicians begin to play a symphony composed just for this special occasion. This composition was called “The Ode to Human Egestia”.
The director of the orchestra got ready. He lifted his right arm and the music begin to roll. At the beginning he went as slow as snail but then he took a mellifluous crescendo.
Exactly at this very same moment, the wealthiest man on Earth, a monster named Daemon Taketh Unterhand, took a human turd with his right hand, took to his mouth and ate it with no squeamish signs on his face. As a matter of fact, he relished such a delicacy.
For this motherfucker and destroyer, a selfish man who had made his Money in enterprises where the destruction of the Biosphere was involved, human shit was morning glory, a precious ambrosia only fit for kings and the gods of Mount Olympus. At least that is what he thought.
If factory pigs were asked regarding munching on human turds, they would certainly say this type of organic waste was better than the feed full of residues of mycotoxins, herbicides, pesticides and hormones they were fed day in, day out at the concentration camps called “animal factories”, provided that the shit came from healthy human beings and not from drunkards and drug addicts, those wonderful assets for the legal and submerged economies, respectively.
The whole damn gathering in the stadium turned into a huge feast. A humongous party just to eat human shit.
Truckloads of human shit were brought into the stadium. But not just any shit. Not plain human shit. Not as it came out of the asshole.
No, this one had been scientifically transformed into faux pies, cakes, hamburgers, steaks, sausages, salami, drumsticks, breast strips, pancakes, waffles, patties, sticks, burritos, snacks, cheese, pizzas, donuts, toasty rings, energy bars, cookies, crackers, candies, sauces, soups, noodles, spaghetti, etc.
Any kind of food shaped in as many ways as anyone could think of or wish for had been elaborated out of human poop. It was incredible!
The biggest TV companies had paid millionaire sums of money to get the exclusive and the cameras were ready to air the great spectacle that was about to unfold.
A fat man appeared on stage that had been prepared for the occasion. Although there were a lot of things odd about him, resembling a character taken out of a science fiction story or a horror movie but nobody paid close attention to him.
He was about 55 years old and already was looking like a toad, as a child in the crowd yelled, for which he was scolded by his parents. But real toads are not ugly. These creatures are one of the many of Mother Nature´s miracles.
He stood way over two metres tall, sticking out amongst all of the people present there. His long and pyramidal shaped neck made him look even taller.
Judged by XXI beauty standards, this man was so ugly that he was really more of a nature´s abortion than a human being. Some people believed he was an alien from another planet. perhaps they were right.
He had his face full of dark warts as big as grapes. His nose was swollen like a balloon. It looked more like a hanging deformed red bell pepper than a breathing organ.
His head was elongated, shaped like an egg. It was crowned with a small blond tuft of wispy hair, like wild boar bristles, and combed backwards.
Except for a reddish pencil line marking were they had been, he had no eyebrows, if he ever had any at one time.
He had small square ears, with a match of dark hairs on each tragus pointing upwards, giving him the looks of the tip of a corn ear.
Regarding the colour of his skin, it was hard to determine exactly because he was wearing a lot of white make up wherever there was a piece of his skin sticking out.
He did have very cold and piercing blue eyes, the colour of death. Why death?
There is the story that when Lawrence of Arabia, the agent of the British Empire, was seen by some Africans (Egypt) for the first time, he used to be told he had eyes of death.
According to some African traditions, death is represented by a tall, pale white woman, with blue eyes. So are the demons that inhabit underground as well, according to the legends.
And considering that millions of Africans were sold as slaves in the past, and even today hundreds of humans are trafficked by smuggling gangs heading towards the Northern Hemisphere, and that their land was taken away by European folks, where this eye colour is most often seen, the traditions somehow were not wrong. To millions of Africans, death indeed had blue yes.
His hands were big, with a larger interdigital membrane than normal. Each hand was adorned with abnormally long fingers that ended in huge squared nails painted purple.
Obviously, he was designed to grab more than what he needed in his fucking life for his sojourn on this planet. No wonder this bastard had a lot of money. Tonnes of it.
He had grotesque long arms. They looked more like narrow flour sacks full of motorcycle tires.
How was he dressed? That belongs to another story. Make yourself a guess.
As he went by, he lifted one arm like a giant crane and waved at the excited crowd. And he also smiled, showing his gold plated front teeth.
People, especially women, screamed to the top of their lungs waving back. They were so excited that the number one billionaire on Earth had paid attention to them.
At least that is what they imagined. In fact, this monster of a man did not give a shit about people. He was more interested in his brand new idea, the one that was about to exposed to the mass of stupid human sheep and he was damn sure he would become even richer.
Everyone in the frenzied crowd considered this goady monster quite good looking. Money and fame have a strange way of making you attractive like an Apollo to the eyes of those that envy your wealth and high status even if your looks belong more down in Dante´s Inferno than on the surface.
Since he was totally in control of the media, what he was about to throw into his propaganda machine around the world would become an instant winner and would bring him all of the money that he ever dreamed of. This fucking bastard had only dreams of money, eating and getting laid.
He claimed and preached any time and at any place that his success, wonderful healthy look and sex appeal was due to a secret elixir.
Or we should rather say a special type of food that gave him the wits to outwit all the others on the block who were outwitting whoever they needed to outwit to get what they wanted out of the people that had no wits.
What was all this about?
The richest man on planet Earth was going to eat human shit.
Yes, ladies and gentleman, he was about to eat human crap in front of the news reporters and the masses of zombied people in the stadium.
His turd swallowing deal would be watched around the world and the press would put him on the front pages of every fucking newspapers and magazines, round the clock for as long as he wanted.
Everybody on this fucked up planet by Homo insapiens would be exposed to and get to see and learn about the wonders of human shit.
Something that dogs and pigs had known all along, but the press and TV stations were going to sell his news as if shit eating was happening for the first time on Earth.
To make his shit eating event, more colourful and cheerful, an orchestra of the best musicians begin to play a symphony composed just for this special occasion. This composition was called “The Ode to Human Egestia”.
The director of the orchestra got ready. He lifted his right arm and the music begin to roll. At the beginning he went as slow as snail but then he took a mellifluous crescendo.
Exactly at this very same moment, the wealthiest man on Earth, a monster named Daemon Taketh Unterhand, took a human turd with his right hand, took to his mouth and ate it with no squeamish signs on his face. As a matter of fact, he relished such a delicacy.
For this motherfucker and destroyer, a selfish man who had made his Money in enterprises where the destruction of the Biosphere was involved, human shit was morning glory, a precious ambrosia only fit for kings and the gods of Mount Olympus. At least that is what he thought.
If factory pigs were asked regarding munching on human turds, they would certainly say this type of organic waste was better than the feed full of residues of mycotoxins, herbicides, pesticides and hormones they were fed day in, day out at the concentration camps called “animal factories”, provided that the shit came from healthy human beings and not from drunkards and drug addicts, those wonderful assets for the legal and submerged economies, respectively.
The whole damn gathering in the stadium turned into a huge feast. A humongous party just to eat human shit.
Truckloads of human shit were brought into the stadium. But not just any shit. Not plain human shit. Not as it came out of the asshole.
No, this one had been scientifically transformed into faux pies, cakes, hamburgers, steaks, sausages, salami, drumsticks, breast strips, pancakes, waffles, patties, sticks, burritos, snacks, cheese, pizzas, donuts, toasty rings, energy bars, cookies, crackers, candies, sauces, soups, noodles, spaghetti, etc.
Any kind of food shaped in as many ways as anyone could think of or wish for had been elaborated out of human poop. It was incredible!
Even drinks
manufactured with certain flowery essence of human shit had been invented!
Nothing went to waste.
Invited as a judging panel, the best and most famous chefs on the planet exploded with joy as they tasted the first bite of human shit in a special salad.
These masters of mixing up and down piles of molecules into new combinations to deceive the eyes and the taste buds of restaurant lovers went on and on praising the Doongie Salad, as it was called. It was the best they had ever tried, was their conclusion.
Exquisite! Nothing like it! The most delicious delicacy I ever ate! And many more remarks of surprise came out of the mouths of the cartel of haute cuisine chefs, many a time assassin bistrocrats, haughty people quite used to beheading or stabbing live frogs (Video 1) or smashing the heads of live monkeys and ducks to extract their brains and tongues.
Video 1. Live frog sashimi in Japan.
As for the Cultural Commission for Human Waste that had been especially assembled to assess this human shit eating grand event, they all concurred that they would soon declare human shit as world heritage and as the only food of the future. Which alter all, they added, was already here.
All of the commissioners remarked that this heavenly food would solve the hunger problem around the world. They all agreed that human shit was definitely a sustainable food. Indeed.
Indeed, everybody was enjoying noisy party, including some dogs that had come along with their owners, empty headed people who did not want to lose the metamorphosed shit event for anything in the world.
The panel of scientists that had come to give their OK to the whole fucking thing were immensely happy.
They were not only happy because they knew that their bank account would increase to unsustainable levels to spend money on unsustainable staff but also because they had been promised the possibility of receiving the most coveted prize of the all, Golden Ass, a big solid ball of gold studded with diamonds, sapphires and rubies worth 50 million bucks.
Thanks to the generosity of this fucking monster who had invented and patented recipes and medical properties of human shit. At least, that is what he said.
Additionally, the patent officials, a den of ass kissers, had no qualms to agree to it.
Nevertheless, there was something that no one was told. Here was the catch 22.
All humans on the surface of the Earth had been had, gypped, robbed, deprived of the right to eat their own shit, should the need arrive. The funny thing is that they all went for it.
Except for a few activists that protested and soon would end up in prison, no one said a shit about having no shit whenever they wanted to eat their shit.
So from now on, all the shit that came out of the 7 billion human assholes on planet Earth was only and rightfully owned by Sir Daemon Taketh Unterhand.
Anyone who ever dared to eat his own shit without the right permission, which meant having paid a substantial charge, would be thrown in jail and charge a million bucks for patent violation.
Enough to keep him a slave for the rest of his fucking life.
Daemon had it his way. He had all the shit he ever wanted. Plus all of the money he would never need.
But since he was a bottomless pit for human shit and had brains only for making money, he did not give a shit if his children were on course to eat the one shit that would put an end to all of man´s shit: Mother Nature´s shit. Extinction, that is.
There are folks out there who do believe that the best shit that she could ever throw to her prodigious child to the biggest predator, the fucking devil, most of the times, or angel, a few times, that has ever wander on her face: Man.
And she might soon if man does not change his destructive and squandering way of life.
Lesson of the worm
The whole point of this story is that:
If you have lots of money and therefore lots of clout, people will listen and begin to make changes.
Changes which are needed more than ever today, should this fucking bipedal naked ape (Homo insapiens) want to survive and move ahead into the uncertain future that awaits every creature on Earth.
So if you are a wealthy man, you had better wake up.
Unless you want to let your future generations eat shit in the not so distant future.
No man is god. No man can outwit Nature forever. Nature will always have the last laugh.
This is a hard fact to swallow for a haughty species as man is. But he had better learn the lessons of living within the laws of his creator, those of Mother Nature. The sooner the better.
We are already on the way back. Are you?
Invited as a judging panel, the best and most famous chefs on the planet exploded with joy as they tasted the first bite of human shit in a special salad.
These masters of mixing up and down piles of molecules into new combinations to deceive the eyes and the taste buds of restaurant lovers went on and on praising the Doongie Salad, as it was called. It was the best they had ever tried, was their conclusion.
Exquisite! Nothing like it! The most delicious delicacy I ever ate! And many more remarks of surprise came out of the mouths of the cartel of haute cuisine chefs, many a time assassin bistrocrats, haughty people quite used to beheading or stabbing live frogs (Video 1) or smashing the heads of live monkeys and ducks to extract their brains and tongues.
As for the Cultural Commission for Human Waste that had been especially assembled to assess this human shit eating grand event, they all concurred that they would soon declare human shit as world heritage and as the only food of the future. Which alter all, they added, was already here.
All of the commissioners remarked that this heavenly food would solve the hunger problem around the world. They all agreed that human shit was definitely a sustainable food. Indeed.
Indeed, everybody was enjoying noisy party, including some dogs that had come along with their owners, empty headed people who did not want to lose the metamorphosed shit event for anything in the world.
The panel of scientists that had come to give their OK to the whole fucking thing were immensely happy.
They were not only happy because they knew that their bank account would increase to unsustainable levels to spend money on unsustainable staff but also because they had been promised the possibility of receiving the most coveted prize of the all, Golden Ass, a big solid ball of gold studded with diamonds, sapphires and rubies worth 50 million bucks.
Thanks to the generosity of this fucking monster who had invented and patented recipes and medical properties of human shit. At least, that is what he said.
Additionally, the patent officials, a den of ass kissers, had no qualms to agree to it.
Nevertheless, there was something that no one was told. Here was the catch 22.
All humans on the surface of the Earth had been had, gypped, robbed, deprived of the right to eat their own shit, should the need arrive. The funny thing is that they all went for it.
Except for a few activists that protested and soon would end up in prison, no one said a shit about having no shit whenever they wanted to eat their shit.
So from now on, all the shit that came out of the 7 billion human assholes on planet Earth was only and rightfully owned by Sir Daemon Taketh Unterhand.
Anyone who ever dared to eat his own shit without the right permission, which meant having paid a substantial charge, would be thrown in jail and charge a million bucks for patent violation.
Enough to keep him a slave for the rest of his fucking life.
Daemon had it his way. He had all the shit he ever wanted. Plus all of the money he would never need.
But since he was a bottomless pit for human shit and had brains only for making money, he did not give a shit if his children were on course to eat the one shit that would put an end to all of man´s shit: Mother Nature´s shit. Extinction, that is.
There are folks out there who do believe that the best shit that she could ever throw to her prodigious child to the biggest predator, the fucking devil, most of the times, or angel, a few times, that has ever wander on her face: Man.
And she might soon if man does not change his destructive and squandering way of life.
Lesson of the worm
The whole point of this story is that:
If you have lots of money and therefore lots of clout, people will listen and begin to make changes.
Changes which are needed more than ever today, should this fucking bipedal naked ape (Homo insapiens) want to survive and move ahead into the uncertain future that awaits every creature on Earth.
So if you are a wealthy man, you had better wake up.
Unless you want to let your future generations eat shit in the not so distant future.
No man is god. No man can outwit Nature forever. Nature will always have the last laugh.
This is a hard fact to swallow for a haughty species as man is. But he had better learn the lessons of living within the laws of his creator, those of Mother Nature. The sooner the better.
We are already on the way back. Are you?
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