Vomit God #17: Sweet, Sweet Anthrax

VOMIT GOD SPEAKS


Well, it's quite an interesting time. The Twin Towers are gone, we're bombing a foreign country, and everyone is afraid to open their mail, just because of a little flu called anthrax. I have just one thing to say to everyone: don't be scared. It's not like your house is the center of media or government anyway. Besides, the Taliban won't kill you. They need slaves to work in their uranium pits. Hail Allah!

It just looks like this Anthrax thing is a small terrorist fad. But what if it wasn't? It's not very hard to mail Hanta virus or even ebola. Could this be what I was waiting for? Could it be THE DAWN OF A POST APOCALYPTIC WORLD?

And what a great world it would be! All the military turds would be dying overseas, so I won't have to worry about their fascist attitudes. All the Fred Dursts and Britney Spears would die because their immune systems would be fucked up from taking syphilis medicine, and there's no need to worry about terrorists, because sooner or later, they are gonna drop the big one. And all those paper wasting tabloids would be gone, too. From this point on, we have two routes: The first one would be the peaceful, more realistic, better life, one. Man would be snatched from his cradle of industry and be forced to face the big bad wolf in the real world. Major cities would be abandoned because of new diseases that would come from all the bodies. People will rediscover the joys of a smaller, more stable collective, where extended families would live in villages. Commerce and marriage would exist between villages, until people can rebuild a society where the mistakes of the past will be erased from the Terran blackboard.

The second reality would be my "Road Warrior" fantasy. Who wouldn't want to fight roaming gangs of mutated thugs for gasoline on the highways?

I want you now to look at yourself. You're a terrible person, WE all are. You don't pay attention to the "suboids" who shine your shoes and serve you breakfast at McDonalds. You look down upon those people. Give more generous tips to them, before you fall into the apocalyptic hypocrisy. C'mon, the money Daddy gives you can stretch a little farther.

I for one, will look forward to the Rap-less, Internet Sex-less, Howard Stern-less world. It's all just fat upon the slab of juicy meat. Cut it off. Excess kills. Have a good reason for living.