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This is an emergency – the imperative of being vegan

Posted by on Apr 16, 2018 in Uncategorized | 0 comments

This is the text of my speech that opened the Irish Vegan Festival in Belfast, Northern Ireland on Sunday 9 April, 2018.  Concentrating on the devastating environmental impact of animal farming and other abuses by humanity of our fellow Earthlings, the speech confirms that our best chance to save ourselves from ourselves, as well as respecting our fellow Earthlings, is for all of us to go vegan.  You can see the video performance here.

This is an emergency.
The threat is there before us.
The choice is being made for us.
We either change or we destroy… ourselves and everyone else.
There is no luxury of pausing, reflecting, wondering, considering,
slowly meandering to… thinking about thinking …
and only then weighing up and deciding …
and finally getting up
to do what we have to do.
We are at the tipping point.
We are on the precipice.
The abyss
is below us
right there to show us…
we’re all about to fall.
The global environmental catastrophe is everywhere around us, because there is no place to hide, and that disaster is…
today,
this morning,
this afternoon,
this evening,
tonight
taking us closer and closer to the end point, the moment from which there is no return, no retreat, only the end game.
Game over.
Except that this is no game,
this is the shutting down of human society,
the breakdown of the human community,
this is death for trillions,
the devastation of life on Earth.

This is an emergency.

We are seriously running out of time.
We have wasted time.
All the time we had
we have thrown it all away.

The problems have been obvious
in front of us
for decades, centuries, millenia…
We have been warned across the ages that we cannot abuse life on Earth without consequence, that we can take but never give back, take all for ourselves today without thought for tomorrow.
We have always known…
that the exhaustion of the land and sea, the killing of uncounted billions of individuals in thousands of species, the destruction…
of forest and wilderness,
the laying to waste of once pristine grasslands,
uplands,
rivers and coastlands,
more and more of us taking more and more of all of that,
that all of that
would one day mean that we ourselves would be left without support,
dependent utterly as we are upon the natural world…
A smashed and trashed landscape and seascape can support none, no-one.
We always knew that.
We always did not care.
We always shrugged and looked elsewhere.
We figured that was just tomorrow’s problem.
But…
It is tomorrow.
We are here.
The biosphere that sustains all life, including our own and that of all of our children, is collapsing,
Crushed
by the violence
and the ignorance
of humanity.

This is an emergency.

We have never before faced such an immediacy of comprehensive disaster, affecting so many, everywhere, with such little chance of survival.
We have to act now.
We have to stop what we are doing, right now, and change how we are living, right now. There is no time left. We have idled too much already. Too many have died already.
We have ignored reality for too long, pretending we…were doing nothing wrong.
We have put aside the evidence of our eyes, our minds, our hearts and our souls. But it is not credible to turn away from the devastation. And now, right now, prevarication is not an option. Deliberation is not acceptable.
The time is now.

This is an emergency.

We know the facts – the ever-increasing and ever more dramatic changes to the climate, the elimination of vast swathes of the Earth’s forest regions, the pollution of the world’s water, the retreat of polar ice, the warming of the atmosphere, the melting of the permafrost, plummeting numbers of birds and insects, the acidification of the oceans, the degradation of the soil… the extinction of species.
We see too the worsening of health outcomes for our kind because of lifestyle diseases, awful diets and rampant resistance to antibiotics, rendering much of modern medicine redundant, exposing ourselves once more to death by toothache and the prick of a rosebush. No medication left to treat infection.
Why are those the facts?
Because the foundation of our failure as a species is our attitude towards non-human animals.
Behind the destruction lies one simple, searing conceit – humanity’s abuse of other animals: the exercise of what we believe is our right imposed by our might at the cost of every right that should belong to all those others.
The primary cause of the worst of that which ravages our planet is animal farming. Whether the violent abuse of farmed animals on land, or the brutal annihilation of trillions by the fishing industry, our ruthless desire for the flesh, milk, fur and eggs of other animals is what has drawn us so close to self-imposed obliteration.

This is an emergency.

How do we react to all of that?
We go vegan.
If we act, if we change, if we do something now, then that is how we stave off the total disintegration of human society. But it has to be now. The current pace of change is insufficient, inadequate. It’s not enough and it’s not good enough. It is up to all of us and all of us must respond now.
Pesticides drenching our fields has to stop. Pouring antibiotics into farmed animals has to stop. Pointlessly testing human medicines on non-human animals has to stop. Dumping our plastic in the oceans has to stop. Skinning animals for their fur has to stop. Murdering wildlife for fun and trophies has to stop. Imprisoning animals in zoos and parks has to stop. Fishing, industrial and recreational, has to stop. Wiping out forests to grow food for farmed animals has to stop. Polluting the air, the ground, the water with filth from animal farms has to stop … because farming animals anywhere and everywhere has to stop. Every slaughterhouse has to be shut down. It all has to stop. We have to stop doing it all, and stop doing it all now.
The most effective change we can make is to stop using (and therefore abusing) other animals. Human society is not separate, set aside from the non-human world. We are part of the same complex ecosphere as all other lives and we are totally reliant on the natural environment for our survival. Abusing other animals means abusing ourselves and the planet that is our only home in the immensity of the cosmos. None of us have anywhere else to go. The destruction of Earth is dominated by our domination of non-human animals and our predilection for their flesh, fur, lactation fluid, eggs and even their vomit (in the case of bees, in case you were wondering). It is farming animals for meat, dairy, fishing and our further abuse of animals for fashion, superstition, religious ritual, pharmaceuticals, entertainment and half-baked so-called research that drives the global disaster unfolding before our eyes.
Our best chance to stop the rot is for all of us to go vegan. An honest acceptance that humanity does not have the right to abuse other animals to death in their trillions, despite our supposed privilege and undoubted power, is the greatest response we can make to this overwhelming tragedy that is already the cause of immense suffering. A recognition that no human life depends upon the deaths of non-humans in order to survive and thrive represents our finest answer to this most daunting of challenges. We can do it. It is possible. It is easy. With tens of thousands of edible plant species, innumerable foods, clothes, cosmetics and other consumer products readily available to all, no-one need persist with the old ways that have proven so destructive to so many and which will be our downfall unless we act.
Given all that confronts us, everything we know, we have to change.
To continue to be non-vegan represents an existential threat to humanity. This is not hyperbole.
Our violence against other animals has taken us to the very edge of self-termination. It is not morally defensible to continue to behave as we have done in the past and perpetuate into the future the violence of meat and dairy and every other abuse of all those other species. Because if we don’t change, there will be no future.
The global human society as we know it is at risk of extinction. This is not an exaggeration.
The facts are clear, direct, easy to understand. They remain facts whether we like them or not or whether we wish to agree with them or not.
The reality of ecological catastrophe does not care for the whims of humanity.
That which is true remains true.
It is obvious what we must do.
We must change and we must change now.
This is what we all have to do. And everyone can do it. If we are serious about surviving as a species and the continuation of the human community then we will do it.
We are an adaptable species and now is the time for us to adapt. This is not something for “later”, because there will be no later. This is not a problem for “others to deal with”, because there will be no others.
But if we go vegan, we can survive. Go vegan and we thrive.
We may right now have our backs against the wall. But we can allow our hearts to hope because change is within us all.
We are stepping forward, we are rising to the challenge, and we are changing the world.
This is the time to stand together and proclaim our desire for freedom for all, justice for all, rights for all. This is the time we turn the failures of the past into the realised promises for the future. This is the time we make peace in our world; we break the chains that have bound our animal brethren; we free ourselves from the lies of the meat and dairy industries; we tell the truth and we live the truth. This is the time.
Land will be returned to nature. The wildlife will be born and roam free. We will take only what we really need. This is the time.
The slaughterhouse will be abandoned. It will be razed and all traces erased. Where blood used to flow, now trees and flowers will grow. This is the time.
Compassion shown to everyone, kindness extended to all, love offered to every life for whom home is this fragile planet we call Earth. Our shared home. Our only home. This… is the time.
Yesterday does not matter. It’s all about what we choose today. And we can make tomorrow the greatest day there has ever been. This is the time.
We do face the gravest threat. But we already have the answer.
Go vegan and we survive. Go vegan and we all survive. Go vegan and we all thrive. And we will be, absolutely, alive to joy and the finest love the world has ever known.
The power to save the world is right here, right now, inside each and every one of us. It’s you, it’s me, it’s all of us working together, sharing our dream and making our every dream come true. Here, now, is the emerging, stirring, inspiring force for good within us all to change the world and to set billions free.
Now is the time.
This is an emergency – so let’s get out there and save the planet! Place your foot upon the floor and know that the entire Earth is below your feet. Every step we take is a step towards a whole new world. When we walk, we walk into the future and that future will be made by us.
Now is the time.
When we rise as one, we can save everyone. With our hearts filled with love, our minds packed with the truth, our souls on fire with justice we are unstoppable, we are magnificent, we are the makers of history.
Now is the time!

Here is my gift to you, my child

Posted by on Dec 21, 2015 in Uncategorized | 0 comments

LT

Here is my gift to you, my child.

And my gift to you, my child, is an unthinking gift. For I do not want to you to think. I do not want you to think about what this gift means, I just want you to passively, quietly accept this gift and not to think now or ever. I do not want you to question this gift, to raise your voice in concern about this gift, to offer to me thoughts from your heart about why I gave you this gift. I do not want you to consider what this toy represents and what it reflects from the world out there and what goes on in the world over there. I do not want you to ask me what “livestock” means and why farmed animals would need to be loaded onto trucks and I do not want you to ask me why we do this at all, and why we can’t just leave the animals where they are. Just be quiet. Just accept. Just play.

Here is my gift to you, my child.

And my gift to you, my child, is a violent gift. I give this to you and I want you to indulge your young mind in cruelty. I want you to think it is fine and, indeed, fun – hey, just play! – when you take the toy animals and run them up the ramp onto the truck and lock them in and drive them off. I want you to think it is quite, quite normal to separate a mother from her baby and take one of them off in the truck whilst the other one stays on the farm, and drive that truck to a place in your mind where we do those animals to death, but I do not want you to ponder on that too much, just accept that, and don’t ask me about that. Just know that we kill and just believe that you have no choice, just understand that you will kill, and that’s all fine. Just be quiet. Just accept. Just play.

Here is my gift to you, my child.

And my gift to you, my child, is an unfeeling gift. I know that when you meet other animals in the real world you like them and want to care for them. I know that you like to reach out to them and hold them and hug them and be nice to them. I know that when you see those animals your heart does a leap with a quickening beat because they are such a joy to you, you find them fast and fabulous friends and I know that you’d never think to strike against them and hit them and hurt them. I know that if you ever see an animal in pain it makes you sad and it makes you cry, and you don’t even like to think that they would ever really die. I know that. And now I want to wipe that out. I want you to play with this toy, this truck and these animals, and I want you to stop thinking of the animals as your friends, they’re just “livestock” now – a big word I know, but really it just means that the animals don’t matter. Just push the animals up the ramp and lock the truck door and drive the truck off to that corner of your mind where you’ll kind of know that the animals will die, but don’t think of that, just play the way that I tell you, and drive the truck to take the animals away and make them die. Just be quiet. Just accept. Just play.

Here is my gift to you, my child.

And my gift to you, my child, is the gift of ignorance. I want to share my ignorance with you, because I bought this for you and I kind of know a little bit about animal farming and where the “livestock transporters” go when I see them on the roads and what goes on in abattoirs, but I don’t think much about it, I never question it, I never really find out anything about it. I wouldn’t hit or hurt the pets that we have, and I wouldn’t want anyone else to hurt them either, and I teach you to be nice to them too, but I’ve never really thought about animals on farms, but I do just passively accept what I’m told which is that the animals are treated nicely by the farmers, all the time, and I just passively accept what I’m told which is that the journey to the abattoir is done as nicely as it can be done and I do just passively accept what I’m told which is that when the animals are at the abattoir they’re treated kindly and killed humanely, and I’ve never given any thought to what “killed humanely” means. I’ve never really thought about any of it at all. I’ve never thought if there’s a different way to do things or different things we could eat. I just accept it. I’ve chosen not to know and I don’t like it when people try and tell me more about it – they talk about cruelty and the agony felt by the animals but that all sounds really unpleasant and I don’t want to know, and they talk about the other food I could have instead, but it all sounds really difficult even though they keep saying it’s so easy, and so I don’t want to know. I‘m just quiet. I just accept.

Sweet child of mine, please accept my unthinking, violent, unfeeling and ignorant gift…

 

The Hare In My Head

Posted by on Aug 7, 2015 in Uncategorized | 0 comments

No, I can’t do it. No, I can’t shake it. No, I can’t get rid of it. Can’t do nothing with it. Don’t matter what I do, can’t do nothing with it. I got it. It got me. There, in my head. The hare in my head. He’s there, the hare in my head. Now he’s there he’s always gonna be there. I got the hare. He’s there, that hare, he’s there in my head. Never gonna go, never gonna fade, never gonna wave goodbye, gonna be there ’till the day I die. I close my eyes, it don’t matter, open them up and look at other stuff and that don’t matter either. Every way he’s gonna stay, the hare in my head. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Except I wish he was still alive today.

Yesterday, on my out, driving in my car, turning into a small country lane, Corrstown Road (you can look it up on a map to see where it’s at) with Debbie in the passenger seat, on our way out for the evening, taking some photographs at an event a few miles further out into the country. There we were, on our way out, turning into that lane, which isn’t wide enough for two cars to pass side-by-side, but it’s a very quiet lane, so typically, naturally, everyone just drives down the middle of the lane, it’s the obvious thing to do.

There we were, about to turn into Corrstown Road, maybe seventy yards away, and up ahead a van turns into that lane too, going the same way as us too. Think nothing of it, so what. We turn, I carry on driving. The van’s carried on up his way, and then Debbie says, “What’s that?”, there’s something up ahead we see, flapping about, thrashing even. And then it stops. We drive closer and then we see that it’s a hare. A hare that has just been run over. “It”, the “something” is, we know now, a someone, a he, a hare who has just been run over. He’s just been run over by the van that was just ahead of us.

It isn’t good. There’s a lot of blood. It’s a narrow lane as I say, so I drive a bit further up and then we turn the car around to head back to see if there’s anything we can do, and even if there’s nothing we can do we want to move him from where he is, we don’t want him to get run over again and again.

I turn the car around and head back, and pull into the entrance to a driveway and stop. We walk up the hare. The hare is dead. His back end has been destroyed and his insides are hanging out. We know then that when we looked and wondered, “What is that?” what we saw were the final seconds of his life, his agonised thrashing as his body screamed. We saw his final, shocked horror of his body being blasted by the brutal crush of the van’s wheel. When I first saw I didn’t know but then I knew and now I know still and will always know.

And then I looked down at him, and I saw the cold glass of his eye which now had no life and I was so sorry for what had happened to him as he’d just been wandering around, doing his thing, causing no harm to no-one and meaning no harm to no-one, and then he was smashed with such a force as to utterly destroy him and take the light of life from his eye that I now saw but which now could no longer look back at me.

And then I looked at where he was, and he was so close to the side of the road, so very close to the verge. And I’ve been down this country lane so many times, and seen so many others come down this lane so many times, and I know how I drive down this lane and I know how everybody else drives down this lane, and I know that everyone drives straight down the middle, it’s natural, it’s instinctive, it’s the obvious and sensible thing to do.

And the hare was nowhere near where a vehicle would be, even a van, if the vehicle, even a van, was driving right down the middle. Then we know. The van that was up-ahead, the driver driving that van up ahead of us, who turned first into that lane, that guy chose to run over the hare. He took aim and took his van over to the left and he deliberatey ran his wheels over the tiny, fragile body of the little hare and obliterated the life from him. There’s no dobut that that is what happened, the hare would’ve been out of the way of the wheels if the van had done what every vehicle does and driven down the middle, had stayed down the middle. The hare didn’t die in the middle of the road. He died on the far left, on the side of the road. But the hare didn’t just die anyway. The hare was murdered.

What I saw were the final moments of a life that was deliberately destroyed by a guy in a van who, I’ll bet, didn’t think of much of what he did – and he chose to do what he did – and just carried on in his van and turned the corner at the end of the lane and carried on his way with his life, after wiping out a life, a small, defenceless, innocent life.

And now we stood and looked down upon the poor hare, dead at our feet, and we didn’t want to leave him there. I walked away and found some cloth in the back of my car and came back to the hare and bent down and carefully wrapped him in it, and picked him up, taking care not to let any more of his organs fall out, and carried him a little way and placed him behind a tree and made sure that the cloth covered him and covered his eyes, to give his mortal remains some dignity. I put him there and said sorry in my mind and walked away, and nothing else to do but carry on with my day and get in my car and drive away.

But he’s there, the poor hare, he’s there in my mind and I see his final pain, and I see his small body and his cold eye but I am glad that he is there in my mind because I have to know what I’m up against so that I know that I will fight for him and every other life on Earth with every moment of my life. I will fight for every life to be defended against the casual violence and cruelty and barbarity of humanity. I wish that little hare was still alive there, that that hadn’t happened to him, and I’m so very sorry for him that he came across the guy in the van who, with such stunning wickedness, chose to destroy that little guy. He’s dead and the memory is in my head, his final, appalling seconds are right there in my mind and that’s where they’re going to stay. I owe him the memory of his murder.

Confession Of A Mass Murderer

Posted by on Jul 20, 2015 in Uncategorized | 0 comments

I possessed them. I possessed their life. I possessed their death.

I ate them. I ate their life. I ate their death.

I drank them. I drank their life. I drank their death.

I whetted my mouth in anticipation of drawing them into me, and sucking into my throat the remains of them, and I filled my insides with the joy of having them in me. I purchased their imprisonment in future hope of owning what I wanted from them, and I handed the coins to their executioner in payment for what he would do when they could no longer satisfy my desire. The executioner drew the door closed, and I blinded my senses so that I could not see nor hear nor know of what he did because death was his business, I said to myself, and his business is not mine, it’s none of my business, I said to myself, although I did not mind his business, because I could buy from him the things that I so desperately wanted, things that I could never imagine not having, not wanting, and certainly not surviving, even living, without. How I could I live without them?

So it was. That’s how it was. I would wake up in the morning and my morning meal would comprise a modest breakfast, and would contain the milk that I carefully poured over cereal as I set myself, satisfied, for the remainder of the day. By the time it was lunch I would reach for a sandwich with sliced cheese inevitably the primary ingredient, chewed and digested with great gusto. And as for those evening meals, they would so often be smothered in more cheese, baked or grilled or simply sprinkled on top, but definitely there, definitely everywhere! All washed down with coffee awash with yet more milk to satisfy my preferred taste – because, no, I couldn’t imagine my coffee without that milk.

That milk of course was cow’s milk. That cheese of course was coagulated cow’s milk. That very definition should have alerted me to the fact that what I wanted, what I was having, what I convinced myself I needed so badly, was something that came from, and thus belonged to, someone else. But I believed. I was a true believer. I believed what I was told to believe by those who wanted me to believe, because so long as I believed they could go on selling directly to me that something that was the source of all their profits. The industry that “produced” cow’s milk and cow’s cheese (and, not forgetting, goat’s milk and goat’s cheese, and so on, and so on) told me that it was good for me, indeed was essential for me, and anyway what was the harm, what could be possibly be wrong in helping out the cows (or goats) by relieving them of all that milk they were making, day after day? It was all good. So I believed. I looked at the pictures that they made, the cows reclining in grassy fields, I absorbed the commercials they showed on the TV, I listened to my doctor as she spoke about good diets, I heard what the experts said on the radio about the body’s needs, and I paid attention to the stories of farmers and the hardships they endured because of the wicked pricing tactics of supermarkets.

All the while I bought the milk and I bought the cheese, I bought the whole tale, and I stuffed it all in my head. And all the while I ignored the cow. I convinced myself the cow was fine and wouldn’t mind.

With every mouthful, I murdered.

Every day, I woke up as a killer and in my house and out of my house and when I was alone and when I was friends, I killed. Bored at work, and bored at home, watching TV, reading a book, playing a game and having chats, catch-ups with mates, I killed. I killed again and again and again and all the while I told myself it was all okay, it’s not as if I’m actually eating the cow, I said to myself, and anyway, what else could I possibly do? How could I ever live without milk in my coffee and cheese on my plate? What else could I possibly do? What about pasties, and pasta meals, and sandwiches and what would I put on cocktail sticks? What else could I possibly do?

And then I knew. I looked in a mirror and then I knew. I took a breath and swallowed nervously, with difficulty, because then I knew. I saw myself for who I was and I saw myself for what I did. I knew where my money went and what the farmer did. I knew where my money went and what went on in the abattoir when the door was closed. I knew where my money went and what lies I was told by corporations with money and no morals, what stupid lies with cartoon cows, talking and dancing cows, laughing cows, giggling and jumping, and all those pretty pictures on cartons of milk and packets of cheese with pastures of green, suns of stunning gold and skies a perfect pastel blue, but never, never, never the red of the blood.

Because then I knew about the blood. I knew about the blood of the cow’s wounds as she was worn by repeated rape (I knew about the rape: how else could I describe forced pregnancy?), and the blood that blew out from the new-born calf whose head was smashed in by the farmer’s hammer (I knew about the hammer: how else to “dispose” of the “unwanted” and “unprofitable?). I knew about the blood that burst like a torrent from the cow’s throat when she was wiped out at the slaughterhouse, because she had given (for given, read: we took) everything and she was no longer any good, we were told, for anything – after giving (for giving, read: we stole) every child she bore and every gallon of breast milk she made for her children and who were never there to receive it; we took her to die and we took her life. And when she died, there was blood.

So, I knew. I knew the violence of the dairy industry and its twisting and perverting of the truth of what it does. I knew about the ignorance of medical “professionals” and “qualified” nutritionists all of whom who chose not to learn and not to question, who were obedient just as I had been obedient (but I would have expected better from professionals), and who had bowed to industry interests and refrained from wondering aloud and asking the most basic question, “Why are humans drinking the breast milk of other animals when they have already been weaned by their mothers?”

I asked myself the basic question. I answered the basic question in an instant: this is wrong. I also asked myself what on earth I was doing, participating in an industry of mass murder (I knew about the mass murder: no calf or cow ever gets out of the industry alive). I answered myself in an instant: I was wrong. I felt ashamed at my chosen ignorance, I felt embarrassed that I had failed for so long to even think at all about what I was doing, and I was appalled that I had allowed myself to be conned so easily by those with money for eyeballs, a bank balance for a heart and a knife for a mind. I felt sick in my stomach because my stomach was drowning in the blood of the innocent, and I had murdered them. I felt anger in my head because it had happened at all, and all those days when I had done nothing at all but kill and kill again, every time I handed my money over, and over and over again when I poured the milk over my cereal and into my coffee and shoved it in my mouth and swallowed. I swallowed a million screams of agony. And now I could hear every one of them, and now I could see every one of them, every cow who ever suffered and died, and every calf who ever suffered and died, I saw them all, all of those who suffered and were murdered because of me.

I was a mass murderer. I was the cause of so much pain, so much hurt, and so much heartache. I was the cause of so much agony on the farm and so much violence in the slaughterhouse. I was the cause of a life of horror so many were forced to endure and which ended only with their vicious killing, which I caused.

It was what I did.

It is not what I do now. When I finally had the courage to question what I was doing, and I chose to use my mind and my heart to think with clarity and wisdom, and I dared to hear what others were telling me about “milk” and “cheese” – I recall one lady who sat me down and told me all about “dairy” and milk and cheese and showed me some pictures that I had preferred not to see before – then I knew too that I would not do that anymore.

I was afraid. I was scared. How would I do it? And then I woke up in the morning and went outside and went to a shop and bought some different things instead, and then I went home and poured a different kind of milk over my cereal and didn’t bother any more to dilute my coffee, and at lunchtime and dinner and out and about socially, I just ate slightly differently. And I didn’t die. The ground did not shake, the sky did not fall, the Earth continued on its way around the Sun and the Moon still shone on a cloudless night. All I did was buy some different stuff. That was all I ever had to do. It was one of the easiest things I’ve ever done, that I’ve ever asked myself to do. And all I had to do was allow myself to know.

And now, I am an ex-serial killer, my mass murdering days are in the past only. I cannot undo my past, the bloodshed that stains those days when I did what I did, the violence I caused, the pain that I made happen. It is forever a part of me. But it is not me now. My guilt will never diminish and nor should it – I did it and I must be honest that I did it and I must respect those who died because of me by not denying their murder at my hand. But I will now use my every breath to rail against that system of extreme cruelty and violence we so casually call “the dairy industry” and the sick cruelty behind every drop of animal milk and every bite of animal cheese in the hope, the desperate hope, that others will want to know, as I finally wanted to know, and others will want to be, as I now am, free from the grip of that industry’s bloody lies, and that others will want to do, as I now do, and demand that every animal born into farming’s enslaving and murderous grasp is set free for no others to be born, ever again, into that brutal and uniquely cruel nightmare.

Please – learn from me, a mass murderer.

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