xultar (1000+ posts) Thu Nov-04-10 02:25 PM
Original message
I am steaming with the thoughts of this in my head. It is making me bitter and hateful and I hate it. I hate them.
Unfortunately, the xultar primitive hasn't
the slightest conception of hate...
The xultar primitive moves through this world completely unaware of her belief that what she sees exists only to benefit
her; she bemoans the ascendency of those of us who know otherwise, and thinks that her reaction to our having asserted ourselves is hatred, when it is, indeed, a creeping fear that all she believes to be true is not so. She is mistaking this fear for hate.
Were I given the privilege of addressing the xultar primitive in person, even for just a scant moment, I would teach her the meaning of the word "hate," just as I would be obliged to do so for anyone daring to look down their nose at me for denying them that which I had earned to support my family.
In my darkest of fantasies, I envision happening upon the xultar primitive in my home one night, rifling through my possessions, or perhaps at my laptop perusing my accounts, deciding with impunity what portion of my earnings rightfully belong to her.
At which point I begin to teach her the error of her ways...
The xultar primitive believes she knows the meaning of pain, having endured her years of oppression at the hands of people she percieves as her inferiors. The xultar primitive, like most of the residents of the Island, suffer under the delusion that were it not for us, they wouldn't suffer so.
The xultar primitive is so gravely mistaken, that she will find herself laying on the floor of my study in a pool of her own blood, covered in offal, and not have the slightest clue that it is her own.
The xultar primitive, should she ever find herself in such a predicament, will leave this world screaming, but not in pain, but in the realization that Exodus 21:23 wasn't just some ancient Jewish scribbling.
Such will be the fate of the xultar primitive, should she continue in her misguided crusade of theft and self-righteous murder fantasies.
The unimaginable bitch hasn't a clue that killing is far more satisfying when one is defending one's family and property (and therefore
perfectly legal), rather than because some half-witted Mocha Messiah goaded you into believing another's plasma TV somehow renders their existence null and void.