EATING MR. NED

There’s something indescribably delicious in consuming the oppressor.  The fat little man with the red jacket and top hat has cracked his whip for the last time.

How he was able to wield it and keep the lion at bay has always been a puzzle.  The lion could have easily overcome him.  Perhaps he had tricked the animal into performing, or more likely, he had mistreated the creature so badly that its spirit was broken.

That’s what it really comes down to, doesn’t it?  Forced subjugation, living only to amuse or serve another.  The sentience of the other is disputed, or dismissed altogether, to eliminate any nagging moral doubts.  As long as the being at your service has no value, who cares how it’s treated?

But if you still need a mandate to justify your selfishness, you can pick any number of them from the prevailing ideologies.  Uncomfortable with strange customs that differ from yours?  Label them with the moniker infidel and you can annihilate them at will.  Feeling a little guilty about dining on Bambi?   Just remember animals have no souls therefore deserve no humane treatment.  Can’t stand your smelly neighbors?  Hey, God created a hierarchy; those slimemolds are at the bottom.

As long as you’re deluding yourself, why not add a big dollop of entitlement?  It will make you all the more scrumptious when you’re finally devoured.

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