The decadent few

We were always Satan's children.

Since the beginning man's world had been built and wrought in blood and skin and bones.

The further one went into man's past the greater the horrors became. Butchers, torturers, and male feminists first and foremost. Of each other, of the world, of our own psyche in the end of it all.

The chimp was our closest mirror to the beginning. A violent brutish creature that r*ped and pillaged and cannibalized and sodomized and celebrated it all as grand feasts among its brethren even as its brethren feel to the tides of that same violence in time in the end always. Those were our beginnings.

From there man went on to build fire, and now he killed and tortured and dominated and cooked. Man cooked. A moment of civilization amongst all the barbarism that was his soul.

From there man learned to build cowtools to get better at killing. Man learned agriculture to get better at surviving, and man made the wheel to make the burden of labor easier upon his back. Through it all man butchered all that opposed him and built all that eased his burdens. The joys of the world only meant for him.

Man built the first cities, the first states, and the first nations. Man's hunger and greed ever growing. Never willing to settle. What was a gold age of the future today, became just another miserable life that had too many troubles tomorrow. Man was filled with the righteousness of his receiving ever greater dues every day the sun would rise again, and through it all, at every epoch, man looked at the past where man flourished, and claimed, look how brutish and savage these creatures were, so unenlightened, the ones who came before us.

It took man thousands of years to decide that torture was wrong. It took thousands of years for man to decide that slavery was wrong. It took thousands of years for man to realize that freedom and kindness meant more than he had ever given before so far, and man became enamored and consumed with this desire to be more than man. To be rid of the original sin that was at the bottom of his heart, that which was the beginning of him as much as the first bacteria in the oceans and the DNA of the first apes.

Man in his hubris went beyond building up civilization in his nature. Man went on to build civilization as per the ideals that could never come to be, for those very ideals that made perfect societies were in very opposition of what made man a man, the imperfections, the greed, the hubris, the desire to dominate and be dominated. Man discarded all these things as sins and man built peaceful societies. Societies that knew ever fewer conflicts, that barely knew anger and violence and retribution and blood shed. A world built for a man that was descended from angels and pure of heart, but we were never of the angels stripes.

We built world's that we could no longer fit into anymore. World's too peaceful and too perfect to ever hold barbarians such as ourselves. Man in his hubris and denial built a cage for Satan himself, but man himself was the child of the devil, of the dark that wished to consume flesh and watch mothers weep over the corpses of their sons and daughters. Man put himself in a cage believing it to be a golden palace, and there man stayed, dying.

The pieces of mankind that yet prospered were the most barbaric of Africa, the most cruel of the middle east, the most foolish of Central Asia, and the most decadent rich of every part of the world. For man was of the devil's blood, and it was the devil's desires that kept alive the fires in the heart of man to continue to persist and to reproduce and to grow. It was the disease that we tried to eradicate that had kept us alive all this time. For those worse tendencies were never a cancer upon our souls. We were the cancer metasized from the beginning.

So it came to be, that the world ended up led by the decadent. The future built by the decadent, to lead the destiny of mankind.

For it is the decadent few who never denied what mankind truly was, and so embracing themselves for all that they were, the evil, the beast, the barbaric savage, and the smallest spark of God himself in his purest form, that man survived and prospered, and kept alive barely the majority, who had become caricatures of mankind, pretending to be clean and pure and just in every moment lived. Too pure to feel. Too pure to think. Too pure to frick. Only useful as entertainment for the masters before they aged out and died.

Thus it came to be, that the many good men were the sheep, and the monstrous the Shepherds keeping them alive. For even the devil needed his flock to feed on.