You know, I’ll go through a few weeks or months, where I start to regain hope that there’s some basic goodness in humanity, but sooner or later I’ll come across a story like this that just reaffirms once again, how cheap human life really is.
A dear friend of mine said it best. The only difference between the vast majority of humanity and baboons is that humans have learned to play with fire. That’s all most of “humanity” is. Fire monkeys.
Our favorite, fun-time activities are, in this particular order: (1) Murder - generally the more brutal and horrific, and the higher the body count, the better. Added bonus points if you can justify it in the name of your god.
(2) Torture - not quite as fun as the ultimate rush of murder, but it’s oodles of fun to hear agonized screams and to play with blood and guts.
(3) Rape - It’s the gift that keeps on giving.
(4) Theft - More fun if it can combine elements of 1 through 3.
...sometimes I don’t want to live on this planet anymore. :(
Monkeys? No, chimpanzees. Our closest relatives are nasty creatures living in hobbesian tribes. Of course, we had other relatives, which we exterminated. We are wicked creatures with a thin layer of civilization. And we are one good caldera explosion or mass epidemic away from that being peeled away.