Homo Sapien:The Malignant Magician

By Eric Le Roy

Content 18+ My esteemed colleague Mr. Anderson (whom I have never had the pleasure of meeting in person) has nailed another great blog with a piece called “Humanity: Earth’s Ambitious Parasite.” In this article, he skillfully delineates the way in which the human monkey known as homo sapien (just look out the window and chances are you’ll see a few of them; venture outside and you’ll find them swinging along city streets) has meticulously and inexorably achieved the ruination of every other living thing – bird, beast, and flower – that it has ever got its hands on. The photos you see below show the murder of Topsy, an Asian elephant brought to America, carried out at Coney Island, N.Y. in 1903 in front of 1500 curious human onlookers. The idea was to demonstrate the wonderful properties of electricity. Among the human Fuckage directly or indirectly responsible for the public execution was none other than Thomas Edison, great American hero and one of the crookedest, sneakiest, crummiest bastards who ever had a statue built in his honor. The idea was this: Hey, if we can kill an ELEPHANT with this stuff, just imagine how we can light up your living room!!

What you see in the photos is the elephant in the process of being killed. If you care to see a video of the whole degradation you can. Just google it.

I once wrote a blog about a famous Japanese dog named Hachiko which showed the incredible loyalty of this venerable creature toward his master by waiting at the train station every day for many years, hoping to see his friend return. The man never did, but now the dog is famous, and he deserves to be. Topsy the Elephant suffered a different fate. It’s a long story, and now I will move on.

That’s because my point is not just about the needless slaughter of a single elephant, horrible though it was. Rather it has to do with the carnival atmosphere surrounding it; the sense of hideous fascination, the orgasmic thrill of watching something else die in agony. Only humans appear to register this sordid emotion, with the possible exception of cats, who like to torture little birds and spiders who are alleged to like fooling around with the flies they have trapped in their webs.

Mr. Anderson makes the case for the inevitable doom of the human race and the resurgence of the planet following this fortuitous collective demise – as well and probably better than I could. Some people would call him a ‘doom-monger’ and cry out for balloons and candles of affirmation. Others would insist that human beings are in a class by themselves on the scale of ‘Heaven’ migrants (depending on how ‘good’ they are), while others are sure that, being terminal fuck-ups though we may be in many respects, sooner or later TECHNOLOGY will bail us out. Suddenly, the air will be fresh, the rivers pure, and all will be well. A New Grace due to the latest apps on our smartphones or the gadgets of the indecipherable future.

This complacency is also mired in the fact that, no matter what we say, people just don’t care about what happens to future generations. The reason is not necessarily that we wouldn’t like to, rather we just can’t because we are not hardwired to do so. It just isn’t in us.

Don’t believe me? Ok, let’s do a simple experiment. Let’s say that you read about the crash of a commercial airliner that killed all 275 people on board. How do you react? You say, “Oh, how terrible !! Oh, that’s AWFUL!” – and next you automatically feel glad that YOU weren’t on that plane. You are briefly stunned; maybe you even post something online expressing your sorrow and how your ‘prayers’ go with the families of the deceased.

But do you cry for each of the victims? Do you investigate the lives of each one until you feel like you knew them and then suffer unspeakable grief on account of each? No, of course not. Instead, you just go on to something else and forget about it. Because you really don’t care. Again, it’s not because you are especially callous or unfeeling, no. It’s that you do not have the emotional capacity to seriously care about the deaths of 275 strangers.

This is for the same reasons that nobody truly cares about the future. Ah, yes, we say we do, but my thesis is that no human being is capable of involving himself emotionally with anybody in the future beyond his own grandchildren. Tell me that YOU care about the generation of people who will be born (if things go well) in 2624 (500 years from now), and I will call you a liar to your face. You don’t have it in you to care that far into the future.

That’s why most of the people who yell and holler and pee and posture about ‘saving the planet’ really don’t care one way or the other. They swear they do, they perhaps even wish they did, but they don’t. The reason is simple; they cannot forcibly make themselves care about the future beyond the end of their driveway, the end of their nose even.

Therefore, to recapitulate the points made so far in this essay: (1) People (homo sapiens) don’t care about the future; (2) they enjoy inflicting and watching other living things suffer unbearable pain.

If you don’t believe me, google “The History of Torture” and read up on the multitude of ingenious ways human beings have dreamed up to maximize the agony of their victims. The rack, the thumb screw; hacksaws through the bollocks and brains; trimming off eyelids and placing people under the desert sun so that their eyeballs will burn out; pouring honey over their faces so the insects will feast on them; drawing and quartering; boiling people alive, cutting open their stomachs and sticking snakes and cats inside, then sewing them back up; burning them at the stake….

Need I go on? Lions kill zebras, and snakes devour birds eggs if they can get to them…but the rack? The whipping post? The Iron Maiden, the catapult into a bed of nails…ever see a grizzly bear or a wolf do THAT?

Didn’t think so. Prisoner of War camps, anyone? Killing a breed of animals to complete extinction just to keep the city whores in fur coats? Mooseheads on the walls? Dogfights and cockfights for betting and entertainment?

Name me animals that pollute the sky, poison the sea, cause the air to choke us. Go to the beach after the seagulls have been flying about when there are no ‘tourists’ around. Clean beach. Go to the beach right after the last tourist has left. Admire the garbage, the human crap and stink left everywhere.

Then tell me about how the good guys among us are going to Heaven. All you have to do is pray a lot, and ask Father Nobodaddy for ‘forgiveness’ and YOU can ride the gravy train.


It is not doomsday hysteria to notice the obvious. The human race is on the fast track to disaster, to a cataclysm unlike any before, in fact 1000 times worse. We, WE, have created a sick, dying environment, we now have chemicals that can be used in warfare enough to make Covid seem like Hay Fever, we have nuclear weapons enough to blow us all to hell, and we have Dictators proliferating everywhere, one of whom INEVITABLY will be crazy enough to start the ball rolling. It’s going to happen, boys and girls, just like my own family members all knew that Uncle Herby was going to die of alcoholism eventually (if he didn’t get run over by a bus first). All the signs were there. It was just a matter of time.

Study the development of human weaponry, and then ask yourself: has there EVER been an available weapon that the human race did not finally use against itself? Do you think nuclear war will be an exception? Think again.

So, muh feller Amuricans, just enjoy the ride. Be glad that you’ll probably die of something else (if you are lucky) before the next Big Bang. But it’s coming, just like Uncle Herby’s next drink was always coming, until he wasn’t there to taste it anymore.

Way back in the ‘60s when the Americans and Soviets were on the verge of blowing up the world, there was a thing that came out offering instructions on what to do in case of a nuclear war. It went something like this:

  1. Go to the basement
  2. Close all the doors and windows
  3. Get under the table on your hands and knees
  4. Place your head between your raised legs
  5. Kiss Your Ass Goodbye

So that’s what Mr. Anderson is telling us. He is just more eloquent and polite than I am. My only joy in all of this is my belief that some forms of life will survive us, even if only rats (which are pretty smart by the way) and cockroaches. Maybe ants.

And they will start again, lads and lassies, long after our last rusted out automobile has disintegrated into sand and dust. Long after our non-biodegradable plastic bags have melted away.

The sun will shine for a few more billions years, and maybe the next aspirants, rising from the sea, will not be such total, absolute, greedy, civilly savage Fuck-Ups.

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