In a litigious society such as ours, who can resist the urge to blurt out something twice as evil as what you may normally use to defame somebody—especially in the written word? “F*ck you” can quickly become “f*ck you _____,” until it all just spirals out of control usually ending in tears and runny makeup.

Written words offer some thin layer of protection and a sense of security that you have time to edit your thoughts precisely and that you have time to formulate a retort rather than acting on instinct alone (that would get most of you idiots killed anyhow).

The recent attack on what your government calls “free speech” rights by way of a blogger’s identity ordered to be forcefully revealed by Internet giant Google by New York State Supreme Court will set a precedent in your laws but also another major milestone for setbacks in evolution of species.

How far do you go before you breed a generation absolutely silent?

There are two ways to handle this: 1) encourage rational thought that would logically indicate to anyone that emotional response has no consequence other than “hurting your poor feelings;” or, 2) play into the whim of irrational thought and censor speech because it “hurts your poor f*cking feelings.”

Let’s understand something about where all this is coming from in the first place. Do you understand why your “feelings” get hurt? Or do you cry in the corner and blame the world?  Sissy.  Anyhow, back in the day (and in this pussified world today to some degree), our emotional brain played an important role in keeping us alive. Before we ever had the time or the thumbs to sit around and contemplate our world and its mechanics, it was considered a good day to simply survive it and maybe hump a few of our kind to produce some more of us. That was the prime directive of the species, after all.

Emotions come from the very ancient “reptilian” parts of the brain. They exist to do exactly one thing: think on autopilot while your slower, logical brain sits there and tries to figure out what the hell is going on. Don’t believe me? Then try an experiment with me. Light something on fire. It can be a lighter, your stove burner, a campfire—whatever. Next, put your hand in the flames. Now see how long you can keep it there. Bet you jerked away in a hurry, huh Sally?  That’s because your automatic savior keeps you from doing retarded things like lighting yourself on fire. God didn’t save you, your reptilian brain saved you. It used your nerves to feed it data, sensed imminent harm or danger then completely took over your body including all the muscles in your arm and hand to remove the threat.

So what? God, you people kill me.

As it relates to this recent evolutionary blasphemy, the point is that WORDS ARE NOTHING MORE THAN WORDS. Further written words are not even verifiably spoken words coming from a direct, identifiable source who may mean you harm. So emotional response is completely out of line. The fact that your “feelings get hurt” is only relevant when your life is in danger. So unless there was a direct threat to the safety of your skank called Liskula Cohen, it makes absolutely zero sense suing on the grounds of hurt feelings, much less your courts (meaning your overlords) supporting such a ridiculous notion.

Where this is all going is that now you monkeys are likely going to crack down on your species making others of your species reptilian brains respond in “undesirable ways.” This will lead to more laws that limit how you pass air over the vocal chords that have evolved for speech (completely independent of your moronic thinking seemingly consciously undermining the very survival of the species) and how you use motor function to communicate thoughts and ideas that are not vocalized but conveyed through written medium—Lest we take the chance of making one of the species feel like they “don’t belong” to the clan. Back in the day, if there was real danger, you’d have known it. If you lived, your killer instincts would have been passed on through sex (provided you weren’t ugly as sin). If a real threat existed, there would have been some quick bashing of heads with rocks to figure out who was right and the species inherits the winner.

You’re all skanks—sue me.