I really don’t want to do this.
I want to write weird little science fiction stories and do a little work to pay my bills and just live, you know? Go on hikes and play games and drink whiskey and sing and dance and fall over in a pile of laughter…
—but these monsters, they don’t stop.
Their greed and avarice and putrid attempts to label imperialism and colonialism as ‘strategic’ or ‘pragmatic,’ like they’re playing a board game when innocent children are murdered by the thousand—it’s endless. An infinite well of depravity from which only they can drink.
And what would that make me, if I just didn’t care? What joys could I steal knowing they were paid for in the blood of innocent children? That those I accept to represent me on the global stage took my consent and used it to support the most wicked and evil acts?
Apartheid. Genocide. Ethnic cleansing. War crimes.
They want to make monsters of us all, by way of proxy and silent complicity.
We cannot let them.
WE MUST NOT LET THEM.