Mark Blickley

D.O.A – Dawn of Agriculture

Before the Dawn Of Agriculture men like ME where slapped into the shadow of sexual shame but now who needs muscles or chiseled chins, great size or strength, a lover’s passion or a thick throbbing cock, ‘cause for ten thousand years now I can persecute any female for infidelity towards ME and hold paternity privilege over MY biological children because we exceptional farmers invented marriage to destroy human sexuality  by enslaving women with MY property for sex so I no longer need to share or compete or settle for an alpha males’ sloppy seconds within foraging groups that are forced to share what they carry with them instead of our enforced legal couplings that takes the innocent, primal pleasure and mystery out of sex by connecting fucking to birth thanks to dirt MY dirt MY very own thousand acres of seeded soil littered with pens full of MY trapped sheep, cattle, goats and pigs which means I can pork any female I fancy and destroy any man who thwarts MY desire as simply as the bulls I castrate into submission to easily herd into MY slaughterhouses that feed all the inferior people no longer dependent on their hunting and gathering skills but on ME to stay alive so not only am I not considered a sociopath by hoarding food but am praised at harvest time like a goddamned hero because I have legally claimed and legally raped those precious few life-giving inches of topsoil with rotating crops and extended grasslands that exhausts and shrinks the earth, MY earth MY reign of forcing agricultural workers to bend over in the fields, stupidly exposing hairless backs to sun poisoning instead of their protective hunters’ heads of hair harvesting MY food that shrinks the testicles of everyone who is forced to feed on the cheap calories of MY industrialized plants and animals that lowers fertility, but who needs big balls anymore when you don’t have to kill larger animals  in order to survive or attract females with your superior physical attributes proving I am the social parasite Sultan of Swat who grows fat on the food  I’ve  seized by stealing public land in the name of government protected ownership as the leader of a vicious pack of hyenas circling a luscious, lovely lamb like you because I am your superior and you know it despite your jealousy of my factory farm fresh endowments and of my lavish, decadent  lifestyle that turns the lips on your face and the lips between your legs moist with desire as you ache to suckle my vegetable love that grows bigger, thicker, stronger than any inferior substitute you can pluck from wild dark forests you pretend contain freedom from want but what I want I get and what I get I need and I want I need is for you to fall to your knees in phallic worship of my industrial container that turns my package into the most sought after edible on God’s green earth so hail to thee oh Dawn of Agriculture the holy D.O.A!

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