With the I'll premeditated inception of a forbidden
junction, thoroughly dissect man's aesthetic capacity to
cultivate destruction. Corporeal makers have condoned all
ramifications and doomed our dimensions. Reviled are
those who choose to metamorphose. Fixed frames are
imperiled by the amalgamation of the inferior arthropod
with the superior human being. Witness sapience wane as
we clinch the fashion of chitinous exoskeletons. If the
author of perfection is responsible for the conception of
multifarious vermins, does that make such divine Creator
a monster? Whether wrought by higher grace or shaped by
nameless energy, only humanity can be held liable for its
calloused achievements. We are the vile chief denizens
and catalysts of our own consumption; the ones
proliferating in ruin. The eradication of subsistence
will be realized by our own hands.