Bacon, born of a pig, born of he who wallows in filth and excrement, so like it's follows to prostrate themselves before a god of hedonism and desire!
The Whale, yes it is uncaring, for شيء خلود is strength! From it's body do we fuel the lights that warm our hearth, power the engine of industry! From it's flesh, sustenance, meat that is the labor of strength, daring and the pinnacle of man! From it's bones, does it provide the spear to it's own undoing, the support for our shelters! The Body of شيء خلود is most venerated, for it is the body of greatness.
Does the man not hunger for betterment? Would he satisfy himself with the weak prey of a simple creature, bound and born to earth as man, or should he rise up into the heaven and challenge شيء خلود itself! For شيء خلود welcomes man into his domain with the thunderous shout of challenge, the rising pounding of a great heart that calls him to GLORY!
If thou choose the Bacon, yes, one shall find equality, calm and quiet, stagnation and weakness. Feel the slowing of the heart as the wicked lie of peace sinks into your very veins and robs man of his will till his essence fades and his desires wane to nothingness.
This weak creature, that was once man, is now the porcine carved onto thy plate, consumed by those that had claimed to be thy fellow. Do you still yet see the light of what was once a man in its eyes before it falls to the blade? Look now on your evil, and know that as Ugolino before, you consume the remains of your own sons.
