Ann Sterzinger writes (MUST READ):
“But,” says the hardened humanist: “We can’t stop letting in migrants! Because the children! The real refugees! The human suffering in the Middle East! If we try to stem the tide of terrorists pouring into Europe, we will also condemn innocent people to death! Do you only care about the innocent dead when they look like you?”
You’re close: I care more about the innocent dead when they think like me. (Well, I’ll settle for at least not thinking I deserve to be raped or die, at this point.) I care more about innocent eyes which see unique individuals such as David Bowie and Voltaire as geniuses—not as decadent Western faggots who were only born to be silenced and tossed off a roof.
Yes, in theory, one human life is worth as little as another; but that’s not how our brains work, is it? I don’t know why it’s such a big deal for any Westerner to “admit” this, but here we go: I care more about people who care about the things that give my life meaning, however illusory, than I care about people who think a rock in the desert is telling them to shoot cartoonists.
So. Motherfucking. There.