It's like when we'd go over to grandma's for Thanksgiving. She'd work hard all week cutting up vegetables, making fresh cranberry sauce, and baking pies. Food left on our plates was like a repudiation of all her efforts. She'd scream and cry and torture the offending dinner guest with cattle prods and fireplace pokers. She once shot Uncle Jim Bob after he refused a slice of peach cobbler . I'm sure God feels the same way about endangered species--he wants us to enjoy them right into extinction.
This is the kind of satire that leaves me crying because it's just so true. Read the whole thing. The General is usually worth it.
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