Everyone knows our lives are insignificant specks on some backwater planet that was unlucky enough to be at just the right distance from the sun so that we can have our little wars and parties, and we think we can make a difference if one little speck can influence a whole lot of other ones, we think we can make a difference in our insignificance, that maybe we can all scream up and out to the Universe or God with neon signs and flashy advertisements and squeal how important we are, how real our existence is, why the rest of the universe needs and yearns for our pollution, our corruption and hate and green pieces of paper, how it needs our greed and disrespect, how these little specks of nothing are microparasites and viruses that will suck the life out of everything like we do to eachother, how the inanimation of the universe is no obstacle because little specks think every other little speck is inanimate too, and how we raped this earth as a practice run, a prototype foreplay for the grand, grand universe, and that there will be specks who’ll try to cry for love while others purchase the stars; we all know this, everyone does, this is common knowledge and don’t you dare hide it; do something about it.