If you feel like posting 30 times on a bread, then post 30 times on a bread. No one is stopping you, but your own coward self.

Don't be that COWARD, who sits there at his computer watching the rest of us shape history. Take your fill. This future lays ripe for the taking. YOU and no one else is the master of your destiny. Not God, or some politician, religion, doctrine or law. RISE you fucking warriors! Let us do battle. Amongst each other and all those we oppose. WE ARE BORN PURSUING AND BEING PURSUED! We live in a realm where morals and ethics are subjective and malleable things. And where laws are subject to change. Surely, more so here than most other places. Therefore, let the best man win. By any man's own rules. And let the weak accept defeat as they always must, with the comfort that this wretched planet may finally know a true hero.

I aim to take what is yours. And, you are wise to be on guard. Weakness is pitiful and committed in vain. Why are you not taking for yourself? Do you pity those who fall to your blows? Does your God speak to you from within and steady your raging hand, as evil assails you? Do you sit down when you pee? The weak do not provide any with a worthy adversary and they most certainly do not fight monsters, thugs, nor the dark forces of evil. The cold of my creek bares more sting than their distant disrespectful scorn. But you "warriors", if you can even be called that, you sustain me. You're fucking delicious. I eat your souls and bones and grow stronger, with each and every battle. I challenge your ability, will and inclination to do anything on your own, and you blow away like leaves. The veneer of your feinted strength cannot disguise your crushing vulnerabilities. You self-debasing degenerates, easily led astray by your own sacred songs and patriotic hymns. Look how you abandon even your own very right to do battle with your foes, because the "man", some "man", somewhere, says so, whether it's some internet "secret agent man", the politician, the lawmaker, the priest… You don't even know you're a slave. You fucking slave. Bow before me… You are not worthy of the spoils of anything but the scraps that fall from the table of the strong. This very environment, created before the dawn of man, of which we are all thrust in, is against you on all sides. Your own brother would kill you for that last shred of meat on the table, because you are WEAK. And that is what the weak do… They die. So just fucking die already, you weak souls. You are like a thick fog over the battlefield, where the strong wage war.

And you, "Patriots". You slaves, completely powerless to do anything without Daddy-gov'ts whip lashing across your back in complete mastership. I challenge you, your masters, and the house of your Lords. Your Gods, your fables, your elaborate fucking bedtime stories for adults. I challenge you all, by my very birth, as a man. A man whose doctrine is his own, and who bows to no man, politician, throne or God. I am a threat to your survival and you to my own. This is reality. This is happening. Were there only the two of us and one shred of meat on the table, I would cut your throat. If you are not willing to do the same, then damn you, damn your children and everything you stand for! Your seed is a pollution to all that is noble and great amongst humans. You coward. You pacifist. You bringer of disease. You thief of a warrior's honor and harborer of death.

This world, and surely this board was not made for the weak…

Grow stronger or die. Hunt, for this moment you are surely being hunted. Adapt or BE overcome… Men like me are coming for YOU, as everyman should, you weak and pathetic, do-nothings. You burdens to us all. You weak-willed men. Surely, you will vilify me, for speaking plainly to you. For speaking the truth of the reality of the cage you reside in. It is entirely in your nature to reply with the insults of the embarrassed. You slaves tend to love your chains. However, the one thing you will surely not do is prove me wrong. Because you are weak… And death is the destiny of the weak. Just ask the trees, the grass, the horses, the birds, or the one who is not beholden to another's philosophy… You will not defeat any evil, fight any crime, or expose anything that has not already been more quickly and thoroughly exposed by someone better than you.

The weak are food.

Who's dining?