"Humanity" is, in fact, a lie.
The foundations of Homo sapiens are found in the parasitical inclination.
What maximizes parasitism, I wonder?
The correct answer is psychopathy.
Some strands are more parasitic and psychopathic than others.
It's up to anti-parasitic personalities to balance nature out.
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"Fadi Bakr was a 25-year-old law student. He dreamed of justice. Now, his body is a ledger of scars, his mind a prison of screams.
On January 5, 2024, as he scavenged for scraps to feed his starving family in Gaza City, a sniper’s bullet ripped through his leg. He collapsed, blood pooling beneath him. Israeli soldiers found him gasping in the street—not to save him, but to drag him into darkness. They beat him with rifle butts, stripped him naked, and spat on his trembling body. “Confess now, or I’ll shoot you,” they snarled, pressing a gun to his temple. Fadi, trained in law, whispered, “I have no secrets.” They laughed.
For 30 days, Fadi vanished into Sde Teiman—a hell Israel denies exists. A place where zip ties cut into flesh until wrists bled, where blindfolds hid the faces of men who urinated on prisoners for sport, where dogs mauled boys barely old enough to shave. They hung him from the ceiling, his dislocated shoulders screaming. They shocked his genitals with wires. They forced him to kneel on broken glass while loudspeakers blasted death metal into his skull until his ears bled. “This is the punishment for sleeping,” they hissed as fists cracked his ribs for daring to close his eyes.
Around him, the old and broken writhed in agony. A grandfather with Alzheimer’s, naked and soiling himself, was kicked for forgetting his “crimes.” A boy with epilepsy convulsed on the floor, soldiers mocking his seizures. A diabetic man’s legs turned black from gangrene, zip-tied to a hospital bed as doctors—doctors—watched him rot. “Just this week, two prisoners had their legs amputated,” an Israeli physician muttered, shrugging. “Routine.”
Fadi listened to the screams of men raped with batons. He smelled the stench of feces smeared on faces. He tasted blood from his own shattered teeth. “Torture was for everyone,” another survivor would later say. Even the blind. Even the dying.
After 30 days, they dumped Fadi back into Gaza like trash. No charges. No explanation. Just a bus ride past mass graves and the smoldering ruins of his university. His mother, who’d buried his photo in a makeshift cemetery, fainted when she saw him limping home. His little sister no longer recognizes his face—the face Israel broke.
What chills the soul is not the barbarity—it’s the banality. The casual sadism of soldiers snapping selfies with broken men. The doctors who heal wounds just so they can be reopened. The politicians who call this “security” while children starve.
Fadi studied law. He believed in justice. Now, he limps through a graveyard called Gaza, his leg still bleeding, his dreams ash. “I am evidence,” he says, voice trembling. But evidence of what? That the world rewards monsters? That humanity is a lie?
Fadi. The grandfather. The boy. The amputee. Let them haunt every parliament, every newsroom, every dinner table where cowards shrug, “It’s complicated.”
No. It is not.
This is a genocide. These are war crimes."
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Fadi Bakr was a 25-year-old law student. He dreamed of justice. Now, his body is a ledger of scars, his mind a prison of screams.
On January 5, 20...
