With the I'll premeditated inception of a forbidden 
junction, thoroughly dissect man's aesthetic capacity to 
cultivate destruction. Corporeal makers have condoned all 
ramifications and doomed our dimensions. Reviled are 
those who choose to metamorphose. Fixed frames are 
imperiled by the amalgamation of the inferior arthropod 
with the superior human being. Witness sapience wane as 
we clinch the fashion of chitinous exoskeletons. If the 
author of perfection is responsible for the conception of 
multifarious vermins, does that make such divine Creator 
a monster? Whether wrought by higher grace or shaped by 
nameless energy, only humanity can be held liable for its 
calloused achievements. We are the vile chief denizens 
and catalysts of our own consumption; the ones 
proliferating in ruin. The eradication of subsistence 
will be realized by our own hands.