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You know what I like about horse drawn carriages? It's not the romantic, olde school charm. It's not the big spoked wheels that creek and rumble along, or the snuggling together under a blanket to keep warm as the snow falls quietly, the flurries forming beautiful halos around street lamps. And it's not the clip-clop of the horse's hooves, echoing in the park, though that's close.

It's the enslavement of a lesser being!

There's something just so awesome and futuristic about putting creatures to work, who lack our intelligence and vision!

You see, like the workforce around us, it is the more clever, successful of us who enslave the stupid, and the weak, and the poor. Don't you see that this is the way of the future? Don't you see that soon the divide between rich and poor will grow deeper still? The healthy versus the decrepit, intelligent versus feebleminded, cloners versus breeders!

Soon, the poor will be limited to natural reproduction, while we the elite will be able to pick and choose our perfect offspring and their most sought after qualities. And then we'll build walls, to keep the offensive low scum and their unhappy toiling away from our advanced schools and clean cities.

Well no. We won't build them. They will. And what choice will they have? None. You can't argue with supply and demand, degenerate masses. We hold the money, and the food, and you hold nothing but bitterness. You lack even the intelligence to put your frustration into coherent words! Just grunts and mumbles and tears.

And any hope of pitiful rebellion or uprising diminishes with every technological advance, acquired daily in our new, flawless society, for technology benefits the rich first. Not to mention you're simply too tired to fight, after all that work building monuments in our honour.

And that's what I think whenever I see a horse working away to pull me around. I imagine myself using my tazer staff to prod sullen idiot slaves into lifting harder, working faster. I imagine even conquering entire other planets! The poorly evolved residents joining my herd of pack mules, dish washers, living statues... I imagine myself kicking the skinny green idiots to the ground, their huge saucer-sized black eyes looking up at me, pleading, as they bleat in supplication like disgusting livestock.

Sitting on the carriage bench, my leg twitches involuntarily at the thought. "Beautiful."

My date lifts her head up from my shoulder and turns to me. "What is?" she asks. I hadn't realized I'd said that out loud. "Uh. The horses. They're, um, beautiful."

She smiles. "Oh Mitch... You're so sensitive. I love that about you."

beeb, 2009-08-17, 05:21:04 that monument is f'ing nuts! where is it?... and what is it?