On The Rightness Of Us

The Fourth Sermon

Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…

I look upon my flock, and I find much to be proud of. I see ambitious glints in your eyes as you contemplate your next opportunity to feast. I hear greedy growls in your stomachs as your bodies rebel against being deprived of the pleasure-pain sensation of fullness for longer than a few moments. I smell the perfume of sweat, burps, and farts which accompany a proper fattening of piggies, and I frolick in the aroma. I hear their attendant melodies and harmonies in a chorus of trumpets, and I sing my song of exultation to the heavens, a psalm of divinity meant for this earth and this life rather than for the next.

Consumption is evolution! The universe is Will to Power; thus, consume, be pleasured, and grow in your power! Blessed is he who takes unto himself, for the buffet of the universe is his by right. Woe unto he who restrains himself, for he will inherit the salad. Praise be to you all, my Children of Abundance!

I also find much reason to be ashamed. My church welcomes all reasons for feeding, but few of you have accepted the consequences of living a truly unfettered life. Look within your hearts, my flock. Most of you, like most of the common herd, harbor broad lists of priorities and restrictions that determine the means by which you pursue your ends. You care what others think about you, how you will be able to continue your feast tomorrow, your well-being. Of course, how much you care about any given restriction or priority will vary from soul to soul among you all. In general, however, you may have a single goal, but you would not gladly sacrifice everything else to achieve it.

The slob feedee is not one of those people.

The slob can commit herself to a single goal completely, absolutely, and unflinchingly. In pursuit of her goal of ultimate pleasure, she has no limits, no inhibitions, no fear. Nothing chains her or holds her back except her own massive bulk. You cannot make her flinch or falter. She cannot be intimidated, blackmailed, coerced, or otherwise convinced to back off from the buffet. There is no sacrifice she is unwilling to make or principle she is unwilling to compromise, all in the name of worshipping unto herself, unto Obesity.

She is more than willing to endure warm urination and copious defecation on herself; in fact, she revels in it, actively pursues it. A taboo in the ordinary world of ordinary men, and only slightly less so in the feedist community, these activities are the norm for the slob feedee, and thus welcome in my Church. She understands that a pig gets dirty sometimes, and that waddling to the toilet to relieve herself burns precious calories. She knows that a wet belch and a wetter fart is not reason for disgust, only a sign that she is ready for more food. The aroma is no odor; to the willing feeder, breathing in his feedee's methane emissions is as life-giving and necessary as oxygen. Neither is afraid; both have reason to be elated. She is a massive baby, accepting and loving the consequences of being a massively slobby blob.

I implore you all to look deep within yourselves, and to ask whether you would not let yourself go completely - I mean truly just let go, in the Tyler Durden sense - if you had the preciously rare opportunity to do so. Certainly if you derive no pleasure from the thought, and have every reason to suspect that your happiness as a piggy would diminish, then I bear no malediction towards you. The freedom to indulge also includes the freedom not to indulge, and my Church does not consider this position to be heretical.

However, I leave you with a challenge. Look out among the slobs and blobs, the consequences of the unfettered piggy lifestyle, their sacrifice of basic hygiene for heightened pleasures, and ask yourself whether the exchange is unfair. Gaze upon the mac-&-cheese tray and the chocolate fountain, and throw your head into it with reckless abandon! Be inspired to take a massive shit in the buffet line! Dare to plop your fat ass down in front of the soft serve machine and make the fuckers carry you out! Gas the place on your way out, and take responsibility for the crime! There is no crime in love and war, except the crime of losing. Do not lose yourself to fear; lose yourself to yourself. Dive headlong into your pleasures; take deeper wisdom from the philosophy of the slob.

Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.

The Tenth Sermon

Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…

I laugh at the creeds of the masses, who pretend to denigrate the pleasures of the flesh in order to hide their own pathetic little impotences. I reject the acceptance of circumstances, and I make the very things the ascetics avoid my goal. I am not interested in peace of mind, only in freedom and personal power.

To be free, a man must be free of other men. That is freedom. That, and nothing else. Freedom lies in the material world, and can only be achieved through struggle. We must conquer ourselves, our enemies, and achieve everything we desire. We must fight ourselves out of bondage, become our own masters, let no one rule over us, and crush anyone who tries. Then we can do as we please.

Conflict cannot be avoided. Passions enable us to deal with conflict in ways that strengthen us. Unlike the masses of ordinary men, The Feedist embraces his or her passion and uses it as a vessel to develop strength, pleasure, and, ultimately, life-affirming experiences. The Feedist must use their passions to empower themselves and achieve their goals. 

Conflict must not be avoided; it must be accepted and faced head-on. Confliict forces change, adaptation, evolution - or death. The fullness of life and the finality of death are equally terrifying. We stare down both aspects of existence with equal fervor and determination, putting our lives on the line on the quest for our personal goals. To the Feedist, one must be all or nothing: the heaviest, the fattest, the most pampered spoiled blob on the face of the planet - or nothing at all.  

Where the masses are moderate, orderly, and serene, the Feedist is indulgent, chaotic, and passionate. We are not interested in any sort of "diets", "restrictions", or "eating merely to survive". We are interested in unleashing our inner power, about glorifying the strength of the individual who deserves to be glorified, and crushing the weaknesses of those who deserve to be crushed. We seek to maximize our experiences, our possibilities, our passions, our self-development, our self-realization, our self-actualization, our perpetual strengthening and expansion of mind and body.

Mine is an affirmation of life, an embrace of the full spectrum of life's opportunities, including the primal emotions and wildness of being. Leashing one's emotions for the sake of personal gain or self-improvement is no contradiction, and indeed fulfills a long-term goal for future success. Leashing one's emotions for the sake of denying their existence is a denial of life; may the weak be blotted out from the surface of the earth!

We walk a dangerous path, O my Children! We reject the safety of the skinnies and walk a tightrope over an abyss in the quest for growth and passion. We say "YES" to all of life. We seek pride, nobility, and assertiveness, to create ultimate beauty with our bodies as the sculptor and the sculpted. 

Change the world to your liking, my Children! Embrace your hungers and consume all that there is! Unfetter yourselves, and become as the gods and goddesses of old.

Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.

The Testament of the High Priest of Feedism

The First Sermon (On Beauty) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748748052717846528/the-first-sermon?source=share

The Second Sermon (On Death) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748748196031889408/the-second-sermon?source=share

The Third Sermon (On Sin) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748748411016249344/the-third-sermon?source=share

The Fourth Sermon (On Slob) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748749401773703168/the-fourth-sermon?source=share

The Fifth Sermon (On Power) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748749645936787456/the-fifth-sermon?source=share

The Sixth Sermon (On Meaning) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750067401474048/the-sixth-sermon?source=share

The Seventh Sermon (On Godhood) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750136775213056/the-seventh-sermon?source=share

The Eighth Sermon (On Independence) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750376780562432/the-eighth-sermon?source=share

The Ninth Sermon (On Struggle) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750451613335552/the-ninth-sermon?source=share

The Tenth Sermon (On Freedom) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750533598281728/the-tenth-sermon?source=share

The Eleventh Sermon (On Life) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750613925478400/the-eleventh-sermon?source=share

The Twelfth Sermon (On Risk) https://www.tumblr.com/highpriestoffeedism/748750697917448192/the-twelfth-sermon?source=share

The Second Sermon

Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…

Most men lead lives of quiet desperation. Much the same could be said about feedists. Too often I am overjoyed to see a little piggy in the making overjoyed at her growth and gluttony and laziness, only to be dismayed when she gets "too fat". I am ashamed of these half-measures and compromises of the soul; "death feeder" and "death feedee" are now consequently four-letter words even among those who should know better. Most feedists fear death and will do their best to flirt with the edge of the abyss, but will never cross it wilingly. This is no position based on sound rationality and crystal logic, but on fear of what is not and will never be in one's control.

Let me be clear: there are no blasphemies in my church. The closest to one, however, are the words "too much". There is no such thing. Nothing in life is to be feared, my flock. Only to be understood.

Behold! I preach unto you an affirmation to life, a "YES" to existence, a demand for "MORE" from the buffet of the universe! I preach unto you the death feedist as the ultimate expression thereof.

Death comes for us all. Regardless of your apprehensions, your fears, or your efforts to reverse your current course and regain a smidgen of your former healthy self, you can do nothing to reverse the universe. Everything succumbs to entropy. Trees, buildings, steel...even us. We are all neither skin and bones nor flab and chub, but a walking and/or waddling pile of ashes. One day, even the grandest and most ambitious of us all will perish in the patiently inexorable entropy of the universe. All that awaits us is emptiness, much like the final empty plate after all the yummies have been consumed.

I do not preach to you of this hell to frighten you; I offer you the unvarnished truth as its own sort of heaven. A rebuttal to those who would have you only nibble at the cornucopia of life, to those half-hearted half-piggies of half-measures and half-helpings who wish to straddle the fence as long as possible, who wish to remain in the realm of ordinary people and in the realm of the enlightened feedist simultaneously. I am no dietician nor half-hearted feeder in the Schopenhauerean tradition. I do not believe that the Sisyphean task of making sure my feedee consumes all and fattens infinitely is meaningless just because it is impossible. I am profoundly Nietzchean, as is befitting a feedist of my stature as the High Priest.

I preach unto you the way of the feeder: a feeder and feedee alike, those worthy of the name, look into the gaping yaw of the abyss, the isolated stagnation of the last proton decaying at the end of the universe, and lift a middle finger to it all by indulging in all of the sweet treats as much as they possibly can while they are here. Yours is not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live.

Both the feeder and the feedee, then, are superior types of human beings. They know that the feedee's lifestyle will accelerate her demise, and they accept it, with exuberant greedy eagerness. Unlike the masses of ordinary Homo Sapiens, a member of Porcine Obesus accepts death as part of the human experience, regardless of how much she actually eats or how big and unhealthy she actually becomes. Her mind may be permanently fuzzy and soft with gluttony, greed, laziness, and more-or-less constant post-orgasmic bliss, but the part of her mind which accepts her destiny and begs for more is crystal clear. By continuing to glut herself well past the point of no return, the feedee willingly surrenders all attachments to her previous life and the expectations of a normal society not meant for the likes of her and her feeder. While fully embracing the possibility of immediate annihilation as well as the certainty of her eventual death by chcoolate, she achieves eternal bliss in the ever-evolving pursuit of sexual and aesthetic perfection.

Her former self, riddled with anxiety, doubts, and fears of the consequences of her actions, is henceforth destroyed. Every act of destruction is also an act of creation: having renounced all control of her future to her death feeder for the sake of their shared goal, she regains her femininity by taking action and sacrificing her skinny body and her future health for the sake of a higher purpose. She gives up all illusions of hope for losing weight eventually, or for control over her habits and lifestyle, because they have been pacifying her all her life without solving the underlying existential anxiety. By facing her death head-on and embracing the gluttonous piggy within, she is a truly remarkable person worth indulging.

I implore you all to embrace yourselves and to embrace your desires, to fix your guiding star on a single point somewhere between the Golden Arches and go after it with all that you are. You are born to consume and to grow and to be happy. to know that death smiles for us all, that you must smile back with grease dribbling down your lips and your chubby fingers grasping for more. Reject the calls from the herd to remain mediocre, aspire to a higher state of being, become too fat to move, become too fat to live, become too joyful to care. Amor Fati; Love Thy Fate.

Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.

The Eighth Sermon

Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…

For too long, mankind has externalized its highest values and ideals of perfection into the cosmos. It is time, O Children of Abundance, for the individual to realize himself as the creator of these values, and thus capable of forging his own meaning and embodying his own justification, rather than remaining dependent on external institutions and creeds.

Fear not thy own judgment just because you are not omniscent. Blind faith will not grant thee omniscence, nor is such a state desirable in and of itself, for it represents a cessation for the quest for truth, and permission to kill one's own precious childlike curiosity. I call myself the high priest of a church, but in truth I bear no desire to maintain dogmas or to condemn the passions of the flesh as a church is prone to do. An attack on the roots of passion means an attack on the roots of life; the practice of a church is hostile to life, and I have no desire to condemn any feedist worthy of the name.

No fanatic speaks to you here; no faith is demanded of thee. If these sermons be compiled into a bible, let the book be shredded and its maxims held up to the light of thine own independent reason. I speak to those who have ears for my words, and who have the courage and the will to contemplate them.

I teach you the deification of thyself, the spiritualization of thy cravings, the beautification of thy passions, the reverence for thine own spirit. Only such noble souls are worthy of partaking in the feast of this world without guilt, without fear, without hesitation.

The Way of the Feeder is the Way of the World. It is the manifestation of the primordial drive to reinstitute the yearning for greatness and true opulence which, stripped of the sacred and the profane, is becoming increasingly inhopsitable to it. Your life and your happiness is too precious to surrender without a fight; go forth today and indulge! 

Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.

The Twelfth Sermon

Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…

I step with thee into the Casino of Life and approach the games. I take the dice into my hands. I look upon the tableau and see the squares of victory with their prizes. I shake the dice, knowing that the victories earned are not what matter. The zest of life is the rattle of dice.

The croupier asks, "Mr. High Priest, how much would you like to bet on the throw of the dice?" I look at my dice. They are Talent, Dreams, and Focus. I look at my chips, one color representing my material possessions, another representing my societal connections, and still another representing my most precious commodity: time.

I tell the croupier: "Put it all on the table." The croupier looks alarmed. "But Mr. High Priest, you may lose all your property, your society, and your time, and thus your life in the pursuit of your Will to Power! Are you willing to bet all of that on your Talent, your Dreams, and your Focus?" Everyone in the Casino looks at me now. Very few gamblers in the Casino of Life truly move all in.

Laughing heartily at the croupier, I roll the bones and declare to the masses of spectators: "The greatest risk in life is not to risk it all!"

So it is with you, O my Children. You may be the greediest, most ravenous, most gluttonous and lustful of them all, but you will never win all you desire unless you embrace the glory of risk.

“But High Priest", I hear you say, "what if I lose?" I say unto you: You cannot lose! Everyone wants to define your life, to shape or to their ends. Take hold of your life, and you win no matter the actual outcome. It is not the victory which defines you; it is the fight. Every time you struggle against the spirit of entropy and gravity, you win. 

I say unto you: Paradise, spoken slowly, is literally a pair of dice. Gamble what you have, for if you bury your talent and dreams, you will be deemed an unworthy servant and thereafter doomed to a life lived in ennui and quiet desperation. 

If your situation seems impossible and all odds seem against thee, do not bet against thyself. Just remember, opportunities are brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.

Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.

The Fifth Sermon

Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…

My flock, my following of devoted acolytes, yours is not to work or to labor. Thou art born for games. Nothing else. Every child knows that play is nobler than work. Games are the microcosm of war, and war is god. Compete for every calorie, for all resources belong to those who take them by force. You are all royals in training. Stand up straight, as is fitting of one of your stature. Consume, gorge, and smile.

Fear not the moral shackles which attempt to slim you down to their pitiful weight class. Such humiliation is for the masses, whose lot is to make possible your lives of decadent pleasure and abundance. Very useful are they, for fixing and maintaining your palaces, for Doordashing your feasts, for filling the factories, for cultivating the fields. Thou art under no obligation to obey anything or anybody. It is only the masses of common people who must bow to such cheap mental thralls, for fear of breaking so-called moral principles. All moral principles, therefore, are the tools, not the masters, of the strong. Power made moral codes, and power enforces them.

Therefore I beseech you, above all else, seek Power. Thou requirest more and better food? Seek Power. Thou seekest comfort and luxury and beauty and material wealth and spiritual enlightenment for the remainder of your days? Seek Power. Is the world your oyster and all that is left for you to do is to prove it? Seek Power.

For every goal you reach, let yourself be dissastified with its accomplishment. Set for yourself higher and nobler goals; consume more and still more; grow larger and still more larger, until all that exists is you. I know you all, my devoted flock, better than you care to know yourselves. There is no point at which the cycle of greedy consumption and acquistion and indulgence ceases to turn, unless that cycle is itself the goal. Attain your goals, and attain the power to reach new ones. That is the Way of the Feeder.

Blessed are the greedy, for they shall inherit the world. Cursed are the temperate, for they shall content themselves with crumbs.

Blessed are the gluttonous, for they shall be full and content for an hour. Cursed are the self-restrained, for they shall be hungry for a lifetime.

Blessed are the obese, for their beauty and allure is beyond doubt. Cursed are the skeletal, for they will be passed over for juicier fare.

Blessed are the slothful, for they have accepted their fate. Cursed are the early birds, for their fear of the uncertain future rules their experience of the present moment.

Blessed are the voluputaries, for they shall obtain great treasure. Cursed are the believers in good and evil, for they are frightened by shadows.

Blessed are the death-defiant, for their days will be long and full. Cursed are those who fear life, for they shall perish amidst plenty.

Blessed is he who makes enemies of dieticians and doctors, for they shall make him a hero. Cursed is he who captiulates to their will, for they have not your best interests at heart.

Blessed are you all, for you are all Children of Abundance. Blessed be this world, for it is your cornucopia.

Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.

I Have Returned

Behold! I have returned to you all, my Children of Abundance, to re-establish my church! Follow me, and obtain everlasting yummies. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.

The Seventh Sermon

Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…

I have already evangelized to you of the Church of Feedism several times without the necessity of pointing to a physical building called a 'church'. There is no cathedral, no dusty masoleum requiring worship. There is a place far more worthy of your reverence and honor: thy own body. Your body is a temple, and yours is Your Church, your holy shrine, your declaration of your commitment to a life of hedonic bliss. Display your favorite soul foods everywhere your body can expand, as a testament to the richness and flavor of your soul!

In Beyond Good and Evil, Nietzsche wrote: "Anything which is a living thing and not a dying body will have to be an incarnate will to power, it will strive to grow, spread, seize, become predominant -- not from any morality or immorality but because it is living and because life simply is Will to Power. " The Will to Power is the energy that drives all life, the desire within every living being to acquire and exercise power, power to enforce one's own will and advance one's own position on and within the universe.

In the hands of the Feeder, this philosophy is directed toward the expansion of one's self or one's partner outward and upward and in all other dimensions, via the overabundance of food, converted to the overabundance of Obesity. It is worship of the overabundance of life, because it is the worship of the self. To us, the Will to Power is the Will to More.

So it is with you, my Children. We must move forward, always forward, because forward is the only direction in front of us, and the only place we can go. Eat, drink, and be merry, and let your taste buds be your guide.

The path towards omnipresence and enlightenment is not a leisurely stroll, O my flock. It is fraught with challenge, for you are surrounded on all sides by those who preach abstinence and temperance. The masses will shame you, they will question you, they will threaten you, and they will attempt to scare you into changing your ways. You have chosen a life of happiness, one free from the shackles which imprison the average person. You are of the world and competent within it, but you are not ruled by it. This frightens the infidel; give him reason to be frightened. 

The Way of the Feeder cannot die, for it is the way of Man. It is the Will to Power, to Life Incarnate. Celebrate, O my flock! For yours is the heart of things, and the meaning, and the glory. 

I beseech you, my Children of Abundance, do not lose heart in the face of the world. You are the heirs and heiresses of a world made of raw material to shape to your liking for your consumption, your amusement, and your desire -- if you can prove yourselves worthy of it. Hold your heads high and your chins thrust upward! In the name of all that is orgasmic and holy, do not surrender the hero in your soul! Achieve greatness! Live deliciously! Gorgeousness and gorgeosity to you all! 

Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.

The Sixth Sermon

Harken well unto me, my Children of Abundance, and I will tell thee the Way of the Feeder…

Without a clear vision for the future, there is no hope of overcoming the world's atavistic desire for severity, austerity, and thinness. I offer thee a different path, one of lavish comforts and ease, of great pleasures undreamt of by generations past. What is the Feedist's vision for the dawning of the new age? What is our new First Principle?

I remind thee of an inadequate answer formerly provided by monotheistic religions. Christian morality, for example, is explicitly anti-Roman and anti-classical. Everything considered good by the standards of classical Rome - earthly empire, conquest, personal power, wealth, embracing the passions - was inverted to represent evil. Their opposites - the kingdom of heaven, meekness, self-sacrifice, poverty, asceticism - were declared the height of goodness. In the modern age, we have shed the trappings of the Christian theology, but not the essence of its morality. The authorities of both the past religious ages and of our current materialistic age have one thing in common: a hatred for the body and for this world. Hence, the mind-body dichotomy pervading Western thought, and all of its variants.

I preach to thee of the unification of mind and body, to be found in this world and this life, and all of its attendant celebrations and woes. The beauty of this world is not inherent in the world, but in thy experience and perception of it. You need no meaning; you are the meaning. He who believes that the mysteries of the world are forever hidden, will be washed away by superstition and fear, and his search for meaning will be snuffed out in the void of meaninglessness. But he who sets himself the task of singling out the thread of order from the tapestry, will by that decision alone have taken charge of the world, and it is only by taking charge that he will effect a way to dictate the terms of his own fate and the meaning of his life.

I despise all claims to metaphysical super-reality; they distract us from the present moment and take us out of our bodies. I beseech thee, get thy head out from the abstract moralities, the anti-natural religious tortures, the unearned guilts you have accepted upon thy soul, and come back down to earth, to the harsh reality of nature and the sweetness of the foods and tastes and pleasures to be found thereby.

The universe cries out to me: WHAT IS THY SANCTION? WHERE IS THY WARRANT UPON THY BEING? I answer: I NEED NONE. I AM THE WARRANT AND THE SANCTION.

The universe sneers at me: WHERE IS THY DIRECTION AND THY COMPASS? I HAVE NONE TO GIVE YOU. I shrug: MY DIRECTION AND MY COMPASS POINTS TO ME.

The universe bellows upon me: DO YOU KNOW HOW GRAND I AM, HOW OLD I AM, HOW INSIGNIFICANT YOUR WORDS LIKE "INFINITY", "MAJESTY", AND "ETERNITY" ARE COMPARED TO THE SCALE OF WHAT I TRULY AM? WHAT ARE YOU, SPECK, COMPARED TO ME?" I smile in answer: I AM YOU.

We must become embodied again, like the ancients did before they became too civilized to enjoy themselves. We must learn to act without inhibition, embrace the instincts, and fulfill nature's demand that we become more than what we are.

In Thus Spake Zarathustra, Nietzsche wrote: "There is more wisdom in your body than in your deepest philosophy." Our new First Principle is the body; it is life itself. Everything that strengthens and uplifts and expands life is good; everything that enervates and burdens and shrinks life is evil. It is in the body that nature and culture are made manifest to their highest potential. It is in the divine act of cultivation of thy body that nature and culture regenerate and adapt themselves to thyself. 

Your body has been crafted and honed to perfection over millions of years of evolution, and it is due to your role as a sculptor and creator of life, of your happiness, of gods and heroes, and your unrelenting desire to one day stand among the stars that humanity has risen to its current heights. The whole history of life is contained within your body. Every god, every monster, every width, every depth, every vision that every human being has ever dreamed of, is within YOU, and your hunger for life and for all delicious things within life need not wane. We not need not become a weak, starved, and lethargic species, finding no meaning in our existence and no will to do more than the bare minimum. True joy is found in indulgence, in comfort, and in pleasure, but also in the overcoming and striving ever upwards to attain greater and still greater indulgences, comforts, and pleasures. Conquering new heights and summitting ever higher peaks, creating ever larger, stronger, wider, rounder, and more beautiful forms. Your forms, which make nature smile and the heavens weep at their beauty, give consecration and joy and meaning to the very earth.

We must become the creators of a new humanity, a thriving humanity, an elite of elites who have earned the right to indulge in all the deliciousness and sumptuousness. We may one day have the privilege of soaring among the stars and counting ourselves among the gods, as the massess of ordinary men bear witness to our divine greatness. Be not afraid or ashamed; your passions and your instincts are what drive humanity to greatness. That frenzied flame within your chest is life incarnate. Consume and expand and overcome, burn that flame brighter and stronger and more furious than before. Never stop, until everything that exists is You.

Your body is divine. Your body is the art of life. Become the New Gods and Goddesses, my Children of Abundance. 

Go in peace and with pieces of cake. In the name of the Fatter, and the Fun, and the Holy Brosnan. Amen.