The first reincarnation as poor farmer’s boy in Punjab ended in tragedy. Born a cretin from a heavily DDT overdosed mother, the once “Great One”, with new name “Dumbface”, was pushed off a railroad bridge in 1989 by a gang of cruel village boys. Immediately he was born into a family of landlords in Goa living a charmed life educated in the finance of modern Hinduism. He was quite the studious hipster at business school, which earned him a fast-climbing position with Monsanto, and dreams of one day becoming the Lord companies’ C.F.O. However, according to basic Vedic logic this will be impossible, owing to the fact that Mr. Vishnu is an Indian, and Monsanto hates Indians literally to death.
I hate Monsanto. But I was reborn politically correct in the U.S.A. That means it is “bad form” for justice seekers to voice disdain for bad people who create things and policies that are harmful to life.
Bt cotton is not necessary for life and likewise cotton. Therefore, if just one Indian farmer cannot afford a bag of new suicide seeds in a crazy time when all of his “agriculturally correct” farmer neighbors tacitly agree to participate in their own culture’s demise, and he commits suicide by drinking a gallon of Roundup®, then Monsanto executives, lobbyists, politicians in pay, need to resign their positions immediately, or face BMW enemas administered at dawn.
Oh wait. I forgot. I live in a western industrialized oligarchy. What I meant to say was, “Live and let live Elvis says one shouldn’t judge until you walked a day in the other guy’s shoes people are all inherently good even the sinister ones who lick money like ice cream children on constant holiday”.
There. I covered my anger tracks. Now, back to work!