Great. All I've done so far is write a title for this thing and already I can tell just by the way you're all looking at me that I've made a grave mistake. It's obvious what I did wrong here—instead of spending some time brainstorming ideas and then creating a good structured outline with a clear logical path from introduction to conclusion, I simply dove right in to what is essentially a literary kiddie pool with equal parts piss and chlorine, with nothing more than a clickbait headline and a couple notebook pages full of vexatious and borderline criminal scribbles I don't really remember putting to paper. This is not a recommended method for producing high-quality digital content. I admit it; I messed up and I should be ashamed of myself. I'm better than this. I can change. I will change. Tomorrow is a new day; look to future opportunities and don't dwell on past mistakes, as they say. Alright now moving on to killing that dog.
One of the best cases against the existence of a benevolent God is quite simply the existence of a dog that won't shut up. The man sitting across the coffee shop from me right now, close enough to hear clearly but probably a bit too far away to hit with my mug once it's empty, apparently hasn't been apprised of the Dog Argument because he is speaking very confidently to his phone about how the random sample of translated ancient Eastern Mediterranean texts he is caressing represents the one and only truth in all of human history about the nature of the afterlife. "God is love" he is saying, seemingly oblivious to the fact that just outside these walls there is a single, solitary, and persistently barking dog that can be heard at any time of day on any day of the year for a solid six miles in every direction as the crow flies from the intersection of Main & Railroad in downtown Buena Vista, Colorado. There is no way a benevolent God would allow such a tragedy to self-actuate; ergo, if God exists then he is anything but love, and I'm not interested in joining him after I die to live forever in whatever hell passes for heaven in that dude's fucked up head.
Attentive readers will have realized by now that this of course raises a pressing question: If your one and only goal in life was to kill that goddamn Buena Vista dog that won't shut up, would you attempt to do so by hiring a developer to create a worthless sidechain token so you can airdrop it to thousands of people who have already concluded that you're a raving lunatic in order to convince one or maybe two of them tops that you're not a raving lunatic, and also would you pretty please go kill a dog for me? No, of course you wouldn't. That would be insane. The odds of that solution leading to a situation where the dog finally shuts up for good is about as likely as getting the complete works of Shakespeare out of that mob of theoretical monkeys before you go off and kick the bucket. Sure, technically it could happen, but you're far more likely to win the lottery, and if you win the lottery well then you can just go ahead and move to the moon already and avoid the problem of that fucking dog that won't shut up altogether.
So anyway in closing, here's the how-to that all of you deviants originally clicked in for: Incite a nuclear war. Yeah that's how. Boom, problem solved, that fucking Colorado dog that wouldn't shut up is done shut up for good now thanks to me and my unpopular opinions. Along with everything else in the state and probably most everything else in the rest of the country too. Good riddance to all of it is what I say. I suppose I'll see you all soon enough at the Great White Throne on Judgment Day but until then please enjoy the following photos from my recent trip to whichever heaven or hell it was that I went on a trip to, and maybe also go read and think about something like this before you attend your next anti-war protest. Great. I can already tell just by the way you're looking at me.
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3-4-22. The end is nigh turn to Jesus he will save you.