City Paper is not for tourists
“Deer me, deer me, what are we going to do about this awful problem?” the humans say, wringing their hands (“Deer Diary,” 4/12). There are just too many deer! They’re getting in our way—in our gardens, which we must tend without enclosures because we are the God-chosen Masters of the Earth; on our golf courses, which we must keep expansive and chemical-drenched and satiated with water so that they remain lush and luxuriant through times of drought so that we may play a game upon them; on our roadways, which God Himself hath commanded us to build so that we may go faster than the cheetah.
How dare the deer, at 60 to a square mile, threaten the habitat of Washington humanity, at 7,522 to a square mile!
Thank God Almighty there are men among us like Rick Wilson—real men who know that if you weren’t born human, you don’t deserve to live. As for the rest of us, our only hope is to swell our population to the trillions. Then, and only then, can we truly say there is no room on this planet for any animal but Man. Be fruitful and multiply! Death to all who do not look like us! God be praised!