grown up toys of horror movies and chainsaws and therapy groups. is this what we grow into? aggressive cathartic adults who groom their gardens and pretend they can't locate Pakistan on a map. descendants of Swift and Blake and Shelley who no longer know how to use their words. mute idiots who pick up rocks, then guns, then maps to their own drone routes. it's just a button really. like the same one that keeps your pants hugging your muffin top. i bet you can't guess which one kills a man, though. in a psychological sense, we're prone to become human drones. monkey see, monkey do, monkey murder. in a human sense, we were never intended to do half the things we're doing. there's God and then there's man. and i'm not sure which one we think we are.