Decadence looks around, sees nothing but rotten fruit, and gathers it in sticky armfuls to distill into liqueur. It does this in an informedly fatalist manner, taking pride in its self-awareness but without the hope that such insight will provide any way forward.

Sad, young, online people talk about Marianne Williamson, about their parents, and about animals with the same pathos with which one mourns a lost childhood.

Human beings are horrible bat-monsters, flying around using sonar, hoarding rotten food in their coat pockets, scratching insults into bathroom walls, having sex with dead people etc.
What must be done?