Your Creative Output

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Each individual is a species unto itself.

What do humans produce that anyone else would want? Despite what we’re told in The Matrix, I doubt we’re coppertop batteries keeping our machine overlords in power. Regardless of what some New Agers might suggest, I doubt our love is being used to keep a fleet of angels on the wing. We’re not slaving in the lithium mines of some prison planet or having the output of our pineal glands harvested by some alien assholes, so what do we have that anyone could want? Who gets anything from us? What’s the point of all this?

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