Reversing Darwin's Theory and Over-throwing A Tyrannous Monarchy
By Onyx-dreams
Disclaimer: I do not own Golden Sun, Nintendo, or Camelot or any of their characters.
We all wonder at the world around us; how it can be so cruel and uncaring in it's judgment of you. We also wonder at the people that live within this uncaring civilization, if it can even amount to such a term. For the world is unfair. It plays favorites amongst the strong ones, discards the smaller more intelligent ones, the more agile, for the brawns. Why must the world pick on us few? We only wish for peace and equality amongst ourselves, nothing more. But alas, the brawns have very little brains and cannot even begin to understand. Their linguistics are minimal, grammar terrible, and have a little too much pride in themselves. Such savages think they can band together to become a conquering militia. But did you know there must be unity in a militia? And that for unity all must agree upon the same thing unanimously? Brawns could not achieve such a prestigious level, for they bicker over the most minuscule things. So their militia collapses upon itself and they are left tearing at each other's throats fighting over who gets to be in charge. Unlike us smaller, intelligent, and agile ones. As the brawns with little brains rip each other to pieces, this allows us, the smaller people, to take over. It's all a matter of time before their War Committee pops at the seams so that we may live in harmony.
A/N: This story has two meanings. One is Ivan contemplating after Garet picks on him once again, and the other. . .the other relates to all us authors and a certain situation that has an annoying habit of recurring every so often. You know what I'm talking about.
By Onyx-dreams
Disclaimer: I do not own Golden Sun, Nintendo, or Camelot or any of their characters.
We all wonder at the world around us; how it can be so cruel and uncaring in it's judgment of you. We also wonder at the people that live within this uncaring civilization, if it can even amount to such a term. For the world is unfair. It plays favorites amongst the strong ones, discards the smaller more intelligent ones, the more agile, for the brawns. Why must the world pick on us few? We only wish for peace and equality amongst ourselves, nothing more. But alas, the brawns have very little brains and cannot even begin to understand. Their linguistics are minimal, grammar terrible, and have a little too much pride in themselves. Such savages think they can band together to become a conquering militia. But did you know there must be unity in a militia? And that for unity all must agree upon the same thing unanimously? Brawns could not achieve such a prestigious level, for they bicker over the most minuscule things. So their militia collapses upon itself and they are left tearing at each other's throats fighting over who gets to be in charge. Unlike us smaller, intelligent, and agile ones. As the brawns with little brains rip each other to pieces, this allows us, the smaller people, to take over. It's all a matter of time before their War Committee pops at the seams so that we may live in harmony.
A/N: This story has two meanings. One is Ivan contemplating after Garet picks on him once again, and the other. . .the other relates to all us authors and a certain situation that has an annoying habit of recurring every so often. You know what I'm talking about.