Normally I might just share this on Facebook with a rude sentence or two, but I don’t, anymore.
Wolves can change rivers…I suppose, like butterflies can set off hurricanes? They—wolves—can change a lot of stuff once human fucktards begin to understand that they understand almost nothing, fundamentally. They are, however—humans—pretty expert at the “forensics”—imprecise and incomplete as it is. The two ought not be conflated and the ancient ought never dictate future policy or that which completely fucks up a: nature park.
Four minutes out of your precious life; roughly, what it takes to do two selfies and one checkin on some bullshit social site.
That’s not a dig on the attempt. And quite to the contrary. Knowing you’re fucking wrong—the only thing you can be truly certain about—is to me one of the greatest gifts. You are thus completely liberated to move on to the next wildass idea.
The moral of the story, though: ditch the hubris, and stop making public-fucking-policy over fucktarded ideas such that, decades later, you let nature run and marvel about it: in order to overshadow the fucktarded hubristic policy that fucked it up in the first place.