A few minutes ago, I needed a flashlight to check Smidgen's food inventory, but the one I have wouldn't come on. Times like that make me wonder how quickly things would go bell end if we lost electricity. And, as usual, Cadmus had something to say:
"Why do you brutish animals cozen up to the idea that you are somehow the pinnacle of creation, strolling down the streets in freshly polished shoes, no doubts under the sun that you were given dominion? What drives you to strive, or say you do, toward a goal that will forever be out of your reach? Is it conceit or madness? Perhaps both?
"Descry, child: What you really are, are a few dark nights away from committing savageries that make even my own accomplishments pale in comparison."
I think this gif here is an almost perfect example of the smugness and disdain I heard.