[The following piece is taken from my recent book Idiocy, Ltd.. Pick up a copy now and save yourself a world of trouble. Or send a copy to your cat-loving friends. They'll thank you in the end. If they're still talking to you.]
They’re onto me. It happened again today. Not long now and I may not even be here to warn you.
But does it really matter? How many of you are listening anyway?
Still I will give it one more try. One last shot--for humanity.
Until now I’ve usually kept my warnings polite and indirect, focusing on the relatively unimportant issue of dogs vs. cats as pets. Everyone knows the world is divided between “dog people” and “cat people”. Up to now most of my efforts have been to make cat people see reason--to help them rethink allowing felines in their homes.
“Cats are loving and intelligent companions,” they’d usually say. “Besides, they’ve got more personality than dogs.”
Uh-huh. Like mashed potatoes are a tasty alternative to duck à l’orange.
These previous, less pressing pet-related discussions usually followed a predictable course. I should maybe give some idea before I get to More Serious Things.
“Look,” I’d begin. “Let’s do a little thought experiment. You game?”
“Imagine you’re at home in your living room, about midnight, and some drugged up kid breaks in. One of those fluke break-ins from an addict in sore need of drug money. He’s got a tire iron and his plan is to smash your head in and rifle your place for cash. Now, for this experiment, I want you to imagine you have a dog as pet. Okay?”
“So--what would your dog do when the kid came at you?”
“He’d bark like mad!” the cat lover says. “He’d try to bite him.”
“I think you’re right. Definitely. Now imagine the same situation, but you’ve got a cat instead of a dog. What would your cat do when it saw the intruder coming at you with the tire iron?”
“Uhhh,” the cat lover says.
“Not sure? I’ll tell you what your cat would do. It would sense danger and dive for cover behind the sofa. No?”
“Well . . .”
“Then after the intruder had killed you and left with your cash and credit cards, after the coast was clear in other words, your cat would eventually come out from behind the sofa and check you out. And it would lick up some of the blood and check you out some more. And not long after that it would start to eat your face.”
“Hey, you’re out of line!” the cat lover usually protests at this point. “My cat loves me! I mean, if no one came to find the body, a dog would get hungry and start to eat its owner too. It would happen with a dog too!”
“You’re probably right. But the dog would wait a couple days, it would wait until it was really hungry--whereas your cat would have your face finished before 24 hours was up. Guaranteed. And in any case, this isn’t my point. My main point is that your precious cat did nothing to protect you to begin with. It watched out for its own fuzzy little ass by ducking behind the sofa. And what does that say about cats?”
“I dunno. . . . They’re smart?”
“Agent Smith is smart too. That doesn’t mean I’d choose him as a roommate.”
“Anyway, it’s not going to happen,” the cat lover concludes. “And I’m not so sure my cat wouldn’t defend me. You never know.”
“Right. Your cat just might defend you. Right.”
Sometimes I’ll raise a different scenario, in which the cat lover is in her living room with her cat, watching TV, but this time there’s a witch hovering outside the window who decides to shrink her down to six inches tall. Suddenly there she is on the sofa next to Fluffy, but now six inches tall. What would dear dear Fluffy do?
Of course I usually get the same evasive “Uhh . . .” for answer.
“Your cat that loves you would look at you for four or five seconds, a bit confused maybe, then smack you one with its right paw, then smack you again with its left, then break your spine with its jaw, and it would keep playing with you like that until dinner was finished. You doubt it?”
“My cat would never do that.”
“Give me a break. But what would a dog do in this situation? Imagine it. Really: try to imagine. The reaction would be very different. A dog seeing its owner suddenly miniaturized would start to whine in panic. Its tail would wag nervously; it would run round frantically trying to figure out what to do. In short: A dog would do pretty much what a human companion would do. That’s the gulf between dogs and cats--same as the gulf between dogs and lizards.”
Having presented these scenarios, having pointed to the other obvious disadvantages of cats (hair stuck on everything; the litter box for chrissakes!) by the end of the conversation the cat lover would still usually insist there was nothing perverse about living with cats. Instead, he or she would typically go away convinced I was a jerk for coming up with such scenarios in the first place.
That’s mental illness for you, hey? Try to help people overcome their problem and they turn on you. Is there any getting through the kitty fog that wraps their heads?
Anyhow, that was then, and this is now. Now I’m taking the gloves off. No more pet talk. No, this is about humanity as a whole, and I’ve decided to come out with the real truth about cats. Because someone has to do it, and frankly, I’m sick to death watching what’s happening. As I’ve said, I personally, again today, was almost undone by one of these vicious creatures.
I was walking in a lane near my apartment in Taipei, where I live. In recent days I’d noticed a new cat prowling the neighborhood, slinking behind parked cars, glaring at me as I headed to work. A nasty butterscotch-and-whitish little thing--what do they call them, tabby? I paid it no mind, except to glare back.
I should point out that these Taipei lanes are often abuzz with traffic, usually motorcycles and scooters. Sometimes kids fly down the lanes at a pretty good clip too, and it’s a wonder more of them don’t get killed, except that it isn’t really a wonder because a lot of them do get killed.
Anyhow, coming home from work, walking down the lane, two young women on a motorbike were flying toward me at high speed (nothing to worry about, they’d simply fly past) except that this time that same tabby street cat decided to dash out from under a parked car. Right into the line of trajectory.
So what do you think the Taipei girl driving the motorbike did, run over poor kitty? No way. She swerved straight toward me. Far better to injure a walking man than harm a street cat, no?
I leapt just in time and landed on the ground, my glasses flying from my face as the girls skidded to a stop fifteen meters away.
The girl on the back jumped off in alarm and ran to check--on the fucking cat. The girl driving gave me a non-committal sort of smile and said: “Sorry. You OK?”
“No, not really,” I answered, slowly sitting up. “First, you’re going way too fast for a lane. Second, you could have put me in the hospital. If I hadn’t dived in time, I’d now have broken bones.”
“Well, sorry. As long as you’re alright. I mean, I saw the cat but didn’t see you.”
Which of course didn’t make any sense, given my size relative to the cat. But what can you expect?
“The cat’s alright!” the other girl said, coming back breathless. It was then I noticed the Hello Kitty helmet.
“Pssh!” I said. I stood up, dusted myself off, and left them there.
Now maybe in all this you see an everyday little traffic mishap: a cat spooked by something runs into the street, a driver swerves and knocks someone down. But that’s not how I see it. No. Because this isn’t the first time this kind of thing has happened. The simple truth is that that cat tried to kill me. And it had come into my neighborhood in the first place on orders from some higher up to do just that. Yes, my little accident today was actually a case of attempted murder. And this is why I’m finally going to reveal what I know about cats. Because the truth will out. The truth must be told. Before it’s too late.
Cats are an alien species of life that has come to our planet to take it over. They are a parasitic life form that has learned to impersonate mammals so as to attach themselves to us, their hypnotized human hosts. They’re making progress in their takeover too. I believe they will soon be moving on to Stage 3. Once that happens, we won’t have a chance.
For whatever reason, cats have chosen to infiltrate us by first hypnotizing and subjugating the female half of the species. They’ve done this mainly through their supposed cuteness. Consider: It used to be that women who had trouble with men would turn to religion or volunteering or some other kind of charitable work. But look what’s happened. Community service or prayer or knitting clubs are all passé. Now most of these women just become “cat ladies”. Instead of doing things for humanity, they spend their time taking care of devil-spawn feline parasites from outer space. Is it any surprise these parasites are multiplying?
Did I mention religion? Have you noticed how cats have become objects of almost cult-like worship for these women? They’ve replaced the role previously held by Jesus, the Virgin Mary, the Buddha. It’s not a coincidence either. The cats have done it by design. They are leading us to worship them.
Did I say hypnotized? Actually that’s putting it mildly. It is now known that cats carry a brain virus called Toxoplasma gondii which they transmit to humans via contact with their excrement. Cute, huh? And think about it: contact with cat excrement is pretty much a sure thing when they’re shitting inside your house in a little sandbox, then tramping the shit-laced sand dust everywhere with those designed-to-transfer-shit-dust puffball paws they have. Shit dust on tables and chairs, shit dust on sofas and counters--all over the place. Is it any surprise people with cats become carriers of the virus, which has been linked to schizophrenia and brain cancer by the way, but which also, and this is key, has been shown to warp other mammals’ brains so as to make them attracted to the smell of cat urine.
I’m not making this up. Scientists suppose that cats and the virus evolved in symbiosis so as to draw rodents to the odor of cat piss, the virus thus offering cats a little protein perk for hosting it. And guess what, cat lover: In this equation you’re the rodent. Virally mesmerized by the smell of your evil pet’s pee, you slavishly feed and care for it day after day while it sits there glaring at you, wishing it could shrink you down to rodent size, swap you back and forth awhile, then bite off your head.
Yes, scientists say evolution explains the virus, but I think differently. Though I support evolutionary theory in general, in this instance I smell intelligent design. Alien intelligent design. Toxoplasma is in fact a high-grade bioweapon installed in the cats in pursuance of total human enslavement at the hands (or: paws) of these stinking pseudo-mammals and their alien overlords.
An estimated sixty million Americans currently carry the Toxoplasma virus. House cats should be outlawed. Period. I’m thinking industrial-sized burlap bags with bricks. Or the way we deal with cattle that have mad cow disease. But instead of sane public policy, what do we get? A worldwide onslaught of pro-feline propaganda. You have to wonder why.
Do I even have to mention the Hello Kitty brand again? It’s perverted the minds of tens of millions of young girls globally, many soon becoming office women who tote Kitty cell phones or key chains, then soon after that--you guessed it--turn into full-on cat ladies.
I can still remember the shudder I felt arriving in Asia back in the ‘90s when I saw how saturated the culture had become with this mouthless little white vermin, the Kitty icon. At the time I didn’t understand then what was behind my shudder. Now I do. I was experiencing a premonition of the slow infiltration that was just then entering a new stage.
Two decades on, Kitty has infiltrated the West too. In the States I see Kitty girls all over and cat ladies popping up on every corner. Start with Avril Lavigne and work your way out from there.
Here north of Taipei in the park where I go for a smoke break from work there’s a dotty-looking cat lady who walks round every evening putting down little plastic bowls of Friskies for the strays. They wait for her under parked cars and glare at me with their alien eyes as I smoke my mini cigars. They know me. They know I’m onto them.
But as for the old homeless woman missing one arm who hangs out on the other side of the park--does the cat lady ever bring something for her? Never. I chat with the woman and put change in her bowl a few times a week. Meanwhile the cat lady feeds these alien parasites, helping ensure the next generation.
I watch her as she makes her rounds, a distracted air about her, a nervous twitch on her face, her brain eaten away by the virus.
When is the world going to wake up? How obvious does it have to get? It’s gotten to the point that these invading felines have even begun hardwiring humans to work for them.
Did I say humans? Maybe I should say fakes, androids.
Years ago I read The Facebook Effect, David Kirkpatrick’s book on the conception and founding of the world’s monopoly social network. Kirkpatrick focused on the initial strategies behind Facebook’s advance and the brilliance Mark Zuckerberg showed every step of the way, overcoming obstacle after obstacle, foreseeing problems months before they came up. It was an amazing story, and before I’d finished the book, as I was reading in a local cafe one day, it suddenly dawned on me: “This Zuckerberg guy isn’t actually human.”
And he isn’t.
Mark Zuckerberg is an alien plant. He’s an android. He was put here by the cats. Skim Facebook news feeds and you’ll see what it’s all about. Photos of cats, cats used as profile pictures, endless feeds of YouTube cat videos showing the skills and “cuteness” of these “animals”: a nonstop visual atrocity.
As a psy-op, Facebook sure was genius. You gotta hand it to these despicable aliens. “Zuckerberg”, that supposed smart Jewish kid from White Plains, New York, created a portal through which the cats could invade ever more of our human consciousness. People are now using cat faces as their own profile pictures. Can you beat that for propaganda? People identifying themselves with the aliens that will soon enslave them.
And I haven’t even mentioned Japanese manga yet. That nightmarish barrage of cat-faced melon-breasted girls is enough to make any sane man cringe. And most Western men do cringe. But the genre has infiltrated the Asian psyche to the point that young Asian men actually dream of bedding hominoid felines. I know this because I’ve been told. And human women have begun to spend their real salaries altering their eyes and cheeks to look more catlike.
With all this going on, how long can it be before they make their move--before they reach out their paws for TOTAL CONTROL? Perhaps there won’t even be a coup; perhaps they’ll slowly achieve ascendancy without us even noticing. It will be a silent takeover, not a whimper of protest. One fine day most of the planet will wake up and realize they’ve been reduced to sweat-shop conditions, working in huge cat toy factories or grinding up lobster and fish carcasses to fill truckload after truckload with cans of Friskies Captain’s Platter. Meanwhile the cats will be feeding us intravenously. We’ll be chained body and soul to the fishy grindstone of their pussy utopia.
That last line didn’t come out right. Anyhow, then will come the physical change, Stage 4, when the cats shape-shift to reveal their true appearance. Some fellow researchers in this area (I’m not the only human to realize what’s going on) have managed to get images of what this next stage of cat will look like. Believe me, it isn’t pretty.
Of course I realize some of you may be skeptical about my claims. You may have doubts that cats are actually an alien species sent here to enslave humanity. You may suspect that I personally just don’t like cats and am making all this up because I’m allergic to cats and my grandma’s cat scratched me up bad when I was four and I still haven’t forgiven the whole species. But I’ve a few more facts to present to you that I think will cinch the deal.
First, when I say that cats are here to reduce us to groveling submission I am referring to house cats only. I have nothing against the larger cats: lions, tigers, panthers, cheetahs, cougars--these all can be fine animals, especially the latter. No, it’s only the small cats, those that pose no apparent threat to humans, that I’m writing against.
Because if you research the history of these small cats, you will find something very strange. Paleozoologists actually have trouble explaining it.
Consider: Cats were first domesticated in Egypt around the time the pyramids were built. It is in Egypt we first find cat bones buried in ways that indicate they were pets. But interestingly, these cats are of a type and species that can’t be found anywhere else in the zoological record. So there is so far no evidence of any similar-sized wild species of cat that the Egyptians domesticated. In other words: The record shows that this species first showed up in Pharaonic Egypt as human pets: it didn’t even exist until it was already living in Egyptian households.
How is that possible? It’s nothing like the case with dogs or other animals, whose domestication can easily be traced from wild forebears. What does it even mean?
I will tell you.
House cats are an artificial species. They are fake animals. They were genetically engineered precisely to be taken in by us as pets. The alien intelligence that engineered them used wild cats as a rough model (they wanted to create a convincing mammal) but made the soon-to-be-domestic cats smaller and more deviously intelligent. The Egyptians fell for the alien bait: they took the creatures in as pets, and the demented practice of keeping house cats spread from there around the world.
In my mind it’s no surprise the Egyptians were the first to host this parasite. As noted archeologists like Erich van Däniken and Zecharia Sitchin (the former nominated for the Nobel Prize, but he didn’t get it because of the machinations of Swedish cat lovers) have pointed out, there is convincing evidence the Egyptians, in their technological advancement and in the construction of the pyramids, were using techniques taught them by aliens. It is likely that, like the Nazca lines in Peru, the pyramids were important markers of some kind for alien landing strips. One can imagine all kinds of hyperintelligent, villainous cat creatures flying UFOs, landing in the Egyptian desert and meeting with the Pharaoh to tell him what to do to prepare the landing strips for their eventual return. Which, in my calculations, will occur in 2024. And the Pharaoh, what can he do, he is just like “Okay, whatever you cats say.”
Cue History Channel.
Look I know there’s a lot of info here and maybe you’re having trouble digesting it. But the point is--something MUST be done about these fucking cats before it’s too late. And it’s maybe to late already. Because the cats are already among us and they’re making swift progress.
I’m just trying to get the warning out here. The truth is I should have done it long ago. If you are not intimidated by the feline forces that are likely watching, you might help me in spreading this warning as far and wide as possible. Before it’s too late.
This and 42 other important public service announcements can be found in my new book Idiocy, Ltd. Never say I didn't warn you.