If you strip away the illusions, the slogans, the spiritual fluff, and all the glossy distractions of society, you’re left with this: the Earth is Monster World.
You, reader, are a monster. And not in a poetic, metaphorical, or edgy way. I mean it literally. You’re a biological organism with the instinct to eat, fight if necessary, reproduce, dominate other entities, and survive—just like all the other creatures you share this planet with.
The complexity of your human mind makes you no less a monster than an ant, or a porcupine, or some brainless single-celled organism.
Dressing yourself up in clothing also does not make you any less of a monster. It simply disguises the animal beneath. Fashion, fabric, accessories—all of it is camouflage, not a transformation. Putting on a suit doesn’t make a predator less predatory. It only helps it blend in. The wolf in sheep’s clothing is still a wolf. And the human in designer clothes is still a mammal with instincts, urges, and biological drives.
You can cover your skin, but you can’t cover your nature.
Take a step back and look at the truth: honey bees are monsters. Yes, they pollinate flowers. Yes, they make honey. But disturb the hive, and you’ll be met with hundreds of venomous kamikaze strikes. That’s monstrous behavior. Ants? They enslave other ants, build empires, and tear invaders apart. Kittens? When they play fight, they are practicing how to tear out throats and rip apart other creatures. Deer will kill each other with antlers in a bloody scramble for breeding rights. Even bacteria—those microscopic beasts—are locked in constant chemical warfare.
But even the most peaceful of creatures is a monster, in that most creatures above the level of a plant are equipped with some means to defend themselves against other monsters that may want to eat them. The monsters of planet Earth also destroy life in the process of eating.
Every bite you’ve ever taken was the destruction of something that wanted to keep living. Whether it was the flesh of a beast, the leaf of a plant, or the body of a fruiting organism, your survival has always required the death of another. That is the monstrous cycle—consume or be consumed. And every creature capable of motion, perception, and reaction is locked into this same reality. It isn’t evil. It’s not broken. It just is.
But what sets some monsters apart is strategy. Some charge blindly. Others plan. You, as a monster with thought and memory, have the option to choose your tactics. And the first tactical question is: do I move, or do I stay?
Sit still, and you may avoid some monsters—but you invite others. A stationary monster must make its lair formidable. Your home must be a fortress, not a sentimental dwelling. Barriers, weapons, cameras, dogs, locks—all are rational tools in Monster World. To sleep behind weak walls is foolish. To expect mercy from intruders is suicidal. Your home is your shell, your den, your nest—it is the only place you can truly stack the odds in your favor.
But if you move, understand that you’re crossing territory claimed by other monsters. Predators, scavengers, parasites, and opportunists roam the roads. Therefore, movement must be done like a turtle in steel—slow if needed, but armored. Ride in something that can stop teeth and claws, bullets and bricks. Your vehicle is not a luxury; it is your exoskeleton. The monsters are not hypothetical. They are real. Some walk on two legs and wear clothes. Others crawl in shadows or wait behind steering wheels. You are not paranoid for knowing this.
You are simply awake.
To be awake means knowing that carrying a firearm isn’t paranoia—it’s prudence. It means locking your doors isn’t fear—it’s wisdom.
You know that since you live around other monsters with the free will, hunger or instinct to hurt you, that a house isn’t just a home, it’s a fortress against intrusion by other monsters, be they animal, bacterial, or human.
Wearing body armor, driving a reinforced vehicle, keeping a blade or gun nearby—these are not acts of extremism.
They are acts of clarity.
Once you see the world as it is—not how religion, politics, or consumer culture wants you to see it—you realize the only way to live long and well is to acknowledge Monster World and prepare accordingly. You might not control what other monsters do, but you can certainly refuse to be their easy prey.
Survival in Monster World begins with awareness. The next step is readiness. Because out there—yes, even just down the street—it’s a jungle. The laws are still the same ones that ruled the primordial soup: eat or be eaten. Don’t be sentimental about it.
Be smart.
Welcome to Monster World.
Postscript: A Note on Practical Self-Defense
For those who understand the reality of Monster World and choose not to be easy prey, I recommend Hi-Point Firearms. Based in Mansfield, Ohio—just a couple hours from my hometown of Toledo—Hi-Point offers some of the most affordable and reliable firearms available to the average working American. For under $250, a person living paycheck to paycheck can become a legally armed citizen, capable of defending their life and family against the threats that lurk in plain sight.
These aren’t luxury firearms for collectors or hobbyists. They’re tools—sturdy, simple, and effective. In a country where the cost of basic security is often out of reach for the poor, Hi-Point makes self-defense accessible. You don’t need a thousand-dollar weapon to survive. You need something that works when it counts.
In Monster World, the difference between victim and survivor often comes down to whether or not you’re prepared. Don’t be unarmed in a world full of predators. Equip yourself accordingly.
Ask your local firearms dealer for a Hi-Point.
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