In which I set forth the vulgar behaviour of the garden rose and ask that we reconsider our love affair with it lest we be dragged into the filth along with.

One doesn’t need to invent devils to witness the true horror of the world. One need only look in the garden to see the murder and chaos. The bleak terror of the roses’ perverse interspecies sex acts. The red light to young insect. The invitation to oblivion. And mine own heart is drawn by the flower whores. I have taken from the cup of nature and had my soul torn.

And it is science that has revealed these nightmares of the universe. The harlots! The mistresses of thorn, seducers of bee, and ruin of man. Off with her dead head!

Your humble advisor,