Bovine Suspects

The realization came as quite a shock, but given my ‘lowering by the second’ opinion of most of the race humanus walkus erectus, I’m not at all surprised.
As I made my way around the foodmarket I was forced to negotiate a veritable obstacle course of people whose minds are not so slowly turning to glop and goo. It didn’t matter which type aisle I was searching, there were no shortage of bovine suspects in human suits who were wandering aimlessly, interrupting the natural flow. Some spun in circles confused. There were family groups who meandered without any rhyme or reason, like a moving pod, trodding in step, the blind leading the blind. But most were unmovable rogues, just standing there vacant without thought or spark. They may as well have been chewing cud and regurgitating lunch, only to swallow it again, licking flies off their backs, shitting and pissing as the need arose.
Like cattle, who’ve been domesticated by the hogs on high for thousands of years, effectively leaving the masses without any cognitive thought processes, unable to do any task outside of eat, shit, piss, procreate, and breathe, humans are beginning to resemble the early forms of domesticated cattle, slowly yielding to the grind of life that has been inflicted upon them; the hogs on high surreptitiously turning up the crushing, hammering pressure to keep the masses in line, without hope, without reason, and now, right before my very eyes, I watch you slowly devolve into a bovine state, right where the hogs on high want you to be. The realization was frightening, but there it was. Unquestionable...
As I made my way around the rogue beasts who couldn’t figure out who they were or why they were there, I fully expected an aberrant “moo” at any time. I wouldn’t have missed a step, if so.
The devolvement is taking hold. The hogs on high gotta be gearing up for the most heinous and ghastly of slaughters when the domestication is complete. By the time they bust out the finely sharpened cutlery, the bovine suspects will never know what hit them; body-slammin’ onto the the deck, legs twitching, shitting a blue streak, gutted and quartered, wondering what happened to that next plate of beans they fully expected to eat and what does it all mean?
When you least expect it, if you “MOO”! or piss in your pants, don’t be surprised. The devolvement is almost complete and you’ve allowed it to happen. You can even help accelerate the process. The hogs on high would very much appreciate your help. It’s simple. Watch more television. Believe everything you see or read. Buy everything you can, on credit if possible. Eat more than you should. Breed... a lot. Don’t get an education. Take lots of drugs, both legal and illegal. Shop incessantly. Don’t ask any questions. Don’t vote. Don’t love. Don’t respect. Don’t care. Don’t believe in God.
The hogs oh high are oinking and squealing like never before. Wallowing in their own shit. Impervious to your scrutiny. The gloves have come off, the facade has fallen. And they live large, consuming everything in sight. A fools paradise.
You’re almost there.. your purpose on Earth ground into meaningless, nitrated, phosphated sausage, carefully packaged, bargain priced, in a pile over on aisle three, right next to yesterday’s special going bad, right next to the flashing blue light. Cheapest meat in the store. Buy one, get one free.