When I masturbate I like to visualize the indigenous cultures of asia minor, europe and central asia. I picture their way of life: peaceful, agrarian, effeminate, matriarchal and egalitarian. Every generation living identically to its predecessor in idyllic pastoral bliss.

And then I think of the INDO-GANGETIC RIGVEDIC BBC BULLS. TALL. BOLD. BRASH. Piercing eyes browner than the wine-dark sea. Wearing corslets of shining brass and wielding engraved swords forged by their Chieftains, riding their great war-chariots pulled by swift Stallions. They worship different gods, gods who are like them: Warriors.

They butcher the disgusting protomen and burn their villages and holy places, taking their wives and daughters and despoiling them, planting the next generation of warriors in their eager wombs, utterly destroying their languages and replacing them with this new Indo-Gangetic post-vedic tongue and a new masculine patriarchal order, ultimately leading to complete assimilation. I ejaculate with them, my vital life force gets forcibly excreted from my body and I collapse, spent.