He could not be sated; all the cormorants we brought him, all the blood sacrifices wasted on him. He did nothing for us; he didn’t save the crops from drying up, not did he stop our women from rebelling against the stove and the pot. He did not save us from Boredom, our greatest adversity. All he offered was Time destroyed by collecting sacrifices for him…

And now there’s not a single cormorant left in all the Land of Z, and now he wants only the blood of herons and egrets—we purposelessly, stupidly, and un-inspiredly kill for him daily—

WILL THE REVOLUTION NEVER COME?

Until that day comes when he’ll die of boredom, all our sacred birds will be extinguished, even though we’ll have total freedom.

What then, Citizens of Z?