A need doesn’t need you. Breathing. Your heartbeat. Cells dividing. No “you” involved.
A want needed you to choose it. And you did.
Consciousness didn’t arise. It was aroused. Desire woke it up. The first want opened your eyes, and the first thing you saw was that you could die.
The right to survive. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The oldest want, armored by everything man ever built. Nobody questions it. That’s how you know it’s the one.
If the animals are the purest thing left—still running on god’s original design, no fall, no corruption—then giving the fallen thing authority over the unfallen thing is either the worst decision god ever made or god didn’t say it. Men who were already killing animals wrote that god said it was fine. The want came first. The scripture came second to justify it.
It’s the same move every time. Want something, do it, then write the permission slip after. Dominion is just the right to survive applied outward—I get to use everything beneath me because my existence matters most. The grain hoarders wrote the book, and the first thing they made sure to include was that everything alive is theirs to use.
And that one verse has done more damage than maybe any other sentence ever written because it turned every animal on earth into a resource instead of a relative.