A moving banana — the pinnacle of human achievement. What feeling does it bestow upon thee? The complexity of the case, spurred on by centuries of research. Men and women have died in the quest for divinity. Now, humanity shall play God. Words can not describe the emotions of the process, and yet! All of the romantic languages are defeated by the image... that of a wiggly fruit. Is it possible that, if the human race is wiped, our legacy to future civiliations will be written as "made wiggling fruits"?
In conclusion, I need sleep.
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