For five hundred years the spirit of discovery has blazed the trail to new frontiers. As centuries come and go, the stench of colonialism festers and I am sickened by the image of beauty torn apart (under the veil of progress). The spirit festers in their hearts of those who have carved up the Earth and built an empire upon the graves of c**tures with the labor of slaves. They teach us it's sad but deny it was (is) wrong. Explorers or invaders? Progress or genocide? It depends on who you ask and where you look because those with the guns are the ones who wrote the books. This spirit lies in the minds of the mad scientists who look toward inner and outer s***e as the next frontier and they are willing to stop at nothing to reach it. Explorers or deserters? Progress or suicide? This spirit takes us further towards false security and we still celebrate. Blind and content because "the end justifies the means" (1492 was the beginning of the end).