Connoisseurs of the Future 🦴♻️

A taste for eating meat, taken to its logical conclusion. For sure, you are asking to develop this hell-bound future.

Welcome to the year 2084. The planet is overcrowded, the soil exhausted, and insects no longer impress anyone. We ate the mealworms long ago, plankton became a luxury delicacy, and 3D meat printers stand on every corner. But human greed never quiets down. And so a new trend arrives: recycling humans.

At first, it appeared quietly. Under the banner of “green deal legislation,” human composting was permitted. “Ecological, sustainable, natural,” the ads proclaimed. Then came the dissolution of bodies into nutrient solutions for agriculture. Corn grown on your uncle? Why not—after all, they say life goes on.

But because the market never stops at fertilizer, a new product category was born: HumanoProtein™. The human body is full of nutrients—balanced proteins, valuable fats, minerals. Only one final taboo remained to be broken: that even a human being could become an item on the menu.

The first countries approved it under the guise of voluntariness: “If the deceased wishes it, why shouldn’t we make use of the body?” But other arguments soon followed: “It’s cheap! It’s local! It has zero carbon footprint!” And suddenly what was once a sacred boundary became just another business model.

Advertisements declared: “Give in to the true taste of humanity!” “Grandma fed you in life—don’t let her stop after death.” “HumanoProtein: closeness you can taste.” Critics shouted that it was cannibalism, that it marked the end of civilization. But the response was simple, “If you eat cows, chickens, and worms, why should humans be an exception?” And as it usually happens, a “gray zone” emerged here as well. Not everyone ended up on a plate voluntarily. History reminds us how execution victims, prisoners of war, or the “inconvenient” were eaten. All it took was a label—a brand, a number, a QR code. The hunt became a legal corporate contract. Someone stopped being a person and became merely “raw material for utilization.” In a HumanoProtein™ goulash, no one asks whether the meat belonged to a criminal, a dissident, or the neighbor who simply had the misfortune of yelling at me for badly parking my electric car.

And so humanity closed the circle. First we turned the world into a menu, and when nothing else was left, we turned the knife on ourselves. What began as a craving for meat ended as a civilization devouring itself. But perhaps there is a certain justice in it. Because those who believed all their lives that existence was only about calories and protein, who refused to see a soul in a cow or compassion in a chicken, eventually received the same treatment. They too became just a resource. Forget the soul, and the body becomes inventory. When life is reduced to flesh, karma writes the menu. Remember Kṛṣṇa — or prepare to eat yourself. Time is running fast.