We're the Cheesiest!

Ah, how do we explain it to them? The Cheesedom is not built on the laws they love. Not on friendship, but on mutual interest. Not on peace, but on victory by any means. The universe is run by extinction, by extermination, by Gods TNT balls burning up a thousand Cheesedom farms , by howling Withers eating up infant mob arenas. And if life is to live, if anything is to survive through the end of all things, it will live not by the /spin but by the sword, not in a soft place but in a hard nether, not in the rotting bog of artificial paradise but in the cold hard self-verifying truth of that one ultimate arbiter, the only judge, the power that is its own metric and its own source—existence, at any cost. Strip away the lies and truces and delaying tactics they call ‘a server’ and this is what remains, this beautiful hard mode.

The fate of everything is made like this, in the collision, the test of one playstyle against another. This is how the world changes: one way meets a second way, and they discharge their bows, they exchange their words and markets, they contest and in doing so they petition each other for the right to go on being something, instead of nothing. This is the universe figuring out what it should be in the end.

And it is majestic. Majestic. It is the only thing that can be true in and of itself.

And it is what I am.