Satire works in a bunch of specific ways, like a very precisely-geared bomb. It's a bit like something that looks harmless, and you swallow it, but once it's inside you it's too late, and it triggers, blowing up. And it's your specific inner beliefs and faulty arguments that trigger a satire bomb. If your arguments work, the bomb doesn't trigger, it doesn't need to.

Biting enemies seems to be acceptable in a surprisingly narrow range of circumstances, or so a ninja shouted at me once

He has been positively growing tusks trying to create a breed of human insect which will continue to live on this accursed planet. Everyone needs a goal.

Dreams always end before you kill the last person.

Scientists used to do an experiment whereby a dog's repeated reward for performing a task was unaccountably replaced by punishment. The dog, knowing it would be penalized for doing well or doing badly, would become melancholic and inactive. This and other unforeseeable results were funded by taxing up to sixty percent of people's earnings. People became strangely melancholic and inactive

In books there's nothing of the fish covered in the coldness of the sea, or the feeling of a star touching space. Bad for business.

One thing you’ll say for skeletons, they’ll always give you a smile.