Don't underestimate me, fool. If a single sword-stroke can make a man king, a single word can break a heart, a single ember burn down an entire town, a single pebble start an avalanche, a single day alter the course of history forever, don't doubt -- even for a second-- that a single meme can't make me the dankest of them all. The man doth not make the meme, the meme maketh the man; if one makes a thousand memes with one like apiece, the memes make him nothing more than a fool, a shitposter. But if he makes one meme with a thousand likes, that makes him far more than just a man; he shall be a literal god among shitposters. 'Tis a sad day for memes, when you live in an age where everyone thinks about points, views, upvotes, leaderboards, when dankness is the only true measure of a meme's value. Once, memes were something special, something the heart cherished, because through the meme, the reader could see into its creator's very soul. They were crafted meticulously, with care and art, brought to fruition only through deliberate patience and thought. But now, memes are like war, a game of numbers and ranks, where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, as tycoons continue to feed this primitive and backwards system. But I digress... You just keep sitting up there on your leaderboard, smugly clutching your phony crown. All it takes is one meme, one talisman of unequivocal dankness, and soon enough, "memelords" like yourself will be nothing to me, and it will only be a matter of time before you can no longer hide behind your pitiful points, and will be forced to come crawling back to me, begging that I forgive you for your insolence. But go ahead, keep playing your wretched game, and see just how long it will last you.
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