Medium Again

What matter shatters the scatterplot
Into more fragments than individual actions
It's all outlier
Throw it out
There are no ways left
To get from right 
To morally clear
And that's beyond evil, more than good
According to nausea
Whose measure we can take
To determine which taboos
Crab whose eyes
A scare scratch-it
Whose awkward identification
With people
Makes the anthro community
Consider that perhaps
They have wasted their time
And effort and talent