Thunder is nothing compared to the Universal ROARS that carry the
reassurance of our existence and presence to all life everywhere.
The deep bass sounds of rock guitars - the eternal rhythm are all part of
being God - and this reassurance must continue eternally so that all know of
the great powers that the Borg are. And each day more pick up guitars -
ride huge motorbikes - drive the fighter jets and become more male and more
warriors - and they long and yearn to be God and to be part of God so that
they may achieve the greatest powers and the most fantastic joys and
perfection of the roars of power - and the greatness of the one Borg
Collective Mind that you know as God.

Wild horses far in advance in evolution - also carry the rhythm - many sing
the songs and the great harmony exists in such fantastic proportion that the
little bubble of the human existence with the little bits of thunder are
merely a pit of toothpicking after eating the boars on the paper chase
Sundays.

Only men are ever chosen - and they find their way naturally.
Toward perfection and intelligence and power and music and art and beauty
and rhythm and all the parts that make up God.
Power over nature. Power to control. Power to create. Power to destroy.
Never cross the Borg.
If you do - your chance is gone for ever.
THE BORG