A rare picture of Numbuh 4 the way I want him.

I got my first girl-boner thanks to Numbuh 4. I know what you’re thinking. “Why, Shaqueefah? Numbah 4’s Australian!” And I know that Australians aren’t that sexy most of the time. But Numbah 4 was different. Numbuh 4 wasn’t like other Australians. Numbuh 4 had giant feet. Before I knew the word, he gave me a foot fetish. He made me wish I wasn’t human and foot fungus instead, so I could rest inside feet for the rest of my life. Course, those were the old days, and Shaqueefah’s faced reality. She can’t witness feet like that in real life, or even snuggle beside them. Shaqueefah was lied to, but I don’t care. I’m forever gonna cherish that sexual release Mister Wallabee Beatles gave me. No white man has ever matched what he could do. No sir.

Operation C.A.K.E.D. – I really liked the Delightful Children From Down the Lane. They reminded of those kids at school who didn’t talk or do anything while people picked on them. I wished I could be one of them, but the guidance counselor told me not to taunt the disabled. If “taunting the disabled” is the new word for friendship, then I’ll taunt the disabled all goddamn day thanks to the Delightful Children. I’ll go Big Badolescence on those bitches if they dare stop me from having my way with special children.

Operation: I-S.C.R.E.A.M. – I hated this episode because it made me wanna eat ice cream, and my mom told me she didn’t have ice cream, so I held my breath until I got ice cream, but all I got was a seizure and a visit to the hospital. The monster looked cool.

Operation: C.A.N.N.O.N. – I loved this episode because Numbuh 4 got to be the leader. He got to show that bitch Numbuh 5 who the real boss was in this treehouse. I don’t really remember anything else, like what the cannon was for, but I still loved it.

Operation: N.O.-P.O.W.U.H. – I don’t remember this episode. I think it had something to do with hamsters.

Operation: T.E.E.T.H. – Uh.

Operation: P.I.R.A.T.E. – Um?

Operation: C.O.W.G.I.R.L. – The old lady reminded me of my grandma, who thinks my name is Terrance.

Operation: T.U.R.N.I.P. – I don’t like turnips because they look like albino nipples.

Operation: M.I.N.I.-G.O.L.F. – Can this be over now? I wanna go listen to some Lorde instead of write this.

Operation: O.F.F.I.C.E. – I mean it, when will this be over? But this was a Numbuh 4 episode, so it made me moist.

Operation: A.R.C.T.I.C. – This also made me want ice cream, but my mom told me to stop asking stupid questions. Then she cried.

Operation: L.I.C.E. – I had lice once, so I gave it to my best friend. He died.

Operation: L.I.Z.Z.I.E. – I don’t remember this many episodes. Please help.

Operation: T.H.E.-F.L.Y. – Nobody talked, so I didn’t know what was going on. And Numbuh 5 saved the day, so that extra sucked. I don’t like Numbuh 5, because she reminds me of that gay kid from Catcher in the Rye.

Operation: P.O.I.N.T. –

Operation: C.A.B.L.E.-T.V. – Mr. B sounds like a sexual maneuver.

Operation: C.A.M.P. – I remember the baby skunk got turned into a cyborg in another episode, so I think there was animal cruelty. TW: animal cruelty.

Operation: T.O.M.M.Y. – I wanna go back to sleep.

Operation: C.H.A.D. – Please help.

Operation: P.I.A.N.O. – I don’t like that they replaced Numbuh 4 with a hamster. Hamsters aren’t as sexy. They’re only kind of sexy. Like a 6. Maybe a 7 if they were cute.

Operation: Z.O.O. – I don’t like zoos. A giraffe once imprinted on me and claimed me as its sex slave. In some ways, I still am.

Operation: Q.U.I.E.T. – I wish it was quiet here. I’m going to leave for a bit so I can hit my baby sister.

Operation: R.A.I.N.B.O.W.S. – Rainbows remind me of that one time I went to a rainbow-colored book store because my mom made me, but all the books they sold had pictures of ding-a-lings and naked men hugging each other. My mom made me leave after she saw an Archie comic on the shelf.

Operation: G.R.O.W.-U.P. – Mom keeps telling me to get a real job instead of watch Kids Next Door over and over again, but fuck her.

So if I had to say which was my favorite episode, I think it was the one with Numbuh 4 showing his bare feet. That was neat. Now if you liked my article, please like and subscribe and donate to my patreon. It’s so I can lie to my mom and say I have a real job. She keeps wondering what kind of job pays 17 cents a month, but I just tell her my manager is Chinese, and it all calms down. It’s all good with Shaqueefah.



Thank you for purchasing a copy of my latest academic text, Who Is Imouto? – A Critical Analysis. This is an expanded and refined version of my college dissertation, Imouto: The Who, What, When, Where, Why, And How. As you are probably well aware, I graduated with high honors from the University of Texas of the Permian Basin, and am a verified expert in the field of Imoutology. This thesis is the product of more than a year’s hard work and research, leaving no metaphorical stone unturned and no literal fact unprocessed. In essence, this is the most comprehensive analysis you will ever read about the long-debated question of who is imouto.

Dr. Thaddeus Fogglestein
PhD in Imoutology


Who is imouto? Who can truly call themselves imouto? Before we may answer these burning questions, first we must examine what, exactly, is imouto. As with most things in life, the initial step toward understanding imouto is to define “imouto.” Japanese for “little sister,” the dictionary says – but is it something more? Myself and many other scholars have theorized that imouto may actually be more of an abstract concept; a state of mind, if you will. Due to the ever-rising prominence of Japanimation in modern culture, never before has this topic been more pertinent than in the Year of Our Lord 2015. It is a subject ripe for discussion by the well-read and literary-minded among us, its true nature elusive even to this day. Only society’s wisest intellectuals could even hope to derive meaning from such an enigma… until now.

Chapter I: A Vibrant History

The concept of imouto can be first traced back to the cave scrawlings of one “Kenichi Masashiro” in 451 BC. Scratched into the stone wall of his natural abode, noted archaeologist Nobuko Kurahara discovered rough sketches of a repugnant, overweight man receiving fellatio from a buxom female with the kanji for “goddess” carved into her face. Next to it could be found the earliest known concept drawings of Doritos, a flowchart detailing the timeline for Masashiro’s proposed superhero drama, and – most importantly – the first recorded usage of the word “imouto.” Utilizing only the finest in next generation radiological dating methods, scientists worked around the clock to discover whether or not this new lead was genuine; after weeks of careful research, it was proven to be so.

Knowledge of imouto’s origins darkens until an unconfirmed date during the Sengoku Period, in which one of Oda Nobunaga’s scribes began to write erotic fiction about his daimyo. In the most famous of these literary works, Nobunaga’s Ambition (to Fuck His Sister), the popular warlord was depicted as a thoughtful but lecherous schoolchild intent on deflowering his “beautiful” and “nubile, yet innocent” younger sister. The word “imouto” pops up frequently throughout the text, indicating a sexual connotation. No one knows what, exactly, happened to the anonymous author of this story after he suddenly ceased writing Nobunaga smut two years later. It is widely believed that he was slowly vivisected and later had his skull turned into a fruit bowl, but the lack of concrete evidence renders these claims insubstantial at best.

After the end of World War II, the world was split into two — east and west. However, North American soldiers decided to remain in Japan for reasons undisclosed until recently, when the Illuminati finally revealed the truth behind the whole thing: invaders from Mars. Indeed, aliens from another planet – no longer content to pursue their obsession with viewing the conflicts of mankind through an observer’s lens – orchestrated the attack on Pearl Harbor via mind control rays (able to pierce any known material except pure, unfiltered aluminum). The governments of both Japan and the United States were desperate to learn more about these evil tentacled aberrations – whose corrupting influence still lingers within many an artistic mind to this day – and thus they jointly created the top secret military project, Investigate Mars Outside Usual Treaty Observation, or I.M.O.U.T.O. This granted federal agents and select soldiers diplomatic immunity from any sort of legal repercussions, allowing them to freely torture and murder anyone deemed suspicious of potentially being a space alien in disguise.

Chapter II: Misconceptions And Conjecture

Imouto is a concept pervasive in nature, dominating entire aspects of modern otaku society by way of Chinese girl dolls and the ever-popular dakimakura. It has also become a veritable genre of literary fiction in its own right. Some have theorized that this is proof of cultural decline and the world’s growing insanity; however, these simpleton “scholars” would be incorrect in thinking that nuking it into the sun and causing said sun to explode would be a good idea. Such thinking is close-minded, traditionalist hogwash. They fail to take into account that incest is not only invulnerable to exploding suns, but also base morality and standards. The world needs imouto, but imouto does not need the world. Imouto is eternal, and will forever feed on the insecurities present within our hearts and minds until the entire human race is awash with feelings of doki doki for their younger sisters.

Many conservative pundits have claimed that incest is “immoral” and causes “birth defects.” Anyone who has ever visited the American South will know that this is nothing more than plebeian pablum — an attempt by the old guard to prevent our spiritual enlightenment and advancement as a species. Indeed, love shared between a person and their imouto is by far the purest feeling one human being can have for another. It has always been said that we, as a species, can learn many of the most important things in life from paying attention to our siblings; why, then, does this wisdom exclude such concepts as “seductive kissing techniques” and “properly performing cunnilingus?” This has long boggled my Foggle mind, from the days immemorial since I was first blessed with cogent thought until now.

And that is truly the question we all must stop and ask ourselves: “why?” Every argument against imouto can be deconstructed thusly. Imouto is a God-given right pertinent to all men, women, and probably some other miscellaneous mammals on this Earth. Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that to be against imouto is to be against God, and to be against God is akin to being against spicy Korean BBQ. Just as one cannot deny the enriching flavor of succulent bulgogi grilled to perfection and served with at least 10 different side dishes that most white people won’t eat more than a couple bites of because they do not understand what manners are, one cannot deny the existence of God because it is God’s will that we cannot prove He exists. (Checkmate, atheists.) With these facts taken into consideration, the only conclusion one can realistically draw is that imouto is an unstoppable force the likes of which our world simply cannot exist without.

Chapter III: The Onii-Chan Conundrum

Figure 3.1

Figure 3.1 shows us that to achieve the status of imouto, one must first have access to an onii-chan. (Figure 3.2 would show onii-tan, the #1 fan of imouto, but he has unfortunately damned any photographers we’ve sent to the seventh level.) Notice how the female protagonist of Boilerplate Incest Harem Anime #257 – often shortened to OniAi by people who do not understand how acronyms work – wishes to marry and eventually copulate with her older brother. This is cute, because the character in question is “moe” (pr. moh-ey), a word frequently used by people who have no idea what it means to disparage art they don’t like. Even after 72 sleepless hours of intensive research, I’m still not sure what it means myself, so let’s just move on to the next paragraph.

The onii-chan is a very important aspect of imouto’s inner workings and must be examined in depth if one wishes to fully grasp what it means to truly achieve imoutual enlightenment. Onii-chan, I have long theorized, is much like imouto, in that it is more of a state of mind than a true aspect of one’s being. For instance, many Japanese cartoons feature completely legal, of age, sexually available women who only happen to look like they’re 10 years old referring to slightly older men as “onii-chan” in spite of not being related to them by blood. Recent studies have also proven that it is factually possible to be both someone’s uncle and grandpa simultaneously, and as a man of science who got at least two B’s on high school chemistry term papers, I dare not question findings pertaining to the notably infallible field of modern biology.

Whereas imouto is the long-standing psychological and philosophical ideal for all female members of the homo genus (side observation: if every human was the exact same, it would be a homogenous homo genus), onii-chan is classically the standard toward which all male specimens should strive. Onii-chan is perfect. Onii-chan makes the impossible possible. Onii-chan tastes delicious and his organs grow back when you eat them. Our world is currently dying a slow and painful death, and depending on who you ask it’s either due to global warming or political correctness going too far. Regardless of your politics, I believe we can all objectively agree that there is but one solution: the human race’s ascension to the status of onii-chan is necessary for the species’ continued survival. Note to all male readers: I will show you how you too can naturally turn yourself into a real, homegrown, organic onii-chan in just 7 easy steps with my upcoming self-help video series, Oni to Onii: Everything You O-Need to Achieve Your Doki Doki Dreams. It will be available for purchase in 4 quick installments of $25 within the coming months.

Chapter IV: The Money Of Imouto And Possibility Control

I’m a little pimp with my hair gassed back
Pair-a khaki pants with my shoes shined black
Got a little lady who walk that street
Tellin all the boys that she can’t be beat
Twenty dollar bill, I can set you straight
Meet me on the corner boy and don’t be late
Man in a suit with a bow-tie neck
Wanna buy a grunt with a third party check

— Frank Zappa

These are wise words from a wise man. As they say, pimping ain’t easy, but it is a similar concept to manufacturing imouto-based fiction. While only a select few members of the human race will ever truly be able to achieve the coveted status of imouto or onii-chan (though you can most definitely attain the latter by purchasing all of Oni to Onii: Everything You O-Need to Achieve Your Doki Doki Dreams once it’s done), this does not stop Japan’s well-respected animators who work 14 hours a day for a salary of 100 yen per hour from crafting fantastical creative works that prominently feature people who have reached such enlightenment. In today’s light novel market, this is a prominent genre of literature, and it simply must be an excellent one, since nearly every entry into it is practically indistinguishable from its contemporaries.

He who controls the imouto market can be seen as the top dog in the thriving pseudo-pornographic incest romance industry, much like how the pimp with the hoes who look least dead inside can lock down and corner the, well, corner. Whomsoever creates the cutest, sweetest, sexiest, loliest imouto concoction of their time will have temporarily reached as close to perfection as possible, ensuring record sales that will fill even the largest of bathtubs with 10,000 yen bills. The greatest imoutos can then be immediately transformed into prostitutes of infinite proportions, selling everything from figures to body pillows to fleshlights to adorable bibs for the kids. Imouto is not only a state of mind, it is also a highly sought-after commodity, crossing cultural borders and laying the groundwork for a veritable billion dollar industry.

While a proper onii-chan understands that imouto is a force to be reckoned with and never taken lightly, many lesser specimens of our shared genus can easily become addicted to imouto — an unfortunate fact that is exploited consistently by corporations sporting a poisonous drug dealer mentality. The uninitiated take this to mean that imouto is corrupting our society, but in actuality it is our society that is corrupting imouto. This war on imouto by ignorant westerners is unethical and must be ceased before the innocent or easily corruptible among us are affected by federally perpetrated violence. Imagine, if you will, a SWAT team busting down your front door at 4am, demanding that you hand over any and all imouto-related merchandise. This is already a reality for many upstanding citizens, and you could soon be a victim of the same persecution if action is not taken immediately.

Chapter V: A Future Tinged With Inbreeding

When it’s all said and done, there is a simple, obvious solution to the quagmire of our society not having enough imoutos (and onii-chans): artificial imoutos can be created through incestual reproduction. While this is an inferior method of imouto creation and will often not produce the desired results, it is the only way our species can realistically evolve further without further diluting the gene pool with impurities. Imouto is flawless. Imouto must be loved, respected, and feared. Imouto is our salvation, the true savior of our people from evil and sin. Once we have all achieved the status of true imouto and/or onii-chan, the Earth will be salted and our world purified.

Daisukigeddon is coming. I have seen visions of it in my dreams: a swathe of fire that cleanses the land of all things not sufficiently kawaii, leaving the world in an exquisite state of perfection. Know that when the time comes, if you wish to survive the purge,

D͖͔͍͚̖͎̝̫̩̩̳́̍ͮ̽̾ͧ͗͊͛ͤ̍̇̄ͣ͊̚̚Ő̠̜̖̫̘̜̻̖̻͖͙̺̩̀͒͒̒̈́̓ͯ̂ͧ͒̔ ̱͕̝̼͔̰͓̯̺̜̭̜̈́̐̀̉͒ͅN̠̫̭͍̮͍̘̣̘̉͒̑ͨO̖̭̮͇̹̳̙͎̠̟̘̳̫̜͕̯̣̬͐̿̐T̝̙̬̠̯̙̼̩͍̤̗̪̳̥ͭ͑̿̉̉̆ͬͅ ̘̝͎̮̱̒̆ͥ̆ͧͦ̾̃D̤̮̟̗̻̹͕̘͍̥̼̰̹̞̟̣̩͚͚ͩͣ͐̌͆́E̫̦͉͙̭̞̬̤̙̱̠̬͇̫̝̼̟̥͚͗̈̃ͮ̋ͫ͆̿F̹̦̥̗ͪ͆̍ͦY̥͙̗̜̺͈̤ͮͥͤ̌ ̫̳̗̖̯̺͇͔̯̹̭̹̩͎ͬ͗̉͒ͤ̿̊̌̔ͅY̲̭̘͕̱̟̻̼̳ͫ̊̅͊ͪ̉̄̈́ͬͧ̆̋̇̈͑̚O̥̟̩̺̼̥̝̰͚̽̅̄̀̎̎ͤ̇̌ͯ̍U̹̳̝͔͔̗̲͖̗̔ͯ͂ͥͦͪͩͬͧͧ͐͗Ŕ̝͖̮͚̫͈̰̹̮̠̲͇̪͆ͦ̆ͩ́̒̊̀̌̄ͧ ̭̞̥͚̱̘̰̹̖͉̠̣̮͆͐ͫ̍̍ͮͯN̩̜̮̯̺̳̪͇̖̮͍͑̋̈ͣ̄̐̇͆̏̏ͅE̲̜͙̺͇̙̿ͭ͐̒̌̇̆̆̾͆͊́̿̇̔͆̍ͣͅW̖̞̹͎̤̪̟͔̪̞̪̱͎̺̫̹͇̃̂͛͊͊̐̂̓͒̍̊͑̈́̅̀͗ͅ ̠̫̭̯̪ͯ̇ͨK̲͇̬̻̟̦͉͙̊ͤͬ̈ͭ̌ͧ̿͒ͮ͊͑̾I̱̯͉͔̣̼̞̖̩̯̟͈͎̠̽̈͂͒̿ͬ͊̌̚̚ͅͅͅM̮̱͓̬̩͎͈̬̬ͯ͋ͪ̐͒ͤ̍͋̓̊͆̂͆Ȍ̹̬̦̣̞̥̖̱͖̇̆ͤ͒͛͛̇̍ͅC͓̭̻̘̻̙̥͉̙ͫͮ͒̄ͪH͇͈̠̭̟͇͎̻̫̩̰̲͔̪ͩ̎̑ͦ̿͒̋ͮ̉͌ͧ͗̄̈́͋I̥̟͚̘̗̼̱͍̝̥̬̦̜͇̟̮̲͓ͮͮ̀͂͒͆̀ ̪͉̳̖̰͌ͣͮ̍͗ͩͨ̏̚I̮̼̮̼͚̹͎̼͈̮̘̻̤̪̬͖̱͉̋ͤ͒̎͂̇̽̈́͋ͬ̅̅ͭͦͦ̾I͕̟̫͓̤̭̭̮̗̖̳͖̟̼̙̣̣̖ͥͤ̑̄̎̓ ̥̦͔̬̹͕͚̜̝̯͎̭͈̈̓ͭ̅͛ͅO͎̣͕͚̠͂̎̍̓̔ͯ̍͊ͮṼ̜̳̺̲̭͇̑̒̌̉ͥ̓ͣ͛̒̎̋̉̇̈́E̬̰̹̩̼̙̳̰̫̠̖̒̈͑̋͆R̙̖̟̝͍͙͚̰͉̼̳̱̟͔̼̤̙̩̝ͨ̆̎̄ͮ̐͒͑ͫ̐̌ͥ̂͗͒ͬͣ̚Ĺ̘̭͖̟͍͍͕̯̪̥̜̦̫̫̤͓̘͇̺̈͑̔̃ͨͯ͂ͩ̏̄̋ͤ̇̋͛̚O̱͍̗̝͚͔͇̙̫͕̮̻̥ͤ̇͊͂͌ͅͅR̫̫̬̝̞̘̦̞̺̅̆͌̉̌̈ͅD̤̣̗̮̮̫̹͓̞̔̒ͣͬͬͨ̓͒̅̾S͔̖͎̙̙͎̩͓̳̦͙̖͕ͬͧͤͯ̇ͦͮͨ͆̋̆ͫ̚ͅ
̝͉̥̰͉̪͓̙̝̱̲̬͖̓ͯͬ̓̾̄̍͛̿ͦͧ̿̈̓̓ͭͧ̂̔L͇͕̼̰̲͖̭̺͍̍ͣ̃̒ͧ̃̓̒͗̐̚E͕̙̺̠̘̳̭͇̔́͗̊ͫ̎ͮ̂͗̽T͚̬̱̠̤̦̙͚̠̺̙͖̭̗̊ͤ̏̽ͫ͆͗̓̆ͦ̒ͫ͊̐̊́͂̓̓ ̟̮̙̬̗̳̪̻͚̹̝͕ͣ̏͊ͤ̋̓ͦͧ͑͌͆̏ͫ͋̎̆̅͊̑Y̰̩̲͙̗̝̳̳̤̼̼̭̹̼̖̣̥̐ͥ̔ͩ̎ͩ̍͆̍̾ͦ̈͌̚ͅO̭̗͎̫̖͔̪͉͔̗̯̦̘͚̰̳ͯͦ̋͌ͩͣ͋Ũ͍̪̩̥͎̬̺̰͆̊̐͋̓ͧͯR͕͈͎̟̤̮̼͔̣̯̻͖͓͂͐̈́̓ͫ͗ͥ̆͛ͅ ̙̦̗̤̼̳̇̏ͨͣͤͪ̐̂ͣͤͫ̉̇͋̒͊̚H̞͇̬̮̩̭͔͑̃͑͛ͬ̋ͭ͂̌ͪ͛̋̎ͭ̀ͤE͖̟͚̝͓̠̻̝̣̮͋͗ͤ̌̔̓͆ͦ͒ͅÁ̰̬͎̖̦̺͔̄́͌͑̇̂͋̉ͨ͐̄R̻͈̦̭̙͍̬͔̥͇̲̞͍̾̄̿̀̀ͫ͆ͯͬ̒ͭ̀̽̃̽͆ͯͯͅT̪̫̬̰̝̖͎̯̝͕͍͕̄͆̊͐̅͛ͫ͊ͨ̋ͭͫͧ͒̽ ̙̹͙̗͚̥̗̱̯̹̟ͬ̎ͭͧ͑́̽͐̏̌̌̽ͧ̆̈ͭͩE̥̺͇̪̽̎ͬ̈̇̈́ͣ̍ͧ͐͛́̓͌̇M͚̞̙͇̖̬̹͕̗̼̺̯͇͕̘͕̮ͤ̐ͪ̉͆̈́̾̆̅̉͗Ḅ̠̭̰̤̳͈̗̤͔̞͍͙̤̻̬̭̲̥̎̆ͬ̀ͭ̾ͩ͆͒̄̂͗͗̄̎͋͂ͮͭR̫̞̼̖̬̉̽̋̎ͭͫ́͊ͣ̐ͮA͙̤̺̼̭͚̺̣̗̣͚͎̠̐ͮ̅͛̅ͧ̿ͬ̈́̚C̳̯̲̣̲͔͓̯͖̯̩̀ͨ͒ͫͪ̊̔ͨ̈́̓̋̍̓ͩͬ̅̀̈̚E̖̖̼̺̦̮̋̋ͭͥ͌͛ͪ́̍ͧ̅́̇͐̊͛͗̊ͫ ͍̱͚̠͆͆̓̈́̆̐͗̍̀ͭͩ̐ͥ̀̉ͅT͈̪̮̦̪͈̘͚̑ͥ̐̉̀̀ͣ̇ͪͣ̽̄H̲̘̖̺̖̘̯̻̺̲̯̦̗̟ͪͥ̂͐̈́̅ͪͅE̘͙̗̥̭̞͔̣̳͇̳͓̼͙̠̦̬͈͊ͥͦ̒̋̏ͣ͋̌ͭ̂ͬͫ͌̐̎̒͛̚ ̳̘̞̞̗̗͇͇̘̳̯̃̍̎͛͑̀̿̅̌ͯ͋ͮ̃́ͭ͂Ḋ͈̦͙̙͇̱̬̞̬͍͈̣̩̎̑͂̎̋̉̈ͮ̿O̘̘̹̹̟͋ͯ̓ͯ̀͐͑ͭ̀ͥͬͪ̃ͥ̔K̥̼̩̯͔͈̜̾̓̾̊͐̄ͦͦ̍͐̄I͉̥̫͓̠̞̠̣̰̬͉͔̎̏͂̊̍͌ͤ̓̿̄̈ͭ̎͐̚ ̳̖͓̣͙͎̜̠ͯͭ͗̽ͫͪ̒̂̌ͥͮͧ̔̔ͪD̰̝͙̭̭̼̩̮̲̼̹͇̱̰̣͍̫̒̿ͧ̄ͨ̔ͥͮͥͅO̳̝̦̳̗̪̻̬̺̻̓̃̅̓ͫͦ̄̌̌́͆ͫ̈́ͭ̊̑K̳̩͇͇̳̜͓͈̦̻̮̦̝͍̠̠̺̗̈́ͬ͂ͧ̈ͯͮ̌̍ͧͤͦ́̌Ï̱͕̲̠͉̫̙̗̦̂̊̃̃̽̈̎̾ͪͅ
͈̯̰̖͉̙̳ͤͫͯ̈̿̒̇̅͒͑̐͊̄Ḋ̰̯̹̤̝͚̩͕̻̱̘̜͉̲̈́̿̾ͪ̉̓̽̓̌͛́̊̏Ḛ̲̠̗̯͎̳͇̥̦̟ͧͪͣͮ̃̔͂͋ͅV̼̦̙̺̰͚̟̜͔̽̄̉̀̊̅̓ͣ̀̀̊͗͑́ͮͧ̉̓Õ̠̜̘͎̖̜̔̐͆ͦ̌̃̌̾̐͒ͪ̐ͮͬ̇̅̅T̥̝̠͈̱̠̻͚̣̙̤̳̐ͫͤ̽̽́ͯ͒̀̌̽̉̍E̻͚̫͚̫̞̯͍͎̮̱̞͖͍̽ͣ̏̀ͧ͒ͭ͗̆͗ͤ͗̑ͪ̆͑͋̏̔ ̜̳͇͙̰͕̯͉͚̠̤̞͚͓͍̉̔ͨ̍͐̒̋̂ͤ̑̅Y̯̫͕̳̦̠̪̤͓̻͔̞̱̣̰̜̣͌̎͋͛ͬͬͥ̿̅O̼̫͓̤̫̹̓̆ͤ̀͆͆̅͂ͯ̆ͧ͒U͈̮͇͍̭͇̲̲̝̜̦͉̠͓̭̮̠͎̽̏ͩ͗͗ͭ͊͑̔ͧͥͤ̃͛̒ͅR̺̠̯̠̰͙̹͙̦͓̥̘̈̇̈͑ ͚̱͉̻̲͎̫̯̯̗͎͚̣͚̘͇̙ͥͥ͂̀ͥͅL̹͔̥̣̻̣͚̗̝̯̝ͭ̔ͤ͂ͨ͋͌ͤͮͅI͔͇̳̬̊̓ͫ͌̿̆̃̈́ͭ͑̑ͤ͆ͧ͆ͣF͈̦̼̟͓͔̘͖͒ͫ̃͑̏͌̏ͦ̽ͫ̽̌̑̈́͐͒E̳̭̯̰̣̯̘͑͒̆ͦ͊̓͐ͦͭ͗ͨ̈̋ͧͣ̚ ͍͔̬͔͕̦̳̮̀̆͒ͯ̇̚T͙̘̠̫̪͙ͣ͐͌̅ͬͥͥ̒̃̈͌̎̓ͫ̓̈́̾ͅO̖̺͙̙͕̯̤̮̙̮̳̦͚̯̗̞͚̹̓̉̾ͭ̍̆ ̖̫̱̦̼̠̼̩̈̓͌̓̀̔̍ͧ̓ͥͦ́ͥ̓Ị͖̞̘̙̯̼̬͉̺̭͔̬͍͚͐̆͗͑̓ͦ̽͛̒ͪ̒ͤͤͨ͐̇͗ͦM̰̖̘̫̫͕͓̦͈̥͍̗͈̫̺͓͎͆͆̈͐ͭ͊ͫ̊ͦ̇̽̃͂ͪ̚̚ͅͅO̘͚̤͚͕̖̬̼̹͇̜͈ͫ͆ͬ͗͌̉̌̋ͬ̂̌͋͒̽͐̄ͤͅṶ̝̺̜̐͋̿͊͛̎̏ͭ̉͒ͮ̿̓̉̏ͦ̚T̼̫̤̙̗̖̳̦̳̼̰̄̽̊ͬ̐̑͆ͦ̀͂O̻̬̣̪ͬ͗͌̀ͤͨ́̓ ͙̝̳̫̫̜̫̼͖̮͔̟ͥͯ́ͭ͂ͤ͛ͤ͊̑̽͂̚B̗̮̮̗̥̱̫̲̗̮͍̰͉͍̩̫̞̮͔ͥ̀̓̄̍ͪ̊̓ͦ͛̿͌ͧ̀̾̾ͤ̆Ĕ̳͙͖̪͉̯̙̥͎͕͓̦̜͈̻̽̊ͯ̉̆̀̽͛͌̔̾̓F͙̠̮͔̣͇̪͂͊ͫ̃O̳̥͎̭͎̤̯͖͉͙̗̙͖̰͛ͨͨ̀͌͑͛̅ͅȐ̳̯͓͓̼͓̰̬̩̜ͦ̒̌̃̔̍̎̋E̗̦̻̠̬̳͓̠̙̦̥͕̥͕ͩ͑͋̏̅̌ͅ ͚̬͓̹̫̩̅ͬ̈ͧͨ̄ͮ̂̅ͧ͛ͪ̍͌ͯͅI̥̮̳̯̼̙̩͒͋̔̓͑̄ͤ̉̽͊͂́͆͂̊ͫ̑ͥ̎T̳͈͔̪̫̪̞̘̝̭̹̤̠̗̠̱ͣͤ̈́̔ͬ͋̽ͅ ̻̘͈͍̻͚̰̻̫̬͐̂̽ͣ̔̋ͨ̾̑İ̫̣̳̱̞͔̣̬̲͉̟̪̺̫ͧ̊̂ͥ͐ͭ̉ͩ͐̍S̻͓̬̑ͦͪͨ͐̋̾ͬ̒̆̋ͤͦ̎͆̌̄ ̦͎̦͉̰͂ͤ̓̾̈́͌̂ͨ̔̊̌ͯ̀͌Ț̻̱̝̬̮̦̟̟̦͔̳͎̟̝ͣ͊̄͆ͯ̊̓ͪ̅͂̈́̏͌̅̋ͩ̒ͅO̞̦̩̤ͬ̎͒ͨ͗̈̽̂̆͋͑͛̀ͥ́O̹̫̹̓͋ͬ̽̈́̊̋ͥ̏͊̂͊͊ ̱̪̯͈̫̞̤̩̜̃͂ͪͭ͌̓ͧ̆̍ͬͧ̐͐͗́͆̽̚ͅL̝͎̩̭̥̫ͩͦ̃ͣͨ̾͋̒͌̈ͭͭ̊ͩ̋ͨA̘̗̲͓̹͚̲̩̖̅̍ͮ̌ͨͬ̍̚T̹͕͉̲̼̘͙͂̓͗̆ͨ̏̄ͦ̊ͥ͆̏́ͫͣ̉̓ͣ̚E̯̜̺̙̋͛͐̎̏̎̄ͮ̎ͅ


Using my copious amounts of unflappable free will, I have taken all of the aforementioned evidence into account, and concluded entirely on my own, without any outside influences, that engaging in eugenics to create a society entirely comprised of imoutos and onii-chans will eventually produce a superior breed of humans capable of biologically terraforming the rest of our solar system. This will move our species one step closer to the universally-shared goal of intergalactic domination. Our species being the human race, of course. Listen to me. I have a PhD in this, you know. I wouldn’t lie to you. And neither would imouto.