Tuesday, May 15, 2018

I Want To Tell You A Story, About An Elemental Intent Called Hate

Hate, you might be surprised to learn, is actually a very nice, likeable fellow. And if he ever took it upon himself to be manifested, in one of the peculiarly limiting, but also quite singularly intoxicating, realms of Meaning Processor reality, you wouldn't be able to keep yourself from liking the guy, or girl; depending on his mood (there was fun to be had going either way of course).

Hate, you see, knows his place... Well, most of the time.

On the one hand he knows he must incite the opposite of his counterpart. for how would the locals ever appreciate love if he didn't (hate loves his counterpart actually, just as the opposite is true for him). And of course, just being able to screw with the locals in the first place was fun enough in itself. First you seduce. Then you whisper in their ears to play upon their fears. And then let their own ignorance do the rest.

On the other hand it is easy, sometimes, in the right reality realm, to get a little carried away.

There was this one, in fact, where things really got out of "anybody keeping a handle on anything" for a while. And it all started like this:

He was walking along one day, checking things out as to the current balance between his tender treatments, and his beloved counter part's, when he decided to rest a bit on a lovely tall mountain. Things were going about as you would just about as you would want to expect, with neither hate, nor love, getting too crazy (the disarray, as well as its opposite, was inching along in the right, opposing, direction) so he thought he could do with a rest.

It turned out to be only nap mind you, barely more than a century, or two, by the locals way of time. Things had certainly changed though. The locals must have learned a thing or two in that time. Which was odd because it usually takes a lot longer. They must have found a way to organize themselves by which to really start getting things done with. And that could certainly be a good thing, sometimes.

When he woke up, though, he was surprised to see he had company. His good friend Greed was sitting comfortable in front of a very nice campfire, and with him was a noob in the elemental game. He could tell the thing was young, but it had a swagger to it quite beyond what you would expect from its limited existence so far. No doubt a new belief system the locals had also created, and put a lot of their creative energy into; quite a lot indeed indeed it would seem. So much so, in fact, that the thing was practically radiating with it.

Which was also suddenly embarrassing because he was getting turned on by it. Sending out some serious, "time to wreak some havoc" messages to this approximation of a local's brain. Counter acting against that, however, was another, equally powerful message: "I can barely feel my brother's presence at all."

And wouldn't you know, just as he's about to start asking some serious questions, his good friend Greed, has left what appears to be coffee, and still hot, right by his sleeping mat. Very expensive coffee, as he can see from its chemical makeup, and laced with something he can't quite decypher, but still not something showing any sign of any active capability. The fact that it smells so good though, and the prospect of tasty caffeine, is too much to resist. So he begins to sip it down eagerly as he rises to come and sit by the fire himself.

As Hate sits down, on Greed's left, eyeing the kid suspiciously, noting that he is on Greed's right, and taking big sips as he goes, he says: "Who's your friend there Greed? Got quite a cheek to him for one so young. What's going on?" That last question comes out with some extra emphasis as well because Hate now realizes that Fear is nearby as well; probably just as mesmerized. Not so much as to actually ever show his sorry self (because he seldom did in any case), but you always felt him when nearby.

Greed smiles. It is the smile of one entranced. "This is my newest friend Hate. My newest but also my most dear now I think," he blushes a bit here as he adds, as a quick after thought, "though it could only be the meerist bit more than you of course, my dear friend Hate."

Greed covers the moment with clicking back into his velvet smooth mode, as only Greed knows how to do, as he puts his arms around both of his companions; feigning auspicious import now like it was the purest form of gold light you ever experienced.

"My good friends. My three most important friends now. I do not think you truly appreciate just how momentus this moment is. That we, us four elementals, be here to be able to embark upon a journey never before imagined. Joining together. A partnership of function, and fulfillment, the likes of which has not been experienced in over ten thousand, unique, sentient realities. I am almost left speechless."

"That will be the day" thought Hate. But there's something about the moment now that is truly beginning to seep into him. Something both exhilarating, and mind numbingly terrifying. "Fear must really be hooked to be putting out like this," he thought again, "but hooked on what exactly? The prospect of going through with this, or not going through with this. And going through with what exactly?"

Sensing Hate's questioning mood, however, Greed was quick to pour on more of the schmooze that he had as a second and third nature.

"Hate my friend I want you to meet someone I know you are going to come to trust..." Greed gave it a nice, thoughtful pause, and then continued: "...and I think love just as much as Fear and I have." And at that he put a gently raised hand of caution. "Which I know you have questions about. I can understand that. But please my friend. If you value our friendship just give the fellow a listen."

The arms come come off each shoulder and he scoots back a bit to better facilitate a formal introduction: "Hate, it is my great pleasure to introduce you to Electro Capitalism. The newest, biggest thing in getting what you want ever dreamed up by sentients. He's just brilliant I tell you, just brilliant. And I want the two of you to shake hands and get this "getting to know each other thing"  started. Can you do that for me Hate" (Greed actually makes quotation marks in the air as if to indicate the total formality that this process should entail).

The brilliance the kid is putting off actually increases a bit as he smiles, and puts out an inviting hand to shake. And despite a growing unease that he knows is much more than what fear is doing, he can't help himself. He simply cannot resist the urge to reach out and grab this kid's hand and get a real sense of what he's made of. Only, when the two hands meet, and then clasp firmly together, what he gets from the new contact is way more than he could have possibly expected. Way way more.

It is blinding ecstasy that makes you ache with equal parts pleasure, and an equivalent amount of terrible desire for more. It is an energy rush of exceptional power. And now Hate realizes what was laced into his coffee; some kind of new form of information; encrypted almost beyond belief. And it is information as static structure ready to be instantiated as operating effect once the electrons, and photons, of sufficient entanglement, and quantity, can be pumped into them. And they are being pumped in now; flows bigger than a thousand Amazon rivers. And that effect is devastating in its ability to overwhelm all resistance, and quell all questions. For now there is only one question: "How do I get more?"

Hate is suddenly caught up in a climax that only an elemental can have. Followed in quick succession by several more. So many channels of input. So many avenues to pursue hateful deeds down. It is all so perfectly intoxicating. And all he can say is: "I really have to go now and seriously intercourse somebody up over not having as much as the other guy does." But Electro Capitalism won't let go of his hand.

Hate squirms a bit now because the grip is so strong, and he has been rendered so untypically weak. That this shouldn't be so hardly matters now, though, as the need to get back to his main business is getting ever more incessant by the second.

"Hey man, what gives? I really have to get going here. Let go for christ sakes."

At which point Electro Capitalism just smiles even more brilliantly as he replies: "No my new found friend. We will not be rushing off. We..." and he is emphasizing that word now, "... will be leaving together. And I can assure you we will be taking our time to systematically intercourse with all of them, repeatedly. And it will be truly glorious chaos that we will create together. They'll end up hating themselves as much as they hate each other, while loving every second of the rush to destroy. Because the destroyers will get to ride their own horses of the apocalypse; in ever more stunning, and profitable, highest fidelity. It's going to be the biggest seller ever till it ends. And what an ending that will be. Can you see it now my brother?"

And Hate could see it. And he couldn't help be just as turned on by it as he was revulsed. But which only made him more mad with desire. And the last rational thought he had was "oh by all of the Gods, and Elementals. What is going to become of this reality?"

Yes. What is going to happen indeed.


See Also:
[Post Note: So lets see as many of the ways that hate can be made to sell. J.V.]

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