After forging my "mighty-machine" tm (actual name) from the rough hewn glass of a gallows prison, the burning hatred of women scorned, of metal torn from the very hearth of the hindenburg and fueling it with igorant people and the very eternal souls of the damned and ever-hating. (Imagine something diesely punk'ish with black glass and electricty shouting out of it) i would then harness it's power to create a troglodyte race of physically stronger but subservient people loyal to me, bald as a side effect unfortunately and put them as obstructions in the doorway of every public place of joy. These "Men-of-ye-door" would be genetically conditioned to take joy in critiquing the apparel an behaviour of others, and yet be completely oblivious to their behaviour due to mental conditioning.
I would then harness the "Machine" to be self sufficient by drawing strength from the ever growing rage, and anger from public transportation.
I would then set up a base economy by offering people fame by debasing themselves on the internet, on television and in public medias, merely for the joy of fame itself. And in exchange collect their souls and common sense, thusly creating a society in which my doormen may flourish, and i creat a self perpetuating spiral where peoples highest wish is to follow those who have choosen their own doom by failing to account that all fame is fickle.
My sign is however a regrettably apparent, in the first batch of henchies it was a tribal like drawing, on the second generation barb wire, and on the third and forward it was southeast asian calligraphy.
Their common sense is sold to a small elite of corporate executives and the souls go to the demon with which i forged the unholy covenant to construct the "machine" in exchange for some of the doomed gold of Hell.
I started out in the 90's and it's going pretty awesome so far.
I would then harness the "Machine" to be self sufficient by drawing strength from the ever growing rage, and anger from public transportation.
I would then set up a base economy by offering people fame by debasing themselves on the internet, on television and in public medias, merely for the joy of fame itself. And in exchange collect their souls and common sense, thusly creating a society in which my doormen may flourish, and i creat a self perpetuating spiral where peoples highest wish is to follow those who have choosen their own doom by failing to account that all fame is fickle.
My sign is however a regrettably apparent, in the first batch of henchies it was a tribal like drawing, on the second generation barb wire, and on the third and forward it was southeast asian calligraphy.
Their common sense is sold to a small elite of corporate executives and the souls go to the demon with which i forged the unholy covenant to construct the "machine" in exchange for some of the doomed gold of Hell.
I started out in the 90's and it's going pretty awesome so far.
