It’s hard to be smarter than everyone else. Just ask me. I’d answer you, but I’m too trapped in my own complex system of dialectical hermeneutics, and we’d probably both end up dead. For example, if being a total shut-in is a sign of superior intellect, why doesn’t my furniture acquiesce and buy me some cosmetic surgery and nice shoes? It’s terribly difficult and dramatic to be as gifted as I am. This, I suspect, is also why I seem to be unable to keep a boyfriend for very long (that and the fact that apparently some people like to talk about something other than me).
My problem, I’ve realized, is that the dragons living in my head (dragons that are smarter than the dragons living in the heads of everyone else) won’t allow me to synthesize the full force of my powers for evil because they have some sort of moral objection. I try to tell the dragons about the “might plus evil equals success” paradigm, but they just won’t listen. They just tromp around in my head setting things on fire and going “BLARGH!” and arguing about Rainer Maria Rilke. Fucking dragons.
You’re familiar, of course, with “might plus evil equals success.”
Take Leni Riefenstahl. Nobody calls her the greatest filmmaker ever for all that crap she did in Africa. That was just penance for placing her pouty Aryan lips around Hitler’s scrotum and humming Flight of the Valkyries for most of 1936. Triumph of the Will was such a self-fulfilling prophecy (at least until the fire-bombing of Dresden) because all her directorial gifts were concentrated on Hitler. If only we were all so lucky.
Or Ann Coulter. I may just be bitter because Ann and I broke up after 13 of the most highly-sexed lesbian months you’ve ever witnessed (and our prenup meant that I had to give back both the Hummer and the army of illegal immigrant minskirt weavers), but she’s another example of how to use your entire Will to Power to incite mass hysteria and sheep-like adherence to neo-totalitarianism. On their own, Ann’s powers (one part marginal writing prowess, four parts baseless invective, and a fine dusting of skinny legs) add up to little more than a live-action version of Janis from The Muppet Show on a crusade against fer’ners. But synthesized in the service of evil, they translate to seven-figure book deals, and that buys enough self-tanner to orange-ify all of Nürnberg.
And of course, look at Karl Rove. You might think that serving as Head Evil Genius for the Bush White House is the amalgamation of his Dark Lord powers, but his recent departure from his post to skulk back into the shadows in the service of maintaining the Republican majority in the midterm elections proves otherwise. I cannot even imagine the war heroes he will smear or the groupthink bigotry he’ll incite when the full force of his genius is freed from the coddling of his puppet overlord and returned to the underbelly whence it came!
In the meantime, I hope you are all thinking of ways to apply your own gifts to the Riefenstahl/Coulter/Rove model, because as far as I can tell, the world needs as much of this kind of thing as it can get. How else, after all, will we get to the Apocalypse — which, lest you forget, consists of seven rapturous years of “Hell on Earth” (consisting of a world without Christians and little kids — where do I sign up)? I myself am going to find a way to concentrate my own gifts — extreme loudness and the inability to hold down a relationship — for the forces of evil. I haven’t quite synthesized it yet, but the dragons in my head are saying something about Jimmy Choos and a rap album. I just hope I figure it out before November, when we’ll all be dead.