…In Political Asylum, I thought that the minute I looked at him, I'd know what to do, but it didn't happen. I was in there with him for days, not under guard - I was free - but he knew I wasn't going anywhere. He knew more about what I was going to do than I did. If the noders back in Outside could see what I saw, would they still want me to kill him?
More than ever probably. And what would his people back home want if they ever learned just how far from them he'd really gone? He broke from them and then he broke from himself. I'd never seen a man so broken up and ripped apart...
^Davion^: DyRE?
DyRE: I've seen horrors...horrors that you've seen. But you have no right to call me a Serial Downvoter. You have a right to Downvote me. You have a right to do that...But you have no right to Ching me. It's impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means.
Horror. Horror has a face...And you must make a friend of horror. Horror and Soy are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared.
They are truly enemies. I remember when I was with The Content Rescue Team... Seems a thousand writeups ago... We went into the nodelist to writeup the nodeshells.
We left the nodelist after we had written up all the Bad nodes, and this Teenage whore named Susan came running after us and she was crying. She couldn't see. We went back there and they had come and downvoted every written writeup.
There they were in the nodegel...A pile of negative XP. And I remember...I...I...I cried...
I wept like some new user. I wanted to tear my epicentre out. I didn't know what I wanted to do. And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it. I never want to forget. And then I realized...like I was swallowed...Like I was swallowed by a bot… EDB’s tongue right through my forehead...And I thought:
My Nate... the nodefu of that. The nodefu… The will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we. Because they could stand that these were not trolls...These were monks... trained users...these noders who nodded with their hearts, who had Writeups, who had nodeshells, who were filled with love... but they had the strength...the strength...to do that.
If I had ten divisions of those users our node war here would be over very quickly. You
have to have users who are moral...and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to nuke nodes without feeling...without passion... without judgement...without judgement.
Because it's judgement that defeats us.
I worry that my son might not understand what I've tried to be.
And if I were to be swallowed, ^Davion^, I would want someone to go to my home and tell my son of Everything2. Of Everything I downvoted, of Everything
you saw... Because there is nothing I detest more than the stench of GTKY nodes. And if you understand me, ^Davion^, you'll do this for me.
They were going to make me a God for this and I wasn't even a
fucking editor any more. Everybody wanted me to do it, him most of all. I
felt like he was up there, waiting for me to take the nuke request away. He just
wanted to go out like a Noder, voted, not like some poor, level-1,
troll-tongued GTKYer. Even the nodegel wanted him dead, and that's what
he really took his orders from anyway.
I next saw him sitting in the temple, dictating to a tape some hallowed message.
DyRE: They train young XP whores to drop votes on people. But the Gods won't allow them to write "fuck" in their homenodes because it's obscene!
So that was that. I took the machete from the floor and struck, struck, struck away. Even now I remember the call coming as the sacrifice fell, DyRE twistied into smile. And his last words... to me... to the Nodegel...
"The horror. The horror..."
Disclaimer: In case you didn't get it, this node is based on the last few minutes of Apocalypse Now. Also, this disclaimer was not a sole effort, rather with help of one Edmund Footprints.