Make War, Not Love (part 2)

[see below for part 1]

Some day soon Terrence Malick is going to make the Romance version of a
Thin Red Line, where men bend at the knees, grasp at dirt, and shriek
to the heavens "what does this all mean?!!?" If war is hell, then
Romantic Love is the Hell below Hell, where former enemies are united
in an awkward bond and humans do stupid things for one another. Love is
quaint, gawky, and ill-suited for the 21st Century. Though War ruled
the day in the previous century, Love was just as prominent, if not
more so in certain arenas (certainly in music: what ever happened to
writing martial hymns and war ballads?!? Doomed in the hands of the
Amoracracy). That will change in this century, as the last great
marriages are dissolved and the Bush Republic opens a can of whoop-ass
on the entire world, launching a hornets nest of teccch-savvy warriors
fighting mad enough to last another millenia. Century of War, here it
comes!

And what of Love? Romantic Love will be officially banned, couplehood
barred, and all bullshit love poetry wiped from the face of the Earth.
All humans will be voluntarily neutered, or forced to live in
gender-specific work-n-play camps. Love will be seen as a social
pathology, like drug addiction or being a sniper, and even TV reality
shows will make a game of rooting out the undesirable elements of
Romance, Sex will whither, die, and be forgotten, and soon enough human
consciousness will be transmutated into the asexual meta-consciousness
of a Planet on the Move, of supremely amazing space travel and all the
rest.

Where prostitution today is a black market activity, its market will
fall to the underground Love trade, wear hugs and handholding will be
traded for opium and guns, and hearts will be tattooed on biceps in
secretive back-alley locations where only swastikas were once drawn.

Am I an anti-Romantic? Perhaps. Or perhaps I love Love so much I'd be
willing to vote it into the oblivion of the Forbidden, increasing its
erotic-energetic power by millions of orders of magnitude. You know how
drugs today are so much stronger than they were back when legal (i.e.
weed)? Imagine what will happen to Love once its wrested from the
schmaltz-hands of Hallamark to be manufactured in basement meth labs by
evil one-armed bikers and half man/half dogs named Leroy Brown and
Sergio Tomacilliano Jr.

But first things first: ban Romance, and let's get on with this
Evolution thing already (the first four letters of which, you'll notice
are the OPPOSITE of Love).