Bonecrusher's Blog of Hate

Name's Bonecrusher. If you're reading this, I hate you. If you're not reading this, I hate you. Actually, I just hate you period. In fact, I hate everything. This blog examines the subtleties and complexities about this mindset, which flashbags like yourselves can only hope to ever achieve. Good luck with that.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Mail Call

So, I received this lovely gem in my inbox the other day.

Hello Bonecrusher,

I have a question for you. Do you like anything? Or is it only lesser levels of hating? Liking the hating doesn't count either, I mean do you actually like anything about life on earth? Surely there must be something in your existence that gives you joy, and again I don't mean hating giving you joy, I mean something you genuinely like.



And I have a question for you, 'Mike' - if that's your real name. Do you not pay attention, or what?

I Hate EVERYTHING. See that big word right there? Yes, that word is 'everything'. Everything means All of It. The whole shebang. The entire Universe, and then some. And because I Hate Everything, that means that by default, I cannot like anything. I know this is difficult for your little fleshy mind to comprehend, but yes, I do, in fact, Hate Everything.

Now, you are correct on one point. There are things I hate less then other things - marginally less, but yes, still less. But I still hate them, you see. For example, given the choice between rain or snow, I would kill the person making me choose. Then I would take the snow. Because while it is well documented that I hate rain, snowing is only that much worse. I hate rain slightly less then I hate snow. And don't get me started on a clear, sunny day. Ugh. Disgusting.

In answer to your second question, no there is not a thing on this planet, or anywhere else, that I genuinely like. One of the inevitable questions that always comes up is 'Do you hate hating things?', so let me just get that out of the way right now. Yes. I hate hating things. Somewhere, deep inside my spark, in it's darkest recesses, I wish I didn't hate everything, that I could find joy in some tiny thing in the universe. But then I snap out of it- even the tiny things in the universe are, when you get right down to it, tiny pieces of slag. And I hate it all.

And before you ask, yes, I also hate myself. And you too. For asking stupid questions.

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