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.

Regards,

Mike

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.