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It's a thankless. fucking. job.
Oct. 9th, 2008 04:05 pmDo you want to know the real reason we hate them? Because they exist.
-Daniel Balint (The Believer
The idea seemed like a monstrous joke.
And he wishes (oh how he wishes) that he'd taken the naysayers seriously. The idea was only hinted at, speculated at even. The economy was on the brink of collapse and since GeneCo was fitting the bill for the renovation and salvation of mankind it seemed only right that they'd protect their investment.
And to this day he still has to stop and think over exactly what Rotti Largo said About said investment. Not out of any moral compunction but simply out of the surely large legal precussions that even then Rotti-Largo had to have known existed.
Murder was suddenly legal, and there was little that people could do but stare as the first Repo-Man walked out of jail a free man, cold chills running down their GeneCo brand stomaches.
-------------
And the question on everyone's mind was why the Repo-Men were feared and respected and hated. The cops of the twenty-first century, a needed evil. No chills down their corporate brand stomaches, no twitches up their designer spines, nothing but acceptance and the occasional annoyed grimace. Fear was for the dead and they weren't dead.
"Oh there he is." Step aside. For the most part most people (well, most people) squared their debts and left GeneCo alone. Needed Evil, they had survived after all.
And one day he hears after sending up a cleaning crew a group of roommates talking.
"...It's not the y'know-whole blood and gore thing? It's just like-what gives them the right to put their hands on my body. My dad paid for my lungs. I'm a runner I need them. Not my fault. He should totally go and talk to my dad-"
"I know right? My hands were a gift from my grandmother! Apply to her not to me, I mean I-"
Their voices die down as he approaches and stalks away.
And oh how far they'd fallen into the trap where mankind was a sally the ragdoll collection of parts and pieces. Why do they hate me?
Because they were a sign that somewhere along the line mankind had fucked up and brought him and men like him into being.
Fuck um'. It was a thankless job, but somebody had to do it.
-Daniel Balint (The Believer
The idea seemed like a monstrous joke.
And he wishes (oh how he wishes) that he'd taken the naysayers seriously. The idea was only hinted at, speculated at even. The economy was on the brink of collapse and since GeneCo was fitting the bill for the renovation and salvation of mankind it seemed only right that they'd protect their investment.
And to this day he still has to stop and think over exactly what Rotti Largo said About said investment. Not out of any moral compunction but simply out of the surely large legal precussions that even then Rotti-Largo had to have known existed.
Murder was suddenly legal, and there was little that people could do but stare as the first Repo-Man walked out of jail a free man, cold chills running down their GeneCo brand stomaches.
-------------
And the question on everyone's mind was why the Repo-Men were feared and respected and hated. The cops of the twenty-first century, a needed evil. No chills down their corporate brand stomaches, no twitches up their designer spines, nothing but acceptance and the occasional annoyed grimace. Fear was for the dead and they weren't dead.
"Oh there he is." Step aside. For the most part most people (well, most people) squared their debts and left GeneCo alone. Needed Evil, they had survived after all.
And one day he hears after sending up a cleaning crew a group of roommates talking.
"...It's not the y'know-whole blood and gore thing? It's just like-what gives them the right to put their hands on my body. My dad paid for my lungs. I'm a runner I need them. Not my fault. He should totally go and talk to my dad-"
"I know right? My hands were a gift from my grandmother! Apply to her not to me, I mean I-"
Their voices die down as he approaches and stalks away.
And oh how far they'd fallen into the trap where mankind was a sally the ragdoll collection of parts and pieces. Why do they hate me?
Because they were a sign that somewhere along the line mankind had fucked up and brought him and men like him into being.
Fuck um'. It was a thankless job, but somebody had to do it.
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