2019-09-28 00:26:39 -05:00
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<title>The Homestuck Epilogues: Meat - Chapter 41</title>
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<h1>Chapter 41</h1>
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2020-03-29 12:23:21 -05:00
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<div class="o-story_text o_epilogue type-rg type-sm line-caption line-copy pad-x-0 pad-x-lg pad-b-lg">
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<p class="no-indent dirk"><span class="opener type-hs-opener-rg type-hs-opener-sm">S</span>he’s
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2019-09-28 00:26:39 -05:00
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right, of course. I do have to be stopped.</p>
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<p class="dirk">Not because I’m really that bad. I mean, I don’t
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think I am. I’ll understand if there are those who disagree. If my
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agenda was to try as hard as I could to make sure no one thought I
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sucked, what the fuck would ever get done? How would I go about
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taming this world, or shaping reality for the better? And if I
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didn’t bother pursuing those goals, and thereby tacitly accepting
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the untold suffering that resulted from my inaction, wouldn’t
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<em>that</em> make me a bad person? If I try and succeed, I’m a
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hero, right? And if I try and fail, at least I made things
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interesting on my way to the grave. There would be a tragic
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nobility in that. And the way I see it, settling for anything less
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from my arc would be, frankly, pathetic.</p>
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<p class="dirk">So yeah, of course I know I “have to be stopped.”
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It’s part of the contract. What you sign up for when you assume the
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burdens of this sort of power. Where there is that which must be
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subdued and suborned for the greater good, there is that which will
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instinctively resist. That which intuits that whatever’s going on
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here is “wrong.” Otherwise, intervention wouldn’t even be
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necessary, would it? If reality and those within it were already so
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intrinsically pliable, so amenable to deviating from their own
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nature, the sins of men and faults of God would have no rigidity or
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resilience. There’d be no challenge in forcing their correction. No
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reward in ramming salvation down their throats. I know this isn’t
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coming cheap, what I’m trying to do. The cost of it is knowing I
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need to be stopped. I accept it consciously, and when the time
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comes—<em>if</em> it comes—I’ll offer myself up gladly.</p>
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<p class="dirk">But I’m not a fool. I know what accepting this cost
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really means, through any objective narrative faculty. No matter
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how I rationalize things, how grandly I orate my supreme designs,
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or how indulgent and self-obsessed my concluding soliloquy may come
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across, I’m perfectly aware of what I’ve become in all practical
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ways. I am the villain now. It’s gotten impossible for me to see
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this result as anything but inevitable, from the day I was spawned
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from a puddle of slime. I want to be a good person. I believe I am
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a good person. But when you’re someone like me, good is never going
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to be quite good enough.</p>
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<p class="dirk">The problem is, I think power like mine can only
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make antagonistic intent unavoidable. Who could wield such control
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over people’s choices and the course of events without ultimately
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becoming the enemy of anyone who notices? Maybe only a stronger
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person than I could manage to pull it off. Someone like Dave. So
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when I say I know I need to be stopped, I guess it’s more than just
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accepting my end of a diabolical bargain. I know I need to be
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stopped, because I’m sure deep down, somewhere inside my infinitely
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recursive sense of self, I know what’s going on here is all just a
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little bit sick. To be honest, I’d consider killing myself and
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sparing reality all the trauma from the jump—I mean, a legit
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suicide, not one of those melodramatic faux-suicidal plays for
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attention, sympathy, or Jake’s dick. But to really do it for keeps?
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For a truly selfless purpose? Nah. Too cowardly for that. Too
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afraid to stop existing for good. Wouldn’t you be if you were
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me?</p>
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<p class="dirk">I guess therein lies the problem. If I
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<em>weren’t</em> me, obviously I’d consider myself much less
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indispensable. Only worthless people permit themselves the great
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luxury of a valorous sacrifice. When the deed is done, what was
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really lost? It’s like the guy in the mail room quitting in a
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self-righteous huff. Who the fuck were you again? No, when the
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sense of self is so substantial, when the fate of everything turns
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on every vain whim of an ego this sprawling, this entrenched in the
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very medium that contains all else, there’s a certain existential
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sunk cost that goes with the whole deal. A persona that vast
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doesn’t just self-terminate. It won’t allow itself to.</p>
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<p class="dirk">That’s why when someone finally comes knocking for
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the price I owe, I’ll fully welcome it. By then it’ll have been a
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long time coming, and I’ll probably have done more than my share to
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make sure, somewhere along the way, it all got put into motion.
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What good is a villain who doesn’t have a satisfying dramatic
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comeuppance in store for him? So yeah, the next time I die, let’s
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pencil it in as a Just Death. And let’s also have it on good
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authority that the next time Dave cuts off my head, it’ll be for
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good.</p>
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<p class="dirk">I’ll be looking forward to that day just as much as
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the next guy.</p>
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