I Held My Crotch, Closed My Eyes

He Knew All The Answers. Everybody Did. Everybody Knew Everything And Everybody Knew All The Answers. It Was Just That The Enemy Seemed To Know Better Ones.

But It Was Pointless, It Was Stupid; He Thought About Thoughtless Things. If I Were A Seabird . . . But How Could You Be A Seabird? If You Were A Seabird Your Brain Would Be Tiny And Stupid And You Would Love Half-rotted Fish Guts And Tweaking The Eyes Out Of Little Grazing Animals; You Would Know No Poetry And You Could Never Appreciate Flying As Fully As The Human On The Ground Yearning To Be You. If You Wanted To Be A Seabird You Deserved To Be One.

It Looks Perverted And Wasteful To Us, But Then One Thing That Empires Are Not About Is The Efficient Use Of Resources And The Spread Of Happiness; Both Are Typically Accomplished Despite The Economic Short-circuiting - Corruption And Favoritism, Mostly- Endemic To The System.

It Gripped Her Hand Gently. 'regret Is For Humans,' It Said. She Laughed. 'really?' The Machine Shrugged And Let Go Of Her Hand. 'oh, No. It's Just Something We Tell Ourselves.

Even Galaxy-spanning Anarchist Utopias Of Stupefying Full-spectrum Civilisational Power Have Turf Wars Within Their Unacknowledged Militaries.