In all the history of all the world, love has never ended well.
The stories you have heard ending in an “I love you” and “let’s live happily ever after” have either been edited to end just before the piles of money can save the damsel in distress, or the author has been paid piles of money to lie. Probably by Disney. Or Mills and Boon. I hope not both because that would be kind of weird since these corporations are diametrically opposed in terms of the ages of their target markets.
Love is hurtful, embarrassing and was undoubtedly created by tissue manufacturing companies so they could sell more product.
Invariably, love is agony and anguish and if you do survive the evil grasps of this inessential concept, it ends in inevitable self-loathing and death. Probably by a gun shot.
Look at the classics. Cleopatra and Mark Antony. Romeo and Juliet. Oedipus and his Mummy. Narcissi and his reflection. Buffy and Angel. Nothing like a poisonous snake or poison in general or an incestuous love, self-love, or sword in the face to really show how utterly fantastic love it.
Love is the root of all evil. If you think that money is the root of all evil, obviously your Latin isn’t up to scratch. If you spent as much time in your life pursuing money as you did love, you could have paid to learn Latin properly. The correct translation is ‘the LOVE of money is the root of all evil.’ And there we have it. The love of something is the root of all evil. What a surprise. It’s the insertion of the notion of love that is the evil component of this famous phrase. Ergo (how do you like my Latin?) love is the root of all evil. Obviously.
(Incidentally, Mark Twain did the impossible and he actually perfected the phrase. He said, ‘the LACK of money is the root of all evil.’)
Money isn’t evil. It makes the world go around. It makes people put on beautifully weird flares and sing money money money. They have to say it three times because they are so happy to be so rich.
Money, on the other hand, is the greatest, most powerful force in the world. Look at where it got Trump. Money confers a freedom of movement on a person. Without money the world as we know it would grind to a halt. Money, if you treat it right, won’t leave you, won’t cheat on you, make you sad and won’t tell you you’re fat.
Money can get you happiness, the partner of your dreams, the newly released boxed edition of every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Money can even get you your own island.
Money makes you beautiful and thin. It makes you healthy, if that sort of thing is imprtant to you. But if you prefer it can also get you a sleep-in every single morning because you won’t ever have to get up if you don’t feel like it.
Love makes you too fat or too thin and never the right amount of happy. It ages you. Love messes with your hormones and before you know it you have five kids that will never amount to anything and you haven’t seen your waist line in fifty years and now the cat is looking at you in a really judgmental way – all because a cute boy once told you he loved you.
Finally, and most importantly, money can buy you a gun. Because when you are tempted by love, the root of all evil, it will ruin you. Have you ever read a Greek Tragedy? Ever seen an episode of Jersey Shore? Ruined, every single one of them. And that’s when you really need a gun, which are expensive so you need money to get one. Ergo (there;s that awesome Latin again), when you move from the ‘I would have taken a bullet for you’ stage, and into the ‘now I want to pull the trigger,’ stage you are good to go.
Money gives you life. A good life. Any life you can imagine.
Love makes you want to take it and choke it and kill it until there is nothing left.
But of course, the choice is yours.