The Number-God - {none} - G
Title: The Number-God
Author: anamuan
Fandom: Original Universe
Rating: G?
Word count: 450
Summary: Everyone has a god to worship. This is ours.
The number was a god. Not any specific number--those were mere manifestations--but the number. The idea. The principle that guided its adherents for more, more, more; always more. Frightening and awesome, it drove its followers to hoard, an endless quest to amass, driving them towards that ephemeral, unreachable goal: more. More property, more money, more of everything, anything, to the outmost limits, because the god was cunning. It promised happiness.
Someday, when one had sacrificed enough of one's soul for the more the god demanded, it would reward one with more happiness than he or she could imagine. It gave one the temporary highs on his or her journey, the rush of accomplishment, of pride of acquisition, the pulsing euphoria of rushing over an edge. And, as it demanded more, so it promised. In exchange for everything, for control of one's life, for living by its precepts, it promised one more of all of one's desires.
It was an insidious god. It crept its way into everything, everyone. It wove itself into the foundations of countries, economies, cultures. Its most strident opponents still operated under its tenets. It worked its way into fundamental values, marginalizing other beliefs until all one hunted was for the god, whether one realized it or not. It pushed out virtues until it was the sole recipient of all one's desire and worship, but did so, so cleverly, one saw the process as one of growth or necessity.
The god was clever. It knew all the rational arguments to help it, pointing out good reasons to follow its edicts in a certain set of circumstances, and stamping out the voices that cried dissent. It repeated its reasons, its multitude of good reasons, playing the voices of proponents loudly for one to hear, until following the god's commands was first nature instead of second, until one did not stop to question the economy or outcomes of the lust for more but chase after it blindly. Blind faith is, after all, the strongest.
Its call was strong. The god affected everyone, from mighty rulers to wretched paupers; from the cruel and selfish to the bleeding hearts, for its directive only required more, and its method slowly melted away other motivations--leaving their shell, so its adherents would not notice--until all was left was the aching empty need for more.
It affected us too, poor pitiful writers. Even those who regularly worshipped at the alter of the equally elusive perfection. Realizing the folly of our ardent devotion, we searched for a more pleaseable god to worship, and fall upon the number. More words. Salvation, or at least the hope of it.
The number was a god.
Author: anamuan
Fandom: Original Universe
Rating: G?
Word count: 450
Summary: Everyone has a god to worship. This is ours.
The number was a god. Not any specific number--those were mere manifestations--but the number. The idea. The principle that guided its adherents for more, more, more; always more. Frightening and awesome, it drove its followers to hoard, an endless quest to amass, driving them towards that ephemeral, unreachable goal: more. More property, more money, more of everything, anything, to the outmost limits, because the god was cunning. It promised happiness.
Someday, when one had sacrificed enough of one's soul for the more the god demanded, it would reward one with more happiness than he or she could imagine. It gave one the temporary highs on his or her journey, the rush of accomplishment, of pride of acquisition, the pulsing euphoria of rushing over an edge. And, as it demanded more, so it promised. In exchange for everything, for control of one's life, for living by its precepts, it promised one more of all of one's desires.
It was an insidious god. It crept its way into everything, everyone. It wove itself into the foundations of countries, economies, cultures. Its most strident opponents still operated under its tenets. It worked its way into fundamental values, marginalizing other beliefs until all one hunted was for the god, whether one realized it or not. It pushed out virtues until it was the sole recipient of all one's desire and worship, but did so, so cleverly, one saw the process as one of growth or necessity.
The god was clever. It knew all the rational arguments to help it, pointing out good reasons to follow its edicts in a certain set of circumstances, and stamping out the voices that cried dissent. It repeated its reasons, its multitude of good reasons, playing the voices of proponents loudly for one to hear, until following the god's commands was first nature instead of second, until one did not stop to question the economy or outcomes of the lust for more but chase after it blindly. Blind faith is, after all, the strongest.
Its call was strong. The god affected everyone, from mighty rulers to wretched paupers; from the cruel and selfish to the bleeding hearts, for its directive only required more, and its method slowly melted away other motivations--leaving their shell, so its adherents would not notice--until all was left was the aching empty need for more.
It affected us too, poor pitiful writers. Even those who regularly worshipped at the alter of the equally elusive perfection. Realizing the folly of our ardent devotion, we searched for a more pleaseable god to worship, and fall upon the number. More words. Salvation, or at least the hope of it.
The number was a god.