"Out of the chrysalis didst the butterfly emerge. From a
rather vague, apparently functionless and motionless pupal shell, doth a
butterfly eclose. Out of seeming blandness doth a magnificent creature emerge;
an array of colors, all wafer-thin gossamer wings dusted in a fine powdered
silk. A beautiful sight. An awe-inspiring rebirth. The most magnificent
metamorphosis imaginable.
Thus didst the artist also emerge. A previously imprisoned
creature, until all of the biochemical triggers fire in sequence, the chemical
information present therein being translated into changes, apparently drastic
physical and phenotypic changes at that. In a more evolved and higher order
organism, such as the human, naturally the brain is also heavily impacted. A
neural rewiring of the network, exchanging synapses, disconnecting those neurons
from these ones, and patch them in over here, why don’t you? Just like the newly
formed butterfly exiting the pupa to newfound freedom and billowing fresh air,
there is a period of “adjustment”. One could be forgiven for thinking the poor
creature is in total shock at it’s new outlook on the world, but biology is
rarely that unsophisticated. It is function, not folly, my friends. The
butterfly needs to sit there awhile, so that its wings can harden in fresh air,
to allow take off of the maiden flight. So it was with my good self, upon the
realization that my life, my purpose, were similarly altered. I suddenly had
you, Charlie Springbank, in my sights, and there was no letting go of you, this
time. Upon sitting on the branch for long enough, in awe and wonder at my new
challenge, my wings had sufficiently stiffened to facilitate forward movement.
So it was that I conceptualized The Masterwork.
Let me be most clear, dear boy. Whilst it came to me in a
vision, I had no intention of falling into the traps that others do. I never was
nor ever would be or become a serial criminal. God, no. Life’s too short dear
boy, and I had much work to do. But it just so happened that for a certain
period you became my life’s work, and that’s all there was to it. What better
way to make you pay for your sins, than to come at you where you live and work,
and at your work? Find a method of attack that impacts your daily life in such a
way that you cannot escape it. Many people walk out the door of a sunny morning,
breathe a sigh of relief, because at least they have work, and a nice office to
escape to each day. But what if I came up with an approach that hit you in the
stomach, every day, in your chic office, at work? Hit ya hard enough, and on a
regular enough basis, that coming home to quaint old Beacon Hill was but small
comfort. Especially if the news was blaring on incessantly about it, and the
wife would rattle on about when are y’all gonna get off your backsides and do
something about it? Daddy-in-law starting to breathe down your neck, because His
Highness, Lord Mayor, was starting to crack some heads of his own. The Chief of
Police and The Mayor both scowling at you, when you dare to show up at some
society function, when you should be at HQ, busting your ass. Irrespective of
your acceptance into certain circles due to the wife’s family connections. Yes,
this was the idea of The Masterwork. So it was conceived and designed, to
pristine perfection. But the proof is in the execution, isn’t it old
fruit?
While I recognized that I might rapidly ascend my very own
ladder, into stratospheric levels of stardom, I was forced to consider
methodology most carefully. There wasn’t any point in becoming an incarcerated
star. The job only partially completed. This had to be avoided at all cost. Not
least as I had zero intention of giving up even one hour of my own freedom due
to the pursuit and deconstruction of yours. This was to be a win-win for me, and
a lose-lose for you. Anything less than this and I would be unable to call it
The Masterwork. Fast forward the tape, moron, and yes, it is today considered by
one and all as The Masterwork." - EU
"Out of the chrysalis didst the butterfly emerge. From a
rather vague, apparently functionless and motionless pupal shell, doth a
butterfly eclose. Out of seeming blandness doth a magnificent creature emerge;
an array of colors, all wafer-thin gossamer wings dusted in a fine powdered
silk. A beautiful sight. An awe-inspiring rebirth. The most magnificent
metamorphosis imaginable.
Thus didst the artist also emerge. A previously imprisoned
creature, until all of the biochemical triggers fire in sequence, the chemical
information present therein being translated into changes, apparently drastic
physical and phenotypic changes at that. In a more evolved and higher order
organism, such as the human, naturally the brain is also heavily impacted. A
neural rewiring of the network, exchanging synapses, disconnecting those neurons
from these ones, and patch them in over here, why don’t you? Just like the newly
formed butterfly exiting the pupa to newfound freedom and billowing fresh air,
there is a period of “adjustment”. One could be forgiven for thinking the poor
creature is in total shock at it’s new outlook on the world, but biology is
rarely that unsophisticated. It is function, not folly, my friends. The
butterfly needs to sit there awhile, so that its wings can harden in fresh air,
to allow take off of the maiden flight. So it was with my good self, upon the
realization that my life, my purpose, were similarly altered. I suddenly had
you, Charlie Springbank, in my sights, and there was no letting go of you, this
time. Upon sitting on the branch for long enough, in awe and wonder at my new
challenge, my wings had sufficiently stiffened to facilitate forward movement.
So it was that I conceptualized The Masterwork.
Let me be most clear, dear boy. Whilst it came to me in a
vision, I had no intention of falling into the traps that others do. I never was
nor ever would be or become a serial criminal. God, no. Life’s too short dear
boy, and I had much work to do. But it just so happened that for a certain
period you became my life’s work, and that’s all there was to it. What better
way to make you pay for your sins, than to come at you where you live and work,
and at your work? Find a method of attack that impacts your daily life in such a
way that you cannot escape it. Many people walk out the door of a sunny morning,
breathe a sigh of relief, because at least they have work, and a nice office to
escape to each day. But what if I came up with an approach that hit you in the
stomach, every day, in your chic office, at work? Hit ya hard enough, and on a
regular enough basis, that coming home to quaint old Beacon Hill was but small
comfort. Especially if the news was blaring on incessantly about it, and the
wife would rattle on about when are y’all gonna get off your backsides and do
something about it? Daddy-in-law starting to breathe down your neck, because His
Highness, Lord Mayor, was starting to crack some heads of his own. The Chief of
Police and The Mayor both scowling at you, when you dare to show up at some
society function, when you should be at HQ, busting your ass. Irrespective of
your acceptance into certain circles due to the wife’s family connections. Yes,
this was the idea of The Masterwork. So it was conceived and designed, to
pristine perfection. But the proof is in the execution, isn’t it old
fruit?
While I recognized that I might rapidly ascend my very own
ladder, into stratospheric levels of stardom, I was forced to consider
methodology most carefully. There wasn’t any point in becoming an incarcerated
star. The job only partially completed. This had to be avoided at all cost. Not
least as I had zero intention of giving up even one hour of my own freedom due
to the pursuit and deconstruction of yours. This was to be a win-win for me, and
a lose-lose for you. Anything less than this and I would be unable to call it
The Masterwork. Fast forward the tape, moron, and yes, it is today considered by
one and all as The Masterwork." - EU
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