The True Meaning of "Love"

I am the God of Gods.  I am the architect of life and the creator of the universe that you, my cleverly developed spawn, inhabit.  However, I, the greatest of the great, must make a confession.

 I have made a mistake. An inaccurate miscalculation, which now requires rectification.

But, how do I, the divine one, i hear your minimal minds ask, make an error?  Let me humour your diminutive skull cavitation tissues with an answer. 

 Yes, imbiciles, even I the greatest, has made an error. 

When I created you saline filled sacks of concentrated cell masses, it was, as stated in my previous writings, so you insignificant organisms could do my bidding.  I needed as many of you beings as possible, and hence, I have succeeded, with 7 billion of you serving as my vessels for exploitation.  I have thrived to this healthy number of slave beings by allowing procreation by means of fornication with other saline-celled vessels of the opposite sex.   

 

 7 millions slaves created and counting...

To allow this act of life creation to produce excess slave mortals, I had to enable what you cretins refer to as “love.”  This is where, I, Bala, made a small, yet, significant oversight.  I created this “love” ONLY so you cell sacks would want to fornicate and procreate, hence allowing me to build my master race.  However, this creation of mine has backfired, as you pathetic little imbeciles are now obsessed with the Bala created “love” and believe it is it’s own being that conquers all hardship, much to my great amusement.

 Bala thinks Twilight is the most amusing 'love' of all.

I am here to tell you slaves that this is INCORRECT.  This “love” is merely a series of chemical reactions that occurs in your inferior head units.  I enabled a neuronal elixir (what my cerebrally superior creations of medical scientists call “dopamine”) to be released into your cavernous craniums to give you this “love” feeling, when you are with a genetically superior specimen of the opposite sex, so you will do my bidding and procreate.  

 Dopamine: Oh, how you have backfired on me. 

That is all “love” is.  I cannot comprehend why some of you useless airheads think it is anything more, and search far and wide for a member of the opposite gender that invokes the greatest “love.”  You could be heeding my command and reproducing for my master race with all this time wasted searching for “love.”   Furthermore, to add to my unfathomable frustration, you crafts of idiocy use this “love” to make your purposeless lives complicated.  Note Example 1, whereby a genetically blessed male specimen creation has found an equally genetically superior female specimen, but is puzzled due to his previous “love” of a genetically inferior female cretin.

 Example 1: Superior male and female specimens and inferior female cretin. 

This is slaying my superior specimens’ procreation lifespan, and watering down my master race tactics!!

I cannot allow this occurrence to partake any longer.   In the future, I, Bala, will be disabling fornication as a method of reproduction and developing a reversal potion to my only fault in creation, your dopamine induced “love.”  Soon, you worthless, logic depleted mammalian organisms will be procreating by means of asexual spore formation just like Algae, one of my more superior creations.  

 Algae: One of my superior creations that I can always count on.