It’s a proven way to gain control, isn’t it? You make some pleasant item readily available to a subject until the subject has become dependent on it, and then you start taking it away. When the subject then reaches for the item, what is received instead is a punishment. Sharp reprimand, a mild electric shock, a swat. This makes the item somehow more desirable, more of a treat, in its rare accessibility. The subject ends up curled on the far end of the room, hurt and a little desperate, and then you offer the item again. The surprised subject’s gratitude is boundless. You become a god. You grant, in your sparing, meager ways, that tiny morsel of the much-prized item and the subject is at your mercy. You are the salvation, you dictate generosity, you have all control.

This is why children raised by parents who unpredictably give and take away their affections tend to grow up to be the neediest, offering up their bodies in exchange for attention and acceptance. And for love. Ah, the ever-elusive “love.”

Love is the Item. Love enslaves millions. But what is love, really? Just some big, cosmic, chemical joke.