…and with the world reasonably firmly in my grasp, I can explain a little bit about how this came to be. You’ll notice that I’m still wearing the mask and tights, although my identity is reasonably well-known. To be quite honest, I enjoy dressing up as a Villain. It’s campy and it’s corny and it’s silly and it’s part of why the Other New Council of Villains picked me in the first place. Mad scientists are hard to find, because getting the balance just right is quite difficult in the modern world. You have to be mad enough to have near-impossible ideas, but sane enough to base them on actual workable principles; likewise, you have to be sufficiently out-of-the-box to want to build death rays, and sufficiently capable of working within systems that you can spend years filling out grant applications.
Ah, I can see we’ve got some research applicants in the crowd here. Yeah, it’s a difficult system. Listen, keep applying, but seriously, if you’ve got research with serious implications for a techno-dictatorship, feel free to send an inquiry my way. I’m always looking to fund new and better ways of enslaving the populace.
Now, world leaders seldom do TEDEvil talks. Most of them stay in the shadows, pulling strings from afar, influencing events in a subtle and clandestine manner. Me, I’m not just talking because I enjoy talking, nor am I doing it because it’s a villain cliché. Both of those things are quite true, but I’m actually fulfilling one of the contractual obligations of The Pact, that not-terribly-mysterious document that I signed when I was recruited and began my path to power. Assuming that I successfully hold onto said power for at least ten years without going insane, getting assasinated, or generally acting like a horse’s nether region, most of the League’s private documents will be made public regardless. I mean, if nobody takes me out in that time, you clearly need an assist.
Now, this is the time where I feel I could be reassuring if I talk to you about the complexities of Good and Evil, how, while absolute moral relativism is both unrealistic and contains its own set of problems, each of the two aforementioned ethos is actually just a particular perspective, and though the world is now ruled by an evil madman, you can basically assume that what you thought was evil is an essentially a literary device, and that life under me will, in fact, be better than under your current system of governance.
I have no intention of saying any such things, since they’re probably not true, but if it will make you feel better about this whole situation, feel free. I don’t really care much one way or the other, to be honest.
No, I’m going to leave out pretty much all of the philosophy, all the moralizing, all the propaganda, and all the rest of that stuff, and I’ll just tell you how this happened:
Heroes.
I won’t get into histories—they’re just theories, really, no matter whose side you read—of what came first. All I will say is that a small cabal of particularly enterprising Alchemists who were, in general, keeping to themselves and searching for (what else?) The Philosopher’s Stone…well, they found that their nocturnal gatherings kept being invaded by these masked figures shouting something about “Righteousness” and “Evildoing”. At first, the Alchemists figured it was the Church, their old enemy. But through a certain secret knowledge (it’s not all that secret: one of the Alchemists was the Bishop. Religion was really interesting in the old days)—they were able to figure out that these were not necessarily arms of amy religious authority, but rather, independents. Freelancers, if you will.
Now, one won’t assign current-day thinking to the ancient, but even then, the Alchemists wondered why the Heroes were going after “people who were skulking about at night” rather than “those who were just lopping the heads off peasants during the day”. As years went by, and various spellcrafting wars broke out here and there, and assorted organizations became relatively complicated, there was at least one constant, which would not be figured out until centuries later: Crowley was trolling us all.
…but that’s a story for a different day. Let me back up:
Alchemists are a complex lot. It’s said they evolved into the chemists and other scientists of the current day It’s also said, more quietly, that some of them evolved into various Magickal orders. And some of them, rumour claims, evolved into organizations determined to take over the world. Ha, ha, ha! How ridiculous! What kind of organization would try to take over the world, except for absolutely anyone with a certain amount of power and a little bit of ambition?
Anyway, one thing remained a constant through the years: regardless of what kind of group the (semi)-former Alchemists belonged to, no matter what the actual goals of the organization, Heroes kept breaking in and beating them up.
Now, some of these proto-scientists were more than a bit wroth. More than a few of them were quite idealistic, and some of them had certain views not wholly out of keeping with modernity (if you’re already committing heresy, it’s not so hard to challenge a number of other societal assumptions, after all.) Many of them genuinely saw Alchemy as the key to curing illness, or defeating some of the horrors of old age. It’s safe to say that, in the midst of numerous overt misdeeds on the part of the general populace, it was, to put it as mildly as possible, really annoying that these crusaders were picking on them.
It wasn’t hard to figure out the reason: the Alchemists gathered at night, and were secretive in their doings, and also, not for nothing, they didn’t necessarily have a lot of backup. In short, they may not have been ideological foes of humankind, but they were soft targets. Take on the Deputy Mayor who’s been taking bribes to let medical quacks do outright harm? Seems difficult. Fellow’s got a bit of an army and all. Tackle the weirdos in that strange laboratory? There’s only, like, eight of them, and they’re mostly fairly scrawny…
Presumably, the Heroes didn’t see it quite like this, but to be frank, who cares what they thought? They aren’t the ones telling this story, and besides, they made a horrible mistake: messing with some of the first humans who were really fanatical about creating systematic efforts to refine parts of the world into purer forms.
And they realized that Heroes were the perfect grinding stone.
How many alchemical organizations were originally nefarious? I can’t say. I mean, I don’t know, and if I did know, I’d prefer not having my tongue cut out. Suffice to note that a certain number of them chose a particular path from that point forward.
Figure: You are part of an organization determined to rule the world. You know it will take centuries. How do you speed the process?
Destroy and rebuild. Destroy and rebuild. Get really skilled at surviving destruction, become highly trained in the art of rebuilding bigger, better, faster. Refine, refine, refine, refine.
Certes, the Heroes played no small role in this. Who goes forth, night after night, to punch and rend and burn down, without ever questioning why the same groups should chose to return to their clearly-doomed schemes time and time again? People who aren’t likely to spend too long analyzing the thought processes of their opponents in the first place. “They keep doing it because Villainy is in their hearts,” said the more philosophical of the Heroes; the less, philosophical, obviously, simply did more punching.
It took quite a while to bring together a workable solution for conquest. My own group was focused on technology (and be grateful; I’m biased, but those mind-control folks? They scare me) and we took quite a lot of time figuring out plenty of elements necessary. Death ray capable of taking out anyone on the planet? Check. And it’s adequately protected from those who’d try to find or destroy it? Check. Assorted complex protocols in the event of my death, including reasonable methods of deciding where and how to mete out proportionate punishment to discourage future assassination. Clear lines of succession? Check. Reasonable force-shielding for me? That’s not a part of the death ray technology itself, but it’s been pretty important; we’ve had most of this weapon since the 1950s, but a succession of spunky British secret agents kept shooting us in the head. That should be fixed now.
The World is mine; cower before me. Unless that’s not your style, in which case, do try to think of something terribly clever. As I suggested earlier in this talk, I do expect to be unseated (heavy is the non-metaphorical head which bears the primarily-metaphorical crown) but not until I’ve had some time to enjoy myself. I’d like to thank all the secret Masters of the Art who helped me ascend to this worldly throne, and I’d like to give a word of encouragement to whoever will come next: Be inventive, be creative, and be really good at what you do. While the Orders I represent are some of the more major conspiracies, there are a few dark horse candidates out there with a little less financing, but a little more out-of-the-box thinking. They’re both good paths, honestly. See what works for you. Either way, the terms are going to be similar: they’ll help you see if you can develop something which will both defeat me, and assert dominion over the planet. And then you stand up and tell the world what happened, which means that at least a small population will get to work on a means of unseating you, and we’ll have constant innovation, which will increase overall planetary wealth, which will mean that successive Solar Despots will be increasingly better-off. Today, I’ll be relaxing in a reclaimed Versailles; but I’d like to think that, within 50 years, some future monstrous monarch will make a comfortable home in a rebuilt Atlantis. Dare to dream, friends. Dare to dream.
For myself, I, having read my Frasier, have no intention of being the hunted God-King. I’m going to be reasonably laid-back and have a good time right up ’til I’m killed and/or deposed, and as a note: if you’ve got something really good, it would be great if you can just give me a thirty-second head start, and I will teleport to our space station, where I will live out the last of my days in obscene amounts of comfort. You don’t have to, but consider the precedent you set. It’s what you’ll want for yourself someday, right?
This press conference is officially at an end, and I shall begin my reign by binge-watching a number of spaghetti Westerns and eating a lot of snails. Don’t judge; you spend thirty years on the hard work of becoming planetary overlord, and you’ll find you really treasure the simple pleasures in life. World governments, kindly keep governing; I’ll let you know if I need an aircraft carrier or something.
All right! All hail me, first Emperor of Everything! Melvin, throw some snails on the grill and let’s do this.
My name is Jeff Mach (“Dark Lord” is optional) and I build communities, put on events, and make stories come into being. I also tweet a lot over @darklordjournal.
I write books. You should read them!
I put on a convention for Villains every February.
I created a Figmental Circus. It’s happening this June. You should go!
