You have truly evolved. I bow down to you.
Dear and Nameless Supplicant,
Please, please arise from your awed and respectful genuflections, for no such show is necessary. Yes, in times past, I have demanded my fanatics, aficionados, and well-wishers demonstrate their inferiority and devotion through a stunning array of debasements which I now come to realize are far from enlightened. Shall kings lie prostrate—or supine—afore me? No longer! Shall devout monks blind themselves with 10-penny nails so as to obviate the threat of inadvertently meeting my regal eye over a tureen of au jus at the buffet? I shall request they do not! Shall lords, dukes, and presidents expose their shriveled hinds and genitals in order to best demonstrate their compliance to my will? I am very hopeful that this too shall cease.
How, you may wonder, have I come to be so enlightened? It was not by process of long self inspection, nor by having myself butterflyed and damp-roasted on a spit, nor by imbibing ibogaine toddies, nor through esoteric religious (or anti-religious devotions), nor even by way of a brief self-improvement seminar. Rather, Dear Readers, through the fleshy and faithful conduit of my sub-editorial staff, I have experienced the Coming of the Glory of the APE.
My editorial and sub-editorial staff took my banner to the fields of San Francisco's Concourse Exhibiting Center and bravely did battle at the Exposition of the Alternative Presses! All contests are symbolic; this we know. What is determined through violence may as well be determined through cleverness, or luck. For a being who is mightier than others on the arena floor has not proven their worth or their mettle. They have not shown that as a ruler they should bring greater prosperity to their peoples, more finely honed justice, happiness in abundance. No! All they have shown is that for one day, for one moment, they were victorious. And so all victories are equal. The diplomat and the soldier both protect nations, do they not? In this way my peoples did march upon San Francisco and diplomatize the hell out of all they saw.
The APE is a vast room in South Central San Francisco where once yearly artists and idolators, priests and apostates, artists and drunks gather to woo each other in earnest appreciation. My peoples were there and kept in constant contact with me through a clever and expensive communications rig disguised as the popular Squid Hat. Reports were delivered every fifteen minutes as to what beautiful art was seen, what strange peoples were encountered, and what competing deities may have been present. Many at the APE were drawn to my presence and felt compelled to wear my mantle upon their pates. Our cleverly disguised surveillance devices caught everything on proverbial tape.
Awash in the sea of humanity and ape-itude I realized that my methods had been too harsh, my demands too cruel. No longer should my worshipers and minions hobble themselves in devotion. APE had shown me love and love had shown me a new way (as is it love's wont).
And it was here, in the Fields of the APE, that I found a whole new way to receive my penitents and petitioners: Capped in my own Glorious Knitted Yarny Avatar! See here, plucked from our very security feeds mounted upon our glorious table photographic evidence of my spreading influence and might!
I Remain Lustily,
Your Giant Squid
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