# Power is sugar

- Link: https://www.andreidraganescu.info/2017/04/03/power-is-sugar/
- Published: 2017-04-03T13:34:51+03:00
- Author: Andrei Draganescu

![](https://draganescu.files.wordpress.com/2017/04/3f29d-1ur00kbthgtuluhaayojt2a.
jpeg)

Peter Douglas Molyneux is the creator of Black and White. In a hot summer night 
I was left alone with a computer, coffee and this game. After about seven hours 
of gameplay, I remember walking in a complete rush into the bedroom, and waking 
up my wife shouting from the top of my lungs: I’m EVIL, I’m EVIL, oh my God babe,
I’m eeeeeviiiiiil!!!. I was so convinced: I was evil.

Three months in the snow for a random crowd. People literally freeze in support 
of a state secretary. A state secretary! A state secretary is a major beaurocrat.
No one ever got popular support in the street while being a major … beaurocrat. 
We should all hate these, right?. Yet, he is the first of his kind. But, few years
later, when 54 people died under his watch he walled himself behind the apparatus,
just like a true powerful bureaucrat. He was shown a fake working system and he 
chose to believe it.

Two lane strets fit two roman chariots with some room left to maneuver. I am stuck
in an two hour long trafic jam. Like the blessed breath you took when you challenged
your kid friends to the esteemed breath holding competition, so does my turn to 
make a right arrive. As I relax in the zen of moving away from the jam, suddenly
I realise there is a biker on the imaginary third lane. I press the pedal, off I
go, but wait! the biker dude screeches his wheels and, in a second, he zaps in front
of my car. I brake, I squeeze my hands on the wheel, I say unspeakable words about
the biker’s mom, my zen gets drained. However I keep a link open to the astral plane
and shift my mood to better terms with the dude. Increasing zen. Back in traffic.
A couple dozen meters ahead behold!, the asshole pops right back in front of me,
but this time: from the sidewalk! Break! Eschew! Swear! Breathe! Meditate! Curse!
There, there, easy boy. Deep breath. Wait a minute …

Power is an action. Power means you can do. If you cannot abstain from doing, and
when doing you do just because you can do, you are corrupt. But when power corrupts
you, it will be your most humanised moment in life, that moment when you willingly
and knowingly choke down your divine self and you act like the paranormal chimp 
evolution made of your big ape ass, a chimp who can, sees that it can and does simply
because it can, without any superior involvement of thinking or feeling.

Power corrupts.

In our everlasting sad blindness we believe that power is held by kings, presidents,
leaders of secret organisations, chief executives of bottomless multinational corporations,
Batman, Spiderman or their foes. In fact each of of us is powerful: that biker was
powerful because he had just two wheels and I had four, so he could roll on an imaginary
lane and on the sidewalk, and he did; the God I played was powerful because I got
freaking lighting spweing from my hands and zapping my adversary and I did; powerful
is the woman born with sex appeal because she gets unconditional attention and she
does; powerful is a gangster whose friends take him ahead with no merit and he gets
ahead; powerful is a priest who has a skill but behaves as if he has a gift.

What does being corrupt mean?

It means you break. You are no longer mind, body and soul, but solely a body with
half a mind. You ignore the other half of the mind and you send you soul to a long
walk, because who needs a soul?

Seriously, don’t you see, I can? I can! I can.

Humans like their power more than they like their good or their God.