Alice/Joo-won: Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?
Cheshire Cat/Ra-im: That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.
Alice/Joo-won: I don’t much care where –
Cheshire Cat/Ra-im: Then it doesn’t matter which way you go.
Alice/Joo-won: – so long as I get somewhere.
Cheshire Cat/Ra-im: Oh, you’re sure to do that, if you only walk long enough.
Oska: Do you think the human heart is some sort of vending machine, by which you can command a can of soda to pop out at the press of a button?
Is it right to program yourself to love someone?
Is it wrong to program yourself to love something?
Is it right to program yourself to love someone for the sake of something and wrong to program yourself to love something for the sake of someone? Or how about persons for persons and things for things?
But there are many kinds of love, a number of which every warm-blooded being and many an entity deserve unconditionally and a smaller quantity of which is owed to the more noble of souls and objects. Yet there are some types of love, of the most beautiful and spotless nature, that cannot be reduced to trading currency and that call for a commensurately dignified form of affection and care. Like art, such love can be replicated, but irrespective of the quality of craftsmanship applied to their reproduction, their doppelgangers are rarely deemed to hold a candle to them. In counterfeiting love in the name of true love, would one not risk tainting even the genuine love he pledges to the object of his heart’s desire? In other words, is not the employment of unscrupulous means to achieve an honorable end possibly a form of disrespect to the end itself? No less outrageous, obviously, would be the conversion of love of that esteemed quality into such instruments of deceit and delusion.
The A-Philosopher's Chair 