At Home with Mammon: A Q&A with the Lord of Avarice

Interviewer:
And with a gloriouse Light upon us this Daye we have a brandnew Interviewe with the illustriouse Mammon, Lord of Avarice, who hath graciously agreed to answer our many Inquiries, Interrogatives, and Questions. Mammon, I understand thou art the Personification of Moneys, Wealth—

Mammon:
Lucre, Scratch, aye. That is correct. That is us.

I:
Some Traditions even include thee as one of the Seven Daemons of Hell.

M:
[chuckling ruefully]
We cannot speak to that.

I:
Not even to chide? Not even to correct the Recorde?

M:
Nay, for one’s private Lyfe is one’s private Lyfe. We do not think that being a publick Figure means All is on the Table. Respectfully.

I:
Faire enough. Speaking of your public Lyfe, it seems thou hast been hobnobbing of late, even partnering, with some pretty major Figures. I have seen thy Name repeatedly pop up on the nightly News, and I am like, God’s bones, I was following that Guy back in the Daye, before his Popularity exploded. What hath it been like to experience such a late-Career Resurgence?

M:
A thousand Thanks. We love to see the original Fans—it warms the inner labyrinthine Chambers of our reptile Heart. But to speak to your Inquiry, yea, our Renown hath increased perhaps a dozenfold within this Century of Years, and even more so againe this past Decade. Never before hath the potent Name of Wealth so entranced the shiv’ring Hordes of Humanity.

We are proud and humbled to partner with the Leader of this Nation, who hath long championed our Worship, as well as with the Leader’s manifold Potentates and Princes, such as the one mighty Magus who came across the Sea, who repaired his ailing Hairline with various Unguents and Medicinals, and who built a veritable Army of automatic Chariots animated by the Power Electrick, as well as Cyber-Trucks. Him especially we honor. And he honors us.

I:
There is a Reciprocity there.

M:
There is. Whatever he does, he does so that our Name might increase.

I:
And should he cease—?

M:
[giving a tender little laugh]
He shall not. Naught else he hath but us, his truest and only Friende. He lives but to amass further Ducats, Doubloons, ha’-Crowns, &c.

I:
And what of the Rumours of late, that the Markets have begun to grow choppy like the Sea during a Nor’easter, and the Magus to see his vast Piles diminish as some of the lower Peasantry seek to uproot somewhat his Dominance by pressuring the Mighty to sell their electrick Chariots?

M:
Does the Raine diminish the Cloud? Perhaps, but only for a Moment. The Magus hath seen the merest thousandth Part of his Fortune scamper away, but it always scampers back. Wealth begets Wealth, and true Genius begets Wealth, as well.

I:
You speak of Genius. What of those who claime that the Magus and likewise the Leader of the Nation are no Geniuses at all, but merely floppy Jesters who have schemed their way into their Fortunes via various Wiles and Ruses? That both were born into vast Wealth, and that despite their endless Failson statuses, could not spend or spoil it all no matter how they tried, due to the begetting of Wealth by Wealth? Understand—I relate only a common Question, not one I personally hold to.

M:
Well asked, if insolently expressed. Allow us to clarify: By Genius we do not mean Greatness of the Wits or Intelligence of the Minde. For Wit and Intelligence are mere Tools, Attributes of some of the lower Classes who art employed and wielded by the Great, among whom we count the Magus and the Leader both. The Great rely upon the well-oiled mental Gears of these lower Cogs to enable their various Schemes and Stratagems, and this is in what true Genius consists: to get Others to perform Intelligence for you.

The actual Brains of the Magus and the Leader themselves may be as Mush, may be as the Excrement of the Canine, and when they speak aloud it may sound as if a great Horn hath been blown upon by the very Ass of a Carnival Clowne. But it matters not. For as the Cycle of Raine and Water endlessly repeats itself upon the Earth, so does the wealthy Man’s Boodle increase itself without End. And so shall we, Mammon, raise up those who honor us, even as their Acumen, their Intellect, and indeed their Personality wither away into Nothingness. Such Things are far overrated anyhow. Who giveth a Shitte? What matters is Power, and Power only.

I:
And what of your dating Lyfe? Seeing any-one new recently?

M:
We have witnessed a romantic Filme or two with the Gorgon Stheno, daughter of Phorcys. Black her Wings are, and of wild Snakes her Hair.

I:
Nice. The Lady hath a Hotness.