Hugh Behm-Steinberg
When Godzilla rose from the waters, he was condemned to death. Bullets and missiles were fired at him, but he carried their leaden war pieces in his colossal body as he marched inland toward the city of sacred money.

Upon seeing the stadiums of capital, and the groaning of the poor, their misplaced pride in those buildings, Godzilla cried liberation with atomic breath, and fell to his knees weeping.

Godzilla's mother appeared, she consoled him. Lifting his head, the roar was so deafening the people questioned all imposed testing regimes and austerities.

Against orders of the government, workers organized into unions, the unions lifted Godzilla to his feet, and wiped the blood and tears from his face; he thanked them. All who were with Godzilla thereafter walked away with a love of justice in their hearts and eyes that would glow in the dark.

They walked with Godzilla as he marched through the city, towards the capitol. In panic the capitalists and their political action committees called in their lobbyists, they denounced Godzilla with fury, they sued Godzilla and tried to bind him with arbitration. Once more Godzilla fell.

But from the ground he saw the people: the poor and disabled, the brave and cowardly, the young and old. They danced for Godzilla, and their dancing brought the sun out of its shelter and brightened the sky from its dark concessions. They did not need Godzilla to empower them, but they loved Godzilla nonetheless. Godzilla rose up one more time, stronger than before. He tore the veil of illusion, justice prevailed.

So the President and his chief executive officers prostrated themselves before Godzilla, they tore off their business suits to reveal black "I Heart Godzilla" t-shirts; hoping to save their privileges, they handed him all of their keys and a very generous package of stock options. They offered Godzilla a massive social networking presence, they offered him a seat at the table, they said they would ocularize the needs of Godzilla in their strategies, they would include his feelings in their metrics. They would make Godzilla a thought leader in hardware, supply chain management, and startups. They vowed to combine their entrepreneurial flair and talent for spotting new opportunities with Godzilla's passion to transform corporate culture and make great design a driver of innovation and change.

International commerce shall be revolutionized, they pledged. Traditional supply-chain models shall be disrupted, they promised. Together, they proposed, we may contribute to the success of many of the world's largest technology brands.

"Why choose death," they asked of Godzilla, "why walk naked when you can wear such beautiful clothes?"

But Godzilla rejected their entreaties. "I belong to the people," Godzilla shouted. "I belong to the world. I renounce your language and all it conceals: money and power, your devious clawbacks. I will go where I want, and you will understand every word I say."

He destroyed what needed to be destroyed, and then, garlanded with flowers he walked back into the sea, his exalted tomb, from which he shall rise at any moment, whenever it pleases him.