The amount that love has got to do with it is the same amount as what war is good for: ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.
Love, in fact, if you want to take the metaphysical view of things, doesn’t even exist. It is a series of chemicals and electrical impulses delivered between your neurons which make you imagine you feel something rather akin to the delicious, juicy steak Cypher eats when he asks to be reinserted into the Matrix. Ignorance is, truly, bliss. And also rather easy to fake.
