The Human Side of TL Hutton: Insights Revealed
Explore the human side of TL Hutton as we delve into his insights and experiences. Discover what makes TL Hutton unique and relatable, offering a deeper understanding of his journey and perspective.
TL Hutton
7/7/20264 min read
Artwork courtesy Jumo Art
This is not the work that you, Dear Devoted Reader of my madness, have come to expect from me. Yet, despite any contrary notions, this is a part of me that many of you do not know exists—or have given the slightest inking of a notion as to humor the possibility of such a facet to my character. And that is fine. It is ok. At my potential incrimination, my work and views, let alone my convictions, do not make such an audit so effortless.
The following work is not a piece recently written. JA! No. This is a piece I had written back in my confused-still-trying-to-find-myself-as-a-writer high school days thirty-something years ago. I am still attempting to discern as to whether it is healthy that I have held onto original copies of everything I have ever written or not. Regardless, this piece, and the heart behind it, are still the same heart today.
This is not an inference into any relationship of mine, past or present. No. It is merely the thought process of a 14-year-old boy making a critical analysis of the world as he sees it. For love—well, too many apply labels to love. On what it is. Too many apply conditions to something they claim is “unconditional.”
And I believe that is where we, in general as a “civilized” society, went wrong, in so many respects.
WHAT IS LOVE: THE GREAT DEBATE OF THE HEART
AN ESSAY
BY
TL HUTTON
1992
Love—such an omnipotent noun.
Like a double-edged sword, love stands as the epitome of duality. The one side—wielded by the Honorable, the Dutiful, the Chivalric and Philanthropic—retains the sole authority to mend those deepest, most agonizing of wounds with a few kind words or a mere caring gesture. The other side—that of the Unscrupulous, the Remiss, the Misogynistic—it carelessly severs entire appendages with chaotic glee.
It merely depends upon who might be wielding that proverbial sword—and how it is that they elect to wield it.
However, that does not define what love is. If anything, such simply conveys some sense of that which love is capable of.
So—for the sake of that Great Debate of the Heart—what then is love?
The Ancient Greeks believed that love was culminated within a diversity of individual manifestations for every aspect of life: Eros, or the erotic love between a man and woman, husband and wife; Philia, that brotherly love of family and close friends; Agape, the unconditional divine love from above.
With his uncanny insight and understanding of the Human Condition, Shakespeare mused that “Love is madness, a mental disease; some it tortures, others it does not,” while Germany’s Voltaire romanticized that “Love does not dominate, but cultivates.”
The Hopeless Romantic would poise the argument that love was an elated and lofty nirvana, giving credit to that pudgy little cherub, Cupid, for piercing unsuspecting hearts with his quivers.
Within the musty pages of Dante Alighieri’s “The Divine Comedy”, Francesca de la Rimini, Soul of the Woeful Lovers, lamented from atop the pitch steppes of Purgatorio that love was “no greater misery than when in sadness remembering the happy times,” while in “Paradise Lost” Milton reflected that “Love, to itself does not care, but to another gives its ease, and builds a Heaven in Hell’s despair.”
Perhaps love is all of these things. Maybe it is none of them. Perhaps it is some unfathomed facet of both the Human and Inhuman Condition which is far beyond our simple human understanding.
Whatever it is that love might truly be, there is no definitive right or wrong answer to this age-old query.
For some it might be a passage from a favorite book that inspired them to reach new heights. For others it might be that lightning bolt CRACK! as hickory and leather collide on opening day at Wrigley Field. For some it might be a scent that stirs the nostalgia of a favorite childhood memory. For others it might be those coldest, darkest of moments just before the dawn when all the colors of the earth suddenly come alive, seem to glow like the freshly dyed threads of some magnificent Persian rug in a tapestry that only the Gods, and perhaps a handful of painters, have ever managed to weave.
Ever since mankind first clambered out of the primordial ooze, individual notions, beliefs, concepts of what love might be have proven the subject of debate. And until that day when civilization crumbles and falls back into that churning mire of cosmic nascence, it shall continue to be the topic of deliberation.
Yet, despite that Great Debate of the Heart, there remains a hard-wired universal ideology within the most primal reaches of the Human Condition that cannot be refuted.
Whatever it might be, love is that one thing which we always hold onto whether we see it, feel it, or not. That one thing which gives us hope. That motivates us. It is that intangible thing which leads us to trust in ourselves, to believe in ourselves, and pushes us to follow our hearts. It is that thing which helps us to overcome, improve, and endure.
Love—love is that which makes us Human.
Avondale, AZ 1992
GENERAL INQUIRIES
SUBMISSIONS
submissions@obsidianskullpress.com
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF | FOUNDER
tlhutton@obsidianskullpress.com
ARC GROUP
© 2025-2026 Obsidian Skull Press, LLC. All Rights Reserved
Ink & Shadows
Causes we Support
Obsidian Skull Press is dedicated to amplifying transformative narratives through the lens of marginalized global communities. We operate with integrity, transparency, and a fierce commitment to representation.
FOLLOW US
CONTACT US