Plus Commander-in-Chief, plus stuff

IQ tests for President

No I am not impressed that Donald Jay Trump could tell the difference between a bear and a monkey

6,185 nuclear weapons. Most lethal army in the Universe, yet known

Not that this Chess is particularly good, but it’s passably interesting to most casual players

My point is: Give me certified intelligent presidents, or give me… the White pieces. No, that was not racist, but maybe the pieces being Black and White, is, where White always moves first.

In the 1800s or whenever when they made the rule, they called it a convention. I call it racist. And, boring. Bad for chess generally. Go back to flipping a coin. Make it like it used to be, again, where Black can move first. There was nothing wrong with it. Really, I’m pretty sure there wasn’t.

Queens go on their own color square… they said it was out of chivalry

I say it’s sexist. Mix that up as well, make it the player’s option. Why not.

Debbie Downer for President

Bishop? Is it a Hindu Bishop? An atheist bishop? A Unitarian Universalist Bishop? What, btw, is a mitre?

King’s cross? A Christian Cross? Oh

Queens can be made from pawns, but they must be sacrificed for the King occasionally, never the other way around? That’s not just sexist, that’s creepy,

It’s also what real life Kings and Queens were about sometimes, too. Lots of kings killed their queens, or ignored them, or bartered them for other guys’ wives, or daughters, or even queens, or who knows what else. They were Kings. Queens did not do this to their Kings; or, if they did, it was very rare (Hatshepsut)

They (Queens) are also the most powerful piece in the game, which means they do all of the work. Oh, women doing all of the work is new. It’s also so chivalrous. Does she do the Bishop’s laundry, too? Powder his mitre?

The King can have up to nine Queens, in theory? That’s sexist

It’s also akin to spousicide, or whatever. And, polygamy.

They say guys tend to gravitate toward Chess more than women do

Well, no shit

Also, you know they only let us know the bear-monkey test results because anything more complex, and we would have started to want a real score. Then we’d have found out he’s actually not that bright.

Then, his mythos COLLAPSES. As in, game over. People can overlook your crazy as being maybe brilliant 5D chess. When they find out you’re not really that bright, and are actually just calling yourself a genius while playing fuck-fuck games with them and golf on their dime, things change.

The brilliant, almighty real U.S. deep state fools us again!

We were literally saying “Wow! How can they do just that? It doesn’t make sense! Why can’t they do a real test? Don’t they wanna know?” No, idiots, he’s a bowl of salad. He is Putin’s fucktard puppet. He golfs. And, not that well, which is why he cheats, like at everything else. Dumbass.

You could have said we didn’t fight hard enough for a more comprehensive test. The real U.S. deep state didn’t even give us a monkey-bear test, though, really. It gave us a big, fat, fucking middle finger.

If it had declared Donald Trump mentally capable for having defecated after being given his applesauce and cookies after the blood test, that would have been more honest with the American people as to what the real U.S. deep state was saying to us, when it gave us the ‘results’ of the bear-monkey test.

We’d NEVER have forced him to take a test. Just like we were never able to force him to provide his tax returns. Why? He’s not that smart, and the deep state has to over that up, because it conflicts with the myth that he’s a genius playing 5D chess. No, he is not a genius, nor is he playing anything for you. He is, as Bill Maher says, a vessel for fried chicken.

I’m not saying that Donald Trump isn’t intelligent, and I’m not saying that people who think he’s intelligent, aren’t intelligent for thinking he might be. No; I don’t think he a genius, and I see no evidence of it. If he possesses genius, then it’s as a marketer. It is as a salesman, being bold. I couldn’t stand the barking sound of his voice, and the hate speech and the misogyny I found revolting, but I did appreciate there was a certain hypnotic cadence to it, especially when he was being jovial, and was in a better mood. Once, I listened to one of his three-hour speeches at a rally, as I fell asleep in bed to it. I knew I was listening to PSYOP. That made it okay; in fact, I was intentionally doing it for entertainment. And, it worked; I giggled myself to sleep. He can be, in very small ways, a genuinely funny person, even somewhat endearing. His honesty is appealing. It’s just that he’s also really a racist, but he will never come out and say that. At least, not until he’s seized total power. And, that’s looking like it’s never going to happen. Which is good.

Laugh or cry; it’s one or the other option. No in-between, with this one. It’s all PSYOP of course, warm off of the Russian military, or whatever, presses. Heated and put in a bottle for easy consumption by hungry, crying Milk & Cookies, and even Paper, Americans, needing their next fix. Because rallying is what Commanders in Chief in a time of overall global calamity, and a pandemic, do best.

All PSYOP. Designed to make you enjoy being infantilized, and BE infantilized. Putting pressure on you to laugh, or maybe actually getting you to really enjoy it, about stupid dumb shit on-camera that you’re going to be embarrassed about in fifteen years, or preferably one, and even better now. In that sense, it’s even a form of kompromat: Abuser: “You can’t admit you’re wrong, and that I gamed you, and hard, because that would be you admitting you’re fucking stupid.” But, that’s FALSE. To find out why, keep reading.

I mean, this is potty humor. Literally. The woman of color is not laughing. You and I may not know who she is, or why she’s there, and it’s clear she’s a supporter. But, she’s NOT laughing. Not much, and not hard.

I’m telling people these days when I can, if you fell hook line and sinker for the Trump Train, but are mortified to admit it, don’t be: It is the bravest and most patriotic and empowering thing you can do. It is patriotic in the sense that you really should come out, and tell people you were HAD. They’ll respect your courage, and you for it, and maybe follow your example, and that’s how we win and heal, and that’s why it’s patriotic. Everyone who comes out of a cult, has to go through that process. This stuff was a military-grade-weapon assault, and they’re still deploying it. HE’s still deploying it. All these jokers who aren’t denouncing the Big Lie? Yeah, that’s conspiracy to sedition, because it incites revolt. They’re also government employees deploying PSYOP against the American people for political gain, which is a form of war, and is illegal. It’s also a form of stochastic terrorism, because some rational outcomes are going to be violent (war rarely isn’t). As for the brainwashing part, well, the science is complicated, and they attack from all different ways and tactics. But, bombardment– what we are most familiar with when we talk about brainwashing– is real, just like all of the other tactics are. You CANNOT be told the same thing over and over in an echo chamber for four years, where there are no apparent consequences for your assailant for his or her lies, and not become brainwashed by it, even not begin to worship it. I’m being serious. You worship it because it seems supernatural; it seems like it’s not affected by the normal rules of politics, or whatever. That opens a portal to a magical universe, if you really throw yourself at it. That’s when you start becoming really susceptible to horrific nightmares like Q. If you had the bad luck of being a loyal Republican, or a real conservative, or just part of a family and/or workplace where everyone went Trump-town, that would have made it even more difficult. And, the fact that that polarization– the real U.S. deep state’s infrastructure of oppression, to include your poverty; your lack of healthcare; your aging parents you don’t know how you’ll care for, etc.– was even there to exploit in the first place, again, was like a trap that caught you. I could have been caught in it; I’m special only in the sense that, in many ways over the course of my life, I’ve gotten special training I wasn’t even seeking out, from very important books I was required to read in Middle School, to 80s movies I saw on afternoon television I suspect may have been US Government White PSYOP, to joining the 82nd Airborne, and living next door to the largest collection of Nazi daggers in the world. My friends losses were light, because I don’t get out much. But, it did hurt my business. It did hurt my friendships. It did threaten some relations with family.

You were BRAINWASHED by a military-grade weapon, deployed in a real military operation. The seventeen intelligence agencies were not fucking kidding, and we’re all still a bit lucky to be here. For 546,144 of us, it’s too late, but America is resilient. It’s not your fault that it happened. At least, the PSYOP part, is NOT.

But intelligence is a different cookie altogether, in that there’s lots of ways to measure it. I think that Donald Trump is VERY intelligent, in some ways. And, in others, I think he has about as much fundamental potential for growth as any person. He’s not fundamentally, dumb. But, he’s so FUCKING LAZY and PRIVILEGED, that he never really exercises his brain. And THAT, my friends, CAN make you a little stupid.

Donald Trump doesn’t really care about anything that really matters. There’s a reason he said he couldn’t understand the soldiers’ sacrifice, probably. He basically said, “I can’t understand why anyone would die for their own children and wives. I can’t understand why they fought the Revolutionary War. I can’t understand why they would not want another man, the leader or king, being theoretically able to legally rape their own wives (Caligula, King Longshanks) or being able to cut their hands and feet off (Bad King John), if he wanted to.” If he was being honest, then it is a STUNNING admission of tragic soul-emptiness, hollowness. As in, “I don’t get Jesus Christ. LIKE, AT ALL. Like, the guy’s a fucking alien to me. Died, despite his power. Died FOR OTHERS… wtf? Said the greatest thing a man could do for a friend is lay down their life. Resurrected? Give me a break. Of course it’s bullshit, and the reason people believe it is one of the reasons why I’m here. Both indirectly, AND directly.” The man basically admitted that he was a COWARD, but likely is so morally impoverished that he wasn’t even capable of recognizing that that’s what he was saying. Assuming it wasn’t all just dropped Russian PSYOP, or anything. Assuming he really meant it, and made the mistake of saying it out loud.

Checkmate!
Fascists don’t want women to be free. But, that’s when women SHOULD be the most fun.

Look, I am no dating coach by any means, but I am confident in stating a few simple things boldly. My sincere apologies if I fuck up, like maybe having speculated out loud the other day that most men don’t know that frequently the best way to solve an argument with a woman (whom they know intimately, of course) is to unzip their fly and wave their dick around. Is that sexist to say that? I was not suggesting that they might not have a great point, I was suggesting that, shouldn’t we check first, before going down that rabbithole that way, that it’s really worth it, and can’t be solved with humor? Never expose yourself in public or around people whom you don’t know, that is called a sex crime, and it sticks. Even getting caught by a police officer just pissing behind the wrong dumpster can get you nailed for it. They don’t teach you this in school. No, it did not happen to me. But, it sure could have. If it had had, White privilege to the rescue… hopefully? Which is stupider, not being able to discreetly piss behind a dumpster, or the White privilege that gets you off from under it? I also do not recommend doing it with women who are seriously pissed off; you might just get shot or stabbed, even if she has seen your dick before, and liked it.

I think that about covers that.

Otherwise, it means you’re disturbed, and maybe even a psychopath. Fascists don’t like strong women who challenge them, and who might show them up, or reject them, maybe even make them face who they really are a little, give them a chance to improve or correct it, because maybe it was never really fundamental to them to begin with, but something they learned in, oh, say, school. That thing they were forced to do for thirteen years, and which they probably have lots of bad memories from (of course, as well as some good ones, too), and which they probably often hated going to. From elementary and middle school teachers who, everywhere all around the country, ARE women. Tired women. Commanding women. Overworked, detached often from not being “present” for the child or children, stern authority figures. Another deep state cubbyhole that causes problems, because the children often don’t get to see those teachers interacting with men very seriously, or they basically just boss the young substitute teachers who are men, along. I know, because at one point I was one, and it sucked. Substitute teachers have zero power. In the Army, I knew I had no deep value or worth to my commanders, but at least I felt respected. As a man substitute, women administration will often try to help you along… sometimes. Men Administrators? Most just ever walked right past me. Almost all of them were White, too; and, often unusually tall, just like generals are. Those men, at least, I snickered to myself, I wasn’t legally required to salute. And, a few of them, I didn’t. A few of them, finally did get to hear a piece of my mind. Of course it resulted in my effective firing, first from a school here or there, and then, I suspect, from the system altogether. Assisted, I suspect, by loyal, fascistic women. Disinterested, insecure, apathetic cunts whom, in retrospect, I never should have trusted with my time, much less my Chess club. Before they closed the program on the kids I’d gotten excited, and whom I’d trained from checkers-throwers to chessboard assassins, the very next year.

Elsewise they are resignedly and dutifully taking orders from… men in Administration. Men teachers, society it seems suggests, just don’t make enough to be what’s called “economically attractive.” Or, if they do take the jobs, they don’t stay there, but use it to jump into administration. At any rate, regarding the hurt feelings, boo hoo. Like we haven’t all been there before. It looks like this guy totally blew his chances, and Devin/Devon probably won’t be back again. But, who knows. She seemed to have a fun time on that bed. The stocked wine cabinet. Lots of places to run around, crawl, and air-guitar in. Comfy couch. Good sound system, though poorly-grounded. Probably very good air conditioning, and climate control. Compliant slave. Very, very secure. Et cetera.

What, do you prefer women’s company this way?

Now, I don’t know if she sent in her support check last year, or if she’s been keeping her membership card updated, and I don’t know (for certain) her specific politics, or his; but, I’m guessing the woman smoking the cigarette in this scene would probably qualify as antifa

An excellent example of a rich White couple with serious growing personal, professional, legal and reputational problems developing because, in part, of their privilege, fame, power, wealth and Whiteness, and their dead former daughter’s association with terrorism, where those two adults REASONABLY work out their problems maturely in the kitchen, etc. is Caprica. There are serious arguments between the primary husband and wife in Caprica. But, never once does he threaten to hit her. Though, in one scene, the director does make it seem as if he might not just hit her, but murder her. Instead, he just puts his hand in her hair, and moves it around. Before they start arguing and yelling at each other again. He also never throws anything in the movie, to include never pounding his first, or using his voice piercingly, like a weapon. Makes sense in a way, because he’s a billionaire CEO in charge of commercially marketed virtual reality space hardware (“holobands”), and the occasional Top Secret military industrial complex contract. Not only is he used to getting his way, he is used to using reason and calmness to think things through, and find real solutions.

Caprica is a deep state TV series with FAR greater focus on the corporate side than the government side, with a focus on corporate and military industrial complex subversion of government; long-term virtual reality/videogame addiction; covert human data mining for “optimized/customized end-user experience” and profit; and, it also addresses religion in deep states, as well as explores concepts of AI consciousness and autonomy. It is indispensable viewing for 21st-century adults, in my opinion. It is also the most serious, humorless work of series fiction I have ever seen. If you watch it, be ready for that. Right out of the gate. You might get a weird, sinking feeling two or three episodes in, you can’t quite put your finger on. By the end of the eighteenth episode, you might be having a drug-free psychedelic experience. I binge-watched it, couldn’t tear my eyes away. When it was over, I felt sick, and almost a little raped, mentally. And, not because I’d stayed up so long. It was definitely enlightening.

This is also not a recommendation that you try watching it, that way. I fact, you almost certainly should not. It was how I needed to watch it at the time. Watch it however you want, if you watch it at all. That way will have been exactly how you should have watched it.

I’m aware that being convincingly trapped in time might make you think you’re a god. My advice? Don’t drop acid; or, if you do, do it on the ground floor. With people who love you, and who have rope and handcuffs, plus preferably one large open-minded, but skeptical, man, or two, who didn’t think it was a good idea to begin with, In a building that preferably has no windows, or egress. No, you are not Smaug, the Magic Dragon. Plus, if you jump out of that window, you will be a dead Smaug, the Magic Dragon, because the fact that you were once a person won’t actually matter the fuck anymore…

Eighteen episodes. Not a single funny joke or remark is spoken, and it is clear that the Director is excising all GENUINE humor on purpose. It is serious, serious stuff.

Serious stuff. But, thankfully, for now still fiction.
Not fiction; history. And, a really bad one. Real people, just as intelligent as we are and perhaps FAR more serious, just without iPhones, dying and killing each other not for money, but for their dignity, and frequently for their lives.

“His punishments were cruel: the starvation of children, crushing of old men under copes of lead. His court was a brothel where no woman was safe from his royal lust. He laughed at priests during his coronation. Hell is spoiled by the fouler presence of King John.”

Written by J.R. Green in 1875, reproduced from the writings of a medieval scholar

“Two contemporary commentators comment upon his [Bad King John’s] rapacity and avarice; that he wouldn’t pay his soldiers, but seemed very keen to make as much money out of everyone there as he could. So, right from the beginning, avarice, greed is certainly one of the characteristics they pick up. They say they “hope he will improve as he gets older; he’s just a lad [18 years old], after all.”

“The real troubles that beset that family were caused largely by his father’s love for John, and his father’s wish to provide for John, a wish which left behind a trail of people who felt themselves to be disinherited in the interests of the youngest son of the family.

“Things would never change. Regardless of how much his father tried to help him, John’s appetite for power would always outweigh any sense of loyalty to his father… it does testify to a terrible lack of loyalty to his father… and, in the end, it was the son he loved who betrayed him.”

This is a serious documentary (above), and a short one. If you don’t know the story, prepare to maybe learn something about lots of things. This absolutely was a deep state of its time, and a greatly feared one.

Don’t let the poor-audio-quality, slightly silly music in the beginning chase you off; it’s just for a few seconds.

The 2011 British action adventure war movie, Ironclad, is loosely, but still quite accurately in many ways, as the military notes DO still exist, based off of John’s last military campaign. Though he ultimately won the battle in real life, unlike as portrayed in the movie, the victory was a Pyrrhic one. It cost him too much, including his health, and preluded a swift fall, and then death from illness, at a fairly young age. Dying in bed, he was scrambling here and there, with novel requests and commands, to get his papers cleaned up; and, most importantly, his soul prepared for the Christian afterlife. It’s funny, how deep statists often don’t care about the possibility of Hell, until it might be time to actually go there. It, in a way, is a fitting end when it happens, I would imagine, as it kind of represents their whole lives: Wait, I want my baby rattle, I’ll start working on what matters later.

His was an attempt to recapture, by siege, Rochester Castle, a critical bastion of geographically unsacrificeable importance (check that deep state: Yes, unsacrificeable is a word, and WordPress doesn’t like it). Holed up in it were some nobles who’d signed the Magna Carta; lots of other soldiers and castle-keepers from all walks and trades, and level of responsibility, who got caught up in the shit [the term I use for the drama created by deep state warring, and counter deep state warring]; and, some (presumably morally-aligned) Templar Knights, who’d had enough of the Crusades, and the bullshit. Heaven starts to become even more abstract, I’d imagine, when one actually starts to see people’s heads cut in half, and off, in front of you. Et cetera. While these deep state motherfuckers are counting their growing stacks of money, and admonishing you to never have sex, or love anyone but, um, Christ.

By some cosmologies, it might even mean you’re in Hell. Or, at least, Purgatory.

As in, the real thing.

They’re just as potentially dangerous now as they were then. If not, in some still-symmetric, and asymmetric, ways, far more so. And, as ruthless. And, as fucking serious. And, clever and deceptive as hell. They will help you win a second world war, but don’t ask for too much after at. They’re the reason we had the DDR (East Berlin, Deutsche Demokratische Republik) and the Berlin Wall. Truman, pretty much a yes-man and seduced by the thrill of victory and probably a form of racism towards Stalin, Stalin utterly played him. Truman fucked up those negotiations, and probably shouldn’t have dropped the bombs, either. A detonation in the ocean would have worked to end the war with an immediate surrender. They were already trying to surrender, but with some terms. We wanted no terms (unconditional surrender). We also wanted to test it. That’s right, on human populations. I estimate approximately 6,000 babies under the age of one, and in utero, died.

We’ve also been arrogant and reckless assholes towards them (Russia), too. Deep state shit all over the place, there. It WAS the Cold War. Khrushchev was the sane one in pulling out missiles in my opinion; NOT Kennedy.
In this song, I believe Cash is portraying himself (fictionally, of course) as God, possibly still mourning the loss of his precious Son on the Cross, and is reprimanding all those aligned with evil; and, yes, morally-misaligned deep states (powers and principalities), for their refusal to chase in life what matters, and to go after riches and pleasures of the flesh. instead.. comprised, literally, from his “empire of dirt.”

Dirt is a Biblical concept. Mentioned in Genesis and often referred to throughout the Bible as “dust,” it represents the dust of the Universe, all or most of it forged in stars. It will mostly get swallowed up by stars some day, too; then, get thrown back into the Universe like so much rice at a wedding, when those future stars die. Wash, rinse, repeat. Your one and only life, though, whatever it is, at least in its current form, won’t.

The “I hurt myself today,” I suspect, is God (Cash) lamenting he needed to let Jesus die. To God, that sacrifice was probably crucial, unavoidable. But, it might also mean a lamenting of all pain that we needlessly inflict on each other; I would suspect, by at least some of the lyrics, that Cash was once a heroin user at one point in his life. The “needle” referenced in the song may also refer to the Roman’s sword that pierced Jesus’ side.

Ephesians 6:12

New International Version

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

I’m not saying billionaires in this country are murderers just because of their obscene amount of fucking money, but some of them kind of almost are. I’d consider Jeff Bezos to possibly be a stochastic terrorist, and not just through the money offense alone. I hear he treats his employees like dirt; and, his money is stifling this country like a boot on a neck. The White guy with the goofy face and big ears is also not really donating to charity, I don’t hear. “Not in his wheelhouse,” I heard some White woman spokesman for him say, chipperly, just a few months ago, in this pandemic. Not in his wheelhouse, huh? Sucks up 7 million dollars out of our economy an hour, 365/7, into his private little hands which want to build a racist sweat lodge in space (not fund NASA), and we can’t do anything about that. Yeah, this Christian is really fucking impressed. By all of that money. Come to think of it, I’m so impressed, I might want to take it.

Ironclad is a 2011 British action adventure war film directed by Jonathan English. Written by English and Erick Kastel, based on a screenplay by Stephen McDool, the cast includes James Purefoy, Brian Cox, Kate Mara, Paul Giamatti, Vladimir Kulich, Mackenzie Crook, Jason Flemyng, Derek Jacobi, and Charles Dance.

It happened a bit with Chess, too. Yes, Fischer was correct in the interview, they play a cutthroat kind of off-the-board chess. But, it’s just a fucking game. Even if it was tied to their national identity very closely, as I would assume it’s not as closely associated with them now (even chess is a physical and time luxury past a certain point). And, Fischer had lots of reasons to distrust them, and to be bitter, and to be bitching about all kinds of other things that the Russians were in part responsible for, being so influential in the game itself, but also about things that the Russians had absolutely no control over. Plus all of the international politics thrown in, and his fear of having his plane blown up in-flight (not known until years later) it made for a toxic, ugly brew. The biggest travesty, however, is that Spassky was a really cool person, and a gentleman; and, as Fischer later said (after he’d won, of course)– because he’d never played Spassky in more than a qualifier game or two, and not under such formal tournament conditions– that Spassky was in a league of his own. Not quite as good as Fischer, but leagues past the others. But, during the match itself, Fischer treated him like shit, and psychologically abused him. Now, from a certain perspective, I can understand that. But, from a gamesman’s perspective, I don’t care that Fischer was the “underdog,” or the “product of capitalism.” All I saw was one gamesman being a prick back to another one who probably, kind of really didn’t deserve it at all.

Scene traumatized me for years. I suspect it was designed to. I was around ten. I continue to choose to not watch the movie to this day. A lot of people might laugh at that, when I admit that I would finally get over, in adulthood, my childhood fear of re-watching Glickenhaus’ The Soldier (1981), another movie I suspect Hollywood and, let’s just say, Washington may have intentionally designed (and aired on free public television during afternoon cartoons) to be traumatic, and to impress on younger generations how dangerous our ideological adversaries might be. But, eh. Personal things. I love The Soldier, now. There are some pretty bad, gruesome scenes in it. But, in Red Dawn, I think they’re worse, even if they may not be quite as graphic (but just as gruesome). Not the least of which is that the people being killed, and doing most of the killing, were mostly very young adults, or legal kids. That doesn’t happen at all in The Soldier. The Hunger Games and Divergent, in a way, are similar, in that I’m watching kids kill each other, but there’s a kind of fiction to it that detaches it from reality just enough. There is no other movie, that I know of, like Red Dawn (1984). And, the cast is sterling. Every big teen actor you can imagine of the day. Watch it– if you can.

That reminds me of something I wanted to mention. We should be careful we don’t go too far down the Q rabbithole, because do you know what that will technically authorize? Pentagon using good PSYOP on us, to brainwash us back. It’s a rare caveat, but’s it’s legal. If the country might fall otherwise, it’s legal. Whether we’d necessarily know if it was happening to us or not, it would be legal. But, it’s never really good to be subjected unwillingly to PSYOP, whether it’s Black or White or Grey. You’re going to have to work very hard if you think the United States will fall to some bullshit cult. Trump was a political cult, and that’s one thing; but, normal people should know that Q is nonsense. For the most part. It probably borrows 5-10% of itself from fact… I have no idea with that guess, but it’s probably a VERY low percentage. What I’m saying is that it’s DESIGNED to be titillating. People who can’t figure out that Q is dangerous, take cult to a new level. One that will not destroy the United States, home of, among other things, 6,187 functional nuclear weapons. Minus, two. Those two, will never stop functioning. Those two, will bomb away, for the rest of Time. It is perhaps not fully ironic that only through mass killing can an atomic bomb attain eternal life.

“As he witnessed the first detonation of a nuclear weapon on July 16, 1945, a piece of Hindu scripture ran through the mind of Robert Oppenheimer: “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds”. It is, perhaps, the most well-known line from the Bhagavad-Gita, but also the most misunderstood.

“The line, from the Hindu sacred text the Bhagavad-Gita, has come to define Robert Oppenheimer, but its meaning is more complex than many realize.”
By JAMES TEMPERTON for WIRED
09 Aug 2017
https://www.wired.co.uk/article/manhattan-project-robert-oppenheimer

Another outstanding documentary from my archives:

Didn’t have a college degree, the only one in the 20th century not to. Didn’t start his political career until 40, life was more or less a failure, and he had no direction. Great material for a wartime President? Almost certainly, no. Yes, miracles happen. We all want to believe in the American Dream, and a rags to riches story. Pick-me-up-by-your-bootstraps-winner, whatever we want to call it. That’s why persistent, strong-nostalgic myths like those, without strong critical analysis to verify them (back them up), can be extremely dangerous., by clouding rational thought and judgment This wasn’t one of those. This was just well-played, and accidental, politics.

I strongly suspect the two bombings were unnecessary war crimes, but this guy wasn’t going to say no to the Military Industrial Complex deep state. He would have generals he would need to keep in line, after the wars, one of which was the only 5-star general in American history, to my knowledge: Eisenhower.

His Administration was also marked by corruption.

War crimes against the Japanese is “traditionally” considered to be almost an oxymoron, because the Japanese, or at ‘least’ and more specifically indigenous Japanese of 1945 or so, were infamous for their vicious, sadistic and sometimes fickle, brutality on the battlefield, coupled with a supposedly undeniable conviction to fight to the last man. Well, Japan surrendered to those fucking bombs, remember. Effectively, immediately. Unconditionally. I say, it wasn’t for lack of imagination. You want to see the face of Hell, of Satan, of God all mixed together? I’d imagine you might need to witness the detonation of a real atomic bomb to get that experience. In real life. Then again, don’t. It must be a spiritual experience. Fuck rollercoasters. Fuck everything. I never have. I’m fairly sure I don’t need to. When a bona fide genius scientist and killer as serious as Oppenheimer is already knowing in advance he’s going to become born again, and figuring out which quote of Scripture, and from which faith’s text, to make famous in the press, consider it awesome.

It is power in its purest form that I, as a regular, everyday civilian, assume I am allowed to be aware exists on Earth. The mere threat of unleashing it can command superpowers far larger to withdraw.

Either Little Boy (dropped on Hiroshima 06AUG1945) or Fat Man (dropped on Nagasaki 09AUG1945) suddenly blowing up off of the coast of Tokyo, shock and awe at just the right time with maximized ability to witness and videotape, and everybody seeing it, immediately followed up by a list of realistic targets being considered (Hiroshima presumably was always the preferred target city), but with the actual city kept secret, I suspect, would have commanded unconditional surrender. Even if it’s true that we only had two bombs, either could have been the demonstration. I’m sure there were places in the ocean that would have been nice to hit as well, such as a place, say, where three or four battleships were located, just to prove it was a real bomb, and not just boil up the water. A small military island could have been sufficient to impress upon them, when they had to wait a day or so for the glowing glass to cool where used to be sandy beaches, that we were not fucking around.

Instead, it was a fucking mess, where the whole world was horrified, even Americans, and where instead of news journalists and scientists and military generals bragging of their power (and, morality!) and working overtime, priests and doctors were; and, journalists were kept out, because the whole city was radioactive. What a missed opportunity for moral shock and awe: where a huge number of people who saw it, died instantly; the others died slowly or fast; and no one really cared what it looked like, because they were attending to babies whose bowels were melting out of their anuses. Again, I suspect the military may have known this, and I suspect it was a black op to test it on civilian populations. But, just know: If that were the case, then it might very well be why the postwar postures of America, and all of the former powers, were so awkward, costly and painful.

I suspect now, even more strongly, that a golden opportunity for people to witness and survive the first detonation was missed. From a more modern PSYOP perspective, where we learned in Korea and Vietnam– but, not from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, for some reason– that often the best way to win battles was to convince the enemy to not fight them in the first place, I’d say that opportunity was missed, to end the war with visual shock and awe, plus some evidence left behind afterwards, as to what the bombs could do.

For example, the theoretical battleships. Those don’t matter to the immediate shock and awe, but they will later, and it’s a bonus. *Poof*, gone. Three or four battleships, literally melted pancakes sitting on the ocean floor, preferably in shallow waters, where the world can see the pancakes. They don’t quit, after that? Maybe I can understand the second bomb being used against civilians, because that was mostly what those two towns were, despite the cities’ populations’ strong connections to the military. Tokyo would have been washing up with dead radioactive fish, by the way, for six months. I’ll just stop talking, now.

Such a theoretical second bombing would have had to have been of a civilian population; almost certainly, Truman’s military was correct about that. I’m sure the U.S. military was correct about a lot of things; but, I’m not convinced of its morality. Nor am I convinced of its necessity. Which, let’s face it, in terms as serious as the crucible of war, are two concepts which truly do fuse to become one and the same.

If we’d have used the bombs to destroy an army of ten thousand soldiers holed up on some island somewhere, like hitting a nest with wasp spray, so that Americans in biosuits could go in? I don’t think the Japanese military leadership– Emperor Hirohito himself may have thought differently– would have blinked an eye. Ultimately, I think, it was love of their own cultural preservation, and of each other in that way, that got them to resign.

So much talk of Queens saving the day, my my

Fuck Wonderland, we’re leaving this one-trick universe

On a one-trick pony I kept for the occasion,

No ticket needed, just hop on on

Fuck the racist enemy operator in the first train

Fuck the racist enemy operators flying helicopters (I don’t mean the lying press)

Fuck the ones in their trucks, who let me out in the first place

Fuck Debbie Downer, and nuclear winter

Fuck the racist enemy operators with their long guns (police are nice, the people who send them out aren’t always)

Fuck the racist enemy agents with their parachutes, horses, et cetera

Threatening knights at f5 won’t work, here… even very angry, rearing ones

Fuck the little aluminum carriage it rode in on, too

Fuck the racist Black Pieces, come to think of it, entirely

You may not win this, Sam I am,

Red Rook at h1 to h8, CHECK!!!
warning, some graphic battle content

I know, you say, Fuck man, I hate you, you don’t like Trump. I should want to kill you, what the fuck do I do??

What you do is realize what you want, first. Then, get it.

1) You don’t care about me enough to kill me, at least not in a normal universe. It’s also really against everything you’ve been told. I’m an American, on paper, if nothing else. You are, too. I’m also a veteran. There might be lots of things I could analyze that might help me determine how serious you are about actually being American in spirit, at least from my perspective. And, vice versa. But, the general rule is, if I’m an American, and especially if I am a veteran, then you should respect me. Simply because you are an American on paper, and because that usually tells me certain things about you I can rely on, I respect you, likewise. I mean, we both grew up saying the same pledge 12,000 times, right? Most of us, even, say that we believe in the teachings of Jesus Christ, and in Jesus Christ himself as our personal Lord and Savior. But, I’m also worried you might be going nuts. I need to protect people I love who don’t have the experience, wisdom or luxury to be able to tell the difference. I MUST stand up for my truth, even if it’s wrong. So, I guess what I’m really asking you to do is reassess whether my truth is so dangerous to you that you should kill me for it. There’s more to it.

Look, I’ve done the soldiering thing. Just because you think I maybe should be killed, doesn’t mean I don’t respect your sense of conviction, and it doesn’t even necessarily mean I believe you’re wrong. Don’t expect me to let you kill me, however, under any circumstances.
2) Trump, that millionaire pro-choice real estate developer from Manhattan (New York, New York); married three times, and now to a Yugoslav/Slovenian supermodel; owns a name-branded helicopter; settles nondisclosure agreements to hush up affairs to the tune of $300,000; and whom, of course, you should feel you have a natural, bosom connection with, told you you wanted to kill me. Things that make you go, hmm. The fucked up thing is that I’m actually from New York, too (central Long Island, left when I was around 13 to come South). In normal times, I’d be asking you to help me improve my bass fishing game, or something.

3) What you really want is not to kill Random #32,755,636 (me), but get everything you’re not getting, like high-speed rail across this country. Demand it. I’ll be right behind you. Demand they make you build it, for $55 an hour, or $155 an hour, plus pensions two generations out. I’ll be right there, too. And, whereas I might not actually help you build it, I might be tempted to, and just might. Computers are everywhere anyway (that’s my official, non-soldiering trade/vocation). And, regardless, there’s no guarantee that, were I to not, you’d not be the rich ones in thirty years offering me a bed, coffee and deer meat out of pity for a night or so in my later years, and not the other way around. In fact, it’s impossible for me to get this high-speed rail put in without you. If you think like the Nazis do and that “Oh actually we could go to war and then get rid of half of the troublesome nation and put it in ourselves, plus Lebensraum,” it’s because you don’t know history. Wars result in stagnation, depression. Not only is half of the workforce dead, the other half can’t get out of bed to work, either, either due to PTSD, or schrapnel. Happened after the Civil War. Happened after World War I. Very, VERY slow recoveries. Happened after World War II in lots of places. So, get that dumb shit out of your head. Babies, regardless of how many boom out, take a long time to grow up, not to mention time and energy and money to raise. If you go to war, this place is going to suck long, long after your children hopefully die of old age. There will also be liberals you weren’t able to kill, and now it’s just another version of “North vs. South” cold war, with both sides hating each other with a simmering rage, that sometimes explodes into actual violence and even acts of terror, and which goes on for another two hundred years, similarly to how it’s still going on now, 160 years after American Civil War One (I suspect we’re currently in the second one, at over 550,000 COVID deaths; and, the mass shootings are actually starting to really add up). Really, you should give it up. Fantasy bullshit. Maybe keep the AR-15 to kill coyotes and target practice, but forget the Revolution. Our military could wipe you AND me out, anyway. It has drones and Stinger missiles; we don’t. As I’m fond of saying, only the First Amendment will save us, now. Sure, the guns are there just in case. But, stop talking about it. And, there’s a reason the Founders put it under the First Amendment, not the other around. It wasn’t because they were trying to make the Second look humble. It’s because they knew the pen IS. TRULY. MIGHTIER than the sword, IF it’s used often, and properly.

I could also envision a very deep tunnel to augment the high-speed rail; again, all modern miners know that the U.S. has the technology, know-how and equipment to build very deep, very long, very stable tunnels. I’m really serious about this high-speed rail, which I usually hold up as Exhibit A of infrastructure projects that America wouldn’t just benefit from, but desperately needs, because we are falling way behind the rest of the world, and they are beginning to seriously eat our lunch for it. Massive data breach not of a fucking credit agency, but THE U.S. INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY, OUT THE BACK DOOR. Trump’s parting gift, among others including a botched assassination and decapitation attempt that Putin is still greatly benefiting from nonetheless, and knew he would from, regardless of the mission’s degree of success. I should have known. I was very tired, by then. I should have known that a violent insurrection attempt, regardless of anticipated or likely level of success, was GUARANTEED to happen. If I’d had, I’d have warned everybody.

Remember: Bezos is making $7,000,000 an hour. Every hour of his life. This is not a guy who has to wake up on time.

That’s not bullshit.

That’s the real Wonderland coals they’re raking you over, left and right. It’s not me. It’s not liberals. Really, it’s not Ilhan Omar, and it’s not a young former bartender form the Bronx, either (AOC). They’ve been doing it over and over. Economic crash of 2007 was George W. Bush, not Clinton. Bush started at least one serious, illegal military campaign, too (Iraq War).

The Harry Potters have actually been extensively analyzed as to the regard that they morally comport with Christianity and other non-occult major religions, and they’re pretty clean in that regard, if not actually outstanding, and filled with all kinds of great stuff we should want children to learn. Sure, there are concerns of the occult, but it’s a judgment call as to whether you fear simply watching it is offensive to God. I don’t; it’s history. It’s human. Even if it was a mistake, which I doubt it was. Not that I particularly recommend it be taken too seriously as real; I think that can become inherently dangerous, kind of like all religion is, fundamentally; and, sure, it may possibly be fraudulent, with nothing behind it… again, kind of like all religion might be (minus their moral, logical, humanist-aligned teachings and admonitions themselves). If evil is behind it (occult practices, witchcraft, sorcery, etc.), again, I’m not particularly impressed or concerned, because accepted, valid religions are used to commit serious evil all of the time. If anything, if it’s real, I’d suspect it can go both ways. All power is a double-edged sword, and any strongly-held belief system is as well, regardless of its validity. Yes, you can become violent believing in UFO cults, or you can just waste your time with them. You’ll get nothing valuable from them, of course, other than an upgraded Alice in Wonderland trip, where you get to experience the fun of actually going crazy, and believing in magical creatures and imaginary friends again, like you may have done when you were a child. Because it’s all bullshit, but the process of convincing yourself (brainwashing yourself, really) it might not be is the trip. On the other hand, I have yet to find a single major world religion, the teachings and writings of which are so clear, and expressed so damned clearly, that maniacs have been unable to ever weaponize it, and where all who read or hear of it become wonderful people rapidly. At any rate, this scene’s New Testament parallel would be John 15:13, “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”

Unstoppable (2010) is a deep state movie, morally-misaligned (incompetent) deep state vs. man vs. machine. It is based loosely on a true story; where it may have been either accident or sabotage, but the runaway train in real life was handled largely professionally and without incident.

All morally-misaligned deep states are fundamentally incompetent. That doesn’t mean they’re not very, very competent at remaining in power so that they can continue to lead incompetently, however. All deep states lead, in a manner of speaking; otherwise, they wouldn’t be states, or practicing statecraft. When I refer to a morally-misaligned-incompetent deep state, however, I am qualifying that deep state as about to, finally, seriously fuck up. As in, in a way where everyone is going to suffer because of its fundamental incompetence to lead, and in a way IT DID NOT WANT TO HAPPEN, EITHER.

That’s what Unstoppable (2010) is.

Unstoppable is an important movie for our current times, though it appears as just a kind of simplistic action movie on the surface (okay, it’s a train; it can’t be stopped, and bashes into lots of things; so what?). It is NOT. It is morally-aligned state/deep state vs. morally-misaligned deep state, and the acting and casting is REALLY good. The responsible train operator in the movie is a lower-level manager played by Rosario Dawson. She wants to blow it off the tracks before it gets to a populated area, where it could reach what is known as the “Stanton Curve,” a sharp bend in the otherwise straight track rail where it is uncertain, even to physicists and train experts such as the federal inspections officer who just happened to be onsite that day for a completely different, routine reason, if the runaway train will fly off of the rails, or not. If it flies off of the rails at the Stanton Curve, its five carloads of particularly dangerous contents (liquid molten phenol) will react with the contents in the tankers on the ground, creating a runaway toxic cloud that could kill possibly tens of thousands.

The deep state, which does NOT want to spend the money on a recovery operation out in the middle of the farmlands of Ohio, thinks it can solve it with novel and untested, much less unproven solutions invented by relatively untrained and speculative wannabe Rambos; again, mixing the cozy, private military/contracting firms’ relationships with the corporate deep state such as parachutists, snipers, portable track derailers, etc. and even the mainstream media, which hyped them during the attempts, and which did not perform any resistance to whether any of it was actually smart, in realtime, when it might have actually mattered, and saved lives. Fucking with tens of thousands of peoples’ lives, instead of taking the sure bet. Like happened in Flint, and is still happening there to an extent, and which is also happening in Newark. Now, Texas is feeling the brunt of the same kind of callous disregard for reality and competency and seriousness in government. Unfortunately, the train proves otherwise UNSTOPPABLE; and many, many lives are almost lost.

In the movie, the effective deep state (private train operators who are strongly influencing the outcome of the national security threat they created, and who mostly don’t want to, and don’t, listen to the federal safety regulator’s advice, which is to blow the tracks in the farmland, while it still can) lose their jobs, but I’m pretty sure no one goes to jail. If the movie had been norms-breaking that way, then I think it would have helped sales, not to mention America.

I want to start seeing evil punished. Peacefully, but also effectively. 60 million dollar capped statutory fines for corporations that make 16 billion a year is not a punishment; upgrade the laws to start stealing money back from these people. We do it to ourselves with traffic tickets, I want to start seeing it done with billionaire polluters and union-busters, using sums that aren’t rounding errors in their accounting charts. Using sums that could build eight hundred new high schools, if that’s what we chose to use the money for, not one or two. I want to start seeing incompetence that should have known it was incompetent long ago, but which refuses to resign for the greater good, punished. You have to think like a fascist. These people have no shame. They do not care that you think they are not nice; in fact, they hate you, and enjoy that you’d like to be friends with them, if they could only understand your moral worldview, and how nice it is, and how rich it got you, and how many lovers/promotions/new clients it gets you, you get my drift. They do not care about Hell, and probably most of them don’t believe it really exists, or understand its theoretical implications for other cosmologies, such as reincarnation (which I strongly suspect is real). The language they understand is pain, loss of freedom/life/money/power, and force. That’s about it. They care about those things.

It qualifies as a deep state movie because the private train company has too much influence over the outcome, and too much conflict of interest to make rational decisions, when the event should have probably created a mandate from somewhere in Washington to blow the tracks (in the fictional scenario in the movie). Instead, the private company, with blessings and support from local and state and even the federal government, wastes precious time on badly-conceived goose chases, which the seasoned yard operator played by Denzel Washington tries to repeatedly warn them won’t work. He ultimately proves correct. Why? Because, finally about to retire, he’s spent his whole career in the yard, with trains, and they’d spent their whole careers behind desks, pushing pencils.

Insinuations of racism and sexism (patriarchy, White rich father knows best) are definitely woven into the storyline as well.

As much as I’d like to call it a MeToo movie, because Dawson’s character gets promoted at the end, it’s not, really. There is no central woman or girl figure who almost singularly saves the day, though Dawson’s role is critical. Why? She secretly trusts the White man federal train inspector, among other things. Not because he’s White or a man or a fed, but because she realizes he’s a real, fucking genius who knows more about the most boring things about trains that even she doesn’t. That nobody does; not even Washington’s character. A dweeb, but a dweeb whose exceedingly rare knowledge is crucial to saving the day. In a way, he functions as a kind of medicine man, or shaman. Similar to how The Mad Hatter functions in this scene: His contribution is almost nothing at all, but it changes everything. In game theory, this is called a bug. In cards, it’s usually a Joker. But, it can be any wild card.

Alice in Wonderland (2010) is a MeToo movie. For my current complete list of MeToo movies, see the very bottom of my “About” page.

It’s deep state, too, because the policy is kept secret. The private train company would have the public THINK they were competent, or had little choice in their novel ideas. In fact, they were hiding the fact that they were really just gambling. To save money. And their reputations, and jobs.

In this scene,, Denzel Washington’s character defies the deep state, but it’s still all being kept secret from the press and public, the power struggle that both sides are engaged in (“the shit”). At this moment, Washington’s character does not become a whistleblower, but becomes morally-aligned deep state vs. morally-misaligned deep state. There’s a tacit agreement that, if everything turns out well, maybe no-one will have to be prosecuted, or go to jail, too-too much, or for too-too long; and, maybe even certain extremely embarrassing secrets, can remain ‘safely’ hidden, on all sides. At least, for now. It is assumed that that shit will be hashed out later, once the immediate problem is solved, and generally with everyone’s cooperation around the actually best plan. I think, though, in this scene, Washington is absolutely suggesting that he will have no problem becoming a whistleblower, if he thinks he’s getting strung along afterwards, assuming he survives.

In fact, the real morally-aligned-deep-state is born when Rosario Dawson secretly makes the decision to ignore her employer’s orders, and begins autocratically (undemocratically), secretly pursuing an alternate series of actions, which diverge from the “official” decision (not shown in these personally-selected video clips).

Those unauthorized decisions ultimately save the day; but, man oh man, can you imagine the mess, and the finger-pointing, that happens when both deep states fuck up (get in each others’ way), and everything collapses?

“Unstoppable was inspired by the 2001 CSX 8888 incident, in which a runaway train ultimately traveled 66 miles (106 km) through northwest Ohio. Led by CSX Transportation SD40-2 #8888, the train left the Walbridge, Ohio, rail yard with no one at the controls, after the hostler got out of the slow-moving train to correct a misaligned switch, mistakenly believing he had properly set the train’s dynamic braking system.” –Wikipedia, Unstoppable (2010 film)

King = Could be changed to a Flag. Flags can’t fall. When they do, the war is over. They also don’t move very well on their own.
Queen = Could be changed to a President, sex unspecific. References to monarchy, and defending it, and going to war with it “to sacrifice everything, if necessary, to save the two Kings who actually started all of this shit, whether directly or stochastically, most likely” are now gone.
Bishops = Change to Archers or Bowmen, possibly male and female, in comport with Yin and Yang (black and white). Like Tweedledum and Tweedledee, who did play the White rooks in Lewis Carroll’s 1871 book Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. No more cumbersome references to them as “dark-square Bishop” and “light-square Bishop.” Something fun and easy to say, like Handel and Candle, might be an option, or some other weird combination.

Some say, compar’d to Bononcini
That Mynheer Handel’s but a Ninny
Others aver, that he to Handel
Is scarcely fit to hold a Candle
Strange all this Difference should be
‘Twixt Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee![4]

Also, not necessarily an endorsement, but it looks interesting:

https://alice.fandom.com/wiki/White_Rook

Flag and President going on this or that color doesn’t matter, now; in fact; Flag on Color makes most sense, now, like it always really did, and doesn’t need to be justified as “chivalry,” which is really just another odious, backhand compliment to itself. “Here, before my Queen sacrifices itself so that I might make another younger, hotter, less-tired Queen that will deliver checkmate, or send her all over the board into harm’s way, or both of them, or three, or nine, here; I shall do hereby bequeath unto her this square that matches her color.” Or, it can be randomized. Or, it can be done on choice, but with a hybrid: Perhaps wait until your opponent decides where their Queen (or President) goes, before making the decision where yours does. Black and White can be kept, but who goes first should be randomized.

Fischer was FAR more aggressive with creating more Chess variants which he considered, in many cases, to be overall improvements, and he was ahead of his time. I don’t believe these small changes I’m suggesting would damage the game’s integrity, but would in fact enhance it, especially since the game has been being cracked so hard these last several decades [cracked = exhaustive, extensive analysis which seeks to uncover most, if not all, secrets and mysteries], opening theory is almost become a moot point. Fischer was very concerned about this very thing happening, when he invented Fischer Random Chess. A genius invention, the big problem with Fischer Random, in my opinion? It’s too random. No one really wants to be bothered with it. Atomic chess is, in many ways, more fun. Bughouse is. Fischer Random is just weird, because there are 960 starting positions. You’d have to play four thousand games, just to be able to say, “Yeah, I started with this setup before. Twice with White. Twice with Black.”

No one cares. Too weird. Maybe simple for him. But, few else.

The whole concept of Women Grandmaster, in my personal opinion, should be scrapped. Women’s tennis? Sure. Women’s Chess? It’s sexist; and, hard-core.

Again, no claims to genius chess here, this is strong basic chess, Class A club player level, a step under Expert, a little further down from Master. Depends on what rating system you’re using. Plus, my unique “style” thrown in (every player has their own brain, and therefore their own style, since there will be constant times in chess where many paths, or good moves, are present, and are actually options).

I’ve also noticed that players on FICS are generally becoming better with each passing year, and I have played there off and on as “Tajek” since 1992 using the free Windows client, Winboard, a project of Xboard (these days, I only bother to log in as an Aliceaaaaaaa guest). So, my relative strength might be declining that way, as well as generally with age, although I think there is a lot of fluidity there. Well, one, I’m not really that old (although I am quite so, but not excessively so, by evolutionary standards), and, two, you will notice a sharp increase in ability to play almost ANY game of skill if you are working with your brain to solve challenging problems in almost any other area, at the same time. So, if you’re pushing yourself with solving Sudoku, or Spider Solitaire, or complex political problems, your chessgame should go up. Doesn’t mean it’s going to stay there. I have watched my strength vary significantly between different times in my life, from times I was playing near-Expert chess all of the time, sometimes with strokes of brilliance, to times when I could not defeat even some of the worst amateurs. Consistently… an actual phase. From being really soaring, to predictable loserdom. Dumb move-making. Imagine how much greater the variance must be in other skill games which incorporate true randomness (chaos), such as poker. There might be a few bad moves in these games, and probably are. But, chess is a game where not making mistakes is not ultimately what matters: not being the player to make the last mistake is. It’s also why real war is very dangerous to engage in: mistakes will be made, and they can be very, very costly. Real war is not Chess, it is not a game. Ironically, the better the ‘players’ in war, the less people should die. Sun Tzu noticed this. With bad ‘players’ in war (he called them ‘commanders’), real melees, errors, and unwinnable stalemates occur, and the losses can be disastrous, particularly to those who are unable to perceive that that is what they are: tar babies, traps. Civil War commanders shooting themselves on the battlefield, not because they’d lost, but because they’d won so badly, was not uncommon, I’m pretty sure. Note that I said Civil War commanders: Not Confederate commanders, because it might have happened on both sides, though the South did lose the war. Robert E. Lee himself INFAMOUSLY got tens of thousands of his men needlessly killed at Gettysburg. He tried to resign at a failure prior to that, but President Jefferson Davis, running out of generals, made the worse mistake of not letting him. Then, Lee blessed the mistake by not saying, “It was not a request, sir.”

Real. Happened, and almost verbatim. The military reports exist. I have seen new reports about the alleged “throuple.” Might even be deep state bullshit being waged against you. This fucking deep state and its STUNTED sexuality marketed as a feature or asset never fails to slut its boring self around, you know? If I were Gandhi, and I was accused of starting a war, the deep state and MSM would be focusing on my love of Strawberry Ice Cream as proof of my belief in Helter Skelter, or whatever. Hate it, don’t want, couldn’t fucking care less, it’s all evil deep state if that’s the case. Ashli Babbit. Don’t give a FUCK if she was in a ‘throuple.’ Matters NOTHING to my assessment of her morality; if anything, it only makes me think higher of her, and be more curious about her moral worldview, and I don’t even know what a fucking throuple is. Don’t tell me: I don’t fucking care. I DO care about Babbitt, believe it or not. But, I also have even MORE fucking important things to think about, I think, which means that, unless you tell me that you saw a UFO over Babbit on January 6, 2021, or on December 7, 1991, I’m not interested.

I do not care, Sam I am

I do not care if you saw a UFO over Ashli Babbitt on September 8, 1999.

I do not care if you saw a UFO over Ashli Babbitt on October 18, 2005.

I do not care if you saw a UFO over Ashli Babbitt on January 4, 2015.

I do not care if you saw a UFO over Ashli Babbitt on May 9, 1981.

I do not care if you saw a UFO over Ashli Babbitt on June 11, 2003.

I do not care if you saw a UFO over Ashli Babbitt on April 18, 1443.

I don’t give a fuck about Rafael Edward Cruz, period. If that guy who might have known of the assassination plot to kill Mr. Pence dies of a heart attack tomorrow, tell me about it a few days later. If he dies from a sniper’s round, using a silencer or not, or with a long gun or not, let me know immediately.

If Pence did not know, and if others who weren’t him, did; if it wasn’t some bullshit PSYOP or false flag– then you will see me come to the defense of a lost and confused Christian brother under assault in a way you’ve seen nothing yet. Don’t care how much power he has, or had. To me, under those circumstances, Pence becomes God, and you become dust.

I’d rather have Pence be president in 2021, than they be alive. Period. Not in jail. Dead. Rotting. In a nice hermetically-sealed coffin for the Day of Judgment, like I’ll be someday. If I’m lucky.

I say again: If Rafael Edward “Ted” Cruz dies from a sniper’s round, using a silencer or not, or with a long gun or not, let me know immediately for that laughing cunt, confident cunt. Same goes for Lauren Boebert, who is a cunt riding his coattails, and who deserves whatever she gets. WHATEVER she gets. She believes in Q. I’m not telling you to fuck her, or to shoot her; I’m just saying, if someone shoots her and her husband at this point because of it, whatever. I’ve already said she should be in jail. So should Magic: The Gathering Greene. Again, I’m not telling you to shoot them, yet. I’m also not telling you not to, either, whenever the fuck you might want to.

Here. If you want to do it, you might consider doing it with an assault weapon you can probably download off of the Internet. You might consider shooting this cunt, too. She has a gun, and it stops bad guys with them; so, she should have nothing to fear.

The bullets she laughs about her opponent says “destroy you.” Well, if you shoot her in the side of the chest or something at a barbecu in April or May or June, she should laugh about it, just like she does here, because it probably won’t be a big deal at all.

Dumb, non-veteran whores. Fucking with me. Keep fucking with me.

The man she’s sparring with is angry. Good for him.

I would sit around her barbecued head all day, while talking about Mozart, and Ayn Rand.

You can write in his obituary that I thought he played a nice game of basketball with that comedian.

Got your attention, again? Good. The same goes for nonveteran McConnel; his rotting black hand, his fucking nonveteran weird wife; and, a few others, too. I don’t call him Moscow Mitch; I call him Mashed-Heart Mitch, plus his fucking weird short wife, that short cunt, in honor of the expanding hollowpoint that might be used to kill both of them by mashing his loyal GOP heart; including Jim Jordan’s, whose cocky, reminds-me-of-Freisler high-school-nonveteran-wrestling-coach brain matter being sprayed on-camera for eternity might have made me living my life worth it. Yeah, that’s right, whore motherfucker, call your cunt White men hit team and make that deep state wet room all nice and warm and ready, before checking in with the deep state using codename “CUCK, AND MAILORDER WIFE” that’s still trying to decide whether to approve killing me, or not. Oh yeah and, fuck your wife, that worthless-to-God-and-Christ cunt White whore, like all of the others. And, who is Asian.

My real life, condensed into three minutes. The one I really lived, in my own head, for forty years. For your FUCKING Christ, and for your FUCKING peace, and for your FUCKING own good. Maybe, even, because I thought I might have gotten something out of it. My my, so sad, there’s a sucker born every minute. What they neglected to say is that one out of every hundred suckers wakes up one day to the realization that going on a shooting spree– not in a Latinx shopping mall, mind you, but in a government building filled with conspiring domestic enemies, stochastic terrorists and Constitutional threats– kind of like you, and your fucking wife, and your fucking pages– might not be that bad an idea. You know; at age eight, I fall in love with Led Zeppelin; I go to the amusement park at nine; maybe fuck that dumb girl at seventeen; at forty, I shoot the head of my government. A perfectly natural progression. Anyway, I’m sorry I digress in my discussion of going Lord of the Flies on you, and your cunt wife. Who is Asian. Is it right to say, “An Asian.” Is she “illegal? “An” illegal? Fuck you.

Don’t come fucking near me, or I might produce my weapon of choice, as Dr. Sister Deirdre Byrne says: A rosary. Then strangle you with it, use it as a serrating blade to cut your fucking arteries, and then wash it in the sink and say my prayers.

I am talking to you, Mitch McConnell. I am talking to your cunt wife, whose name doesn’t matter because she is a woman, but which rhymes with Bow Wow. Shit cunt, meaningless cunt., No one remembers her name cunt, transportation cunt. The bitch who controls cars and trains and buses that still use gasoline.

Same goes for most Republicans.

Same goes for Jim Jordan. Any time, motherfucker. Send your best Whites on over here, for culling.
Do you remember this, Mr. McConnell, plus cunt wife who likes cars, and gas? Your wife, the gasoline-chugger, Dumb Cunt Worthless Whore Chao? You’re both not that older than me, which makes me younger than you, which makes me potentially deadlier and more powerful than you. As in, will shoot you, and replace your government with a moral one, or at least a better one. That’s right, cunts. Revolution. I skip sedition, usually go right to insurrection, and it doesn’t last long. Talking about your cunt wife still, for some reason. The cunt who won’t even take on your name, though you forced it on Rodham? Yeah, your mother and father are watching it up in Heaven. Too bad you’ll be in fucking HELL, regardless of whether I or the Army I’m going to raise shoots you and your conspirators, including Cruz and Jordan, in the head. Your little rotting man-cunt, Steve Bannon, says he’d like to see heads of my government cut off, and stuck on pikes at each end of my White House. I have a better idea: Him sliced… literally, LIKE SALAMI… and fed, slowly, to dogs. Then, I’d want the dogs’ shit collected, and then thrown onto the graves of his parents.

Couldn’t give one fuck less about your short hysterical wife, actually. Too bad you’ll never see your mother and father again, old man. They might have been decent, but you’re acid-melted-drain-slag. As in, might reconsider feeding your melted flesh to my hedge bushes, out of concern for the health of my hedge bushes.

I am not kidding. That’s your fucking mistake, confident cunt. I might confirm it’s your corpse for a second or two, like we did with bin Laden. Then, I’d have it dissolved, and thrown into the ocean.

Try to fuck your short mailorder wife tonight, and then tell her that it might be the last chance you get, old man. Old man, that’s right, a little Kentucky whore, about as memorable as Kentucky minus some horse, with a fucking rotting hand, can’t wait until you croak where you’ll get to go down to Circle Eight or whatever, and suck Rush Limbaugh’s cock forever, while Satan fucks your short wife. Does that qualify as racisms? Grow up. It’s locker room talk, cunt. You never know; I might shoot you a few days from now, might not. Might order it, might not.

That’s right, asshole. I might ORDER it. You know what that means, right? Process it with your Attorney General, and with the little Bow Wow Bitch whose name rhymes with Chao.

You’re all domestic enemies, and terrorists. I think you know it by now, and have for a while. I think your astute lawyers told you EXACTLY when you legally moved into that realm, as well as when the hot war statistically started. What, thought Paul Joseph Ronco would never figure it out? Oh, you must think this is America without Paul Joseph Ronco in it. Bummer, dick. Why didn’t you tell us? Oh, would it have been admitting to treason, or something? Is it treason to report treason? Does reporting treason negate the original treason? Keep it up, we can’t wait to shoot you in the hot war.

Fuck you, and fuck your wife, and fuck your family over 18 who don’t know you’re a traitorous, Big Lie cunt. You can tell the same thing to Kavanaugh. His kids are cool. His cunt wife can die too, for all I care; and, you can tell the same thing to all of these other new male cunts who are trying to upstage to the two actual female cunts, Boebert and Greene.

You want a war? You fucking have it. Shoot first, cunts. Or, just wait around and don’t go away, and maybe I will.

Tired of ’em. Professional liars, they’re not going to change. I see no reason why I should fight to overturn the gerrymandering they created. Fuck them. Them dead at this point would probably be better. Moving on, might be better. Let’s see how long the gerrymandering lasts once they’re dead.

Disclaimer: Used without TBM knowledge or permission.

Really. There comes a point when it’s just matter. Qualifying the matter as “organic” would be giving it three unnecessary syllables. You know?

You are listening to an 82nd Airborne soldier who is getting tired. Tired, because you’re not doing anything.

I was not a soldier. That’s not quite an accurate way to think about me, particularly not an 82nd Infantry HHC soldier who scored a 99 on the ASVAB.

I was more like a blender.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_assassinations

We’re talking about Ashli Babbitt, right? Well, talking about shooting former Trump Administration officials probably falls into the same category, I would hope.

There are very few things that would make me want to crawl into bed with American fascists. Blowing the brains out of the backs of the heads of the architects of our mutual misery would be one of them.

It’s mostly hate that’s left, now. I don’t mind that. I know God’s already given me the go-ahead, if I come to the conclusion it’s necessary.

Really: Don’t tell me. I say again: I don’t fucking care. If anything, if I were to kill her in battle, the least I’d feel obligated, to not suffer PTSD survivor’s guilt, would be to know that I protected the privacy of her sexual orientation. Pope Joan?

It does not matter to me, and I’m sorry it’s being turned into a thing. Americans are not sexual psychologists; and, so, if they expect to be taken seriously in other important but fundamentally unrelated matters, such as politics and war, they should stop trying to play it as relevant. It does not matter that liberals all of a sudden (dumb chads) think they are being the coy and smart ones, for rubbing it in to an opponent who so often cites sexual purity as an advantage: there is no, as far as I’m concerned, connection. In a hypothetical, imaginary but theoretically real universe, I would rather, as a heterosexual army or person, wage war against another heterosexual army or person, than against a transgender or homosexual or multisexual army or person, not because I think they’re not strong– are you fucking kidding me? I rout those I think might not be strong– but, because I suspect they might be, and probably are. I only get one life. If I lose it because I thought my opponent was weak, that’s IT. Can’t be wrong, once. Ergo, better to be paranoid as fuck. You don’t want to lose to the gay guy, do you? I don’t mean it that way. But to fascists, I do. Because their way is fucking nuts, but they believe it, so why not use it against them. Again, it’s very difficult to not leverage a slur, every now and then. I’m attempting to have a theoretical discussion regarding assassinating U.S. government officials in 2021, okay? Cut me some slack.

Regarding fighting gay people, etc. I’d have to go into the latter battles knowing that the latter people had been fighting for validation their entire lives, whereas I’d been a benefactor of unearned privilege; I also go into the foremost battle more fully understanding the holistic mindset of my opponent. I remember when I couldn’t remember the name, Chelsea Manning. Now, I realize I can’t remember her name before she changed it: Bradley Manning. I’ve also always known that neither name, or identity, mattered a fuck to me (within the context of Chelsea Manning’s technical lawbreaking). Sexuality, the science most likely says, is in most ways profoundly detached from normal human existence, and thus largely is not associated with questions of complex, deep morality. Putting living, warm wet body parts into other wet body parts so as to experience the next best thing, maybe, to heroin or crack, plus theoretically to ‘whip up’ babies, is a thing we don’t talk about because it is so intimate, and personal. When it comes to who kills who with swords, I use science to determine who’s mostly on the fucking right side, and who’s mostly on the fucking wrong one. All of that other “where do I think I’d most like to stick my this or that where, while in this warm bed with her/him, before they fucking lose my text number, or I turn twenty-six or fifty-seven” has nothing to do, as far as I’m practically concerned, with morality, much less war.

Which is why I’m here. I never cared about your sexual orientation, really, and I still don’t. I became an American government serial killer– not a priest, ever– prior to getting to the point I gave a fuck about talking to you on WordPress. About, even, how much I didn’t care about your sexual orientation. Of course, if I wanted to kill you, I’d just be hanging around, waiting. I’d certainly not be here, telling you how much Jesus commands me I should love you.

In this scene, Joan says (paraphrased) “we’ll fight to the end, but would rather just go home and sleep.”

Opponent’s first thought: Realizes he most likely couldn’t give a fuck about her God-talk, but also that fighting her might result in victory, but also likely serious causalities. If her army had been half its size, he’d have ignored her entreaty, and attacked. In fact, the only reason she was able to advance into the center of the field and give her ultimatum was because the armies were of roughly the same size.

Opponent’s second thought: Appreciates that Joan has the power to let everyone go home and sleep. Because, if Joan had said, “We’re coming at you!” The English commander would have stood. And, fucked her army up good, if not actually won.

Opponent’s third thought: This is going to be a political disaster for me, but I’m getting ready to retire anyway. England, this deathtrap I’ve sworn my life to whether or not I still love it, will survive without Orleans, or lower France. Will I be killed for treason? Maybe, but who fucking cares, I love my men more, and really don’t see what’s worth living for at this point. These never-ending wars are bullshit.

One of my favorite MeToo movies. Also, a true story.

The fundamental difference between fascistic people and everyone else is that, for example, if violence were to start somewhere because of some one, or group of, people fascistic people would consider me ‘on the same side as,’ or even me myself, the difference between the fascistic people and everyone else who is normal is that the fascistic people started it. Truth, scientific. Not up for reasonable, rational debate (I try to refer to them as ‘fascistic,’ and not ‘fascist,’ because There Is No Bottom [which is also a hard-and-fast rule]). They provoked it. I don’t care about them, the same way they don’t care about me. On a serious level, I really don’t fucking care about them, which I think should be sufficient for them. But, because they really don’t fucking care about me actively, as in, the difference between them and everyone else is, they have a problem with us because of us, and we have a problem with them because they have a problem with us. They need to correct that fucking attitude adjustment. It DOES usually result in violence, left to fester. But, I say, normal, non-fascistic people shouldn’t be blamed for any of it, if this war the fascists keep talking about and hinting about, happens. Not really. In fact, I’m not sure, at all, that the hot war isn’t already happening in a covert and asymmetric way, and that these people aren’t bona fide domestic enemies, and domestic terrorists. Not 100% certain by any means.

US COVID datestamp: 549,487. Population committed Jonestown-like political cult mass-murder-suicide by being tricked by PSYOP waged on them by the treasonous cult leadership, with foreign guidance and aid, to co-opt a naturally-occurring global pandemic as a bioweapon of mass destruction against itself. I haven’t seen a definitive statement the virus wasn’t cultivated. Cultivated is not the same as engineered.
Remember, it is not a dream. We are still in an actual, real-life honor movie.

Perfectly-morally-misaligned (incompetent)-deep-state vs. monster vs. last man vs. all humanity (the death of humanity in an imminent real sense, not a spiritual sense). In the series, the species, the sole heroine knew, could never be permitted to make it to Earth. A species so infective, natively intelligent, aggressive, fast-life-cycle; ferocious and lethal, the E.T.-bioengineered bioweapon known as Xenomorphs were practically unstoppable on the battlefield. Essentially a bug hunt [E.T.s that are insectoid, and are not possessed of human-similar intelligence]. Once even just one is unleashed on a target planet, it will be a matter of weeks before there’s not a single organic life-form larger than, say, a rabbit or gerbil, living there. Then, presumably, the life-cycle gene is activated; they all die; and, the engineer species moves in and cleans up. Xenomorphs are composed of silicate-organic hybrid material. Their blood is potent acid. There are fairly clear Medusa, as well as Kraken, parallels with the Xenomorphs, come to think of it.

At any rate, the human government-corporate-fused deep state in this movie franchise believes it can tame, and learn from, the Xenomorphs. This singular act of hubris and incompetence, Ripley knows, could trivially spell the fast extinction of mankind, unless the Xenomorph is always killed. No exceptions.

In this scene, an agent of the deep state is trying to smuggle two specimens in through return-to-Earth quarantine, using two infected human hosts, in expectation of a massive monetary and professional reward back home. All black ops, all illegal, all for utterly selfish and irresponsible purposes.
In some cases I think the attorney’s over-the-top, bordering on hysterical/temper tantrum, verbally abusive posture (not that Arias didn’t deserve it, but it may have played into her strategy) slowed down the progress of the case, although I accede that that might have been part of a strategy of delay and showmanship, to make more money… I have no idea anything about the lawyer (Juan) or his ethicality or morals, I am effectively arguing this as if all I knew of him was a line drawing on a piece of paper, which is about all I do. I think Juan could just as easily have very calmly checkmated her with her stories on how she’d been bodyslammed in the bathroom. I wouldn’t need, I don’t think, to know how I’d prove it in advance. I’d just have let Arias rope-a-dope herself. I also wouldn’t set expectations for a quick checkmate, either. I would have wanted footsteps: Tell me where your feet were on the floor. Most people in fear of their life should remember still-shots of the event, and sequences and motions and timestamps, with fairly reliable, repeatable certitude. Colors of the walls, and things like that. Everyone who was already convinced of her guilt acceded Arias is a quite skilled, stubborn and gifted liar, kind of like our former President, and wasted a lot of gifts and talents. Beautiful, as well. A pretty interesting fucked up personality, and personality disorder, too. But, really, really dangerous. Like Lauren Boehlert, but actually in jail, where she should be (Boehbert is committing stochastic terrorism. She is also, as far as I am aware right now, part of the Big Lie, which is sedition). I can’t, for example, help from laughing at her faux-deadpan responses at timestamp 3:09. I mean, why do you keep even trying? You’re only digging a deeper legal hole for yourself. You must really want to be in jail for a long fucking time, I guess. No, you are NOT going to be found not guilty anymore than Diane Downs was. Half-washed, still-bloody digital cameras with your fingerprints on them found in washing machines with still-viewable photographs of the still-taking-place murder on them as you are dragging the victim’s corpse down the hall, where it is also forensically known that you attempted to delete the memory card at that moment, tends to assure that finding by a judge, and even by a jury. Admit it. Oh, I’m sorry, you’re just as psychopathic and reptile-like as Downs. Would not want Arias trained as an assassin against my country, assuming she had the real courage, or ability to understand why ever being one might actually be important, which I doubt. Presumably not against my country, but against a hostile other one’s, etc. Not all bad parties are countries, either.

For example, I don’t understand his line of questioning to her, “this is a very small closet, isn’t it?” That’s just going to make her argumentative. If it was a small closet, and every reasonable person would assume it was, I’d just keep going with my story, getting towards the point. I don’t give a fuck what Arias’ opinion of what constitutes a “very small closet” is. So, all of that shit about “I was just giving it as a reference,” and then lambasting her in return, was mostly nonsense; however, Juan gets a major blow in when he describes what he wants her to to get rid of as quickly as she either will, or he can force her to, which is her obstinate, combative, attitude, which was the actress’ best and most reliable façade against the real narrative she was protecting, and which occurred in spacetime, which was that she had viciously premeditated, and then killed, her ex-, effectively in a shower where she thought she’d be able to drain his blood, and then attempted to destroy evidence, and plant evidence elsewhere (called him on his cellphone when it was proven she already knew he was dead). Then, was forced to start changing her stories.

All of the round-and-round they do at timestamp 4:04 seems unnecessary and dangerous for Juan, as well.

Arias was not going to be intimidated by the abusive tone coming from a man. She liked it, actually, when she was actually in bed with a guy. It played into her sense of mentally-superior, coy smugness, and it let her play her favorite part of all, the “little helpless me poor victim, I am a sweet little girl, you are punishing me for no reason.” It may have a been a one-trick-pony, and I would have assaulted her with various psychological techniques, and probably with various lawyers. I’m not saying they didn’t. I didn’t follow the case closely at all at the time, and haven’t researched it very in-depth, since.

Still, luckier than Ashli Babbitt. And, Heather Heyer. And, Meadow Pollack. And, Sydney Aiello.
I am not a doctor of any kind but, maybe for self-help assistance with overcoming trauma, PTSD or depression, I recommend the following Ted Talk: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mo_mgcxGYYE

These traumas are not weaknesses, or constitutional weaknesses, or lack of courage or attention-getting. These are kids, many of whom saw brain matter, and stepped in it, and over it. That is not something you get over quickly. I’ve never seen that. Everyone else should pray that they never do again, either.

By the way, what I do is called philosophy, or philosophia: Greek for “love of wisdom.” George Soros does not pay me to do it, and I can’t find Q’s address because he is a cagey fellow. Not knowledge and experience, but knowledge and experience analyzed and contextualized generally, so as to allow it to be applied to practical situations and decisions with generally good, or desirable, outcomes (according to classic humanist principles– life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, more or less– which form the basis of the logical structure of morality; justice [fair punishment, as public example and future deterrent, which we (society) make offenders involuntarily pay, in exchange for their having incurred upon us our unwilling sacrifice when they committed their crime, similar to how currency is used to settle debts between unlike goods; a more sophisticated and nonviolent version of eye-for-eye]; and also good law). It’s not as foolish as we may tend to think, I think, going around writing and thinking, and talking about and spending time on, pursuing wisdom, which is closely related to discernment, if it is not maybe also the same thing. Just like the Bible says we should. And, in most cases, as long as we have the courage to talk about it:

Matthew 25:14-30
English Standard Version
The Parable of the Talents

14 “For it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants[a] and entrusted to them his property. 15 To one he gave five talents,[b] to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. 16 He who had received the five talents went at once and traded with them, and he made five talents more. 17 So also he who had the two talents made two talents more. 18 But he who had received the one talent went and dug in the ground and hid his master’s money. 19 Now after a long time the master of those servants came and settled accounts with them. 20 And he who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five talents more, saying, ‘Master, you delivered to me five talents; here, I have made five talents more.’ 21 His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant.[c] You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.’ 22 And he also who had the two talents came forward, saying, ‘Master, you delivered to me two talents; here, I have made two talents more.’ 23 His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.’ 24 He also who had received the one talent came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you scattered no seed, 25 so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here, you have what is yours.’ 26 But his master answered him, ‘You wicked and slothful servant! You knew that I reap where I have not sown and gather where I scattered no seed? 27 Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and at my coming I should have received what was my own with interest. 28 So take the talent from him and give it to him who has the ten talents. 29 For to everyone who has will more be given, and he will have an abundance. But from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. 30 And cast the worthless servant into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

Heavy duty, and not one of Christ’s more ‘popular’ parables– not that it’s controversial, but that most people don’t get it.

Here, of course, it’s a parable. Of course, the man going on the journey, or Master, is God. And, of course, the parable doesn’t have anything to do with real money. The talents, which are units of money in the parable, oddly enough, are like real talents a person is given by God: skills, gifts, propensities, drives. The ability to dance, the ability to solve problems, even the ability to lie well (yes, there are exceptions where lying is rewarded in the Bible; you don’t have to tell the truth to Satan). But, to God, those talents are gifts he (or it, or she, assuming it exists at all, or wants a pronoun we understand) always wants grown and expanded, and for moral purposes. Having a talent or gift, and then not doing anything with it, letting it shrivel, or even developing it and then not sharing it (that would be Jesus’ later parable of the hidden lamp) is a serious sin. Is it a betrayal? Kind of. Not on the same level of Judas, I wouldn’t say (not that my opinion on that question matters; this is all already carved in logical stone, and all I do is try to discover and decipher it), but on a similar level to Peter’s three denials before the cocks crowed. Dante, as far as I know, called this event “the Great Refusal” and put Peter on the shores of Hell, unable to leave, but denied by both Heaven and Hell. The fence-sitters. Dante called them “souls unsure… Who, neither rebellious to God nor faithful to Him, chose neither side.” (Pinsky translation)

CANTO III

THROUGH ME YOU ENTER INTO THE CITY OF WOES,
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER INTO ETERNAL PAIN,
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER THE POPLULATION OF LOSS

JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER, IN POWER DIVINE,
WISDOM SUPREME, LOVE PRIMAL. NO THINGS WERE
BEFORE ME NOT ETERNAL; ETERNAL I REMAIN.

ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.
These words I saw inscribed in some dark color
Over a portal. “Master,” I said, “make clear

Their meaning, which I find too hard to gather.”
Then he, as one who understands: “All fear
Must be left here, and cowardice die. Together

We have arrived where I have told you: here
You will behold the wretched souls who’ve lost
The good of intellect.” Then, with good cheer

In his expression to encourage me, he placed
His hand on mine: so trusting to my guide,
I followed him among things undisclosed.

The sighs, groans and laments at first were so loud,
Resounding through starless air, I began to weep:
Strange languages, horrible screams, words imbued

With rage or despair, cries as of troubled sleep
Of of a tortured shrillness–they rose in a coil
Of tumult, along with noises like the slap

Of beating hands, all fused in a ceaseless flail
That churns and frenzies that dark and timeless air
Like sand in a whirlwind. And I, my head in a swirl

Of error, cried: “Master, what is this I hear?
What people are these, whom pain has overcome?”
He: “This is the sorrowful state of souls unsure,

Whose lives earned neither honor nor bad fame.
And they are mingled with angels of that base sort
Who, neither rebellious to God nor faithful to Him,

Chose neither side, but kept themselves apart–
Now Heaven expels them, not to mar its splendor
And Hell rejects them, lest the wicked of heart

Take glory over them.” And then I: “Master,
What agony is it, that makes them keen their grief
With so much force?” He: “I will make brief answer:

They have no hope of death, but a blind life
So abject, they envy any other fate.
To all memory of them, the world is deaf.

Mercy and justice disdain them. Let us not
Speak of them: look and pass on.”

Psalm 25:1-4

King James Version

To You, O Lord, I Lift Up My Soul

1{A Psalm of David.}

Unto thee, O LORD, do I lift up my soul.

2 O my God, I trust in thee: let me not be ashamed, let not mine enemies triumph over me.

3 Yea, let none that wait on thee be ashamed: let them be ashamed which transgress without cause.

4 Shew me thy ways, O LORD; teach me thy paths

Shame is what matters so greatly in the above-referenced quote, I suspect, at least in the first few words uttered by the American sniper in this scene in Saving Private Ryan (1998). I suspect that Spielberg did contextualize the Scripture correctly: Be not ashamed of taking human life which deserves it. It is also in Ecclesiastes: “A time to kill, a time to be born.” Because no act is more vile, and to be ashamed of generally, than taking human life, and in almost always all cases.


As someone who considers myself a growing and developing person (we should always be growing and developing, unless we’re healing, or taking a vacation (healing), or figuring out where we are, and where we should go), I consider myself a political hybrid: Someone who understands liberal approaches to policies, and conservative approaches to policies, such that I can tell when one, or more of one than the other, is needed to solve a problem specific to that time in history, and culture. If you’re a conservative militarist, don’t knock liberalism: Patton was a notoriously liberal (in matters of war and aggression) commander, and so was Hitler, but not with nearly as much success. So was Rommel). But, with knowledge and experiences (really, a list of outcomes) properly analyzed, it’s impossible to not become MORE liberal and MORE conservative at the same time. In other words, if I lived for another thousand years, and everyone knew that I spent my time thinking about politics, and that I was pretty good at it, do you think I would be saying, if you came to me, “Oh, I’m still torn over whether I should be liberal or conservative!” That’s not even old-school from that perspective, that’s nuts. You would probably want to speak to me, if you had a really perplexing question about idealized policy, because I understood both sides’ way of looking at it, because I was wise. Especially if you were in Ancient Greece, and were a Spartan king with a reputation for being self-isolated and weird, and were about to be invaded by another king, named Xerxes! But, not these Ancient Greeks:

They were called “Ephors,” and they were real. Historical.
Maybe if you pull this tortoise’s teeth out enough, it will yield useful information
You’re safer than you think; but… don’t take it for granted

What, does Alice want to get to the Garden of Eden? Because she’s curious; bored; thinks it’s safe? Is that what the spies all over Wonderland say?