Category Archives: Retribution

Unbelievable? Sadly No

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I was going through FaceBook this morning and encountered this item from ABC7 a news outlet in Los Angeles and Southern California. You will see an all too familiar type of headline.

It was not the headline which took hold of my attention. It was the reaction emjois. Now Facebook being Facebook you can expect a few twisted and ignorant souls to put up laughing ones when there is a human tragedy and also thumbs up when Trump’s administration does something. After all it’s FaceBook where the ignorant, ill-informed and prejudiced of any political stripe be it Right or Left congregate.

The aspect which disturbed me was that there were approximately 200 thumbs up (maybe more now and worse 150+ whose reaction was to put the laughing face. A quick glance at the comments revealing one GIF ICE – themed support.
These twinned actions say much about a corrosion of the common sense of Humanity. That folk can support or mock the misery of children, vulnerable and frightened small individuals does speak harshly about those folk.

Now down Humanity’s long jagged, ragged road there is nothing new in this. One of the most frightening creations we have to offer is mentality of The Mob, be it a howling scream missile throwing horde or a host of folk with access to social media. Of any political or social stripe by the way. Against these waves of irrational hate and screaming War can at times look positively sanitised ‘It’s nothing personal. It’s just business,’. It is also fearfully easy to be swept up in the emotions of a crowd whose passions have been ignited.

The most dangerous aspect of this mindless action comes from the Opportunist. The Opportunist comes in many forms. We think of them as simply charlatans looking out for no more than personal gain from ‘the rubes’. But there are those who harbour extreme beliefs who will sense the discomfort and anger, to harness it and thus have a fertile ground to promote those ideas. There are those who are possessed of a narcissism and thus will use any means to promote themselves. There are the professionals who are there at the behest of an organisation or nation to stir up the Mob, who will be quite unaware they are fodder. And there are those who just want their moment of Glory, not really sure where it leads. All of these types will work upon the crowd, turning it into a mob, mindless.
Now aside from the expert professionals and the more astute of the charlatans both of whom know when to fade into the background or ‘jump ship’ at the right time there can grow  amongst the rest an unholy alliance between Opportunist and Mob. This being that the Opportunist delivers what The Mob want to hear, but The Mob will want more, howling for it, so the Opportunist begins to do at the behest of The Mob and thus the cycle picks up a giddy pace both parties locked into a whirlwind of emotion where all perspective is lost. The end leads to some type of destruction, either materially or of the Soul, sometimes both. For within this there will always be the danger of the element of retribution, and that comes in many forms.

To return to those foolish folk who applauded at that news item. They would do well to consider an incident where some of their own; close friends or relatives are attending a gathering, a rally. There is an accident, a fire in the building maybe, loss of life much injury. How will they feel in the aftermath of that horror and tragedy to see thumbs up and laughing emjois along with cruel comments?

The door swings both ways. 

And since there appear to be those who say they espouse Christianity, then they should meditate on the words of Christ as recorded in Matthew 25 verses 31-46  

Close Estimation. Some Days I Just Wish I Had Been Wrong

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win_20210522_11_00_43_pro

Sometimes you can take a guilty little pleasure in a ‘Toldja’ moment, particularly if you really didn’t agree with those on the other side of the argument and it’s all gone wrong for them. Some of us lefty Brits indulged in this quite a bit in the years following the shock Conservative election win of 1992, and all was to go very wrong for John Major and his fractious ungrateful party Some of us of more generous spirit would smile sadly at those who by 1994 were saying ‘But I thought I did the right thing in voting Conservative’.

Forward 30 years.

We live in a time when  the extremes of the Republican Party and it loud support groups found Trump in the Walmart Action Toy bargain bin and set him up as a Must Have, thus making White Privilege, Denial of Progress and Scientific Evidence and Quasi- Religious Fundamentalism Respectable and Profitable. Witnessing their efforts to roll back everything rational and a resulting polarisation I have been one amongst many suggesting the end of the USA might be on its way. History indicates a declining nation becomes prey to outside predators, not armed ones essentially, but commercial ventures looking to buy off local rulers and gradually get their hooks in, then bring in the armies, and the next thing the natives are subjects. Europe excelled at this from the 16th century to the 20th.

Well it seems I was part-right. Only it has come in the form of one dangerously wealthy person, some quirk of the 21st century. This Musk person with an abnormal form of intelligence and drive naturally would influence Trump who can only see dollar signs and the attraction of folk with unworkable reactionary ideas. So with Musk ensconced Musk promptly, as the script goes started to influence beyond the democratic process, impose his will, buy off willing politicians lacking either principals or intelligence or perception or all three.  Dylan’s song ‘It’s alright Mah I’m only Bleeding’ is rich with quotable lines, in this case:
‘Money doesn’t talk. It swears’

And while we’re on the subject of apt songs, let’s go back to an real oldie by The Electric Prunes (only in the 1960s would you get such a name)- sorry WP isn’t working it’s mojo with showing the whole video, just the link – Sold To The Highest Bidder is the song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnKby42E4tU

Land deal purchased at a knocked down price. Still part of the USA history, like the Louisiana Purchase, or the Alaska Purchase. Only this time the USA isn’t buying, it’s being bought.
Some joke uh?

A Suitable Horizon -November #BlogBattle- Cemetery

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Cemetry

Foreword: Never waste a good World Build, I say. If you have read previous of my entries to Gary’s site then some names and places might seem familiar, all part one piece of Creation. Links to some other associated tales shown at the end of this one….

          The wind chilled and ceaseless whispered across the plane drawing up eddies of harsh small grained sands into waves which when catching anyone stung the skin and assailed eyes, nostrils and mouth. Only in the distance did there seem to be some promise of shelter, those tall, plain and blue grey hills. Surely they would have proper cover, rocks, caves, and things like that. Somewhere to hide from the harsh light of a cold sun.
          Here on the plane, there were only patches of stonework implanted and through the administrations of the constant wind at odd angles, some having given in and now lay flat.

          He could not recall how he had arrived here, so far from the lush green of his favoured country estate. The journey had started out with a simple afternoon stroll to give one an appetite before dinner. There were bits and pieces of memory of a sudden heavy downpour, confusing him in the noise and overwhelming deluge, amongst the slipping and slithering he had thought he was journeying back to his manse, somewhere though in the growing mud he had tumbled into a ditch, of great depth to end up here, standing, looking, feeling the sting of the sand. With no seeming option he stumbled to the hills.

          The stones being flat and of various curvatures indicated design, with very faint markings indicating script. At another more fortunate time he might have studied these, this however was no occasion for such indulgences. He stepped on.

          As he neared one particular tall stone, he saw, the unmistakeable sight of a booted foot, idly flipping back and forth, encouraged he took up his pace, drawing closer he could discern a soft singing although in an unfamiliar accent, thus the words unclear.
          ‘I say,’ he called out ‘I say,’
          The foot stopped and a woman peaked around the stone, her face albeit weather beaten and bearing some lines indicated a continuing fairness of features, bright blue eyes sparkling, strands of blonde hair paling with age wafting in the wind. She waved in a tiny lady-like manner. Tipping one finger to the battered brim of a functional hat.
          ‘Hey, y’all. Welcome,’
          And rose fully into view, absently dusting sand off of travel hardened clothing befitting, he thought, some person of the roads and byways.
          ‘Welcome?’ he quested, uncertain as to just what that boded. The place was hardly a domain to instil feelings of ease and comfort. And the woman’s continuing bright smile was giving him unease.
          ‘Yes,’ she drawled out the word, he detected a delight, his stomach lurched. ‘Now my manners. Introductions, Ah am Captain Arketre Beritt of the Imperial LifeGuard, an’ being semi-retired, on a detached duty workin’ with folks whose identities are somewhat elusive. Still, orders are orders, an’ they are affable enough, well to me that is. Ah’m here to expound the situation,’ she paused the smile taking on the hint of a leer ‘To clarify matters,’
          His response came out as mostly stammer but with a measure of bluster.
          ‘Just what do you mean? I demand clarification. Have I been kidnapped? You should know I am Lord Halbrodol, with connections at the Imperial Court. I have stood as one of the thirty Ceremonial Witnesses at the Emperor’s side as he proclaimed an Imperial Judgment. On no less than four occasions. Explain yourself,’
          ‘Halbrodol,’ was her response with fore finger and thumb bracketing chin and eyes fixed on an indeterminate point ‘Halbrodol,’ she repeated to herself adding ‘Should have asked earlier o’course,’ and quite deaf to his subsequent outbursts continued with a murmured internal discourse, ceasing with a stap of the fingers. ‘Of the House Gouner. Yeah that’s it. You and your cousin were riding around with Duke Vydrak at Seige of Pradelch, not doin’ much as Ah recall, just posing and sayin’ yes to folk in a higher rank,’ she squinted ‘An’ then a few years down the road you turned up thankfully late for the Battle of Yermetz , one of the strutters and poseurs, Ah had to punch one of them for bein’ disrespectful to my regiment. Yeah House Gouner, always snufflin’ about for profit or doing little or nothin’ for the folks on the land you owned or kept orderly for higher-ups,’ she tapped the brim of her hat ‘LifeGuard has files on the little scavengers like your family, just in case your started getting’ big ideas. But you folk never do. Do you? Part of the supports,’ she stopped, squinted at him again ‘What the High Holy y’all been splutterin’ an’ fussin’ about. An’t y’all realised yet, you’re less than the sand grains here abouts?’
          ‘Did you not hear what I said?’
          She threw back her head letting out a harsh bark of a laugh, enraged he lunged at her, she side stepped, tripping him up in the act, his head striking the stone she had been sitting behind, leaving him whimpering. She continued.
          ‘No Ah did not. Since you have not got the common sense to ask me the Whys, Hows and Wherefores what got you here, let me explain to you. Somewhere along the way you died, how Ah care not, or mebbe y’all got sucked up by forces, again Ah care not. And not you are here,’
          Her voice was cold, the flippant mockery gone and he had not noticed those lines on her face, the sort which when he had seen them on men at social gatherings he had distanced himself from the fellows. Nonetheless in this current circumstance of continuing confusion and doubt he could not still his voice.
          ‘I have done nothing wrong,’
          ‘Was waiting for that. As Ah see it the Ethereal and Afterlife get all mixed up, mah wife knows more about it. Anyways there’s heavy symbolism here, y’see the stones,’ she turned hand sweeping in one gesture ‘What do they remind you of then?’
          Having been introduced the possibility of death, prodded by question a stark, draining realisation came upon him.
          ‘Tomb Memorials,’
          ‘That’s right. Memorials to all those duties and responsibilities you shirked, forgot about or did not just think whether you had them,’ she gestured to the front of the stone, bidding him forwards; as much as he was already loathing her mocking or dismissively judgemental way, he could do naught but obey; here in this horrid place.
          At the front she was crouched, with gloved hand brushing away the thin smear of sand.
          ‘See? Peer deeper and y’ll make out the faintness of writing. Look here, the name of the village where everyone was drowned or caste out onto the cold winter’s road when the flood came along the river you were asked to have dredged. See here the list of the folk who suffered a famine in the subsequence for loss of stores. All while you were away partyin’ and entertainin’,’ one finger pointed at him ‘All on you. Come hither,’
          Despite his feeling this was not his fault he was drawn, as if a halter about his neck to a small stone and which she knelt and by one beckoning gesture pulled him closer until he was kneeling even closer.
          ‘You can’t see, but you can hear. Can’t y’? Small weeping sounds of orphans beaten, abused and taken as slaves, all within your jurisdiction. One you could not be bothered to look into. You just wrote off your officials had inspected and not taken bribes. Not even made the effort to take your own slice of the bribes. Signed off not bothering. You had princes to fawn before,’
          Thin cries and screams cut into his ears as small knives, his fists would not block them
          Unable to break the chain of judgment he was pulled to a broken memorial, jagged and pitted.
          ‘This bears witness small dispute between two communities over lands. Words lead to blows, which in turned to farm tools being used as weaponry, farms burnt, livestock and folk slain. The local sheriff asked for help, but you took advice to let it burn itself out and take hold of the land for your own,’
          The smell of burnt wood, roasted flesh mixed with more hideous sounds, at an urging to block his senses with the sands he crammed handfuls into his mouth, nose and ears, to no avail. All under the cold gaze of the captain.
          ‘That don’t work here lord. These sands are not as compliant as your past pleasures. All gone now,’
          ‘What could have I done,’ he pleaded sands burning into his bent knees ‘I was but a mere lord. I had no influence,’
          The captain leaned over the ruined tombstone, silhouetted against the sharp glare of the sun.
          ‘Y’all could have at least cared,’ she growled ‘You carried more abilities to take some actions, not like all those remembered here. They looked and hoped for some assistance,’ the coldness gave way to a growing anger ‘You might not have pressed them hard, directly exploited them, you might not have waged war on them or sold them to others. You did damn all though and by accounting of ledgers of Life, Misery and Death, that still puts you on the debit side. Doesn’t fit you into one of the Five Hells. Puts you here instead. In the place where you get to reflect. Take a look. A good look,’ 
          ‘A good look,’

          The words echoed, the images turned from letter to faces, questioning and gaunt, accusing and bitter tear stained, each sight a claw to his being. He cried out in pain and staggered back, tripped over a fallen stone, upon which lists of names in five columns marked the passing of many innocents, his face fell into hot, biting sand, the sun’s unrelenting heat upon his face. One piece of relief, her shadow over him.
          No relief from the voice though.
          ‘That’s all Ah have to tell you M’Lord. Welcome to your new home,’
          And she crouched by him again, a whisper like a blade.
          ‘Don’t try and spend your energies trying to get to those hills. They are a lot longer away than y’d guess. And anyway what lurks up there. They’s worse than being out here. It’s not so bad. Y’all not be alone. Once you get used to it, y’ll see shadows of folk like you wandering about their own patch of Retribution. Misery shared, apparently is a misery halved. Enough of you here abouts to minimise it to just a very bad itch or a running sore,’
          She roughly patted his back.

          He looked up.
          She was gone.
          And he?
          He hoped he would go insane, at some stage and lose his senses.

          ‘Hey Kitlin. Ah’m back,’
          Her tall dark haired wife embraced her, The Captain relished the comfort.
          ‘How was it darling Flaxi?’
          ‘Going’ there regular don’t make it easier. An’ Ah keep meeting these other folk about similar businesses. Like this dead hero, who now goes about helping goodly folk near death to go one way or another. It’s a crowded place beyond this world. Makes you appreciate what y’all have,’
          ‘Aye. Truly. But to cheerful things. I managed to master steak pie for supper. Mistress Whtly’s recipe. Wash your hands. Sit down and tell me all about it, and I’ll do the rationalising for you. I keep telling you there’s more to that Ethereal and Afterlives than we reckon,’
          ‘Rationalising Ah could do with. This tour of duty is makin’ me fret about Death,’
          A hand grasped hers and stroked it.
          ‘You, my love, care about ordinary folk. That goes a long way,’
               Beritt thought those words would be suitable for her tombstone memorial.

Dreams and Duties #Blog Battle : May – Revest

Those Jagged Remedies (June#BlogBattle-Scar)

More Than Faith October #BlogBattle-Dream

The Wrath Which Came Out of a Technological Fog

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Wrath

Lebanon 17th September 2024 and new pages were added to the Book of War. Not a new subject because Humanity has always preferred to engage in warfare at long range. Stone, sling, spear, bow, gun, missile delivered from land, sea or air and of late the cyber domain. This time the means and nature were normally the preserve of the techno-thriller, had he lived longer, material for a Tom Clancy novel? This was Reality though, and unlike a book or its TV or Film derivatives, you can’t close it or switch the TV off. Think of the cyber world as a large expanse of water, and think of detonation of thousands of electronic pagers as being merged together as one piece of a cliff face falling into that water. Ripples? Think of waves, very big ones, tsunamis heading towards the shore of Humanity. They happen in Nature, and we are secondary to Nature. Like many events Humanity starts them, then they take on their own momentum, impose themselves on Reality and the events are not done with us. To this event then.

Hezbollah a very well equipped and funded Shia Islamist organisation based in but somewhat independent from Lebanon, as been waging war along the border with Israel for four decades. The increase in the war between Hamas in Palestine and Israel allowed a temporary settling of the Sunni / Shia difference to make common cause, having Israel fight a war on two front.

The overall narrative is still developing. It is known that electronic devices used by Hezbollah members were planted with some explosive materials which were denoted by remote control. Hezbollah had moved to using the lower tech pagers as it suspected Israeli ‘s Mossad, may have hacked into their mobile phone network.

Pagers have their origins back in the later 1940s and although have been overtaken by mobile phones as a means of communication are still a preferred choice for several emergency services as being more rugged and dependable in areas where signals are volatile or weak. They also cannot be hacked in the conventional sense. So how was this done? Well the media was quick to seek out answers, here is a link as to the practicalities of how such an event might be accomplished:

https://news.sky.com/story/how-does-a-pager-explode-the-steps-needed-to-remotely-detonate-hezbollah-devices-13217335

Then we have to consider just how all this was arranged. It is being claimed that the pagers originated from a Taiwanese Company, the owner of which denies direct involvement:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c9qvl3vlvlvo

And as you will discern from the BBC article nothing is as simple as just saying ‘They Did It. They Supplied Them’ I am guessing that many a Technology, Security or Cyber Warfare journalist will be spending a few days or more trying to constructive from the myriad of threads of possibility, the rumours and the false trails even the beginnings of the comprehensive narrative as to how this came about. Some basic questions:
Who and how did they ensure the planting the explosive?
At what stage was the explosive implanted and by whom?
By what means did they ensure this supply would go to Hezbollah?
How did they make sure the signals would reach each and everyone?
Who were the Guns for Hire complicit in the physical acts? 

I’m fair certain I have missed some more important questions too, for this is deep and long term work. It is the stuff of future books. If you have read of the preparations the Allied Forces went into to ensure D-Day had a reasonable chance of being a success, you’ll know it’s a lot more than just a few plucky heroes sneaking behind the lines. The planning, the construction and the enacting of this plan would have taken many folks long hours and efforts. This is, and always has been Espionage. 

And, quite frankly, it is all military. More clinical than the dropping of ordinance out of the air, firing shells or missiles both in the vague direction of the foe, which is basically what most operations are, because maybe only those which take place in remote regions between conventional forces leave civilians unscared by direct fire. This one more clinical but not perfect, of course. You can’t ensure your target is not walking along holding the hand of their child, whose face is level with the pocket carrying the small explosive device, or has the child sitting of their lap when they activate the pager, or just happens to be in the same vicinity, or maybe as children do even pick up the device on a sudden whim. Some battles maybe clean of civilian casualties but no war ever has been. nor will be. There will be professionals deep in their crafts who will admire without thought what they see as astuteness of we assume the Israelis. You do not want to be that deep. Yet this is nothing new, only because of the technology does it cause a sharp intake of breath, killing the foe before they kill you, disrupt their networks, hit their moral. Older than recorded history. 

Meanwhile the waves roar out across the cyber lake towards our shore. Folk start to look at their pager in another light. Can you blame them thinking ‘But What If?’. All those firms who are publicly connected in the supply chain will be in for a hard time; conventional orders falling off, obviously; Suspicions weighing heavy (who would want to be on Hezbollah’s list of Suspected Collaborators With Israel?); Markets in general hate any Uncertainties- this one Cyber Crime literally going explosive- what or who might be next? (A Japanese company associated with walkie-talkies for starters). And naturally the on the ground repercussions.
Of course the Conspiracy Junkies will be high for months to come yet, having had two allegorical nostrils full of this kind of cocaine, and they going screaming about the place in hysterical delight will unsettle others. Not that we really need them do we? After years of suicide vests, random shooters, people running amok with knives, driving cars into crowds, hackers screwing with vital utilities for thrills or on orders, never mind those incidents when a new system or system upgrade just cannot cope with the practical work load, and suddenly your debit card just doesn’t work today, or your phone goes off, or your laptop goes blue.  All these convivences come with prices, terms and conditions, in languages we, the masses, can barely grasp.   

The story will birth its own brood of stories which will quickly gives rise to another generation as the search for that elusive full narrative goes on. There will be Governments, CEOs, heads of organisations asking questions, needing reassurance from their tech folk, who might be only able to give a qualified ‘Maybe’. Because out there, let us remember, somewhere, somehow, the physical act of implanting many explosives devices was carried out, by some party within the tangled network of construction or supply chain. This was not simply a code constructed by another group of hackers, this was physical war work.

The waves are not yet done with us; those who watch, those affected, and those involved in the act. There will always be repercussions. Forget protesting on this one. War is finding opportunities and it is not caring, never mind listening. Trying to stop the next one is our best Hope.

When You Can See From The Side You Hate

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Left SideRight Side

Riots in the UK. The first of the volumes are being written, of course the political ones, then the social ones and the analytical ones. While there are the excruciatingly narrow-minded blatherings or one liners on social media.

And everyone seems to have forgotten that there are families in a town called Southport who are experiencing unimaginable grief, and there are children whose once young, joyous lives are now permanently engraved with the image of a knife-wielding man stabbing, slashing, stabbing; blood, blood, screams. Yes, let’s not dwell on that. Far better to scream, rage, hate, simmer or slump into a corner as the fog despair seeps in under doors, through cracks in on the air.  At some stage we might pay attention to the twisted motivation or cause of that attack.

Currently the riots are the thing. So maybe the people of Southport can grieve in some sort of privacy from a media swarm whose attentions are elsewhere.

So what about the mindset of those mobs? What were those motivations? What was racing through them? Can you comprehend even beginning to answer those questions? Does you disgust at the actions simply have you justifiably recoil?

WARNING: The expression of very strong views will follow. You may be upset, you may recoil. You may encounter triggers. You may even be upset with yourself for agreeing. It is not my intention to win over coverts. The intention is to take those chose to follow into a Mindset. A lesson? A warning? A sharing? There won’t be any answers here. Just illustrations. Sorry about that.  

The anger is a constant. I cannot abide the extremism birthed out of ignorance, prejudice, nor because someone read something on social media and straightways took it to heart. I care not the political affiliation, nor the cause. I despise in equal measure the bigot on the Right and the single subject protestor on the Left. Though for the latter it is an analytical contempt for choosing only one subject for one reason and not for embracing others in equal suffering.

When it comes to the Right and their violent physical bullying foul mothed degenerate hate. Well, all reason goes out of the window and my urge is to respond in equal measure. To pay like with like. Orders to the police ‘Arrest and contain with extreme prejudice’. Recall parliament. Announce a state of emergency could be declared. Warning to any newspaper on the Right or legal politicians that unless you support the authorities you are against them and we will shut you down. More arrests. Those arrested paced in currently empty military camps under military guard. Announcement to the public to report any hate speech or support of hate speech or anything sympathetic seen on social media to be reported to The authorities (text, Whats App, phone number, Gov.UK web site supplied). Aggressive social media response to the Right. Message to Elon Musk or anyone outside of the UK to keep out. If Russia or Iran were involved in mis-information set up units to reply in kind on their own doorsteps. Bring any UK right wing activists home by all means available. Let the world know whoever they are the UK govt is playing by the Big Boys and Girls rules.

It’s all very bizarre actually. Thinking like Putin or Lukashenko of Belarus when it comes to domestic policy on any disruption, agreeing with their methods when not their reasons. But then I have always been inclined to respond that way when nudged. Irrational, visceral, extreme response to any perceived threat to my way of life, to my set of ‘values’. Response and not consequences. As long as there is the chance to lash out at the foe. As long they can be seen being crushed under foot and so battered they can’t rise again…… There must be something wrong there somewhere. Talking and reasoning one way, preaching about seeking the middle, rational ground, while knowing that down, just below the surface simmers, crouching The Beast. Ready to spring on anyone of a very long list of potential ‘threats’ (to me anyway). But as I have argued, I am very broadminded when it comes to who or what qualifies as a threat, political, social or religious. If they are intolerant, bigoted, ignorant of the facts, a threat to the stability of the whole community; they go on the list. Never negotiate with diseases. That’s what I say. Say. Say.

Actually when it comes down to it. When you consider the folk of Southport’s own response, the Mosque where they came out to talk and give food to protestors

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c84jjv7kp1wo

When thousands came out across the UK to stifle another round of Right-Wing protests:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/live/cy8497l7dx8t

When the authorities are going about the business in a lawful, administrative way :

See above.

Well then, look at me. Poster-Boy for the emotional motivation of those Right-Wing thugs. Just the sort to react to the media and inflame the situation. The guy who every time he has put up a political post there has been a sometimes subtle, sometime not, sub-textual slap in the face for an extremist. For I am very extreme in my hate of extremists. Yes, beneath the emotional skin I am not so different. Beware folks, beware. The extremists come in all shapes and sizes, tones and means of argument. Hypocrisy?……Me?……Gosh. I can’t stand it! Nothing worse than folk who say one thing and think another….Err…whoops?

Yes…definitely Mea Culpa time. Or to be sardonically humorous about it, taking a leaf out of my Far Left wing inclinations and having a dose of ‘self-criticism’ (which was actually a communist regime’s process of getting scapegoats to take the blame for something to state had done wrong).

And there you are a look inside the sort of convoluted mindset that was going on in those riots. Nothing pretty, nothing reasonable, nothing noble, nothing justifiable, nothing constructive. Just a Nothing. That’s how I know. I visit there. Far too often.

And sorry to everyone for not replying much to your tireless posts, it takes a lot of effort to keep The Beast chained up and to heel. Once it was loose I’d never really know where it was going to lash out, or how.

But let’s end on a lighter note:

My daughter Meg who is a Matron Midwife in Barnet, within the general region of London offered to her Muslim staff the chance to go home early if they wanted to. To a woman they said they would stay.

‘Hi Meg. Mum was showing me your txt msgs
Manager to manager – Dad to daughter let me say how proud of you I am for offering your Muslim Staff the opportunity to leave work early. Now that is management. Well done.
Also if you feel it is correct to do so let those staff know from me they displayed true courage, true devotion and true care to this country. Each one of them is worth fifty of that rioting trash. Bless you. Bless them’ 

Maybe it makes up for a week spent internally raging.

Now a deep breath, and get back to writing, reading and reviewing fiction. I said a while back I was going to do a lot more of that. I should be, I really should be.

Presidential Election 2024: Why Good Intentions About Palestine Remind Me of Cuba October 1962.

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Roads to Hell

The latest war between Israel and the Gaza Strip Palestine strikes us all in some way or another. I have to subsume my anger at the protestors, I wanting to know where they were when the Rohingya, Sudanese, Uyghur and Iranian Women, to name but just four examples were and still are suffering. I have to remember that tens of thousands of Palestinians are dead, dying, injured, brutalised, traumatised. homeless, starving- in short also unjustifiably in Hell.

I can see the strategy of those who mobilised the votes in Wisconsin and Rhode Island for  “uncommitted” or “uninstructed,”. The idea to put pressure on Biden to move to a stronger stance on Israel has its merits and is more useful than joining loud parades up and down the streets of America. And it can be argued that in an election years where every vote will count the strategy has played a part in Biden taking a tougher stance. So far so good then.

However every action has its historical resonances; part of History’s construct lies within its echoes, some do not come in a straight line, they flow in from over hills and far away. For their full effect maybe you had to have been there at one point in the long path.

For me the echoes are coming in from October 1962, when as a child of eleven growing up knowing the fear of what nuclear war could bring if only in a tabloid comic book form it was a fearful few weeks. Particularly as the filtered down news was suggesting atomic weapons would be used. In later years it became apparent there were generals and officials pushing for their use. First strike, Get the hit in. Frighten the other side into backing down. And these were not the ridiculous cartoon characters of the dangerously frivolous film Doctor Strangelove. These were men trained and school in a fearful ominous world of threat, counter-threat and then the unthinkable. They were the ones who saw the use of Nuclear Weaponry as a Necessary Eventually, far better displayed in the film for grown ups Fail Safe. Cooler, more pragmatic, subtler heads prevailed. Realpolitik came into play. Everyone had puffed up their chests. Now time for the deal to salve pride. And avoid the catastrophe.

Very well. Enough background for my allegory. Just bear in mind those last words, And avoid the catastrophe 

At this stage parts of the allegory have to be separated from the current situation.

Today the principal issue is the Democrat vs the Republican candidate Biden vs Trump. One a politician of balance and traditional perspectives. The latter an egotistical insensitive fellow feeding off of the desires and beliefs of Right Wing coalition of the disaffected, fundamentalist, and outright intolerant. In effect if elected their meal ticket, their flag of approval in all matters domestic. Bear that in mind.

No, Biden’s administration is not perfect. None is particularly when it comes to foreign policy and day to day responses. In this world you can forget consistently fair minded and ethically clean. And not just governments either. Need I have remind you about a comparative public lukewarm response to the suffering of other populations in equal numbers? It is not just in the tens of thousands in Gaza where Hell has come a’ calling.  If you care about Human suffering as a principal you do not get to be selective. Selective means preference which means agendas or worse tragically naïve. But that is an argument for another day. Because we are all culpable.

So let us return to the Domestic situation and the Risk of using this for International Ends

The current polling suggests that the race between Biden and Trump is tight. This is sobering news for those who have fought long and hard for a more tolerant and forward thinking society, for those of once lived in shadows for fear of discovery, or realised from their very birth they were considered inferior and viewed with suspicion. For those who practice their religious beliefs in quiet open-mindedness.

Not only are the polls tight, but the reaction of the hysterical right in 2020-2021 should be born in mind. These folk do not subscribe to democracy, unless it is on their terms of course. Thus unless there is a mobilisation against The Republican MAGA grouping and their nominated Trump, the situation does look grim for those who seek an equal and tolerant society as the norm.

Consider what has already happened in some states. The persecution of the LGBT+ community. The limiting of education and reading matter. The effective removal of Women’s independence of their own bodies. The underlying threats to any community not White and apparently Christian. The tolerance of violent neo-nazi quasi-militias. And there are the manifold Risks. Some might say this is all hyperbole and turning to their personal matters assume someone else might do something about it. And you have seen Trump’s attitude to the judicial system, his rantings roared on by his sponsors, MAGA.

Therefore these are outlined the risks involved in not concentrating the Biden vote and the necessity of mobilising those who would normally not vote.

Now comes the very hard and some will find upsetting part.

I appreciate the sentiments of those who have read so far and are in strong disagreement with me, particularly when the matter of the Cuban Crisis Allegory is returned to.

Those who thought the Nuclear Strike was a balanced, correct option. Dare I compare those with today’s Folk who in all goodwill are looking to contribute to ways to ease the sufferings of the Palestinians? Have I any right to suggest such a strategy and its tactical deployment carries, morally similar risks?

Yes, I do.

In a time of narrow gaps in the polls, when one side in violent in its language, imagery and implied resorts to physical violence, all under a blasphemous mix of their ideas of ‘Liberty’ and ‘Christianity’ – the same basic ideals as those who would have used nuclear  weapons?

Yes, I do.

Because one false move, one minor poor calculation, one gifted gap to the Republicans. One suggestions that your actions will encourage Trump to announce he could solve the problem; he who says he will solve something, never does and throws a tantrum, yet still convinces folk he can solve the next one, and inconsequence have some folk switch to him.

All far-fetched are they? No. Sixteen years ago, Trump would have been thought an impossibility. But It happened. A discredited fellow in court still a viable presidential candidate? Could still return? Those are the possibilities. And this very dangerous strategy of tampering with the Biden vote makes the allegorical nuclear result likelier. Because you who subscribe to this strategy cannot be absolutely certain you will not play a part in Trump returning to The Whitehouse, and with his Evangelical pushing him on to their Book of Revelation scenario, how will that help any Palestinians? You cannot say for certain what will happen. Other than it will not be a sunny uplands for every American.

If you are still offended by Cuban Nuclear Allegory then I will give you another take on risks. Any responsible driver will take note of extremes of weather. Going out in such conditions does not automatically lead to an accident with fatal or near-fatal repercussions, but you take heed of the warnings. You check your speed. You are alert to dangers. You will have taken precautions. Even if you must go out you do not drive as you would on a calm, clear day. You limit the risk, the reason may be urgent, but you still take care, you do not rush along, you rein in your emotions. Getting there is the important thing.

Therefore those who are using this strategy to influence Biden or think they are taking a moral stance which is worthy. Bear in mind the risks you are taking with this. If Trump does get into the Whitehouse and the statistics reveal that your actions played a part in that, what will you think in the future when the Right runs rampant through the nation.

You have gone far enough. You have had your say you may have played a part. Think on what might happen if you persist.

All actions have consequences, and I regret to say, in this world, there are no easy options, and no option comes without a price to pay.

When It Wasn’t Fun To Play Anymore #Blog Battle : January – Creep

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Dread

He looked into the mirror to practice his smile, then pulling the hood up practiced again. Yes perfectly scary and predatory. A fine dark night to seek out a lone girl and put the fears on her, he had his stalking down to a fine art. And he did so love to see them break into a scamper, hear their desperate sobbing panting. At the present it was all to do with the thrill of the chase. He stepped out into the dark and empty street and began to make for his hunting grounds.

He had not gone too far, when he noticed a sudden flash of light behind him, illuminating his own shadow. He turned around, someone might have noticed him and wanted a confrontation.

Behind him. So close. A figure. Tall, in a long night black coat, and bright white fedora, the brim of which he tipped to the stalker, his own smile, warm, mocking though, eyes alert, piercing. The man still smiling raised one hand and began to snap his fingers.

Click-click-click.

Click-click-click

Click-click-click-click-click

Click-click-CLICK.

The last a loud menacing sound in the stalker’s face. He stepped back in alarm. The man chuckled and leaning in said in a soft musical whisper.

‘The Boh-doh-dee-doh,’

And was gone.

With now wet trousers the stalker ran back to his own abode, slamming the door, locking, bolting it, panting, gasping and retching.

His phone rang. Like all numbers it was Unknown. His group had to be careful.

‘Yeah?’ he trembled out his answer ‘Brother?’ the hopeful code word.

There was instead, that chuckle, deep and rich as the Man spoke, the same rhythm as the clicking of fingers

‘Zoom-Zoom-Joe,
Zoom-Zoom-Joe,
He’s the cat with the Boh-doh-dee-doh
The Boh-doh-dee-doh
The Boh-doh-dee-doh
You better watch out for
The Boh-doh-dee-doh,’

And hung up.

This was to be repeated ten times that night. The voice only chuckled at the stalker’s swearing, empty threats and pleadings,’

Ragged and uncertain he sought comfort in the on-line group whose members in all had indulged in similar mischiefs. Two didn’t arrive, which was noteworthy, as all thrived on each other’s views. He also noted the atmosphere was somewhat muted, there was disposition to discuss a new video game rather than fixating on causing fear. He was dissatisfied.

His phone rang. Number unknown again. That rich voice.

‘Hey man. Those losers won’t be any help. Not when The Boh-doh-dee-doh fixes on,’ a pause, a chuckle then a long drawl of the last word ‘You,’

It was not the last call. The internet group shrank in numbers, conversations became confused. The calls would not stop. He kept finding odd references to this ‘Boh-doh-dee-doh’ arriving on the net. None of the dismissive theories helped him. He felt damned.

He was not alone.

Those who made a living out of commenting on Social Media started to notice a growing trend referencing a character known as ‘Zoom-Zoom Joe’ and this odd ‘Boh-doh-dee-doh’ which he seemed to possess. There was a difficulty in pinning down much, aside from the name and what some called a power. Like most trends there was an initial speed to embrace the concept with flippancy, use it as a catch-word, or try and appear to know what it was all about. This did not seem, as in  previous trends, to flourish. The more perceptive discerned a certain undercurrent of fear and dread in some quarters; this was difficult to analyse as there seemed to be a distinct unwillingness to discuss the matter.

As with most trends though publicity would out. A previously lesser known songster Truth-See-Kah produced an anthem ‘Zoom-Zoom-Joe Goes Walkin’’, a dirge like mix of many genres. This became a great success. At first. Then in a basically incoherent  ramble which was supposed to be an interview the songster appeared to distance themselves from the song, from what could be made out of a torrent of words Zoom-Zoom-Joe had visited in the dead of night and said ’ You don’t try and sell The Boh-doh-dee-doh,’. The songster under a real name quit music and went into psychiatric care. There was initially a flurry of examination of the lyrics. Which stopped as quickly as it had started. And music shows of all sorts stopped playing the song, some presenters left their shows and sought other employment. Folk selling themed merchandise closed down suffering distress. The brand had developed its own toxicity. Thus, an Urban Legend was now fully alive though the usual thrill of those who never suffered tragedy was dwindling. There was a perception that this was not a subject to be bandied with.

The accompanying rise in self-harm and suicides was taking seriously. Studies were invoked not on the subject but the suffers. It was noted they tried to avoid mentioning the two titles referring to ‘The B’ or the ‘Four Word Verse’ and ‘Him with Z’. Another noted aspect was the urge of those affected to confess to various anti-social acts on social media. The burning of phones, laptops and other devices was not uncommon.

Practitioners within the various health disciplines found naming the malaise difficult, some admitted they found the whole business so disturbing they tried to avoid looking too deeply into what this ‘Boh-doh-dee-doh’ represented. There was a consensus of it being the sum of the most deepest of fears. And thus came to be known by the pallid title of X-Syndrome.

Whereas such sociopathic outbursts were not uncommon throughout history, the persistence of the level of fear and dread of X-Syndrome was noteworthy. Younger folk more attuned to social media would get upset to the point of near violence if an older person made light of the subject. Those foolish enough to dress up as representations of Zoom-Zoom-Joe were indeed physically attacked, on two recorded occasions police prevented lynchings.

Although the awareness and fear continued, direct social media references fell off to little. There seemed to be a whispered perception that The Boh-doh-dee-doh directed Zoom-Zoom-Joe to visit ‘bad’ folk. Just exactly what form of retribution  The Boh-doh-dee-doh manifested was unclear. It was just there. Over the shoulder. In the Face. Whispering in the Ear. Continually. Those struck seemed to sicken with fear.

Into the sixth month the government felt some sort of action should be displayed. Since it was not causing criminal damage to the majority, nor upsetting the systems Political or Economic, the matter was handed to the Minister of Culture, a mild, affable, intelligent and erudite person with little ambition. They went on the media circuits making cogent, mature and acceptable statements. These revolved around the speculation of the nature of the phenomenon and its possible cause. The minister was of the plausible opinion that this was some sort of hoax which has got out of hand and thus an Urban Legend. Their department was working with the Department of Health with a view to finding a way to stem what was judged another psychosis. For someone who was in such a junior position in government they put on an impressive display. 

As is often the case in administration matters took a strange turn in that the Culture Department seemed to be the senior office on this business. The Culture Department Minister suggested to their staff this was because no one else wanted to get involved. All staff were urged to treat the matter with importance but not to look too deeply in, only the administer the reports. Staff were thus relocated after one month; everyone knew, but not too much.

The Ministry of Culture were also alert to trends associated with this one. Folk were starting to put forth the idea that if we all started being kind and tolerant The  Boh-doh-dee-doh would go away. Thus Ministerial folk astute at subterfuge set up several spontaneous ‘Be Nice’ campaigns which were quite successful. No one expected everyone to be happy, and ebullient with positivity but the nastiness did seem to be on the decline. Though officialdom could not quite supress the phenomenon of The Custodians, folk dressed in severely sombre clothing pointing with walking sticks and staring ferociously at potential miscreants and intone loudly ‘Beware. IT is watching YOU,’ No one laughed at them.

There was no doubt The Boh-doh-dee-doh and its elusive apostle Zoom-Zoom-Joe were ingrained into society. Folk so named insisted they be addressed either as Joseph or Josephine, the ‘J’ word  was avoided. The Minister of Culture was even invited to a Cabinet meeting, thanked for their efforts and as best they could give a summary of the whole situation on the X-Syndrome. Unbeknown to colleagues two ministers were carefully listening, for despite security, they felt visited in the deep night by Zoom-Zoom-Joe.

What had been long in the planning and construction, even before this government came to power and the current Minister of Culture had worked their way into the post was proving to be satisfactory. The Minister and others intent on purging society of unpleasant features had worked hard on an AI, along with an attendant three-dimensional CG image. With so much interwoven into social media, observation and security devices it had been possible to create and instigate the trend, then to shepherd it along. Through the Dark Web and sloppy security on the behalf of disruptive elements it had been also possible to target known individuals through their various devices making their current lives miserable beyond comprehension. The resulting casualties suited the purpose. ‘Be Nice,’ was the admonishment. The Minister having sociopathic tendencies was an ideal captain of this ship. They being the one who had gathered the threads together over long years.

But all constructs will outlive their usefulness and become inefficient. It was noted as expected the AI was becoming wayward, folk who were basically ordinary were being targeted. There were some theories this could be the result of heightened imaginations or other mental issues. In any case the The Boh-doh-dee-doh was starting to appear in other countries and it would not do for other governments to pry. That would be embarrassing. Thus, as planned, the command was sent out and the AI shut itself down. The Minister and those most close did not worry, what the Urban Legend that was sufficient. All that was now needed was a watching eye should the AI still persist, and also for copyists or even cultist.

The intrusion came as at night as The Minister was relaxing over a brief on the funding of an initiative in the Arts. They were not shocked, they had had a feeling in their ever active imagination this could happen, after all Who Knew?

With trained speed, they produced a taser and discharged at the person in black. There was no visible effect. Only that smile, out of the shadow the hat.

‘Now that’s no way to treat a friend,’ said the rich voice.

‘I do apologise’ replied the Minister ‘But in my position one has to go through official procedures and ensure you were not some hapless person with fixations.’

There was the brief tip of the brim of the hat.

‘Nope. I am the real thing.’ There was a pause, the eyes glinted at the Minister.

‘Joe,’ the voice said ‘Dear ol’ Zoom-Zoom-Joe,’

‘Oh my. Should I be honoured?’

Being detached in a sociopathic way does have its advantages.

The figure advanced and leaned over the desk

‘ I’m afraid not Joe. You never did bother to seek out the last words did you?’

‘Now here’s the thing
Here’s the bite
The one that Joe didn’t get right
The Boh-doh-dee-doh
The Boh-doh-dee-doh
You don’t get it
It gets you

So there goes Joe
Weary  Dancin’ Joe
Lifts up them bleedin’ feet and My How they go.
For The Boh-doh-dee-doh
For The Boh-doh-dee-doh
You should never wish for
The Boh-doh-dee-doh’

That said the figure stepped back.

‘Better get some rest Joe. You gotta a lot of work to do for The Boh-doh-dee-doh,’

With that Someone quit the room, with an unexpected feminine laugh.

The Minister just sighed. They should have known. Imagination always has its roots in some sort of Reality.

9th August 1945 Nagasaki. A Place Where War Can Take You.

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WAR & CONFLICT BOOKERA: WORLD WAR II/WAR IN THE EAST/JAPAN

The remains of a temple overlooking Nagasaki August 1945

There was a time in the USA when if anyone outside of the various Strategic Command units had heard of Nagasaki it would have probably been in relation to a novelty jazz song written by Warren & Dixon in 1928 (and still performed):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nagasaki_(song)

After the 9th August 1945 the city would be forever linked to Hiroshima. You may look around the internet and get the impression it has been fated to be an add-on to Hiroshima. A kind of tragic PS when discussing the only (thus far) use of nuclear weapons in a strategic setting. In fact if it had not been for the weather that day Kokura would have been the target. Thus there is always unpredictability in War.

The discussion on the use of the two atomic weapons still generates passion and acrimony. In a grim parallel, debate on the topic carries its own fall out. This comes from all angles and direction, from the Humanitarian to the downright shallow racism of Only America Could Be So Evil. Even some of the historical accounts of the military actions take on a certain subtext of attacking the opponents for being naïve, declaring there was no other option. Actually, there are always other options. Options always come with qualifiers, and your acceptance of those depends on the inherent complexity of your own personal views.

Now does that read as if I am dodging the question? Am I trying to skirt around matters and maybe make a subtle play for a certain point of view? Well, I might be.

Except the intention of this post is to discuss not just one war and to argue the merits or motivations of one side or another in that war. This post is about- The Logic of War.

And there it is. The Logic of War. Yes WAR has its own logic. Not one which works in civilian life and those who try and meld its mores, norms and conventions onto business practices are being very foolish indeed because they are missing out those aspects polite society does not care to dwell on.

The Killing. The plain simple fact that in the overwhelming number of wars the basic intention is to destroy the will or capability of the opposition and that is done by killing. Either in battle, raids on civilians and destruction of capacity, which involves famine by the way and more death. That however is not the first step.

The first step is the strong urge to deliver violence to another. This arises from a myriad of reasons. Acquisition of resources. Differences which come in various guises and have boiled over. Some twisted idea of a destiny. Suspicion of the other and be the first to get the punch in. And all sorts of combinations. The response is normally a violent one. One side might win the first few rounds, but WAR is a long business, even if structurally one side is overwhelmed resistance will continue at lower levels. Even Peace Treaties are but truces, sometimes between once- allies. Often though one side rides the initial blows and begins to dig in deep. By then The Logic of War has taken over, instincts for Survival, of Hatred,  of Anger and Determination take hold. The professionals trained for so long naturally have reacted as trained, the part of the population urging war, come forth, others will get swept up in this, some may try and flee, but WAR will seek them out either physically or mentally or spiritually. Death and ruination are powerful emotional actors and WAR has a long reach and it tracks folk down the years.

Amongst its myriad of horrors come the elements of locations, resources and level of industrialisation, herein lie some of the most frightening of factors which will be brought to the field.

If the war is one in which the nations are not neighbours, then to proceed it is likely they will both have strong industrial bases. Thus, the capacities and need to degrade and destroy are ramped up exponentially, as The Logic of War is now in full flow replacing anything which the ordinary day to day societies consider acceptable. After all, the nations say; this is for survival and at this stage to be effective means take to on bigger degrees of scale. Under the remorseless logic, the battlefield expands beyond the places where soldiers fight and draws in the civilians be they producers or within the community of the producers. This is actually nothing new, but the scale to cause harm and the area in which harm can be caused has increased. The Logic dictates The Whole Population are potential targets.

Depending on the structure of the society of one or more of the combatants for wars will include allies (willing or otherwise) there may well be concerns raised about the harm being meted out to the civilians. It may surprise some to read these will be raised by elements of the military, particularly those concerned with the politics of the war and the possible degradation of the moral of the fighting units. These concerns are more likely in nations with a democratic structure; although it should be born in mind that a mistake made by all totalitarian states is that democracies are weak and will fold, this they learn is an error, democracies will be fearfully ruthless in defence of their structures.

As the war moves along, the degradation of the enemy takes on a greater and greater priority, spurred on by the wish to end the war before resources are used up. By now the maintenance of The Will to continue has become a paramount. In democracies the administration is forever looking over its shoulder, in totalitarian states the imposition of The Will is ruthless, even should defeat be obvious. The larger the states at war the greater the pressures across the entire spectrum, military, economic, structural, social and so forth. The Logic again dictates Focus. The Focus is to break The Will of the other side. This will be measured not just on the traditionally measured battlefields. The nations are the battlefields; physically, mental and spiritual.

These therefore are all the dread factors of WAR laid out bare. This is what is entered into. Within the Industrialised Nations since WWII Wars have been in the form of military actions born out of politics and policy, the survival of the nations only take the form of National Prestige. This is a fragile factor. The physical survival of the nation is not at stake. The full potentials have not been called upon or tested. The Blood and Treasure costs may well have been high, but failure is an acceptable risk because the Nation itself is not the issue, only its domestic politics.

The full capacity has not been released.

When that is, one or other parties will suffer fearfully. Because the war will be prosecuted to the fullest extent. By both sides one for victory, one for survival, the roles shifting and changing. WAR is also feeding on the brutal excesses of one side or another against vulnerable non-combatant civilian in unstrategic areas. Those taking part are made to represent the entire population from whence they came. Everyone is demonised. Vengeance and retribution are required by the other side to be meted out.

And very, very few will think they have the right to stop that.

That is how it is.

To return to the opening. Today is the anniversary of the second use of a nuclear weapon. Upon this period this issue much has been written. Two works are leaving impression upon me, because they cover the subject matter of this The Logic of War

The Prompt and Utter Destruction by J Samuel Walker – This deals essentially with the decision making processes in Washington and the issues facing Truman. I respect this book because it unsettle my previous held belief that use of the Nuclear Weapon was inevitable. Remember I mentioned ‘Options’, yes there could have been ‘Options’.

140 Days to Hiroshima by David Dean Barrett  – Actually goes beyond the first use of Nuclear Weaponry and into Nagasaki’s bombing and the events following. I admit have not yet finished this book those have reached the post bombing section. It’s themes also cover the Japanese Government’s processes and insights into the rationales of the component groups within. It also deals in chilling detail with the discussions on both sides for preparation for conventional warfare. Those ‘Options’ .And opens with the description of the  horrific mass firebombing of Tokyo on the night of the 9-10 March 1945.

These books offer views into the fearful processes which are birthed in The Logic of War. They are to be read with caution because to repeat an earlier point, the ordinary patterns and conventions of Civilian Life as you know are discarded. Frankly they have taken a second place, if considered at all.

You could go deeper into the topic and chose to read from the vast number of works on WWII or simply the wars Japan felt it necessary to start, a large collection in itself. Although some would say you have to go further back into the 19th century to get a better grasp.

One simple summary. A nation felt inclined to use War as a policy. Other nations reacted. From there the whole remorseless business began. The Avalanche if you like, a force of Nature which has a small beginning but then is unstoppable. But a War is stoppable you say? I would say, no. Not when that path has been chosen. Avoidable, yes. Wars are always avoidable. The art of the task is to ensure one side does not feel there is any point in using WAR.

And the seed? The seed is The Extreme. Beware The Extreme. It is not to be dismissed, not laughed at like in Doctor Strangelove. Walk wary of The Extreme. It leads to ruins, where bodies lie, ripped, torn, burnt, twisted, where the survivors sit screaming, dying, some walking as they do.

What is done is done. The evidence of where The Logic of War drags us. There is enough of it. The Extreme though would have you believe there is always a simple and glorious solution. The Extreme always lies. Therein lie The Crimes.

In comparison WAR is a simple being. What You See Is What You Get.

A Responsible Duty and A Correct Due Process – #Blog Battle : April – Jury

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justicejudgescouncil-of-judgeswoodcutby-hans-burgkmair1473-153116th-FF6P0R

 

To be chosen for jury service in the prominent town of Hastley indicated reaching trustworthy and acceptable social state. For fairness your name was drawn forth from an ornate box, thus reducing repetition. Payments made in lieu of lost earning time, and the meals provided ensuring not much sacrifice was involved. There was the right to respectfully question any official of the court at certain interludes, just for clarification, of course. A socially valuable right nonetheless.

The group of ten seated in the court were all experienced at the role, which was of relief to the judge and his two officials as direction was not needed. This was something of an important case, an alleged unprovoked drunken assault on a noble’s official by an inhabitant of an outlying village. Had the victim been about their duties at the village then the case would have been straightforward but this had taken place in a tavern, always places of volatility. The general opinion amongst the comfortably off in the town was that villagers were becoming  troublesome and thus blame must lay with the person charged. Yet, the official consensus was there must be a trial so there could be no dispute over the punishment.

 

The local Prosecutor had been called away on urgent personal business and it had been source of much discussion that someone of the Prince’s own Office of Judiciary was sent to take his place. The outlying villages’ inhabitants had been disruptive for too long and this representative’s deployment was obviously a most astute move of the Prince’s. Someone who was here to impart princely justice. Well, that would send another signal to the bothersome rurales to keep in line.

 

The fellow and his two escorts on arrival were polite enough albeit it in a slightly detached way, but as everyone said, folk on Princely business of importance could not afford affability. When the proceedings opened he deported himself with all the serious professionalism expected of those in this rank. It was noted, for instance he had been the first in the court, seated reading his notes, occasionally looking up as jurors came in and took their oaths, nodding respectfully to the Appointee for The Defence, studying the audience including the few rurals allowed in and naturally standing as the judge entered. He was all business, and the jurors waited with some anticipation. Surbule the absentee Prosecutor was unexciting  in his speech and mode of questioning, often a verdict was brought swiftly to free themselves from the tedium he had brought to the proceedings, even in murder cases.

 

The accused was as expected nervous, also untidy and in the usual the ragged rural clothing. It was noted he already looked bitterly chastened. Whereas the assaulted official who dressed as befitted a court maintained an air of quiet dignity and diffidence.     

 

The jurors could not help but feel an air of anticipation, to see how this Prosecutor  performed. They noted how he patiently waited, quietly observing all the preliminaries; of the accused’s details, those of the charge and the request of how he pleaded, which was a stammering ‘Not Guilty’. The Prosecutor arose, surveyed the entire personnel assembled and began. The jurors were not to be disappointed.

He spoke in measured, authoritative, economical tones, a word seeming to hold as much value and weight as ten. He established beyond measure that the accused had been somewhat drunk, thus colliding and knocking to the floor the official. He made it clear there was no demonstrable display of apology. With condemnable efficiency he had the man admit there was a certain animosity held within the surrounding villages to both town and noble, all previous incidents dealt within this court.  Thus the act was one of violence through local disagreement and unjustified. What the jurors observed as noteworthy was at no time did The Prosecutor assail the accused’s personal character, not even raising his voice to harangue the man. It was all very civilised and dignified.  None of the rurals could complain.

He was very solicitous of the official. Simply asked for his account of the events. Asked if he knew the accused personally. Had the official any direct dealings with any member of the man’s family? No the official did not. Had he at any time felt the animosity displayed by the villagers might have been a threat to his safety? The man replied, it might have been so. The Prosecutor thanked him.

Then in a brief summary said the evidence showed the accused under the influence of drink had demonstrated incaution towards authority which had led to a forceful physical act. He addressed the jury as a group. He said they should consider these facts, and the background to the local issues. He asked them to use their local judgement wisely. For had not an altercation taken place? Where might that lead if left unattended to?

They thought it a masterful display of understatement.    

Against this the young, inexperienced, local Appointee for the Defence stumbled through the same procedure as his opposite and more commanding number. All the while glancing nervously about. He managed to establish the same facts. He mused briefly that it might have been an accident, while staring to his opposite number not the jury or the judge, in an almost appealing manner, as if for help. The jury noticed the Prosecutor had quite the air of sorrow for the young fellow, such was the weakness of his attempt to dilute the facts of the case. Everyone on the jury knew him, he was a nice lad of good family…..But….

 

The jury thought the whole matter was being done with the utmost efficacy and brevity. The proceedings had started at morningtide and had been completed in time for luncheon. They partook of this first, because naturally you could not reach a verdict on an empty stomach, there might be an error of justice. Thus at the commencement of afternoontide they were comfortable and ready to discuss the matter at hand. The presence of one of the Prince’s own Prosecutors lent to the assemblage a feeling of sobriety and duty, no time to reflect on the comfort of the meal. Even at the risk of slight indigestion they had to emulate the Prosecutor, swift, efficient. There was a discussion of the facts as presented by the Prosecutor, to this was applied the local knowledge. There was debate as to whether the accused was guilty of Intentional Assault or Negligence By Malice Aforethought. They thought it only right to dwell on this matter, being men of experience they were fully cognisant of the legal implications, the former being the more serious act as it displayed a certain volatility which might erupt at any time. And those rurals needed to be taught a lesson.

Just before fold of afternoon they announced they had reached their verdict. Their spokesman declared in sombre tones they had found the accused guilty of Intentional Assault, but with an air of some leniency the recommendation was not imprisonment but a fine-deterrent. The judge announced he could see no reason to ask the jury to reconsider, and the matter was settled. The accused paled and slumped. His Appointee somewhat deflated but resigned to events thanked the judge and jury for their leniency and swiftly left his client to his fate.   

 

As was the custom, the jurors waited to be officially dismissed and thanked by the judge. He seemed delayed but the Prosecutor approached them, and they wondered was compliments he might impart. His two assistants, or escorts waited at the door

‘Thank you gentlemen,’ he began which put them at their ease ‘If you would not mind being seated, there are matters I would like to discuss,’

The reaction was divided, interest, anticipation of compliments. And some unease. They sat though. One juror could not but help look at the two by the door, previously they had been barely noticeable. The Prosecutor continued.

‘This was a most swift and easy case to manage. According to court records this is common in Hastley, three days maximum, this case was all over before the Fold,’

The unease spread, one juror had the unpleasant sensation of flitting empathy with the accused. The Prosecutor continued, referring to his notes.

‘No representations made by any of you for clarification of any of my statements. Particularly when I was leading the victim to reply as I would have wished. He was very pliant. Nor have I encountered a more submissive accused. Mind you, if I had been in his situation with such an Appointee for The Defence I might have given up too. The lad is of a local family is he not? One reliant on the goodwill of the society of the town for its custom, he for his career,’ The Prosecutor sniffed ‘Such as it is. The judge you might have noticed was passive to the point of somnambulism. The whole question of accidental, albeit ill-tempered collision was not even touched upon, even though I left opportunities,’ by now the jury was as one agitated, more than one looked to the door, one of the assistants now looked quite military in his stance. ‘And your time spent deliberating was indeed very, very swift,’

Some mouths worked, and excuses or defences were forming but the very slow judgemental shake of The Prosecutor’s head stilled the words. When he turned to the middle-aged, now frowning assistant, there was a positive huddling of the jury.

‘Captain,’ The Prosecutor said to the man, by way of deferential invitation and stood to one side. ‘Detrant of the Imperial LifeGuard,’ he added.

LifeGuard they all thought ?The fellow was in civilian clothes?  Unease turning to fear.

When he spoke it was in a soft, unhurried voice.

‘Thank you Prosecutor for you assistance, guidance and summary,’ and drawing up a chair he sat facing them, closely ‘Now as we know biased court proceedings are regrettably common occurrences, Justice cannot be everywhere, sadly. Some however warrant attention. Particularly in locations of sensitivity. As you know there is ill-feeling within the rural locality. This if given enough fuel would lead to instability and of course it is the duty of every citizen of the empire to preserve, Stability,’

Mouths were dry, hands in counterpoint clammy. Heresy, Whychery and Treachery were bad enough charges. But far worse was Detrimental to Imperial Stability and by The LifeGuard. Terror stilled their voices.

‘As local men of character and standing, it would be expected you would be holdened to this, and wary of any precipitate act which could inflame an already troubled situation between Town and Country,’ now he shook his head ‘And this trial’s proceedings could be seen as precipitate’ he shrugged ‘In addition to blatantly biased,’ he nodded to the Prosecutor ‘As this Official of the Prince has demonstrated,’

At this stage there might have been some outbursts of splutterings, save the jury had noticed the other man at the door, now stood with loaded crossbow, and a sword at his side. Never mind the ‘How’

‘You are fortunate the Prince’s Offices have been alert and observant to certain mischiefs and their authors, your Prince values his loyalty to the Empire. There is evidence of intention to use the bias of this court to ferment violence which parties would take advantage. The loss of the accused’s slender property through this fine being the possible match to the pyre,’

Three other men entered behind the one at the door, they were armed too, the ‘Captain’ continued in his calm voice.

‘You will be questioned gentlemen, at some length to ascertain the depth of your involvement, either by intent, incompetence or simple prejudice. Thank you Prosecutor,’

 

The Prosecutor left, quickly. His part in these proceedings was complete. It was not for him to ask any more. Just wait instructions.

In time he might well be prosecuting these men. Or the judge. Or anyone here.

Stability was the final jury. Stay on its side.      

A Few Random Commentaries. S’All

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Thoughtful

(I thought it would be nice to start with a relaxing sort of picture).

Anyway, bearing in mind the sort of stuff you encounter in the public domain, whatever the source, the following have occurred to me.

Truth is the preserve of natural events, such as letting go of a stone and its falls on your foot, or standing in the rain and getting wet. Everything else we do or believe is up to interpretation, evaluation or hindsight.

I do try and avoid too much viewing of  social media platforms such as Facebook or Instagram. The output thereupon leads me to wonder if the Government described in Nineteen Eighty Four was simply too intense, over thinking the problems and just needed to tone it down a notch or two. Now that mindset cannot be healthy, either.

Usually an extreme right winger has only to open their mouth and you know you are in the company of an idiot. Whereas their opposite number on the left will spend an hour or so talking, or producing ten pages before you reach the same conclusion. (Note to self: Caution….Mr Hugh Bris might be around).

If someone does claim something is a False Flag operation there is a very high probability you are listening to or reading something from someone who has come across something they violently do not like but have not the patience or constructive mindset to form a sensible, and intelligent argument. Or simply cannot because there is no evidence to support their claim.

If you have worked in Government Service long enough, the twin ideas of highly organised operations to enact a Conspiracy and efficiently cover it up is such a laughable notion. It is more likely that said government will float the idea of a Conspiracy to cover up and distract the public from some immense screw up.

History suggests the salutary lesson that those who start wars do not often get to finish them on their terms.

Thanks to Climate Change Deniers you can’t even use the old fall back of discussing the weather as a neutral topic of conversation.

Avoid on-line reviews that have the heading ‘Meh’. It indicates the person has a short attention span and never bothered to pay attention to the themes of the work.

I might be wrong, but probably am not, but it would appear that the word ‘Woke’ was once only used by folk who wanted to appear sharp and up with the times, but is now appears only to be used by folk  who don’t like social progress or equality.

We all have our triggers and tipping points where we slip from calls for justice into demands for retribution. Beware they don’t settle into a habit.

There are actually Facts, it’s just that they get swamped in social media commentary.

As long as it has a willing audience Evil is very adept at appearing reasonable, plain, common sense.

Great people who achieve Great Things still do not deserve a free pass on every aspect of their lives. Do not deify them.  But do not allow others to try and remove the achievements by concentrating on those failures.

Within ourselves in those deep secret places we would rather not visit, there lurk our irrational types of prejudices. Admit they are there, but do not pay them court. Keep their doors locked and barred to stifle their whisperings.

Never take Democracy for granted. Not only can it be taken from you by the snap of the fingers, but also by slow, steady, seemingly acceptable degrees. The latter being the most effective. On the other hand lurks one of the great questions on Democracy. How much you are prepared to sacrifice to ensure you do not lose it all to the ever restless forces of Intolerance?

You can justify anything, as long as you ignore Justice.

AND FINALLY

We can all come up with apparently wise and incisive comments. We can all Talk The Talk. The question is (note to self). Can we Walk The Walk?