Tag Archives: War

Antierra Manifesto – blog post #102

I force them to consider this, emphasizing that only by a miracle would all of them reach their destination alive.  I speak of the carriers which, even if enough of them are found to put in service, may be overloaded and crash, or succumb to the action of sand and wind in the desert storms.  I speak to them of the many hundreds of kilometers to cross with no access to cover or water.  Of roaming tribes of black people who hunt down trespassers in their territories and ritually kill them to eat.  Of giant snakes in the badlands beyond the borders of the desert.  But the gravest danger remains the possibility of discovery by computer sensors and being chased by Hyrete police, Elbre military forces or worse, hunted down by bounty hunters.  A shiver passes through me as I remember, so vividly, my first encounter with these hunters of human beings.  The group gathered around me feels my pain and remains silent.

End blog post #101
—————————
Start blog post #102

Chapter 40 – The Great Escape and Aftermath

After a peaceful and restful sleep, my bony frame tucked gently between the soft bodies of the young Tieka and the fighter Zel morning finds us going through our rituals as if nothing had changed.  But they have changed.  Many less men in the compound.  Less guards for these are weapons trained and were called to defend Hyrete from the Estáani attack.  We can still hear the firing of heavy guns far away to the north.  The unmistakable sound of military booted feet running through the streets can be heard even through the walls as men are brought from near-by towns to bolster the city’s defenses. 

Being simply trainer and handler, both Hudu and Huntu are again in the compound.  They acknowledge their women with the briefest of nods as Tieka files into the kitchens undoubtedly happy to escape the weapons training and Zel takes her place in the training line-up.  Hudu walks behind us then takes the place of the female trainer to spar with Zel.  Undoubtedly he wants to know what we spoke about and it’s relatively safer than usual to exchange words today.  I engage some of the trainees to teach them basic custom tricks that have been useful in saving many women’s lives in two-on-one combat situations.  Yes, our brave men still believe that if two men fight one woman they are being honourable.  It’s amazing what you can convince yourself of if you really believe in something.

A skimmer carrier sporting the Hyrete flag glides gently down by the doctor’s office after coming over a low wall.  Two men get out and disappear inside to emerge soon after, remount their carrier and disappear over the wall again.  Cydroids?  Most likely.  I continue the training with half a mind on my job.  I receive a stab wound for my carelessness and the young trainee who inflicts it appears devastated.  She freezes until I press her again, smile at her and give her the “Job well done” signal.  Hudu walks away pensive and racks his staff, rejoining Huntu at their table.  They talk rapidly and seriously.  Huntu signals for me to stop and come to their table.

Huntu speaks low while Hudu pretends to be giving me hell over something. “We have better plan now.  Have access to repair hangar for carriers.  Four large ones in for drive upgrade and one for burned flue.  Have friend in hangar, knows of plan, wants to join.  We can get carriers repaired, tested and ready in five, maybe six days.  Four carriers for sure, maybe five.”

“You trained in carrier piloting?” I ask him.

“No, only in yard, not in difficult conditions or terrain or when in heavy load.  Need trained pilots.  Friend in hangar, he good.  Need three, maybe four more pilots.  Or I can do if I get instruction and follow leader.” 

“This is good,”  I say, “do you know anything about the attack on the city?  Is it going to last?”

“Enemy dug in and using mid-range weapons on walls.  We are training ground troops to flush out and try maybe do what call pincer movement on them. Cut off reinforcements.  If enemy get no additional support from Estáan battle last maybe couple weeks, no more.”

“That is good too.  We are moving in the right direction.  This is time of big storms now so we can prepare to move in the next one.  There should be desert storms at the same time; there usually is.  I can get many women to join the escape but we need as many men preferably.  How many can a carrier transport take with weapons and provisions?”

Huntu replies, “Eight would be best.  It could handle ten depending on supplies.”

“Does this include the pilot?”  I ask him.  I need accuracy here, to get my complement of women together.

“Yes counts include all bodies.  So if get four vehicles, we take forty people.  Better like thirty two to thirty six.”

I return to the training until it is time to rack up the weapons, wash and eat.  We sit silently at our tables and soon the servers bring the food.  Tieka brushes my neck and whispers the kitchen Cydroid wants to know about transportation.  I quickly tell her we have a guarantee four large carrier transports with the possibility of five.  I add that each can carry eight to ten people depending on load of supplies. She tells me that two other kitchen gorok want to join our escape and have been briefed by one of the YBA Cydroids.  Again, this is good.  I enjoy the challenge but also the smoothness of this crazy plan. 

Two days later, with storms galore in the offing and the battle intensifying to the north of the city I have my complement of 18 women for the escape.  All are young and tough, including Tieka, for her desire not to fight has nothing to do with heart.  Quite the opposite.  She has declared her willingness to fight as well as anyone to defend the group.  News from the hangar indicate that the transports will be ready.  Three have already been tested but to avoid conscription by the military the head engineer has declared them as yet unfit for use.  They are parked, fuelled and ready.  Two to go. 

Via Tieka I hear there’s activity in the doctor’s place.  He has returned and gone to the false King with our plan.  We will get three of our pilots directly from the palace and they will join our escape.  So for the male complement, I’m still short.  I’ve got Hudu and Huntu, two from the hangars, both pilots, three from the palace, also pilots so we have extra should something happen to one of them.  Two Cydroids will also accompany the escape and will return with one of the carriers afterwards, crashing it into the deep desert and finding their way on foot to their landing site where they will join seven others in the ship and return to Koron.

Meanwhile under orders from the King much work is being done on the sensors and alarm systems all over our compound ostensibly to bolster security against infiltration by Estáani special forces.  That’s the other part of the plan happening.  The shunts are being installed by Bal’s trusty crew right under the noses of security people and the small complement of guards, mostly older men judged unfit for the rigors of open warfare in the sands.

It’s time for me to risk it all.  I carefully approach trainers I’ve done favours for over the years and explain our plan, one to one.  The life of trainers is boring, dull and dangerous in its own way.  They are often held responsible if a fighter fails her owner in some costly way.  They can be killed or ‘punished’ in a number of ways.  I offer them the dangers of freedom.  I gain five men that way. I need three more at the very least and more if possible; if we get the fifth carrier repaired on time.  Two of the handlers I consider close to friends and trustworthy, within limits. 

I approach them with my crazy idea of being free men to live with their own woman on an island in the sea with nothing to do but fish a little each day and wait for her to bring the cooked and prepared food.  “You could build a boat from trees that grow there and go sailing around the island and no one would ever be able to tell you where to go or what to do.  You can have your son to be with you, to teach and become your heir.  As it is none of you can ever afford to buy a son from the crèches, right?  You can’t have your own woman to lie down with in the night or to chase on the warm sands to catch and make love to whenever you feel the need.  What future do you have in this place?  If the wars get worse you will be sent out in the desert to get killed for people you hate anyway and what will you be protecting here?  None of it is yours.  You are as much slaves as we are.”

They have simple minds and I’m not really lying.  It could be the good life they all dream of sometimes.  I gain three men that way and stop my recruiting.  That’s it; we have our complement and are set.  Now it’s up to the engineers, the Cydroids and the weather.  We wait. Was it too easy? I feel serious discomfort in my mind but cannot locate the source. Maybe I’m nervous. Maybe I just want it all to be over.

End blog post #102

Antierra Manifesto – blog post #101

“Part three of the plan is much more chancy.  We need a particularly wicked desert wind storm combined with strong electrical discharges and heavy banks of clouds to blind any satellite sensors that may be operating.  We think there may be some but we have not found them while passing out of the atmosphere.  We do not think this world is under long-range interplanetary watch.”
End blog post #100

—————————-
Start blog post #101

“I’m getting truly frustrated with all of this Yoba Four.  The sensors are on Albaral.  Why can’t you understand this?  Why this blindness to what that thing is for?  Even the women slaves here know this.  What do you hold sacred about that construct that you won’t accept its evil presence as regards this world?”

“We’ve investigated it at length Antierra.  We think you have become somewhat bewitched by the local legends and are looking for something to blame, something easy to find, visible, obvious, for the troubles of this world.  We don’t believe you, or the people because there are no signals, no known kind of communication, happening between Albaral and this planet.  What sort of probe would be working there that people can sense but our own sophisticated technology remains unable to pick up?”

“Maybe I can explain that, or at least point in some possible direction.  Can your “sophisticated technology” discern between a ‘normal’ human and a Cholradil?”

“Pardon me?”  She is genuinely bemused by my question and it’s as if lights are going off in that Cydroid brain of hers.  “Are you saying the probes emanating from Albaral could be some sort of naturally empathic signals which our probes do not detect but some higher life-form long ago knew how to manipulate and some may be doing so now?” 

“My Altarian teachers say, “Believe all things, believe in nothing.”  It has served me well.  I discount no possibility simply because it seems impossible.  I just accept it’s something I as yet, cannot understand but if my mind has created the possibility in thought, that now exists in ‘real’ time for me.  Thus Albaral is our information gathering and disseminating device.  How it does it, and to what input it is responding, I cannot tell.  But here’s a scenario that might interest your Cydroid mind.

“On Túat Har circa C-20, C-21 Earth time, it was possible for certain groups to own orbiting satellites and rent space/time on them to other groups who used satellite communication but could not afford to put their own in orbit, or opted for renting instead.  Now think thus.  Albaral is “owned” by some consortium on a distant planet, say Ditani and some group on Ditani have, as you do, a “plan” for Malefactus that has to do with total control and manipulation of the population; that depends for reasons known only to them and a small secret society group here, on promoting and maintaining misogyny as a modus operandi.  The local group, and probably some locals also involved in the plan then “rent” space on Albaral, using its communication facilities to watch, record and warn of events on Malefactus.  The probes are programmed to search for certain patterns and report immediately when a pattern breaks, weakens or strengthens.  Thus they plot a course to make necessary corrections and maintain their delicate and deadly status quo.  Perhaps Yoba Four, their hold on this world is not as strong as they’d like all to believe.  Of course this is only one scenario.

“I realize there are a host of holes in my theory but it is still something to build on or work at dismantling to arrive at some truth.  Still better than blowing smoke rings in the fog.”

“???”  She has a comical quizzical look from raised eyebrows that makes me laugh.

“Just ask Cedric what that means.  He’ll be delighted to explain it to you.  It does not originate on Túat Har but from a place inhabited mostly by people we call “Dwarves” who are very fond of smoking pipe tobacco.  Their world of tall mountains, deep ravines and countless streams and rivers bordered by giant ever-yellow torias, trees that rise to as much as five hundred to one thousand meters in the air, is regularly hemmed in by thick fogs for weeks on end.  The dwarves are not affected by this as they do not guide themselves with their weak eyesight but use their feet to ‘talk’ to the ground, much as we do on Altaria.  Anyway, interesting saying, as full of legend as is the dateless gloomy Dwarf world of Takkar.  You should make a note to visit there some day.”    

She nods non-committal.  “I’m more interested in having time someday to record your tales in my mind.  I find the way you move your information around, generating new ideas from contact nodes and particularly when you switch to your alter-ego Al’Tara persona, extremely seductive.  I want to swim inside your brain and travel your neuron pathways to worlds I could never construct in mine.”

“Are you saying you believe I’m making this up as I go along just to get you to believe in my viewpoint?”
 
“I’ve reserved judgment on your stories.  For now I must decide if this view of Albaral merits cipher time and how to analyze what you’ve forced me to consider here.  The implications are somewhat frightening to us because this means our presence here, our “safe” comings and goings in the small ship we hide in the desert may already be known and our destination plotted by some group that may use us to establish a similar foothold on Koron.  Our presence here may be putting our own world at risk…  I must speak to doctor Echinoza before we do anything else.” 

“Where is doctor Echinoza if it is proper to ask?”

“In the south with my sister.  He was in a dangerous mood so she decided to go on a tryst with him.  It always brings him back to us.”

“Why does he stay here if his mind is being perverted so?”

“His choice.  He wants to conclude a plan to which he has dedicated his life.  He wants to understand this power that manipulates the minds of the people here.  He also hopes to introduce some antidote that will destroy this mind-virus.  His dream parallels yours Antierra.  That is why you fascinate him so.  I will trance-call YBA5 and they should return within 3 or 4 days, depending on his state of mind.  She won’t return with him until he’s back to his normal self. 

“And meanwhile?” I ask her.

“You choose to do what you must, what you can.  Return to the training and sleeping compound, talk to the principals and their supporting groups as much as you can or dare and get everyone prepared for the great miracle of Hyrete, our great escape.  Get them excited about it while cautioning them to remain calm.  I’m sure they’ll know already but the young ones are always dangerous in such matters.”

Our conversation is interrupted by a loud booming noise and crashing from farther battlements.  More of the keep crumbling, no doubt, but what was the boom we just heard?  We look at each other and she motions me to silence, bowing her head and ‘trancing’ to members of her family in the keep.  She is expressionless during whatever information sharing they do.  When she speaks again there is a touch of sadness in her eyes.

“A small but very well armed mobile land force has attacked Hyrete.  To what end, we do not know.  Many people were crushed under the falling stones.  I feel terribly constrained that neither you nor I can go over and help in the rescue.  Only three of ours can be involved since they are…” Another loud bombardment, the certain explosion of small concussion missiles hit the old walls and more crumbling can be heard.  We hold each other and wait it out.  I can now begin to ‘feel’ the additional pain added to this place’s burden of suffering.  It comes at first as a constricting of the heart, then a throbbing in the head.  Yoba Four cuts the stim cube she must have retrieved from Cedric and gives me a half, storing the other for some other time.  I take it without hesitation and regain some of my composure.

She continues, “Only three of us are cleared as legitimate staff in this place.  The rest, we are nine in all now, must exist in hiding.  What we could do with our medical expertise and healing powers now.” 

We hear footsteps coming towards the doctor’s office.  Yoba Four disappears instantly inside some secret passage and I stand by the door, head bowed.

A guard in a brown uniform stands in the door as it slides open to admit the human.  He looks around.  “You gora, where is doctor?”

Without lifting my head I say, “He not here.  I wait, nothing.  He gone, not tell.  Please take to compound now, I frightened here.”

I hear another guard in the yard.  “The ignorant gora won’t be any help, I told you.  Let it go back to its compound and see if we can find more defenders.  Told you last week we should have patrols at the old perimeter.  Shit.  You, gora, follow guard.” 

I meekly and quietly step behind the two men who take me to the compound.  Once there, I am handed to a trainer who happens to be Hudu.  He takes me in hand and asks if I need to eat.  I nod ‘no’ and he locks me in my cage where I’m confronted with a surprise.  Both Tieka and Zel are there.  We quickly huddle together more from joy than need for comfort.  I may certainly enjoy my moments with Cedric, Cydroids and Balomo for the challenge to my intellect but this is my family.  I belong in this cage with these women. 

Now we can talk, since by signal and touch I’m assured that all those around us listening want to be included in our plans and want to help in any way possible.  As simply and briefly as possible I relate some of what the Cydroid told me about the planned escape.  I can sense the excitement among the listeners, especially with Zel and Tieka.  A dangerous point where hope can rise too fast and blow the top off its human containers.  I strive to bring down their enthusiasm to a safer level by listing the many real dangers those who choose to escape will certainly encounter before they reach any safe zone, and even then they will not be entirely safe. 

I force them to consider this, emphasizing that only by a miracle would all of them reach their destination alive.  I speak of the carriers which, if found, may be overloaded and crash, or succumb to the action of sand and wind in the desert storms.  I speak to them of the many hundreds of kilometres to cross with no access to cover or water.  Of roaming tribes of black people who hunt down trespassers in their territories and ritually kill them to eat.  Of giant snakes in the badlands beyond the borders of the desert.  But the gravest danger remains the possibility of discovery by computer sensors and being chased by Hyrete police, Elbre military forces or worse, hunted down by bounty hunters.  A shiver passes through me as I remember, so vividly, my first encounter with these hunters of human beings.  The group gathered around me feels my pain and remains silent.

End blog post #101

“Why worry about what can kill you tomorrow when so many things can kill you tonight?” 

 

(title is a remembered quote from the movie, “Lord of War”)

[thoughts from  ~burning woman~  ]

I’m sure that title and quote is also a paraphrase of something else I’ve read somewhere in my travels.  It is a line however that I have often thought about.  What does that mean to me?  Does it mean, in the hedonistic sense, “Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die!”?  Throw caution to the wind, live for the moment, and the Devil take the hindmost?

While I completely disagree with the common politically correct phrase, “we’re all in this together” (which is obvious bullshit in spades when you think about it seriously for a second) there is definitely one thing we all have in common: death.  Whatever we do to avoid it, and believe me that the amount of money people spend to try to avoid it is beyond staggering (well, OK, I don’t know how much, I just know it’s a whole lot more than “that”) we simply can’t.  Death is our constant companion through life.  We’re born to die, with a little lunch break in-between we call life. (We don’t get paid for that either, the opposite actually.)

I’m not trying to cheer you up, but I’m not trying to depress you either as both would defeat my purpose.  I haven’t (yet) said anything you don’t already know so if this feels uncomfortable, think of it as a reality check.

Why do we worry?  Why so many stressed to the max and depressed?  What happened to the pursuit of happiness, the verve, the “joie de vivre”?  What is this terrible darkness that is descending upon the planet which seems to increase every time some major man-made event is propagandized?  Why can’t we be infected by a beneficial virus for a change? Why can’t we have at least one major truly joyful man-made event of gargantuan proportions to celebrate ourselves within?  Since we can’t outgrow the need for leaders, why can’t we have smart ones? Why must everything of major import be sad, dreadful, horrible, hopeless, destructive, death-dealing, polluting and/or costly with no end in sight when we are sick and tired of hearing about it or experiencing it? Why must what we hope for be forever out of reach, more likely to recede from our grasp than approach it?  Why does the carrot always turn into a stick?

I think it all goes back to death.  Consciously we may choose to ignore the monster and try to live relatively normal, happy lives among those we love or the society we fit in, but subconsciously “it” is always there, just like *Joe Black, not always recognized for what it is but suspected, distrusted and feared; the entity with its own agenda over which no one has any control.  Death, the great equalizer it’s been called.  Well, I don’t know: I see a lot of death, I don’t see much equality arising from its presence, quite the contrary.  Death is like that bouncing ball that after it’s set a bouncing, every time it’s touched it bounces even more wildly and unpredictably.

In a moment of wild ecstasy I suppose, John Donne wrote “death thou shalt die.”  Literally or figuratively?  It really doesn’t matter “how” it matters more “when.”  Until now man has been the slave of death and the certainty of having to face that executioner has caused man to behave in quite irrational and contradictory ways.  For the average Earthian, the way to avoid death is to be the first to deal death to some whose existence is perceived as a threat.  This knee-jerk reaction is called survival of the fittest but is better defined as war, man’s most precious invention; the one he spends the most resources upon by far; his joy, his baby, his heritage, his great love.  Makes me want to write an ode to war, or a love poem:

O dear war,
How I missed thee in the dark days of peace!
How I praise thee now that thee art returned
To fill the aching void in my human heart,
To stop the aimless wander of my soul!

O dear war
Promise me from thine bloody throne
Thou shalt abandon me never again!
I could no longer bear the emptiness
Caused by your troubling absence!”

Well it’s a start.  Dark humour, but how far from the truth of the matter?  We kill remorselessly in vain attempts to save our own life, a life that was forfeit from the moment it was conceived.

OK, so I’m not looking for rationality among the species, I know such a thing is anathema to man’s thinking.  I’m just wondering if there is a cure to worry.  Let’s spread the reasoning net.  All animal life dies, sooner than later.  Do animals worry about dying?  I don’t think they do, although many animals experience powerful emotions when one of them dies, some more than others.  They know about death; about the end of the body, but they don’t seem to be worried about their own coming death.  It’s only when the predator appears that they resort to their fight or flight mode.  If they get sick they do not linger.  Either they heal themselves or give themselves over to death with hardly a struggle.

For whatever reason, Earth people approach the matter of death much differently than animals.  Animals don’t form armies to attack and decimate their enemies.  They may be territorial for naturally mandated purposes but they don’t try to expand their “empires” outside limits set by the Alpha male of the tribe or queen of the hive.  Those outside the limits are safe from attack and free of harassment.  Animals kill to survive, not to enhance their own personal power or “wealth” as the expense of others.  {Oh please God, make me into an animal this minute!  Amen!}  Animals gracefully surrender their bodies to the earth and shortly no evidence remains of their passage.

It is foolish to worry, even more so to allow oneself to get depressed.  Depression isn’t a disease, it’s the dirty diaper of the spoiled and entitled modern bratty Earthian who wants more than it’s willing to earn for itself; who is not willing to share.  Depression comes from a “I want it, and I want it now” civilization whose technology provided a lot of stupid, unnecessary polluting toys and continues to promise more toys while the natural resources that fueled that technology are wasted by misuse and war or vanishing from the planet in waves of entropic energy like climate change.  Depression from not getting what one feels entitled to leads to worry about more serious things, like losing one’s home or having no money to buy basic necessities such as food or losing one’s children through violence… Ah yes, the list of things that cause worry grows long.

I choose to live by my first quote.  I don’t worry about what could kill me tomorrow.  I think about the things lurking in the night of my mind, the things tonight, that can kill me.  I think about the dangers of reverting back to being a common Earthian; of waking up tomorrow morning worrying about food, clothing, shelter, money, sex, what’s been stolen in the night, etc.  I think about spiritual regression and mental devaluation from nightly visitations of “demons” from the darkness of the capitalist, consumerist Matrix.  I think of the horror of discovering I’m no longer immune to the foibles of man but rather fully back in establishment clutches.  I think about what it would be like to lose my sense of self empowerment, of knowing what I am; of losing sight of my purpose… in the night.  And I shudder.  That would be worse than any conceivable depression.

Ah, but I’m a witch!  I have spells to protect myself from demons who would steal my self-made personhood:  “I think my own thoughts, therefore I am my own person.” And spells also to protect me from well-meaning people who would destroy the essential me with their verbal weapons of fear-based mass distraction.  My simple response to all of it is “I choose me.”  Then I remember that death approached at through self-determination has become my greatest gift, my doorway out of a dying place to another I know of and look forward to – no: not heaven!

When does death die?  It dies when transcended every waking and awakened moment.

PS: this isn’t in response to the current Covid 19 pandemic. I wrote these thoughts some years ago but they do fit the moment.

*Joe Black: reference is to the movie, “Meet Joe Black” with Brad Pitt as Death.

 

 

 

 

Re-blog: The Only Truly Civilized People are Anti-War

NOTE: The following is a re-blog from
https://talesfromtheloublog.wordpress.com/2019/12/05/the-only-truly-civilized-people-are-anti-war/

I chose to copy and paste the entire article rather than just leave a link because some readers do not like reading white font on a black background.  I’m still waiting for Lou to change his background… Please go to the above link page if you wish to comment on Lou’s blog, thanks.

The Only Truly Civilized People are Anti-War
Posted by Lou on December 5, 2019

Posted in: AntiwarCivilizationElitesHorrorIdeologyImperialismMoralityPolitical scienceWarLeave a comment

The Only Truly Civilized People Are Anti-War

lewrockwell.com

By Gary D. Barnett   December 5, 2019

“What is left after war is silence: The silence of the death; the silence of the debris; the silence of the birds! After war even the screams of sadness are silent because the pain is in the very depths of the soul!”  ~ Mehmet Murat ildan

“What is left after war is silence: The silence of the death; the silence of the debris; the silence of the birds! After war even the screams of sadness are silent because the pain is in the very depths of the soul!”  ~ Mehmet Murat ildan

Justification for war has taken many paths. All those paths were tainted and immoral, and all those paths led only to death and destruction. There is never a need for war; there is only a want for war. This hard fact is very disturbing to those who have been manipulated through fear to not only support and accept war, but to embrace the very concept of national pride and aggression. This I believe exposes the major failing of man, as the killing of others is also the killing of the human soul.

War knows no bounds. It is indiscriminate in its brutality, in its scope, and in its torturous methods. It matters not who are the victims, whether men, women, children, entire families, communities, or the flora and fauna of nature. It breeds massive suffering, famine, death, and homelessness, and leaves only stark landscapes filled with the lifeless bodies of rotting flesh. It is literally the curse of mankind.

If war were waged in order to solve a legitimate local threat due to an active attack on our soil, it would be self-defense, not war, and would have to end immediately once that threat was squelched. Any force evident after the immediate threat subsided, would be nothing more than pure aggression, and therefore criminal and immoral. Considering that all U.S. wars since the inception of this country have never been due to any direct attack on the mainland, and therefore not self-defense, the entirety of U.S. war history has been one of only barbarous invasion. This is a difficult truth to accept, but until accepted by the masses, war will be unending, and intensely perilous to civilization.

The idea of war is not normally one of the people at large, unless that idea is planted in their psyche due to the trickery of the controlling class. This is normally accomplished by fomenting fear among the common citizenry due to the creation of false-flag strategies of terror meant to cause alarm. Heavy mainstream media propaganda is used to spread lies about alleged monsters from afar. The state can create an enemy simply by false claims and accusations about everything from unfair trade, non-existent weapons production, charges of human rights abuses, and a myriad of other reasons that can lead to regime change operations through aggressive measures. Natural human emotions are easy to stoke, and the general populace is often fooled into a false sense of rage that turns into acceptance of heinous acts carried out by the state.

Elite controllers and the puppet political class seek war in order to gain support in times of popular dissent or disapproval. They seek war to support the banking and corporate class for monetary gain. They seek war to gain territory, whether by actual possession or in order to take geopolitical control. They seek war to steal the natural resources of other countries, and in the process exploit the people for their own gain. And in all cases, mortal invasion by these warmongers is meant to expand empire. Currently, especially considering the U.S., this seems to be a primary factor, as the future of war appears to be in large part based on a global consolidation of power by a select group of oligarchs mainly outside the political arena, but in concert with them.

Many refer to this plot as the creation of a “New World Order,” including some of those responsible for orchestrating this coup. In fact, this seems to be the desired and planned agenda of the fascist oligarchs. Of course, this is almost always attributed by the mainstream to “conspiracy theory,” but then that gives credence to my assertion, as those who scream “conspiracy theory,” a term coined purposely by the CIA, are normally trying to eliminate or marginalize the truth tellers. Actually, the globalization of the politics of control is now in the advanced stage, so a conspiracy is already evident, and is not theory.

It is crucial to understand that war is always about money, power, and control. Without ever being directly threatened or having its mainland attacked, the United States has been at war 93% of its entire existence. How could this be possible since there has never been any legitimate reason to defend this country from aggression at home? This should be a stark reminder to the bourgeoisie who in the past were fooled into supporting state murder, to rethink their undying support for the criminal and murderous policies advanced by this nation-state called America.

There have been plenty of bad people and bad regimes, and countries that have a history of committing heinous acts of war in the past. There is any number of brutal dictators, tyrants, and evil politicians in this world, all with control over military might. But none have ever reached the level of death, destruction, and military presence as the U.S. Empire. This is not pleasant to hear, but it is the truth. With that knowledge, it is time for Americans to stop the terror and murderous wars committed by their own country, because this country is the world leader in violence. It is unethical to condemn the acts of those in other lands when one’s own acts are far more savage and deadly. Common ethics require correcting self before attempting to correct others.

Civilized society requires a peace-loving, anti-war stance. With war, no true civilization exists, as war brings about barbarity, depravity, and inhumanity toward mankind. That is the essence of a cold and heartless society, not one that embraces culture, intellect, art, compassion and enlightenment. Peace and harmony amongst people is the only way to create a civilized society, and one that will sustain and prosper throughout time.

The Best of Gary D. Barnett

The Only Truly Civilized People Are Anti-War

“And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda” – Eric Bogle

Here’s my farewell to November 11 – Remembrance Day, 2019.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cnFzCmAyOp8)

Now when I was a young man, I carried me pack, and I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murray’s green basin to the dusty outback, well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said son, It’s time you stopped rambling, there’s work to be done.
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun, and they marched me away to the war.

And the band played Waltzing Matilda, as the ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears, we sailed off for Gallipoli
And how well I remember that terrible day, how our blood stained the sand and the water
And of how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay, we were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk he was waiting, he’d primed himself well. He shower’d us with bullets,
And he rained us with shell. And in five minutes flat, he’d blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played Waltzing Matilda, when we stopped to bury our slain.
We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs, then we started all over again.
And those that were left, well we tried to survive, in that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive, though around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head, and when I woke up in my hospital bed,
And saw what it had done, well I wished I was dead. Never knew there was worse things than dyin’.

For I’ll go no more waltzing Matilda, all around the green bush far and free
To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs-no more waltzing Matilda for me.
So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed, and they shipped us back home to Australia.
The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane, those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay, I looked at the place where me legs used to be.
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me, to grieve, to mourn, and to pity.

But the band played Waltzing Matilda, as they carried us down the gangway.
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared, then they turned all their faces away
And so now every April, I sit on me porch, and I watch the parades pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march, reviving old dreams of past glories
And the old men march slowly, old bones stiff and sore. They’re tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, what are they marching for? And I ask myself the same question.

But the band plays Waltzing Matilda, and the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear. Someday no one will march there at all.
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by that billabong, who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?

[What’s not so funny is, nothing, and I mean, nothing at all has been learned. We’re on the brink of war again, and on such a scale imagination fails to grasp. Those “others” are still there, and so are the guns, theirs, and ours. What’s wrong with people, huh?]

Antierra Manifesto – blog post #61

Yet despite the gargantuan problems the race created for itself, it propagated like a veritable disease all over the planet.  Yes, you can live, you can function, you can learn with incomplete data.  It gets you started.  That’s all that’s needed for life to move forward: a volitional push.  It needs to be inseminated.  Wildly.  Seeds thrown to the winds of change and chance.  Without plan or forethought?  I still don’t know how to answer that question but the two naked lovers on their sweaty bed are answer enough.

[end blog post #60]
______________________

[begin blog post #61]

I know this sounds crazy, but many lives ago I already knew that “life” was a resolvable conundrum through logic simply by removing the linearity of time from any equation.  Past and future become interchangeable, depending on your current needs.  You can “travel” across these impossible dimensions without disturbing anyone else’s current process.  Those who do so were known as the Avatari and on certain worlds they were called WindWalkers, those who walked between “heaven” and “earth” or more accurately between the worlds of spirit/mind and of physicality.

Here are some thoughts that may help clarify the conundrum for you. 

You cannot exist in two different places at the same time in the same dimension, but you can exist as identical “mind entities” in any number of the same place if in parallel dimensions.  Clarification: the same place, same time, but separated by the dimensional shift.  The greater mind of the Avatari can choose to inhabit any of the identical minds in any of those dimensions. 

Another explanation of dimensional shift: think of a dictionary as your cosmos.  You want to go from, say, the word “accrue” to the word “write” but they are separated by a thousand pages in two separate volumes.  You can do it like today’s commuter by reading through each word and flip through the thousand pages – travelling normal space/time, going from one volume to the other and continuing until you get to your destination. 

Or you can “bore” a hole through the thousand pages of the two volumes, travelling only three or four inches to go from “accrue” to “write.”  That is the Shearing drive effect.  It is violent and invasive.  You could also, if you knew exactly where to “re-enter” simply slip your finger from the word “accrue” (you dis-incarnate or ‘die’ at “accrue”) and gently let the book close, run your finger down the edges of the two volumes until you come to the page with the word “write” and enter there (re-incarnate) without changing anything within the books during your process.  This is how the Avatari do it.

So now you’ve just crossed one thousand dimensions if each is a page, or about one hundred thousand dimensions if each is a word entry through two universes if each book is a universe.  Impossible?  Nothing is impossible except what is thought to be.

Another you, or several other “you’s”  whom you may, or may not, be familiar with or be aware of, can exist in the past and the future without interfering with your present awareness.  An adept can get information from these other “selves” and use that in the current incarnation. 

Finally, it must be accepted that yes, the chicken can lay the egg from which it is hatched.  That is not a riddle.

However strange this may sound to linearly-thinking brains, this is how it is.  Life is not bound by any ISSA’s ability to understand events in the time/space continuum.  No amount of prayer, positive statements or deniability living will change an iota in the processes on the event horizon.  You have to enter in and join the dance.  Dance macabre or the Tango, that is your choice, but you must be familiar with the steps within both type of dances.  Life insists on that.

Duty calls, I must leave you with those thoughts for the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Subject: About king Jestor: an addendum

The following bit of Elbre history relating to old king Jestor Tassard, is reprinted here with permission from the titular estate managers of Michele Dellman, historian and chronicler for the Supremacy.  Dellman is currently in out-space transit to Minora de Oro to record and analyze conflicting statements issuing from the bloody aftermath of the religious rebellion put down by order of Grand Admiral Chang-X.  The Grand Admiral is facing a court-martial on Pax Nova where he must currently reside pending his hearing and the analysis of the “MD” report from Minora de Oro.  At this point, all we really know comes from the commercial news sweep Fax-Net.  Their reporters claim that millions of unarmed civilians were targeted by sub-sonic waves and killed while attending mass peaceful demonstrations against the military curtailing of their religious observances. 

 Minora de Oro is one of twelve worlds within the Supremacy granted and guaranteed by Galactic statute the charter of full religious freedom without any interference. Under the statute, Minora de Oro opted to be ruled by a theocracy. It is, however, no secret, that Chang-X who boasts an ancestry that goes back to Túat Har, specifically to the Communist regime dictator Mao Tse-tung, nation of China in C-20,  holds nothing but the deepest contempt bordering on hatred for the observance of any religious ritual.

 For more information on the early life of Chang-X, see Rise of the Supremacy – Its Military Strategy – Melkiar Invasions and Aftermath by Michele Dellman, freelance journalist and Supremacy chronicler with contributing annotations by Deles Kotmallo of Parnako. The following report is intended to help the reader understand how Elbre was ruled and what that meant for the women of that land, in case there are still doubts.

 End blog post #61

Antierra Manifesto – blog post #29

[begin blog post #29

Chapter 13 – Galactic History – The Melkiar Wars

The doctor steeples his hands with his elbows resting on the table; there is a hardness on his face warning me I’m treading on thin ice with him at the moment. 

He says, “I am not at all satisfied with your explanation, and I certainly reject your claim that you can manifest a physical body on any world you choose to “visit” or interact in.  For the purpose of this interview I will take your story at face value because I need other information from you and I certainly need to think through what you have just told me.  I know I can, and will, destroy your story and discover what you are hiding from us.  I’m not a fool, Antierra.  If what you claim were true, why would we not have encountered the likes of you before?”

“Please Doctor, please do not get angry at me because I tell you things difficult to accept.  Every event has a first in it.  My position in the Galaxy makes it inevitable that I should be a first in many people’s lives.  Although I know that once you break through the veil of programming in your own mind you will realize that you have encountered others much like myself in your past-future time.  So, speaking of time, may I suggest you give this information enough time to fit in with other events you will remember, and some you will observe here, on this world, probably soon?”

“Very well, you make a good point.  For now I’d like you to explain the ancient crafts we found free-floating in Koron’s deep space, all completely shut down with no signs of any biological life having ever touched them?”

“I am certain I can doctor, but that involves an extensive period of galactic history that is not quite over yet if one were to believe the pundits on the matter.  What I am going to reveal to you is going to stretch your belief regarding the worlds outside your known space.  I will tell this exactly as I remember it and will let you decide when you have heard enough.  Remember our motto: believe all things, believe in nothing.  

“I will use classic Earth time to describe these events as stack world years do not coincide with those of Earth and my historical chronology of events will be meaningless to you.  To satisfy my own curiosity before I go into my tale, do Malefactus years coincide with those of Koron?”

“No, they do not.  Koron has a much longer year than Malefactus as you call it.  Our days are also longer.  Nor do we use the same count in years.  On Koron, this is year 51006 since the beginning of our calendar and of our accounting in years whereas it is year 1337 here, accounted since the overthrow and break-up of the planetary oligarchy that ruled all of T’Sing Tarleyn.  The empire of Estáan is what remains of the old oligarchy.  It has been attempting to re-unite Elbre for about a hundred years now, by various methods, sometimes using trade sanctions but mostly by direct military attack upon Hyrete, the plan being to overthrow the supreme monarchy.”

I continue with my story about the ships found by the Koronese.  “Thank you doctor, I wondered much about the ruling forces on this world.  Now a bit about the events behind the lost craft in Koron space since that was our original question. 

“About a century and a half ago in our (classic) time, this sector (but in the greater galactic dimension, not interacting with this one nor directly affecting it) was invaded by a non-biological robotic life-form whose sole purpose it seemed was eradication of all biology in the galaxy.  Millions of humans were vaporized, entire worlds pulverized and all biology destroyed to the last cell.  It was a genocide beyond anything imaginable.  There was no rhyme nor reason to their depredations and they could not be approached through any communication channels or methods used by human mediators.  They made no attempts to reply to any overture and all efforts aimed at mediating a cease-fire were a complete failure.  All human ambassadors were killed in attempts to make direct contact with the invaders.

“The United Treaty Worlds (UTW) were then loose federations of human worlds in their infancy, far from the power of the current Supremacy it has declared itself to be.  Space travel was slow and cumbersome, most of it still below the speed of light.  Space was still being measured in linear distance then!

“Human defenders were no match for the invaders and kept pulling back, evacuating worlds with humans and whatever could be salvaged of indigenous biological life by whatever means.  A United Space Command (USC) was hastily cobbled together from various space police and peace-keeping units and sent against the invaders in the hope of finding a weakness in their method of attack.

“The fighting units of the USC were known as United Defence Units (UDU – now derogatorily referred to as “you do’s”) which at the beginning of the retaliations were composed of hardened space ‘troopers’ made up of private security patrols, freebooters or pardoned space pirates, planetary defence units and even revolutionary groups who had rebelled against the UTW and wished to join the battle against a common enemy it was belatedly realized was bent upon the complete extermination of humanity.  These were sent out in tens of thousands of small space crafts to engage and hopefully destroy the invaders which by then had been dubbed “Melkiars.” 

“Who were the Melkiars?  From a private collection of reports I remember studying on the blue world of Parnako, a water world where the people have adapted themselves to life almost exclusively spent in underwater communities, I will now attempt to recall the gist of what I learned with my Al’Tara memory.  I must resort to trancing again, doctor, if you don’t mind?”

His smile appears quite genuine as he encourages me to continue.  “I’m getting used to your rather esoteric ways Antierra.  Please continue, I’m quite taken by these revelations.”

As I had grown used to in my many appearances on Túat Har I did not expect him to accept I could be more than one personality with more than one name.  For him to accept me and give some credence to anything I may have to say, I have to be Antierra, the female slave fighter.  He cannot make the leap in his mind that would allow him the full freedom to interact with a full-fledged Avatari who calls herself Al’Tara.  Therefore, as is always the case, much of what I share with him will be lost to his immediate memory and of no use to him until such time as he allows himself to break out of his self-imposed limitations.  So it is!

Melkiar invasionsThe Parnako Reports

The invading robotic AI’s (Artificial Intelligence) we called Melkiars brought us the only means we know to physically cross dimensional barriers.  It is called the Shearing Drive, after engineer Paul Shearing, the man who first broke the mystery of Melkiar invasions on our worlds and perfected their device for use by the United Treaty Worlds.

Crossing dimensions, of course, is done all the time by billions of entities from all over.  But they do not use “drives” or “ships” – they cross through with their minds.  The process as we know it is, simply put, physical death.  An adept such as an Avatari can use this process to travel to any chosen location by simply leaving a body on one side of a dimension and re-manifesting a new and suitable one on the “other side” wherever that be.  This process should never be confused with another called resurrection in which a new body is given to an entity, but not through self-empowerment.  In the resurrection process as we understand it now, the resurrected entity is blocked from further mind evolution until it chooses to die, reject the offer of new life through resurrection and instead re-manifests by its own choices. 

 We now believe the Melkiars are descendants, clones, creations or inventions of an ancient and powerful group of Time Lords who once traveled freely between dimensions because they were mind, never existing as physical beings.  They “fell” from their pure mind state and incarnated to taste the pleasures of their (physical) creations.  Once in physical form they could no longer escape the pull of their created worlds.  They became the gods of time.  Aeon after aeon passed and they became ever more locked into the matter worlds.  They continued to de-evolve mentally and to rely more upon the physical and technological aspect of life for their continuity. 

 But they remembered the time before time when they had full freedom to come and go as they pleased.  These memories ate at them and they became dark lords who, though certain they could never die,  condemned their worlds to experience death – not that those who died would find their freedom thereby, but that they would lose all consciousness by being physically disconnected from one another.  Death of the gods’ devising was intended to be an end to awareness and enslavement of all developing ISSA consciousness.  What they could no longer have, the freedom to traverse cosmic infinity, they wanted to ensure their creations would never find.  They realized the possibility that in time their creations would supplant, even outlive them and this they vowed to prevent.

 Eventually these dark lords became aware of the process we so take for granted: aging.  This had been an unknown factor to them and it frightened them.  Filled with hate against the very fate they had set up, they re-worked themselves to give their physical forms immortality.  They made themselves into Cyborgs replacing their weakening biological functions to positronic and mechanical constructs.  They finally removed their biological brains to store them in a central containment field as a back-up should their next change fail.  They re-designed each other’s brains into basic silicon circuitry.  Once the switch completed and they knew it worked, they removed the containment field from their original brains and killed them.  Thus they became artificial intelligence – in essence mere computerized machines.  They did not think of themselves as artificial intelligence though, but as absolute intelligence, as gods who would rule the physical order forever.

Having broken completely from their high spirit estate, down into physical/biological life, then further down into the silicon life worlds, they proceeded to embark on a plan to destroy all biological life on their worlds and create nothing but mechanical/computer brains in robots to replace it.  They then programmed these robots to seek out and invade all biological worlds with the single directive: destroy all biological life everywhere.  To them biology had become a poisonous substance that translated as death.

 The invaders of the human worlds called “Melkiars” are their AI robotic “spawns.”  The precursor to the Shearing drive was the dark lords’ invention to cheat the dimensional blockade that forbids matter from crossing from one dimension into another. 

 [end of the Parnako report]

[end blog post #29]