Being air-dropped into some remote region in the Amazon was the worst mission ever. It was also the first. We were told to protect America from the forces of evil, and it required us to track and kill a group of terrorists who were head-hunters, cannibals and nuclear scientists. Quite a Curriculum Vita, I might add. Seemed unlikely at the time, but we had to go with the flow. Having doubts & asking questions are the worst characteristics to have when you're in the military. Work has been steady. So is recruitment.
The year is 2015 AD. America's efforts to arm every country in the world was effective - unfortunately, efficiency in this case were followed by repercussions. Every nation in the world had nuclear science, energy and weapons manufacturing plants for the last 2 years. Every country has the capability to launch nukes to any destination in the world. This is solely about government agencies. Ever since governments all over the world were armed with nukes, so were splinter groups. Thus giving the word Democracy a new, warped meaning. This meant any social strife within a nation, and disagreements among nations were answered by one simple stratagem - bomb people. It sort of goes against the idea proposed at the start of the millennium that our nation was arming people to the teeth for protecting them.
Effectively, we have changed civil liberties overnight to vigilante justice - thus enforcing our primal instinct of survival in a way more brash and brutal than any previous war in the recent past. If everyone possesses power, it means power will result in obliteration. If we continue to propel citizen ownership of WMD's, we'll die out before we start to realize what was wrong with that initiative to begin with.
We were part of a special forces group who were dropped into third world countries; two men at a time; to stop nuclear armament and attack. My first day at work, and I have to take care of a large group of terrorists, in a jungle, with a tiny survival kit, limited ammunition; and in my case; Doug.
The only thing Doug was proficient at was eating. That, and hilarious gastric emissions. Barely scraping through training, he was deemed qualified through influence. Though why he used influence to get into combat instead of escaping it, is beyond me. Doug's favorite movie was Top Gun, and I'd like to believe he fantasized about swaggering around in the middle of a jungle caught ablaze.
I couldn't escape the notion that we probably weren't going to skip death here. That would be a terrific military record. Dying in a secret mission - so they'd probably make up a cover-story stating I'd died in training. Slipped and fell; or impaled; onto one of the targets in target practice. Probably. Our government does come up with high quality bullshit.
I believe in God, but I've never been able to come to terms with the phrases God & Country and God bless America. Wait, God has favorites now? The only thing I've really been able to understand about God is that we need him in the worst of places. For safety & comfort. In jails. In a violent neighborhood. In War... There are no other alternatives in situations like these except Hope. Hope is the only salvation you have to retain a little motivation and some of your spirit, within a place of tragedy and desolation. Like a battlefield.
There was this anecdote they used to rile us up in training camp. There was a scare in the middle of American politics, that a little village in Peru was the main supplier of nuclear material for two-thirds of third world countries. Two men were dropped in the area, armed with Flame Throwers. The first guy attacked from the rear. A horde of Peruvians were chased out of the village with scorched bodies, their skins peeling off, their hair caught on fire - to meet the second guy at their village entrance to finish the job. The odd part was they never found materials for manufacturing WMD's there - and yet, the slaughter was completely justified, on the grounds of suspicion. Apparently, they did the whole burning thing while playing Black Metal on their ipods. The moral of the story - get the job done, and use any mental distractions as per your choice.
Landing in rainforests is strange. On one hand, we're looking at what looks like primeval vegetation all around. On the other hand, we're landing in some gooey matter in the middle of all this heat and foliage.
Doug: I'm hungry...
Terrific. We're supposed to trek through miles of this dense jungle and survive on whatever supplies we have until we secure the area - and this moron gets hungry the minute we're dropped in. I look around, surveying the area for any potential booby-traps, scouring the area at a radius of half a mile. When I get back to our landing site, Doug's halfway through his food supplies.
Me: What the fuck are you doing?
Doug: I'm hungry...
Me: These are... were mini-supplies. They're supposed to last us a couple of weeks, at the least...
Doug: I thought they were dropping in fresh supplies tomorrow...
Me: This isn't an all-you-can-eat Buffet at McDonalds...
Doug starts grinning and says "whoops". This is the best America could produce for combat... How we're going to win wars in all these little countries with this strategy is incomprehensible.
Doug: ... and I kid you not, I was so impressed, man. That movie was top-notch stuff. It focused on integrity, bravery and what it means to be an American. Y'know what America's about? Burgers, Freedom, Quality, Morals, Values, Football, Baseball... the list goes on man. What's not to love? I can't think of anything better to do than bomb someone who does not agree with our ideals. We stand for liberty. We liberate the World, man. What right does anyone have to hate us...
Hearing this uninformed, unenlightened degenerate jackass drone on about things he barely understood, is like a paraplegic debating sport maneuvers. This seems harder to face than the onslaught of a terrorist group now. This guy's like Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh - combined - on crack.
Doug: I don't care about you, fine sir, but I'm here to shoot as many niggers as I can...
At this point, I halt. To hear a review of an infuriating movie (Top Gun) for a three hour trek, then hear something in a screwed-up falsetto voice to reference Peruvians as niggers is too much for me to swallow...
Me: They're from Peru. We're-in-Peru. There-are-no-niggers-here. This country is essentially Nigger-less...
I talk to him like I would talk to a child, just to give make him stop.
He doesn't.
Doug: Well, all right, Peruvian niggers then...
Me: No no, no no, they aren't niggers - period. This is South America, Doug, not the Niger Valley. They're South Americans, or Peruvians...
Doug: Poogers, then...
I swear I wish I had a shotgun now. To shoot this guy in the butt with it, and look through the mess to locate his brain that was stuck in it. Oh well... back to work...
MUST-DISTRACT-BRAIN-SO-I-DON'T-KILL-THIS-MORON-AND-COMPROMISE-OUR-LOCATION-TO-THE-TERRORISTS....
Jesus, this is hard...
Doug: I see them...
I signal Doug to crouch and take cover, while I survey the area. Looks busy. A lot of workers carrying stuff from one warehouse to another - however, I see no weapons, no particular apparatus for weapons assembling. Looks can be deceiving, though. I remember buying drugs in school from the oldest and most distinguished faculty member. Instead of explaining Hawthorne to me, he explained the difference in quality and price between the different baggies.
Doug: Y'know, I was in love once...
I'm guessing my face registered both surprise and incredulity when I turn around to look the shit-machine in the eye, because he momentarily stops. Then he keeps going...
Doug: Oh yes. We were going to Sweden as soon as he got back from service...
HE?
Me: Uh... He?
Doug: Terry. We loved each other dearly. Every night through our childhood, we would meet at our tree house and cuddle our way to sleep.
This isn't happening. This shouldn't be happening. I'm in the middle of nowhere, a few blocks away from a terrorist group; and this guy's divulging intimate details of his sexual preferences from.... age 8, presumably. In a special forces task force team of 2, you're not always lucky to get the company you like, or compatible with. Some get the racists. Some get bible-thumpers. Some get the clumsy. Some get the attractive - not really helpful on a battlefield. Some get poor strategists. All these examples jeopardize missions. I'm stuck with gluttonous, talkative, chauvinist nancy-boy here. Great.
And then, I noticed something in Doug change. His expression changed to that of malice, and began to speak with a grimness that momentarily startled me.
Doug: They killed him. The bastards did. Terry didn't come back home in a body bag. They brought back pieces of him, along with his dog-tag, tied in a cloth... I'm not gonna rest until I kill each and everyone of them...
Me: Fine. But this is war, Doug...
Doug: I don't give a damn...
Me: And since it's war, both sides have casualties. And Terry was one of them... So I take it this is why you used influence to get into combat... to avenge his death?
Doug: Yes.
It's bewildering to notice how shockingly people behave when they're dealing with personal loss. Apart from fear, this is one of those emotions that gives us a sense of justification to do anything.
Me: Weren't you studying to be a doctor, Doug?
Doug: I was... Until Terry.... What's that got to do with anything?
Me: Oh... the fact that you could devote your life to save people's lives with your knowledge and expertise - instead of wasting extra years to learn to mercilessly kill... Is this too abstract an idea for you?
Doug: I need their families to suffer, as I have suffered. I want to feel the satisfaction of avenging Terry, by feeling my shirt soaked with the blood of the ones I kill - the same ones who killed him. This is what I call Premeditated Slaughter. And once I'm done here, I'm going to volunteer in all the missions I can take, until I've killed them all. Then I need to collect individual body-parts and send it to their government, exactly like he was sent to me... I need to do this...
Me: You self-absorbed fuck-up. What you need to do is move on and take steps to make your own life better with what you have left. Create new sources of happiness. Instead the only way you claim to derive happiness is by seeing other people suffer - to aid what you call Revenge. I call it Idiotic Cruelty - because if these people thought like you, they would chase after you, to avenge their loved ones - going on and on. It's not true happiness, it's momentary relief, just like masturbation. It's a sort of sadistic pleasure you attain by inflicting pain on others, because you think your suffering is reason enough for others to suffer... What a load of crap... The only way you'll find true inner peace is by doing the stuff that makes you genuinely happy, not indulging in some sadomasochistic macho fantasy where you emerge victorious and the ones who've wronged you, intentionally or otherwise, get completely screwed over by your fucked-up planned destructive actions. Congratulations, you've won, and proved to yourself to have the bigger dick in this race. Terrific. Why don't you kill every person who stares you down or questions you on anything, you stupid, shallow cunt???!?!?!?!??!!?!!!?!!!
Doug's skull explodes onto my face, and I'm left with the insides of his head as make-up. Fuck I can't hear. Except this weird ringing beep in my ear. I'm pretty sure there's gunfire, the leaves and trees riddled with holes and smoke showcases this fact well. Not to mention Doug's splintered head. I scamper in the opposite direction, dropping my ammo, my weapons, my survival kit, anything to get me the fuck outta here... Fast...
How hard can it be to hurt the ones you used to love? It's the simplest thing - you are privy to information not many people are privileged to posses; you're aware of their short-comings. Achieving that isn't going to change the situation - all it succeeds in doing, is to wreck more lives than your own. I guess losing the ones you love is harder still.
I wish people would let go of this sick, twisted retribution-mentality, and I sincerely wished Doug did too. He was meant to be providing medical help to whomever he could - to care for the wounded. He did the exact opposite.
It's interesting to note how we ignore the importance of our five senses when they're intact. It's also interesting to note how the five combine & help to form a wide-set of emotions too. When we see a cake, for instance, we see, smell, touch, hear and taste it to feel temporary sugary happiness. Everything in the universe looks, smells, feels, is heard and tastes a certain way. A thunderstorm affects us the way it does because rain makes a specific sound; the grass, the houses and everything else smells different when the rain falls on it; there's some difference in taste between normal water and rain; our vision becomes slightly different; and our skin reacts differently to rain and a shower.
It is also true that senses induce the criteria connected with emotions. Like Fear. Like now, I fear nothing. Sprinting through a hail of foliage and gunfire in the midst of this sticky, uneven jungle - I cannot feel fear. Because all I hear is this screechy beep in my head. Like a Wah-Wah pedal that's stuck. And I keep running. I run & run & run & finally see the river Doug and I crossed on the way to the terrorist camp to; as Doug put it; "moisten myself"... I jump into it - the sound in my ears, numbs down considerably when I'm underwater - and I hold my breath till the sound gradually dissipates. When I'm almost out of air, I resurface to find an array of sound-effects on one side of the river. If I'd heard the same noise while I was trying to escape, I would've been glued to the spot or sporting a slightly erratic style of running. That way, I probably wouldn't have made it.
I swim across and clamber onto the bank. After a few deep breaths, I start to run again. After who-knows-how-long, I reach the clearing (our landing site) and radio my base for an airlift. Surprisingly, I'm not being followed. Soon enough, I'm back at the base.
As I arrive, the looks of disdain and disgust and smugness I get for deserting the mission, does not affect me.
Glory and National Pride and Narcissism and Power are narcotics in their own respective rights; perhaps more harmful than most of the stuff we've waged wars against for a little over a century. Twisted Ideologies leave you with Biased, Twisted Thinking. In a purely logical sense this process could be explained with this equation -
Thinking does not serve a purpose if you differentiate everything into two narrow camps - Good & Bad. It's an insult to the collective Learning, Wisdom and Rationality we've accumulated and achieved over the ages. If we're rigidly stuck to fixed thinking in a closed shell, we may never observe and comment on reality using logic. The Pursuit of Power and Morals aren't the most important things in the world. Knowledge & Rationality, perhaps... Unbiased Honesty and Fairness, perhaps... Empires and the systems they create, benefit the few and oppress the rest.
Maybe, just maybe, the human race would destroy itself before realizing these simple, rational ideas. Sentient beings may be able to survive self-destruction, not semi-civilized animals.
END
The year is 2015 AD. America's efforts to arm every country in the world was effective - unfortunately, efficiency in this case were followed by repercussions. Every nation in the world had nuclear science, energy and weapons manufacturing plants for the last 2 years. Every country has the capability to launch nukes to any destination in the world. This is solely about government agencies. Ever since governments all over the world were armed with nukes, so were splinter groups. Thus giving the word Democracy a new, warped meaning. This meant any social strife within a nation, and disagreements among nations were answered by one simple stratagem - bomb people. It sort of goes against the idea proposed at the start of the millennium that our nation was arming people to the teeth for protecting them.
Effectively, we have changed civil liberties overnight to vigilante justice - thus enforcing our primal instinct of survival in a way more brash and brutal than any previous war in the recent past. If everyone possesses power, it means power will result in obliteration. If we continue to propel citizen ownership of WMD's, we'll die out before we start to realize what was wrong with that initiative to begin with.
We were part of a special forces group who were dropped into third world countries; two men at a time; to stop nuclear armament and attack. My first day at work, and I have to take care of a large group of terrorists, in a jungle, with a tiny survival kit, limited ammunition; and in my case; Doug.
The only thing Doug was proficient at was eating. That, and hilarious gastric emissions. Barely scraping through training, he was deemed qualified through influence. Though why he used influence to get into combat instead of escaping it, is beyond me. Doug's favorite movie was Top Gun, and I'd like to believe he fantasized about swaggering around in the middle of a jungle caught ablaze.
I couldn't escape the notion that we probably weren't going to skip death here. That would be a terrific military record. Dying in a secret mission - so they'd probably make up a cover-story stating I'd died in training. Slipped and fell; or impaled; onto one of the targets in target practice. Probably. Our government does come up with high quality bullshit.
I believe in God, but I've never been able to come to terms with the phrases God & Country and God bless America. Wait, God has favorites now? The only thing I've really been able to understand about God is that we need him in the worst of places. For safety & comfort. In jails. In a violent neighborhood. In War... There are no other alternatives in situations like these except Hope. Hope is the only salvation you have to retain a little motivation and some of your spirit, within a place of tragedy and desolation. Like a battlefield.
There was this anecdote they used to rile us up in training camp. There was a scare in the middle of American politics, that a little village in Peru was the main supplier of nuclear material for two-thirds of third world countries. Two men were dropped in the area, armed with Flame Throwers. The first guy attacked from the rear. A horde of Peruvians were chased out of the village with scorched bodies, their skins peeling off, their hair caught on fire - to meet the second guy at their village entrance to finish the job. The odd part was they never found materials for manufacturing WMD's there - and yet, the slaughter was completely justified, on the grounds of suspicion. Apparently, they did the whole burning thing while playing Black Metal on their ipods. The moral of the story - get the job done, and use any mental distractions as per your choice.
Landing in rainforests is strange. On one hand, we're looking at what looks like primeval vegetation all around. On the other hand, we're landing in some gooey matter in the middle of all this heat and foliage.
Doug: I'm hungry...
Terrific. We're supposed to trek through miles of this dense jungle and survive on whatever supplies we have until we secure the area - and this moron gets hungry the minute we're dropped in. I look around, surveying the area for any potential booby-traps, scouring the area at a radius of half a mile. When I get back to our landing site, Doug's halfway through his food supplies.
Me: What the fuck are you doing?
Doug: I'm hungry...
Me: These are... were mini-supplies. They're supposed to last us a couple of weeks, at the least...
Doug: I thought they were dropping in fresh supplies tomorrow...
Me: This isn't an all-you-can-eat Buffet at McDonalds...
Doug starts grinning and says "whoops". This is the best America could produce for combat... How we're going to win wars in all these little countries with this strategy is incomprehensible.
********************************************
Doug: ... and I kid you not, I was so impressed, man. That movie was top-notch stuff. It focused on integrity, bravery and what it means to be an American. Y'know what America's about? Burgers, Freedom, Quality, Morals, Values, Football, Baseball... the list goes on man. What's not to love? I can't think of anything better to do than bomb someone who does not agree with our ideals. We stand for liberty. We liberate the World, man. What right does anyone have to hate us...
Hearing this uninformed, unenlightened degenerate jackass drone on about things he barely understood, is like a paraplegic debating sport maneuvers. This seems harder to face than the onslaught of a terrorist group now. This guy's like Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh - combined - on crack.
Doug: I don't care about you, fine sir, but I'm here to shoot as many niggers as I can...
At this point, I halt. To hear a review of an infuriating movie (Top Gun) for a three hour trek, then hear something in a screwed-up falsetto voice to reference Peruvians as niggers is too much for me to swallow...
Me: They're from Peru. We're-in-Peru. There-are-no-niggers-here. This country is essentially Nigger-less...
I talk to him like I would talk to a child, just to give make him stop.
He doesn't.
Doug: Well, all right, Peruvian niggers then...
Me: No no, no no, they aren't niggers - period. This is South America, Doug, not the Niger Valley. They're South Americans, or Peruvians...
Doug: Poogers, then...
I swear I wish I had a shotgun now. To shoot this guy in the butt with it, and look through the mess to locate his brain that was stuck in it. Oh well... back to work...
MUST-DISTRACT-BRAIN-SO-I-DON'T-KILL-THIS-MORON-AND-COMPROMISE-OUR-LOCATION-TO-THE-TERRORISTS....
Jesus, this is hard...
Doug: I see them...
I signal Doug to crouch and take cover, while I survey the area. Looks busy. A lot of workers carrying stuff from one warehouse to another - however, I see no weapons, no particular apparatus for weapons assembling. Looks can be deceiving, though. I remember buying drugs in school from the oldest and most distinguished faculty member. Instead of explaining Hawthorne to me, he explained the difference in quality and price between the different baggies.
Doug: Y'know, I was in love once...
I'm guessing my face registered both surprise and incredulity when I turn around to look the shit-machine in the eye, because he momentarily stops. Then he keeps going...
Doug: Oh yes. We were going to Sweden as soon as he got back from service...
HE?
Me: Uh... He?
Doug: Terry. We loved each other dearly. Every night through our childhood, we would meet at our tree house and cuddle our way to sleep.
This isn't happening. This shouldn't be happening. I'm in the middle of nowhere, a few blocks away from a terrorist group; and this guy's divulging intimate details of his sexual preferences from.... age 8, presumably. In a special forces task force team of 2, you're not always lucky to get the company you like, or compatible with. Some get the racists. Some get bible-thumpers. Some get the clumsy. Some get the attractive - not really helpful on a battlefield. Some get poor strategists. All these examples jeopardize missions. I'm stuck with gluttonous, talkative, chauvinist nancy-boy here. Great.
And then, I noticed something in Doug change. His expression changed to that of malice, and began to speak with a grimness that momentarily startled me.
Doug: They killed him. The bastards did. Terry didn't come back home in a body bag. They brought back pieces of him, along with his dog-tag, tied in a cloth... I'm not gonna rest until I kill each and everyone of them...
Me: Fine. But this is war, Doug...
Doug: I don't give a damn...
Me: And since it's war, both sides have casualties. And Terry was one of them... So I take it this is why you used influence to get into combat... to avenge his death?
Doug: Yes.
It's bewildering to notice how shockingly people behave when they're dealing with personal loss. Apart from fear, this is one of those emotions that gives us a sense of justification to do anything.
Me: Weren't you studying to be a doctor, Doug?
Doug: I was... Until Terry.... What's that got to do with anything?
Me: Oh... the fact that you could devote your life to save people's lives with your knowledge and expertise - instead of wasting extra years to learn to mercilessly kill... Is this too abstract an idea for you?
Doug: I need their families to suffer, as I have suffered. I want to feel the satisfaction of avenging Terry, by feeling my shirt soaked with the blood of the ones I kill - the same ones who killed him. This is what I call Premeditated Slaughter. And once I'm done here, I'm going to volunteer in all the missions I can take, until I've killed them all. Then I need to collect individual body-parts and send it to their government, exactly like he was sent to me... I need to do this...
Me: You self-absorbed fuck-up. What you need to do is move on and take steps to make your own life better with what you have left. Create new sources of happiness. Instead the only way you claim to derive happiness is by seeing other people suffer - to aid what you call Revenge. I call it Idiotic Cruelty - because if these people thought like you, they would chase after you, to avenge their loved ones - going on and on. It's not true happiness, it's momentary relief, just like masturbation. It's a sort of sadistic pleasure you attain by inflicting pain on others, because you think your suffering is reason enough for others to suffer... What a load of crap... The only way you'll find true inner peace is by doing the stuff that makes you genuinely happy, not indulging in some sadomasochistic macho fantasy where you emerge victorious and the ones who've wronged you, intentionally or otherwise, get completely screwed over by your fucked-up planned destructive actions. Congratulations, you've won, and proved to yourself to have the bigger dick in this race. Terrific. Why don't you kill every person who stares you down or questions you on anything, you stupid, shallow cunt???!?!?!?!??!!?!!!?!!!
**********************************SHOOP********************* BLAM*****************************
Doug's skull explodes onto my face, and I'm left with the insides of his head as make-up. Fuck I can't hear. Except this weird ringing beep in my ear. I'm pretty sure there's gunfire, the leaves and trees riddled with holes and smoke showcases this fact well. Not to mention Doug's splintered head. I scamper in the opposite direction, dropping my ammo, my weapons, my survival kit, anything to get me the fuck outta here... Fast...
****************************************
How hard can it be to hurt the ones you used to love? It's the simplest thing - you are privy to information not many people are privileged to posses; you're aware of their short-comings. Achieving that isn't going to change the situation - all it succeeds in doing, is to wreck more lives than your own. I guess losing the ones you love is harder still.
I wish people would let go of this sick, twisted retribution-mentality, and I sincerely wished Doug did too. He was meant to be providing medical help to whomever he could - to care for the wounded. He did the exact opposite.
************************************************
It's interesting to note how we ignore the importance of our five senses when they're intact. It's also interesting to note how the five combine & help to form a wide-set of emotions too. When we see a cake, for instance, we see, smell, touch, hear and taste it to feel temporary sugary happiness. Everything in the universe looks, smells, feels, is heard and tastes a certain way. A thunderstorm affects us the way it does because rain makes a specific sound; the grass, the houses and everything else smells different when the rain falls on it; there's some difference in taste between normal water and rain; our vision becomes slightly different; and our skin reacts differently to rain and a shower.
It is also true that senses induce the criteria connected with emotions. Like Fear. Like now, I fear nothing. Sprinting through a hail of foliage and gunfire in the midst of this sticky, uneven jungle - I cannot feel fear. Because all I hear is this screechy beep in my head. Like a Wah-Wah pedal that's stuck. And I keep running. I run & run & run & finally see the river Doug and I crossed on the way to the terrorist camp to; as Doug put it; "moisten myself"... I jump into it - the sound in my ears, numbs down considerably when I'm underwater - and I hold my breath till the sound gradually dissipates. When I'm almost out of air, I resurface to find an array of sound-effects on one side of the river. If I'd heard the same noise while I was trying to escape, I would've been glued to the spot or sporting a slightly erratic style of running. That way, I probably wouldn't have made it.
I swim across and clamber onto the bank. After a few deep breaths, I start to run again. After who-knows-how-long, I reach the clearing (our landing site) and radio my base for an airlift. Surprisingly, I'm not being followed. Soon enough, I'm back at the base.
As I arrive, the looks of disdain and disgust and smugness I get for deserting the mission, does not affect me.
Glory and National Pride and Narcissism and Power are narcotics in their own respective rights; perhaps more harmful than most of the stuff we've waged wars against for a little over a century. Twisted Ideologies leave you with Biased, Twisted Thinking. In a purely logical sense this process could be explained with this equation -
Garbage In = Garbage Out
Thinking does not serve a purpose if you differentiate everything into two narrow camps - Good & Bad. It's an insult to the collective Learning, Wisdom and Rationality we've accumulated and achieved over the ages. If we're rigidly stuck to fixed thinking in a closed shell, we may never observe and comment on reality using logic. The Pursuit of Power and Morals aren't the most important things in the world. Knowledge & Rationality, perhaps... Unbiased Honesty and Fairness, perhaps... Empires and the systems they create, benefit the few and oppress the rest.
Maybe, just maybe, the human race would destroy itself before realizing these simple, rational ideas. Sentient beings may be able to survive self-destruction, not semi-civilized animals.
END
Another compelling vehicle to communicate a philosophical perspective of humanity and what translates as misguided values of morality, ethics that demand ill-conceived methodologies to achieve their selfishly driven, calamitous manifestations premised on perverse altruistic ideals. Your ability to blend these thought provoking concepts into an entertaining, spellbinding storyline that does not fail to demand one read on. Very well done.
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