Tag - war

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A Silent War
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The New Normal
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Second-hand Dreams

A Silent War

It seems that after a bout of good weather, the nights are filled with secret military operations. At least they are down here on the South Coast. I’ve talked about the strange occurrences to neighbours on occasion, and they too have noticed the sonic booms, the low flying helicopters. Yet, through some bizarre reasoning, a dysfunctional subconscious logical compensation, despite the fact that a vast majority of the choppers and jets are black and unmarked, most people on my street are convinced it’s simply the coastguard.

Perhaps I’m just unfortunate enough to live directly under a flight path for military exercises. Nevertheless, the incidents are increasing week by week. What might have been a one-off event, has developed into hours and hours of covert airborne activity most nights of the week. Nowadays, I’ve almost become accustomed to the noise, and it rarely wakes me, unless a chopper decides to hover above my particular roof, which has happened in the past. I’ve even managed to catch a few at the brink of dawn, they’re smothered with all sorts of transmitters and dishes. I’m guessing they have heat sensors and the like, and have infrared records of a highly paranoid fiction writer, typing in his spare box room.

The jets, on the other hand, fall into two camps. There’s the familiar slow crawl of the jumbos, flying off to Europe, and then there are the military planes. These too can be subcategorised, and simply by the sound they make. The most common roar across the skies, but you can hear them from miles off. Then there is the other kind, a strange whining coming from nowhere, it just arrives all of a sudden, rattling windows and roof tiles, and then it’s gone in seconds flat, just as fast as it arrived.

On bright clear days I’ll often make a point of looking up at anything flying by, just to familiarise myself with different craft, comparing their appearance to their sound. None of which generate anything like the nightly ear piercing screams, buffered by the deathly silence, that always marks their mysterious arrivals and departures. For a while I began to wonder what was so important about this little town I live in, and which residents could accrue such interest or even suspicion, and why. And then I realised the truth, that this is happening everywhere, in every town, in every country of the world.

We are already under martial law, we just haven’t noticed yet, a global military coup conducted under the cover of the night, every night. I suspect that more people have noticed than let on. I guess, much like myself, they’d rather sleep and dream of freedom, than accept that what has been hard fought won, can as easily be lost.

The New Normal

As I sweltered on the beach, (yes, I finally decided to venture out in the sun for a change), I couldn’t help but help but notice how carefree everyone seemed. The media hype, the chaos and confusion caused by a litany of deaths, through infrastructural neglect and terrorism, had done little to spoil their fun.

You could see it as British stoicism, I suppose, much like that awful relic of state propaganda so many have mistaken for nostalgia, keep calm and carry on. But I believe it’s more than that, it’s a fundamental shift in perception, a mass behavioural adjustment, a change in attitude that cannot be undone. The value of life in the human market has just taken another tumble, and there are grave doubts it will ever recover.

Under the law, the British have little choice in how they protect themselves. Several citizens have even been jailed for defending their homes during an armed robbery. The UK government hates have-a-go heroes, they’ll tell you to stay where you are in the midst of an inferno, to run and hide from one’s assailants, to tittle-tattle to the state rather than exercise one’s own right to freedom of speech.

So we sit in the sun and burn, and if anybody puts the radio on, they’ll skip the news and put on some tunes to keep the atmosphere light and bubbly. People will criticise, or even apologise for the way we live, of what we think and do, how greedy the rich, and lazy the poor. Never once suspecting that the little we have left at stake, our crumbling institutions and the jaded hearts of the tired and dispossessed will soon be the stuff of dreams. Our lives are under evaluation, mobilising strategies for broader rationalisation and ongoing recriminations. A whole new political agenda is on the cards and the odds are stacked way against us.

We’ve been offered the choice of a comfortable slavery, in return for the notion of freedom, censorship to protect free speech, the weaponization of the state for our safety, and the death of individuality in trade for a veneer of civil society. It’s all for show you know, no matter how the media spin the story, the human race has been reduced to fighting over territory in a global prison yard.

I don’t envy the young. If the world fell apart tomorrow, at least I’d had some fun, and had my say when people still bothered to listen to opinion. Over the years I’ve managed to gather together a few home comforts, a roof over my head, a nominal opportunity to express my thoughts and feelings without the fear of recrimination. But for those who’ve not been here long you have a choice to make, to carve out a world you can tolerate, before someone else does it for you.

My grandfather served in WW2, but as far as my later father and I are concerned, we were able to discover our own unique ideologies, unhindered by state propaganda and forced military conscription. Few of my generation have had to take up arms, and I doubt any of us ever will. The vast majority of people in this country drive cars and vans to get from A to B, we don’t see the world as conflict, and every tool at hand as a weapon. But the time is coming, following the precedence of suffering and terror, when a whole swathe of the young will find themselves signed up to a war they never believed in.

Suicide is the biggest killer, not terrorism. Depression isn’t just an economic term, it means that things aren’t as good as they used to be, and that we must all make do with less, and share more, or leave. Modern life isn’t about charity, or caring for one another, it’s fear and cowardice, waiting for others to fight the fight, whilst the majority sit it out and wait to make compromises. Billions, hoping against all hope that very soon everything will return to normality. When it doesn’t, we’ll waste our time in endless well-meaning discussions, until eventually we’ll make a compromise too far, and simply decide to accept our fate, and learn to embrace this hellish modernity of ours, the new normal.

Second-hand Dreams

If you pin all your hopes on somebody else, it won’t be long before you come a cropper. We’re not born with a belief system, we’re taught what to think, and in turn what to feel. There’s little wiggle room for self-expression, when all those around you are convinced they know the truth. In fact, the more devout the ideology or political persuasion, the more likely you’ll die trying to prove them wrong.

The difference is that in recent history, the idea of democracy has taken the lead, and those who’ve embraced it are under the misconception that they’re free to think what they like. However, as time moved on, those offended by differing opinions have steered the masses towards a homogeneous middle-ground. A tempering of individualism for the good of all, with a media bias slanted towards those who will not compromise, and carry out atrocious acts of violence for the sake of their beliefs.

There will come a time when the people will need to choose between cultural sensitivity and death. The world is full of cowards who would rather let their loved ones die than risk offending others. A democracy of lies teetering on the precipice of chaos, precariously balanced upon the crumbling foundations of a broken civilisation.

To believe in oneself, despite the objections of all others, is the key to true freedom, although the price is high. We cannot all come together as one, we have never done it in the past, and the future will be no different. This is a time like many others, when one empire falls and another rises. Only history will provide the answers, and prove yet again, that the state, in whatever form it currently takes, has always been the enemy.

I am not part of the establishment, and neither are you. We can either assist those who wish to see our downfall, or their enemies, who will in turn do much the same thing. It’s all just a matter of presentation, politics is a religion, and vice-versa. Science is a belief system, and belief is a liar. Whilst society is simply an idea someone desperate for power cooked up, so the rest of us can feel we’re part of something special. But we’re not, we’re just numbers, statistics, the living and the dead. Now and again we’re voters and we’re told our opinions matter, as long as we agree.

It doesn’t matter what you think or do, or how much money you have in the bank, or which religion, if any, has got it right. All of that is bullshit in the face of death. It is often predicted that polite society, without food, water, or power, takes about a week to descend into cannibalistic anarchy. Our paymasters greatest power is our lack of self-belief, our innate distrust for each other, which is exactly why society was built this way. The only true enemy you have is officialdom, the designated powers of a hierarchy beyond your control. They tell you what’s happened and why, and how you should react. They make and break the promises of changes for the better, and blame you when they fail. It’s only when the shit hits the fan, that any of us will truly realise how much we treasure life.

Here’s the easy way out, a soft option for a compromised existence, a recipe for survival in modern life. Take all your hopes and dreams and bury them in a lead-lined box, and erect a stone marker to remind you where you left them. Now spend the rest of your days pretending it’s not your future’s grave.

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