Post by wrath on Jun 28, 2015 17:06:03 GMT
(OOC Notes: Yeah, lots of fun writing this one today... I'm just happy to be alive. And at least the bitch that hit me head on was really attractive...)
Diary of a Deadman 10: Dumbed Down
When I look around at the people of my country, sometimes it’s hard to not see what the rest of the world sees.
There are reporters running around trying to be facetious assholes; attempting to get people to sign petitions for things that should mortify a normal, sane, intelligent person. I sat awestruck at the sheer stupidity, and willingness to comply with a few command words. Say I just need you to sign here a few times and you can get someone to agree that someone murdering a two year old should be perfectly legal. If you use a few command words and a nice official tone; you could get someone to agree to throwing jews in ovens again.
And I had to start analyzing why that was the case. Why could you get people to agree to such insane things? Is it just to please an authority figure? I doubt it, because most people don’t give two shits about a badge or a position of power. Is it because they truly believe these crazy things like repealing the right to free speech or promote things like “post birth aborition”? I kinda doubt it on that one. So I started to research what was being taught to our young people.
I can’t lie, I didn’t get the typical American experience for a kid fresh out of high school. I started jumping out of planes and killing shit; the Army was my college, and I took it very seriously. But most kids, go off to their four year university, party it up, waste mommy and daddy’s money and move on to some kind of job. But education is a rather important tenet of the society. We’re only as good as our best and brightest, right?
So why is it, that there are six courses on gender for liberal arts majors at Temple University? Why? Why are our children being taught, for six fucking classes, that gender is a fluid concept and as interchangeable as a god damn pair of socks? Why aren’t they being taught more about political science, actual science, or something that has some kind of culture to it? Why isn’t there one less class on what someone’s gender identity is and one more class on civil ethics?
I suspect the answer is a lot more nefarious than people would like to admit to themselves. Society doesn’t dictate the curriculum of our higher learning establishments. That comes from the academics themselves. And not just the academics, the people that rudder the ships of these entire organizations have but one thing on their minds. This has always been about a take over. It’s always been about making the masses incrementally less intelligent so that the truly intelligent elite could strip away from the unwashed masses without the blithering idiots noticing or caring.
And boy howdy has it been fucking working. People are getting stupider and stupider by the god damn minute. You can tell someone what’s in McDonald’s food, and they’ll respond with “I don’t care” and chomp down another handful of French fries that have silly putty dye and yoga mat foam in them. That was what they fomented, that was what they had strived so diligently for. They wanted the people just smart enough to push their buttons, mow their lawns, and be obedient little worker ants…
Just so long as they’re too stupid to see what’s being done to them.
Just so long as they’re sleepwalking to their graves
Just so long as the people at the top of the chain keep bleeding the cattle dry…
Have Your Whole Fam Wondering Where Their Loved One At
The camera comes on in a parking lot, getting a good shot of a big Dodge Ram pulling to a halt in a parking space. As the truck comes to a stop and shut off, Alex Atwater hops out of the truck with a carry on bag in his hands. He reaches over the walls of the truck bed, his large arm bulging as he picks up the suit case. Setting down the suitcase, his fingers dig into the retractable handle; extending it up and giving it the ability to wheel around easily. Alex pulls the dark sunglasses off his eyes as he looks at the cameras.
Alex grins slightly as he tucks the sunglasses down the front of his US Army t-shirt. “Where do I begin? Andrew Jacobsen? That’s three times now son… give up. Guernica… same thing… that’s three now. Really… who’s leg do you gotta hump to get a dry martini around here?”
Alex starts to snicker a bit and shake his head a bit. “Boys, if you didn’t get the fucking message the first three fucking times… Alex Atwater isn’t fucking playing around with any of you fuckers anymore. It doesn’t matter who you are. I don’t give a fuck if you’re the top of the god damn mountain or the bottom rung of the fucking ladder…. If you get in the fucking ring with me, I’m going to kick the god damn teeth out of your mouth.”
Alex’s rage starts to show in his eyes and his fists start to ball up. “There’s this thing called the Heir to the Throne tournament going on, and it seems that I’ve been knocking around the competition like there’s no tomorrow, so I was given my chance to pick my path after last week. And I picked a path that, for the life of me, seemed to fit my mood and the point I need to prove. There was one man last week that was actually a new face to me in the ring; and that was you Jack.”
Alex cocky smirk spreads across his face as he continues. “So what was that about me underestimating you? What was that shit about you looking ten times better and smarter than me when you walked away from that match with the win? Right, that shit didn’t happen. So what’s the call this week Jack? You’re going to prove the world wrong? You’re going to prove me wrong? I didn’t underestimate shit. Maybe, just maybe, I called a fucking spade a spade. Jack, when I look at you and me, there is no doubt in my mind who the better man in the ring is.”
Alex snarls as he continues, showing his disdain. “I don’t care where you’ve been, or how much of a veteran you think you are. When it comes to raw talent, brute power, and a simple desire to make sure that someone walks away with the win… you just don’t fucking stack up to me. That attitude that I’ve been there and done that so I know better than you just sounds like the ramblings of a tired old never was that is delusional and buying his own bullshit more than he should.”
Alex reaches a hand up and runs it through his short hair, looking at the camera for just a second before he continues. “So when the brass asked me what kind of match I wanted, I figured maybe… ya know… it was time to make Andrew Jacobsen not a liar. Because unlike him, and a lot of people, I know there’s a time and place for things to get bloody and wild. There’s a time to test your meddle and prove that you’ll go to any lengths and do anything to get the god damn job done. And believe me when I say it Jack… I have no problem scraping you off the bottom of my boot like the goose shit of a wrestler you really are.”
Alex smirks and continues. “I need to prove who the real Heir to the Throne is. I need to prove that I belong in the upper echelon of this company, and this right here is my chance to do it. All of the greats that walked through this company spilled their blood and went through war after war to get where they were. Angel and Spike almost murdered each other, Alex Jones has made it a career of wrecking people and leaving them in buckets of blood… and there’s no doubt the road to the top of this mountain is still paved with the twisted and mangled carcasses that you leave behind you.”
Alex takes a step closer to the camera, his muscles getting tense; causing the Army t-shirt to bulge and threaten to rip. “Jack, to be quite honest, while you were being a big shot in piss ant companies and calling it huge shit… I was serving my country and learning I had more in me than I ever thought was there. While you were dropping the ball everywhere you went, I was doing something that mattered. And while you’re still sitting there wondering how in the hell you lost last week, I’m getting ready to beat that ass again.”
Alex smirks and nods as he approaches the camera. “The best fans in the world are going to get one hell of a show when I whoop your ass all over London. From the ring, to the railings, to the crowd, to getting down in the streets of London and leaving it looking like a bunch of the firms came through and had themselves a big brawl. There’s only going to be one god damn difference this fucking time for London. There won’t be a need for a big crowd to create that kind of carnage.”
Alex smirks “It’s only going to take me feeding Jack Gaither a Texas sized good old fashioned American ass whooping to leave London looking like a riot went off.”
Atwater reaches forward and shuts the camera off, causing the screen to go snowy and then dead.
Preventing Winter: Chapter 05
“The fuck he’s going to JSOC! They farmed this out to us thinking it was low level, it’s our shit. We should get the fucking reward. They weren’t the one’s out here getting shot at!” Friedman responded harshly.
“He’s going to fucking JSOC! He’s too important to the country for us to take him for our own gain.” Alex responded with just as much hostility.
“JSOC is going to pay us peanuts. We can strip him of everything and come out of this with enough money to buy our own fucking countries!” Ron screamed back.
“This isn’t about money!” Alex growled.
“Everything is about money! That’s why your fucking ass is out here. Just like me!” Ron snapped.
“Horse shit, you don’t know why I’m out here!” Alex replied in kind. “Don’t question my motives when you’re the one that’s only thinking about the paper god you worship.”
“Fuck you!” Ron screamed. “I’m thinking about what we all fucking deserve. I don’t know about you, but all I ever did was give the Navy everything I had; and they mothballed me like a submarine full of holes when I got hurt on the job.”
“So you turn your back on what’s right?” Alex asked angrily.
“What’s right, is that we get what’s coming too us after years of loyal service.” Ron responded.
“And we will…” Alex said, adding with more emphasis. “When we turn him over to fucking JSOC.”
Alex was certainly hung up on this point. Brian knew why. Hell, everyone that worked for him knew why. Alex was a self righteous, single minded, pain in the ass. When a bug got up his ass, there was no getting it out until he found the source of the problem and exterminated it. It had made him extremely efficient as a Ranger, but it had ultimately led to him getting hurt and leaving all of it behind to do what he thought was right. And that was where Alex sat at that moment; trying to do what he thought was right for the country he loved so dearly.
The Sheik was a treasure trove of information and to use him for personal gain seemed abhorrent to Alex. With that kind of intel, the US would be able to crack open so many networks and dismantle so many things that even if most people never knew; the people that mattered would speak of Alexander Atwater and his cohorts as if they were the toast of the town. And with that big victory came more contracts, and more importantly, easier contracts. Contracts that didn’t involve humping it through a desert and taking bullets in the ass.
“The hell we’re turning him over!” Ron snapped.
“Don’t fucking test me, he’s going to JSOC. It’ll mean more work for all of us.” Alex said, trying to reason with Friedman.
“Fuck that, we do this now, we never have to work again. We can walk away.” Friedman said with a cocky grin.
“Are you dense? He’s going to the mother fucking Joint Special Operations Command.” Alex said, chiding Friedman like he was two years old.
Friedman could take it no more, and his arm started to extend again, raising in the direction of Alex’s head. He was going to issue one last command to Alex and if he didn’t comply with turning the Sheik over, he’d eat lead and be left a mess for the desert buzzards to pick their dinner off. As the weapon raised, Alex’s arm shot forward, his hand catching the front of the slide. Driving forward, the slide pushed open and the unused round ejected from the breach. In the middle of that smooth motion, Alex’s thumb clipped the magazine release button and dropped the clip from the receiver.
With the threat of the weapon neutralized, Alex’s wrist turned over, throwing a quick backfist that popped Friedman in the cheek. Friedman’s eyes flared with rage at the strike, and as Alex threw his second blow, his arm came up to block Alex’s. Alex’s leg whipped around, searching for Friedman’s head, but Friedman ducked under the kick. Alex’s leg planted into the sand, causing the granular rock to pack down in its place. Friedman smirked as Alex planted his legs and started to unleash a barrage of strikes, most of which was him trying to pistol whip Alex.
Alex’s arm came up, blocking the barrel of the Sig Sauer from crashing into his head. Alex waited for another swing and blocked it, driving the crown of his head into Friedman’s nose. Instantly, Friedman growled in pain as blood started to flow from the impact sight. Alex could see that Friedman was stunned and grabbed him by the collar, driving his elbow cleanly into Friedman’s jaw. Friedman’s head snapped to the right, and his knees buckled, but he refused to relinquish his grip on Alex, dragging Alex down to the ground with him.
Friedman was still trying to throw weak punches, but Alex laughed as he swatted away his hands. Alex reared back and dropped one more massive punch on Friedman that left him face first in the sand, bleeding out of his nose and existing in a world of pitch black. Alex had leveled a perfect knockout punch and Ron Friedman was laying there. Alex looked up at both of Friedman’s men and then back at the Sheik who was stammering and praying in Arabic. Alex stood up slowly and looked at the other two men with Friedman and put his hands on his hips.
“Now, if we’re done with this bullshit, I’d like to call JSOC so we can all get paid and drink some beer” Alex said with a satisfied smirk on his face.
Alex was about to pull the satellite phone from his pack when he saw Leo Hoffman and Mike Rohmberg coming in his direction. Leo looked rather concerned and Mike looked like he was rather pleased with himself. That meant one thing to Alex. They had done their jobs too well and had found something that was going to be quite disturbing.
“What?” Alex asked.
“Nothing good.” Leo said.
“What?” Alex asked again more forcefully.
“You better call more than JSOC. Better call your spooks too Alex…” Mike responded. “This could be the mother load.”
Diary of a Deadman 10: Dumbed Down
When I look around at the people of my country, sometimes it’s hard to not see what the rest of the world sees.
There are reporters running around trying to be facetious assholes; attempting to get people to sign petitions for things that should mortify a normal, sane, intelligent person. I sat awestruck at the sheer stupidity, and willingness to comply with a few command words. Say I just need you to sign here a few times and you can get someone to agree that someone murdering a two year old should be perfectly legal. If you use a few command words and a nice official tone; you could get someone to agree to throwing jews in ovens again.
And I had to start analyzing why that was the case. Why could you get people to agree to such insane things? Is it just to please an authority figure? I doubt it, because most people don’t give two shits about a badge or a position of power. Is it because they truly believe these crazy things like repealing the right to free speech or promote things like “post birth aborition”? I kinda doubt it on that one. So I started to research what was being taught to our young people.
I can’t lie, I didn’t get the typical American experience for a kid fresh out of high school. I started jumping out of planes and killing shit; the Army was my college, and I took it very seriously. But most kids, go off to their four year university, party it up, waste mommy and daddy’s money and move on to some kind of job. But education is a rather important tenet of the society. We’re only as good as our best and brightest, right?
So why is it, that there are six courses on gender for liberal arts majors at Temple University? Why? Why are our children being taught, for six fucking classes, that gender is a fluid concept and as interchangeable as a god damn pair of socks? Why aren’t they being taught more about political science, actual science, or something that has some kind of culture to it? Why isn’t there one less class on what someone’s gender identity is and one more class on civil ethics?
I suspect the answer is a lot more nefarious than people would like to admit to themselves. Society doesn’t dictate the curriculum of our higher learning establishments. That comes from the academics themselves. And not just the academics, the people that rudder the ships of these entire organizations have but one thing on their minds. This has always been about a take over. It’s always been about making the masses incrementally less intelligent so that the truly intelligent elite could strip away from the unwashed masses without the blithering idiots noticing or caring.
And boy howdy has it been fucking working. People are getting stupider and stupider by the god damn minute. You can tell someone what’s in McDonald’s food, and they’ll respond with “I don’t care” and chomp down another handful of French fries that have silly putty dye and yoga mat foam in them. That was what they fomented, that was what they had strived so diligently for. They wanted the people just smart enough to push their buttons, mow their lawns, and be obedient little worker ants…
Just so long as they’re too stupid to see what’s being done to them.
Just so long as they’re sleepwalking to their graves
Just so long as the people at the top of the chain keep bleeding the cattle dry…
Have Your Whole Fam Wondering Where Their Loved One At
The camera comes on in a parking lot, getting a good shot of a big Dodge Ram pulling to a halt in a parking space. As the truck comes to a stop and shut off, Alex Atwater hops out of the truck with a carry on bag in his hands. He reaches over the walls of the truck bed, his large arm bulging as he picks up the suit case. Setting down the suitcase, his fingers dig into the retractable handle; extending it up and giving it the ability to wheel around easily. Alex pulls the dark sunglasses off his eyes as he looks at the cameras.
Alex grins slightly as he tucks the sunglasses down the front of his US Army t-shirt. “Where do I begin? Andrew Jacobsen? That’s three times now son… give up. Guernica… same thing… that’s three now. Really… who’s leg do you gotta hump to get a dry martini around here?”
Alex starts to snicker a bit and shake his head a bit. “Boys, if you didn’t get the fucking message the first three fucking times… Alex Atwater isn’t fucking playing around with any of you fuckers anymore. It doesn’t matter who you are. I don’t give a fuck if you’re the top of the god damn mountain or the bottom rung of the fucking ladder…. If you get in the fucking ring with me, I’m going to kick the god damn teeth out of your mouth.”
Alex’s rage starts to show in his eyes and his fists start to ball up. “There’s this thing called the Heir to the Throne tournament going on, and it seems that I’ve been knocking around the competition like there’s no tomorrow, so I was given my chance to pick my path after last week. And I picked a path that, for the life of me, seemed to fit my mood and the point I need to prove. There was one man last week that was actually a new face to me in the ring; and that was you Jack.”
Alex cocky smirk spreads across his face as he continues. “So what was that about me underestimating you? What was that shit about you looking ten times better and smarter than me when you walked away from that match with the win? Right, that shit didn’t happen. So what’s the call this week Jack? You’re going to prove the world wrong? You’re going to prove me wrong? I didn’t underestimate shit. Maybe, just maybe, I called a fucking spade a spade. Jack, when I look at you and me, there is no doubt in my mind who the better man in the ring is.”
Alex snarls as he continues, showing his disdain. “I don’t care where you’ve been, or how much of a veteran you think you are. When it comes to raw talent, brute power, and a simple desire to make sure that someone walks away with the win… you just don’t fucking stack up to me. That attitude that I’ve been there and done that so I know better than you just sounds like the ramblings of a tired old never was that is delusional and buying his own bullshit more than he should.”
Alex reaches a hand up and runs it through his short hair, looking at the camera for just a second before he continues. “So when the brass asked me what kind of match I wanted, I figured maybe… ya know… it was time to make Andrew Jacobsen not a liar. Because unlike him, and a lot of people, I know there’s a time and place for things to get bloody and wild. There’s a time to test your meddle and prove that you’ll go to any lengths and do anything to get the god damn job done. And believe me when I say it Jack… I have no problem scraping you off the bottom of my boot like the goose shit of a wrestler you really are.”
Alex smirks and continues. “I need to prove who the real Heir to the Throne is. I need to prove that I belong in the upper echelon of this company, and this right here is my chance to do it. All of the greats that walked through this company spilled their blood and went through war after war to get where they were. Angel and Spike almost murdered each other, Alex Jones has made it a career of wrecking people and leaving them in buckets of blood… and there’s no doubt the road to the top of this mountain is still paved with the twisted and mangled carcasses that you leave behind you.”
Alex takes a step closer to the camera, his muscles getting tense; causing the Army t-shirt to bulge and threaten to rip. “Jack, to be quite honest, while you were being a big shot in piss ant companies and calling it huge shit… I was serving my country and learning I had more in me than I ever thought was there. While you were dropping the ball everywhere you went, I was doing something that mattered. And while you’re still sitting there wondering how in the hell you lost last week, I’m getting ready to beat that ass again.”
Alex smirks and nods as he approaches the camera. “The best fans in the world are going to get one hell of a show when I whoop your ass all over London. From the ring, to the railings, to the crowd, to getting down in the streets of London and leaving it looking like a bunch of the firms came through and had themselves a big brawl. There’s only going to be one god damn difference this fucking time for London. There won’t be a need for a big crowd to create that kind of carnage.”
Alex smirks “It’s only going to take me feeding Jack Gaither a Texas sized good old fashioned American ass whooping to leave London looking like a riot went off.”
Atwater reaches forward and shuts the camera off, causing the screen to go snowy and then dead.
Preventing Winter: Chapter 05
“The fuck he’s going to JSOC! They farmed this out to us thinking it was low level, it’s our shit. We should get the fucking reward. They weren’t the one’s out here getting shot at!” Friedman responded harshly.
“He’s going to fucking JSOC! He’s too important to the country for us to take him for our own gain.” Alex responded with just as much hostility.
“JSOC is going to pay us peanuts. We can strip him of everything and come out of this with enough money to buy our own fucking countries!” Ron screamed back.
“This isn’t about money!” Alex growled.
“Everything is about money! That’s why your fucking ass is out here. Just like me!” Ron snapped.
“Horse shit, you don’t know why I’m out here!” Alex replied in kind. “Don’t question my motives when you’re the one that’s only thinking about the paper god you worship.”
“Fuck you!” Ron screamed. “I’m thinking about what we all fucking deserve. I don’t know about you, but all I ever did was give the Navy everything I had; and they mothballed me like a submarine full of holes when I got hurt on the job.”
“So you turn your back on what’s right?” Alex asked angrily.
“What’s right, is that we get what’s coming too us after years of loyal service.” Ron responded.
“And we will…” Alex said, adding with more emphasis. “When we turn him over to fucking JSOC.”
Alex was certainly hung up on this point. Brian knew why. Hell, everyone that worked for him knew why. Alex was a self righteous, single minded, pain in the ass. When a bug got up his ass, there was no getting it out until he found the source of the problem and exterminated it. It had made him extremely efficient as a Ranger, but it had ultimately led to him getting hurt and leaving all of it behind to do what he thought was right. And that was where Alex sat at that moment; trying to do what he thought was right for the country he loved so dearly.
The Sheik was a treasure trove of information and to use him for personal gain seemed abhorrent to Alex. With that kind of intel, the US would be able to crack open so many networks and dismantle so many things that even if most people never knew; the people that mattered would speak of Alexander Atwater and his cohorts as if they were the toast of the town. And with that big victory came more contracts, and more importantly, easier contracts. Contracts that didn’t involve humping it through a desert and taking bullets in the ass.
“The hell we’re turning him over!” Ron snapped.
“Don’t fucking test me, he’s going to JSOC. It’ll mean more work for all of us.” Alex said, trying to reason with Friedman.
“Fuck that, we do this now, we never have to work again. We can walk away.” Friedman said with a cocky grin.
“Are you dense? He’s going to the mother fucking Joint Special Operations Command.” Alex said, chiding Friedman like he was two years old.
Friedman could take it no more, and his arm started to extend again, raising in the direction of Alex’s head. He was going to issue one last command to Alex and if he didn’t comply with turning the Sheik over, he’d eat lead and be left a mess for the desert buzzards to pick their dinner off. As the weapon raised, Alex’s arm shot forward, his hand catching the front of the slide. Driving forward, the slide pushed open and the unused round ejected from the breach. In the middle of that smooth motion, Alex’s thumb clipped the magazine release button and dropped the clip from the receiver.
With the threat of the weapon neutralized, Alex’s wrist turned over, throwing a quick backfist that popped Friedman in the cheek. Friedman’s eyes flared with rage at the strike, and as Alex threw his second blow, his arm came up to block Alex’s. Alex’s leg whipped around, searching for Friedman’s head, but Friedman ducked under the kick. Alex’s leg planted into the sand, causing the granular rock to pack down in its place. Friedman smirked as Alex planted his legs and started to unleash a barrage of strikes, most of which was him trying to pistol whip Alex.
Alex’s arm came up, blocking the barrel of the Sig Sauer from crashing into his head. Alex waited for another swing and blocked it, driving the crown of his head into Friedman’s nose. Instantly, Friedman growled in pain as blood started to flow from the impact sight. Alex could see that Friedman was stunned and grabbed him by the collar, driving his elbow cleanly into Friedman’s jaw. Friedman’s head snapped to the right, and his knees buckled, but he refused to relinquish his grip on Alex, dragging Alex down to the ground with him.
Friedman was still trying to throw weak punches, but Alex laughed as he swatted away his hands. Alex reared back and dropped one more massive punch on Friedman that left him face first in the sand, bleeding out of his nose and existing in a world of pitch black. Alex had leveled a perfect knockout punch and Ron Friedman was laying there. Alex looked up at both of Friedman’s men and then back at the Sheik who was stammering and praying in Arabic. Alex stood up slowly and looked at the other two men with Friedman and put his hands on his hips.
“Now, if we’re done with this bullshit, I’d like to call JSOC so we can all get paid and drink some beer” Alex said with a satisfied smirk on his face.
Alex was about to pull the satellite phone from his pack when he saw Leo Hoffman and Mike Rohmberg coming in his direction. Leo looked rather concerned and Mike looked like he was rather pleased with himself. That meant one thing to Alex. They had done their jobs too well and had found something that was going to be quite disturbing.
“What?” Alex asked.
“Nothing good.” Leo said.
“What?” Alex asked again more forcefully.
“You better call more than JSOC. Better call your spooks too Alex…” Mike responded. “This could be the mother load.”
Well howdy there pardner.