Post by Deleted on Sept 28, 2014 9:13:54 GMT -5
I thought about moving to Mexico. Just leave town and never come back. I think about it late at night, thinking about getting lost in a random mass never to be recognized as I disappear into alleyways or down the river. I think how easy it would be but then I think about something that keeps me for fully giving into that idea. Bryan Worthy...How embarrassing it was to lose my title when I wasn't even pinned. That my crowning accomplishment was stolen from me because someone less competent was in the ring. I only have myself to blame but I am not going to beat myself up for it. I am just going to have to transfer my self-loathing onto Mr. Journalist-man. Though I feel its unfair that I have to face the guy and still be expected to win WAR...unfair, not impossible. Could you imagine it if I won both? I would just have to laugh like hell! It would be the worst thing ever for most people that the long standing tradition of WAR would become the night of Gable. I wouldn't even care that I would get a shot at the world title, I would just want to see the look on everybody's faces when my arm's raised.
Sweeeeet sweet victoryyyy. Hmmmm, I could definitely see a power ballad montage taking form but that is jumping ahead of myself. Right now I have to focus on the first problem...That Buzz has my title and he isn't dead yet. Such an inconvenience but an easy remedy none-the-less. He is probably reveling in his win, enjoying that he showed that cynical stupid-face John Gable that after two other humiliating loses that he could finally stick it to me must have felt amazing. “I'm not a loser anymore!” “I have finally found a profession I might be good at!” “I can finally support myself and not be crushed under the heavy pressures of journalism and its unlivable wages! Hello? Editor? You can suck my reporting balls, I'm out of here!”. Just more reason to send him crashing down. Can't let dreamers survive with their heads in the clouds, just not good for business. If I am not allowed to succeed then no one should be.
Buzz is just on a short high is all. Like most artificial highs, when he comes rocketing down, he'll be heaving and puking and bleeding and regretting everything. I'll make sure the whole company will be doing such by the end of Sunday night. Hell, you might be experiencing a woozy feeling right now. Just close your eyes and keep telling yourself it's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a dream. Then open your eyes to the grim reality that you just can't escape. Rest assured that the end is coming and take solace in the fact that there is nothing you can do about it. With a thought like that, anything else is possible, the world becomes one opened play ground when you don't have a reason to care, All you have to do is forget winning WAR. It will hurt at first but it will all seem like a faded memory after a while and maybe, depending how far you choose to take your new freedom, wrestling will become a faded memory as well. God knows more people need to give up on it. Face it, not everyone is good at what they want to be...except for me. But let's face it, I was born to be the best there ever will be at whatever could be so lucky for me to put my mind to.
The only difficulty I ever faced was popular opinion. I don't know what it is but people naturally just repel from me for some reason. I do my best to deliver the best product I can and work endlessly to refine my craft but no matter how far I get all I am ever faced with are boos! Last week with Bryan, it was a mockery that they would choose him over me! I put in more effort, I chose the more intelligent work, I did everything I could, I poured my heart into it but they all cheered for...for...“I am Groot”...A maiden died that night and her name was theatre.
You see, it mainly stems from the fact that people have no respect for how things came to be. They just take it for granted and vroom! They are off to the next big thing without another thought. Before the computer, there had to be thousands of years of scientific research before even the earliest form of the processor was even thought about. I am pretty sure if you went out onto the streets and asked who invented the first hard drive system they would come back with answers like “Albert Einstein” or “that crippled dude in the wheelchair...”. It is the same thing with almost everything else nowadays. Plays, movies, games, cars, air conditioning, planes, medicine, literature, even wrestling and T.V. No one really cares about the collective work of the people who got us to where we are now; no respect for history. The greatest men of humanity's run forgotten by all the ungrateful, retarded, vile people of NOW culture. I should have be praised for the performance I gave last week and for the magnificent piece I had chosen, but like most things with any sort of intellectuality to it, it falls to simplicity. “I am Groot”, a disrespectful smear not only against me but also against Shakespeare, actors, and theatre all together. Forgive them Art, for they know not what they do!
I can't lie, if I ruled the world it would be a dictatorship. The people would have to be forced to appreciate what they have and how it came to be. But I wouldn't stop there. I would force them to face their own dose of criticism. “This guy sucks donkey dick” “He should kill himself” “If you don't repost this comment on fifty other...” whoa, how did that get in there? Anyways the point is I would make them taste their own medicine and make them realize the harsh world of sensationalism they have created where things can't simply be disliked and the effort can't be appreciated, we have to violently hate everything because it makes us feel better about ourselves. Well, in a world ruled by me, no one would get to feel better about themselves. But I digress, for it isn't necessarily the spectators whom are the enemy, even though the only thing worse than professional critic is an amateur one.
The real enemy is Buzz. He is the one who sinks as low as fanfare to try and get another cheap victory over me! He is the one that is not challenging people to think for more than a minute out of the day. Can't entirely blame the dead when the poison is everywhere. The people cheer for Buzz but he doesn't care about them. He just cares about the praise. If he truly care, he would have chosen a monologue that showed some effort. Maybe something from Tennessee Williams or George Abbott or one of the many other great Playwrights. He could have stimulated minds instead of just burying them. He could have made a difference but he would rather make a fool out of me.
Buzz, people like you. That is obvious to see. You have this sort of gravitation that the audience just can't ignore. You don't have to sink to their level to get approval. They are willing to listen to you. You could bring so many of them out of the darkness and show them the world as it truly is. It isn't just about today, there is a long line of rich history and it isn't just about one community, the world is filled with colorful cultures of different thoughts, reasoning and languages. You could show them how humanity has fought to make the world a better place and how we are so close to throw that away. Isn't that your job as a reporter after all? To bring the masses the power of information and freedom of the press? You are suppose to be better than everyone else. You are suppose to be one of the good ones!
“I am Groot”...What a spit in the face. Couldn't just enjoy the one victory over me, had to drag me out and humiliate me some more. I thought you were suppose to be the bigger man. I thought the people were suppose to like humble winners but instead they cheer for an idiot man child who within less than a month has already let the title go to his head. It is only more reason to take the title back. Not for my sake but for yours. I have to get you back on solid ground and back to being a rational thinker like myself instead of some crowd pleaser.
Why am I talking to you in my journal?...Oh well, when your going nuts, go full retard or don't go at all. But anyways, Buzz, I am going to tell you exactly what I am going to do if I win that title back...Since people didn't seem to appreciate the Cinema Championship too much then I am just going to have to do something different. I have decided to melt it down. That is right, I am going to take all the gold plates and strip them off the belt so I can reform it into something better. You wanna know what I am going to reform it into? A crown! I am going to take that title, sterilize it from your sickening run and going to turn it into a crown fit for King Leukemia.
I will not be a champion of Television, whatever the hell that means. I am going to be King of the Arts. I am going to set a precedent for all those whose legacies are in danger from a cultural retardation. I will proudly represent the people who can't represent themselves. The people who made TV one of the many possibilities out of their work! Though I accept that maybe I will be more like Macbeth but won't let my efforts run down my leg. I will destroy all who stands between me and my crown! Someone must rule the people, why not me?
I stood in a large office that was mainly decorated with oil paintings of war and dark green felt like a pool table. I had conquered the enemy and took control of operations. This former General's office is now my war room where I can gather my people to discuss how we take on the next part of my plan. Complete and utter world domination...It seems so simple when I say it out loud.
You see, when me and my men returned to base, we weaved a story that the men we killed had been killed by those pesky Jerrys and that they stayed behind and tried to cover us while we escaped...such brave men. I was going to write a script for that section and show you in a montage but...simplicity, right? Anyways, while everyone mourned the loses, my men and I would slowly spread the truth that they were really sent to kill us. Once word got out that it was a set up, the tensions at base were high and suddenly the commanding officers had a lot more problems to deal with. The discipline slowly crumbled like a mountain into sand and everyone soon became a part of the republic of self-preservation.
We organized meetings a little ways from camp in a bar in some random German city and discuss the possibilities. But it didn't matter too much since all the plans were thrown out the window all in one morning when a commanding officer blew up on a private then everyone blew up on him. It was a hell of a fight, wish I could have shown it to you but ya'know...simplicity and all. But eventually more commanding officers came then more rebelling soldiers. Soon it was a full on mutiny. Tents and radio towers were being torn down, Commanders and such were being tide up and locked in windowless rooms and the whole camp roared as they tossed one thing after another into one pile and lit it on fire. What a show. Word eventually got out that we took over the base and they tried sending reinforcements after us but we sent them packing when we pulled out the tanks. It was Battleship Potemkin but on a grander scale! We finally had control.
Now I stood in this office thinking about my next steps. The soldiers were patiently waiting outside for my words and damn it I would deliver it to them and it was going to be remembered through out all of history. This was the day I would lead a new army to victory and give the world a sobering slap in the face! WAR was upon us and I was going to eliminate everyone who stood in my path. Famous last words of most but I felt that I would be able to say at least a few more things beyond that. Because it isn't just WAR that matters; there are so many other things on the line. There is a whole future at stake if I make the wrong moves. I need to plan my next steps out very carefully. I looked out to the window and up into the sky. Still Blue...
The sky never changed, not for a General, a President, an Emperor or a King. The sky could never be conquered by man. The world would keep on turning and even on the most victorious days, it could rain and wash away the blood of a grueling battle. Nature didn't give a fuck about anyone. It kind of made you question freewill to a point. Am I really the one conquering over the military in a cue or am I just serving a path that couldn't be derailed? Not a time to get philosophical I suppose...
I pondered for a while at what I was going to say. It was mostly going to be rhetoric and nonsense talking points but that is what people gravitated to. Even though I wish to raise the potential of the world with an iron first, I still had to play by the rules to cooperate and masses didn't like hearing direct plans from their leaders. Just watch a debate sometime. They fill their speeches will simple phrases like “America will overcome” “This is as a country of bravery and as such I believe...” “With the help of the American people, we can get this done”. That is the shit that people bust a nut over. They like being told that the team they are fighting for is the best in the entire world and that is exactly what I was going to tell them...simplicity is king.
I walked up to my balcony doors and looked out to the masses standing out there waiting for my words. I slowly pushed pass the doors and stood out in the open air. A second ago, I didn't feel like anything. I was just a man who didn't know any better than anyone else. But out on the balcony, I was the mysterious, charismatic man that the US military had learned to fear and whom all these soldiers have learned to respect if not worship. I stared out at them for a moment as they all looked up in anticipation at what course of action we must take next...God damn...
John Gable: My brothers. We are stuck within the days. We are gasping for air. We are the stolen people. Kidnapped into a wisp and held hostage on a hideaway that remains eternally distant. We are not acknowledged; we are not heard. There is no one to hear us, we have to think… Claustrophobia and fatigue pound our hearts bruised. The greys of loneliness exemplified in every face and on every head. We all think the same indifferent thought. We are not born from humanity as it was known. Those promises did not mold our convictions. Our distress is what steers us now. We ascend in desperation for Heaven. This is the tragedy that we have been fitted to. It is here we sign out to the rest of universe. We are the Children of the Calamity…We have suffered…We shall suffer no more!
A roar erupted from the soldiers with whistles and a-hooting and a-hollering. I held my hands up to steady the rambunctious men so I could continue to speak.
John Gable: Is it fair we have to kill and be killed in a war we did not ask for? No! Is it fair that those who sit in their luxury get to judge and blame us when things go wrong? No! Is it fair that I have to watch men I have grown to know as my brothers fall before my eyes when it was all so damn avoidable? No! We did not ask for this hell but for some reason they treat us like we did. Well, I say if they wanted to through us into hell, then less climb out and bring it back with us!
I pounded my fist on the railing of the balcony. There was still some whistling but the soldiers did their best to restrain themselves so they could continue to hear what I had to say...
John Gable: We didn't choose to be a part of the war they signed us up for but now we have a war of our own making with a cause we can get behind and no one is going to stomp on us ever again! We will continue on into the sulfur and brimstone and claim what is ours! If people condemn us and criticize us for what we choose to do then I only have one response for them...It is better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven!
The army roared once again but took significantly less time to quiet down.
John Gable: Now I wouldn't blame any of you for being worried or scared about this new life we have created but I ask that you fight beside me, not as a captain to a private nor as a general to the rest of the army but like we have been, soldier to soldier! War is barren not only in healthy but also in empathy but that doesn't mean we have to suffer. Our grandest prize has been taken away from us but all we have to do now is when it back but not only to stop there but to continue on until we have the whole damn thing! We must keep onwards and not falter no matter what happens! We must keep strong, my brothers are the system will over take us again and turn us into dancing turkeys that they get to shoot at. I refuse to be live game to anyone anymore! I am a man damn it and I demand to be treated like one. There is nothing separating us from those who sit on top. There is nothing that makes them better than us! We deserve it just as much as they do and they are keep it from us...God damn! What the hell are we to them? Rats? No! Rats need money to keep themselves warm, we just need our brothers to be there when we fall, then we will survive the toughest winters without so much as a shiver. Let us not try to lie to the people just to get what we want. Let us not sink to a lower level just to be liked...because a leader doing his job shouldn't be liked but should be understood! What I ask of you is this...March with me, take the world as we know it and burn away the prejudices, the ignorance, the simplicity, the lies and poor the ashes into the sea. We will no longer need these broken tools to win! The people will know our plight. They will be scared at first but they will grow to understand. All new things are scary but once they see that we don't waver or stutter or tip toe around questions, then they will realize we are what is best for the world. So I ask you! Who's with me?!
I raised my arms into the air and the whole army followed as the roar once again arose and this time louder than before. I stared out to my people, feeling a power surge through me like the world was mine and no one could stop me when all of a sudden...
Zzzzzzzip, Splat!
A bullet ran right through my heart. I collapsed to the ground as the soldiers gasped in horror. If my character had stayed alive long enough, he would have learned that behind him was a man...A man from the seven he had been a part of. A man who never been a super patriot but he never wanted to hurt anyone and he never wanted to conquer the world. He just wanted to get home to his family, to his wife he had been married to for eight years and to his three and six year old daughters who constantly asked “when is daddy coming home?” Who knew something so simple could lead a man to kill his fellow soldier, who fought beside him in the harshest times and saved him from certain death. Oh well, it's too late now. Now the world knows it can happen. It will be in history books forever. World War Two, the war America turned on itself. No one will forget this tragedy even if we win or lose, there will always be that scare they can never hide...
In WAR, nothing is sacred. There are no allies and there will never be an honest way out. We are forced to throw everything else aside as the one thing we truly want is dangled right in front of us. It is cruel but it is life. Do I want to keep fighting for the promise of gold? No, but I will because it is what I need to get where I want to be and they know that. They always did know that and I think that is why they always keep it slightly out of reach. So I can remain a tool of theirs forever as they rip my future right out of my grasp. When will the torment end? When will I be able to finally get passed all this violence? When will I get out from under the boot of those who think they are oh so better to me? When will WAR end? When?...Maybe I can still move out to Mexico...Nah...
(fin)
Sweeeeet sweet victoryyyy. Hmmmm, I could definitely see a power ballad montage taking form but that is jumping ahead of myself. Right now I have to focus on the first problem...That Buzz has my title and he isn't dead yet. Such an inconvenience but an easy remedy none-the-less. He is probably reveling in his win, enjoying that he showed that cynical stupid-face John Gable that after two other humiliating loses that he could finally stick it to me must have felt amazing. “I'm not a loser anymore!” “I have finally found a profession I might be good at!” “I can finally support myself and not be crushed under the heavy pressures of journalism and its unlivable wages! Hello? Editor? You can suck my reporting balls, I'm out of here!”. Just more reason to send him crashing down. Can't let dreamers survive with their heads in the clouds, just not good for business. If I am not allowed to succeed then no one should be.
Buzz is just on a short high is all. Like most artificial highs, when he comes rocketing down, he'll be heaving and puking and bleeding and regretting everything. I'll make sure the whole company will be doing such by the end of Sunday night. Hell, you might be experiencing a woozy feeling right now. Just close your eyes and keep telling yourself it's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a dream. Then open your eyes to the grim reality that you just can't escape. Rest assured that the end is coming and take solace in the fact that there is nothing you can do about it. With a thought like that, anything else is possible, the world becomes one opened play ground when you don't have a reason to care, All you have to do is forget winning WAR. It will hurt at first but it will all seem like a faded memory after a while and maybe, depending how far you choose to take your new freedom, wrestling will become a faded memory as well. God knows more people need to give up on it. Face it, not everyone is good at what they want to be...except for me. But let's face it, I was born to be the best there ever will be at whatever could be so lucky for me to put my mind to.
The only difficulty I ever faced was popular opinion. I don't know what it is but people naturally just repel from me for some reason. I do my best to deliver the best product I can and work endlessly to refine my craft but no matter how far I get all I am ever faced with are boos! Last week with Bryan, it was a mockery that they would choose him over me! I put in more effort, I chose the more intelligent work, I did everything I could, I poured my heart into it but they all cheered for...for...“I am Groot”...A maiden died that night and her name was theatre.
You see, it mainly stems from the fact that people have no respect for how things came to be. They just take it for granted and vroom! They are off to the next big thing without another thought. Before the computer, there had to be thousands of years of scientific research before even the earliest form of the processor was even thought about. I am pretty sure if you went out onto the streets and asked who invented the first hard drive system they would come back with answers like “Albert Einstein” or “that crippled dude in the wheelchair...”. It is the same thing with almost everything else nowadays. Plays, movies, games, cars, air conditioning, planes, medicine, literature, even wrestling and T.V. No one really cares about the collective work of the people who got us to where we are now; no respect for history. The greatest men of humanity's run forgotten by all the ungrateful, retarded, vile people of NOW culture. I should have be praised for the performance I gave last week and for the magnificent piece I had chosen, but like most things with any sort of intellectuality to it, it falls to simplicity. “I am Groot”, a disrespectful smear not only against me but also against Shakespeare, actors, and theatre all together. Forgive them Art, for they know not what they do!
I can't lie, if I ruled the world it would be a dictatorship. The people would have to be forced to appreciate what they have and how it came to be. But I wouldn't stop there. I would force them to face their own dose of criticism. “This guy sucks donkey dick” “He should kill himself” “If you don't repost this comment on fifty other...” whoa, how did that get in there? Anyways the point is I would make them taste their own medicine and make them realize the harsh world of sensationalism they have created where things can't simply be disliked and the effort can't be appreciated, we have to violently hate everything because it makes us feel better about ourselves. Well, in a world ruled by me, no one would get to feel better about themselves. But I digress, for it isn't necessarily the spectators whom are the enemy, even though the only thing worse than professional critic is an amateur one.
The real enemy is Buzz. He is the one who sinks as low as fanfare to try and get another cheap victory over me! He is the one that is not challenging people to think for more than a minute out of the day. Can't entirely blame the dead when the poison is everywhere. The people cheer for Buzz but he doesn't care about them. He just cares about the praise. If he truly care, he would have chosen a monologue that showed some effort. Maybe something from Tennessee Williams or George Abbott or one of the many other great Playwrights. He could have stimulated minds instead of just burying them. He could have made a difference but he would rather make a fool out of me.
Buzz, people like you. That is obvious to see. You have this sort of gravitation that the audience just can't ignore. You don't have to sink to their level to get approval. They are willing to listen to you. You could bring so many of them out of the darkness and show them the world as it truly is. It isn't just about today, there is a long line of rich history and it isn't just about one community, the world is filled with colorful cultures of different thoughts, reasoning and languages. You could show them how humanity has fought to make the world a better place and how we are so close to throw that away. Isn't that your job as a reporter after all? To bring the masses the power of information and freedom of the press? You are suppose to be better than everyone else. You are suppose to be one of the good ones!
“I am Groot”...What a spit in the face. Couldn't just enjoy the one victory over me, had to drag me out and humiliate me some more. I thought you were suppose to be the bigger man. I thought the people were suppose to like humble winners but instead they cheer for an idiot man child who within less than a month has already let the title go to his head. It is only more reason to take the title back. Not for my sake but for yours. I have to get you back on solid ground and back to being a rational thinker like myself instead of some crowd pleaser.
Why am I talking to you in my journal?...Oh well, when your going nuts, go full retard or don't go at all. But anyways, Buzz, I am going to tell you exactly what I am going to do if I win that title back...Since people didn't seem to appreciate the Cinema Championship too much then I am just going to have to do something different. I have decided to melt it down. That is right, I am going to take all the gold plates and strip them off the belt so I can reform it into something better. You wanna know what I am going to reform it into? A crown! I am going to take that title, sterilize it from your sickening run and going to turn it into a crown fit for King Leukemia.
I will not be a champion of Television, whatever the hell that means. I am going to be King of the Arts. I am going to set a precedent for all those whose legacies are in danger from a cultural retardation. I will proudly represent the people who can't represent themselves. The people who made TV one of the many possibilities out of their work! Though I accept that maybe I will be more like Macbeth but won't let my efforts run down my leg. I will destroy all who stands between me and my crown! Someone must rule the people, why not me?
I stood in a large office that was mainly decorated with oil paintings of war and dark green felt like a pool table. I had conquered the enemy and took control of operations. This former General's office is now my war room where I can gather my people to discuss how we take on the next part of my plan. Complete and utter world domination...It seems so simple when I say it out loud.
You see, when me and my men returned to base, we weaved a story that the men we killed had been killed by those pesky Jerrys and that they stayed behind and tried to cover us while we escaped...such brave men. I was going to write a script for that section and show you in a montage but...simplicity, right? Anyways, while everyone mourned the loses, my men and I would slowly spread the truth that they were really sent to kill us. Once word got out that it was a set up, the tensions at base were high and suddenly the commanding officers had a lot more problems to deal with. The discipline slowly crumbled like a mountain into sand and everyone soon became a part of the republic of self-preservation.
We organized meetings a little ways from camp in a bar in some random German city and discuss the possibilities. But it didn't matter too much since all the plans were thrown out the window all in one morning when a commanding officer blew up on a private then everyone blew up on him. It was a hell of a fight, wish I could have shown it to you but ya'know...simplicity and all. But eventually more commanding officers came then more rebelling soldiers. Soon it was a full on mutiny. Tents and radio towers were being torn down, Commanders and such were being tide up and locked in windowless rooms and the whole camp roared as they tossed one thing after another into one pile and lit it on fire. What a show. Word eventually got out that we took over the base and they tried sending reinforcements after us but we sent them packing when we pulled out the tanks. It was Battleship Potemkin but on a grander scale! We finally had control.
Now I stood in this office thinking about my next steps. The soldiers were patiently waiting outside for my words and damn it I would deliver it to them and it was going to be remembered through out all of history. This was the day I would lead a new army to victory and give the world a sobering slap in the face! WAR was upon us and I was going to eliminate everyone who stood in my path. Famous last words of most but I felt that I would be able to say at least a few more things beyond that. Because it isn't just WAR that matters; there are so many other things on the line. There is a whole future at stake if I make the wrong moves. I need to plan my next steps out very carefully. I looked out to the window and up into the sky. Still Blue...
The sky never changed, not for a General, a President, an Emperor or a King. The sky could never be conquered by man. The world would keep on turning and even on the most victorious days, it could rain and wash away the blood of a grueling battle. Nature didn't give a fuck about anyone. It kind of made you question freewill to a point. Am I really the one conquering over the military in a cue or am I just serving a path that couldn't be derailed? Not a time to get philosophical I suppose...
I pondered for a while at what I was going to say. It was mostly going to be rhetoric and nonsense talking points but that is what people gravitated to. Even though I wish to raise the potential of the world with an iron first, I still had to play by the rules to cooperate and masses didn't like hearing direct plans from their leaders. Just watch a debate sometime. They fill their speeches will simple phrases like “America will overcome” “This is as a country of bravery and as such I believe...” “With the help of the American people, we can get this done”. That is the shit that people bust a nut over. They like being told that the team they are fighting for is the best in the entire world and that is exactly what I was going to tell them...simplicity is king.
I walked up to my balcony doors and looked out to the masses standing out there waiting for my words. I slowly pushed pass the doors and stood out in the open air. A second ago, I didn't feel like anything. I was just a man who didn't know any better than anyone else. But out on the balcony, I was the mysterious, charismatic man that the US military had learned to fear and whom all these soldiers have learned to respect if not worship. I stared out at them for a moment as they all looked up in anticipation at what course of action we must take next...God damn...
John Gable: My brothers. We are stuck within the days. We are gasping for air. We are the stolen people. Kidnapped into a wisp and held hostage on a hideaway that remains eternally distant. We are not acknowledged; we are not heard. There is no one to hear us, we have to think… Claustrophobia and fatigue pound our hearts bruised. The greys of loneliness exemplified in every face and on every head. We all think the same indifferent thought. We are not born from humanity as it was known. Those promises did not mold our convictions. Our distress is what steers us now. We ascend in desperation for Heaven. This is the tragedy that we have been fitted to. It is here we sign out to the rest of universe. We are the Children of the Calamity…We have suffered…We shall suffer no more!
A roar erupted from the soldiers with whistles and a-hooting and a-hollering. I held my hands up to steady the rambunctious men so I could continue to speak.
John Gable: Is it fair we have to kill and be killed in a war we did not ask for? No! Is it fair that those who sit in their luxury get to judge and blame us when things go wrong? No! Is it fair that I have to watch men I have grown to know as my brothers fall before my eyes when it was all so damn avoidable? No! We did not ask for this hell but for some reason they treat us like we did. Well, I say if they wanted to through us into hell, then less climb out and bring it back with us!
I pounded my fist on the railing of the balcony. There was still some whistling but the soldiers did their best to restrain themselves so they could continue to hear what I had to say...
John Gable: We didn't choose to be a part of the war they signed us up for but now we have a war of our own making with a cause we can get behind and no one is going to stomp on us ever again! We will continue on into the sulfur and brimstone and claim what is ours! If people condemn us and criticize us for what we choose to do then I only have one response for them...It is better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven!
The army roared once again but took significantly less time to quiet down.
John Gable: Now I wouldn't blame any of you for being worried or scared about this new life we have created but I ask that you fight beside me, not as a captain to a private nor as a general to the rest of the army but like we have been, soldier to soldier! War is barren not only in healthy but also in empathy but that doesn't mean we have to suffer. Our grandest prize has been taken away from us but all we have to do now is when it back but not only to stop there but to continue on until we have the whole damn thing! We must keep onwards and not falter no matter what happens! We must keep strong, my brothers are the system will over take us again and turn us into dancing turkeys that they get to shoot at. I refuse to be live game to anyone anymore! I am a man damn it and I demand to be treated like one. There is nothing separating us from those who sit on top. There is nothing that makes them better than us! We deserve it just as much as they do and they are keep it from us...God damn! What the hell are we to them? Rats? No! Rats need money to keep themselves warm, we just need our brothers to be there when we fall, then we will survive the toughest winters without so much as a shiver. Let us not try to lie to the people just to get what we want. Let us not sink to a lower level just to be liked...because a leader doing his job shouldn't be liked but should be understood! What I ask of you is this...March with me, take the world as we know it and burn away the prejudices, the ignorance, the simplicity, the lies and poor the ashes into the sea. We will no longer need these broken tools to win! The people will know our plight. They will be scared at first but they will grow to understand. All new things are scary but once they see that we don't waver or stutter or tip toe around questions, then they will realize we are what is best for the world. So I ask you! Who's with me?!
I raised my arms into the air and the whole army followed as the roar once again arose and this time louder than before. I stared out to my people, feeling a power surge through me like the world was mine and no one could stop me when all of a sudden...
Zzzzzzzip, Splat!
A bullet ran right through my heart. I collapsed to the ground as the soldiers gasped in horror. If my character had stayed alive long enough, he would have learned that behind him was a man...A man from the seven he had been a part of. A man who never been a super patriot but he never wanted to hurt anyone and he never wanted to conquer the world. He just wanted to get home to his family, to his wife he had been married to for eight years and to his three and six year old daughters who constantly asked “when is daddy coming home?” Who knew something so simple could lead a man to kill his fellow soldier, who fought beside him in the harshest times and saved him from certain death. Oh well, it's too late now. Now the world knows it can happen. It will be in history books forever. World War Two, the war America turned on itself. No one will forget this tragedy even if we win or lose, there will always be that scare they can never hide...
In WAR, nothing is sacred. There are no allies and there will never be an honest way out. We are forced to throw everything else aside as the one thing we truly want is dangled right in front of us. It is cruel but it is life. Do I want to keep fighting for the promise of gold? No, but I will because it is what I need to get where I want to be and they know that. They always did know that and I think that is why they always keep it slightly out of reach. So I can remain a tool of theirs forever as they rip my future right out of my grasp. When will the torment end? When will I be able to finally get passed all this violence? When will I get out from under the boot of those who think they are oh so better to me? When will WAR end? When?...Maybe I can still move out to Mexico...Nah...
(fin)
