Sunday, December 1, 2013

Invasion Training...

How do you train for an invasion?  Hard, that's how.  Run 'em till they puke and then make them get up and run some more.  Abuse 'em, psyche and soul, and see how long they hold unit cohesion, how long it takes to break them down into cliques blaming each other for the life they're living.  Then scramble the pack and do it all over again.  When they're twice as tough as they were at first you begin to think they might be getting close to ready.  You train hard because no matter how hard you are on your boys the enemy is going to be harder.  That's how it is, that's how it has to be.

But that's talking about warfare in the physical... Guadalcanal or Normandy.  But there are other kinds of invasions as well, and truth is you train just as hard for those because the beachhead, that first absolutely critical fifty miles between your back and the water, will be just as defended there as anywhere.  I'm in training for the second kind, and I don't expect it to be an easy campaign.  I'll be going into the realms of those who think, who think, they understand the human mind, and they are not a lightweight foe.  I'm going in to correct some deep errors and deliberate ignorance in their thinking, errors that have over the years given rise to quite a collection of miseries including my prime enemy bdsm.  Those errors have been in that mode of thought since very near its' beginnings.  There are many and a many in there whose lives are dependent on those errors remaining in place, and beyond them there are probably ten thousand individuals for every one shrink whose life of sin and contagious misery is justified on some extrapolation of those errors.  It's going to get interesting, and quite possibly hand to hand (so to speak, actually head to head) before the end. 

So I'm in training, driving myself to emulate my enemies actions and intentions to test my own resilience.  It's a matter of pushing and pulling, grinding and cutting and eating cold food under a poncho hiding from an even colder rain so to speak, compelling myself to face now as many of the thoughts they'll be using as weapons as imagination is able to generate running at 110% under nitrous and a blower.  A great deal of this is occurring along the conscious/sub-conscious interface of lucid dreaming.  Let me tell you, lucid dreaming is a very interesting place to train.  There's simply no telling what the hidden back side of your mind will throw at you when you demand it cooperate with a conscious decision.  But, that is the terrain of the battle when the enemy counterattacks, it's really the only way to go about it.

*chuckle*  But no, I've not seen any monkeys trying to spit out an eel, my symbolism are even stranger than that.  Far stranger.


4 comments:

  1. Of course I wish you well! But keep your dispatch lines open. You can't fight this war on your own; no one can, except the One who has already Won it (from an Eternal perspective).

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    1. I'm not sure what you mean Jochanaan... I'm just prepping my head to be sure (or as sure as I can be) that I'm not exposing any vulnerabilities that would allow me to be sidetracked and manipulated. I'm not fighting alone, and I won't be. But I will be moving among a great many for whom the mental structures of the status quo are fiercely defended (there's no place more conservative than a university), and their first defense will be, as it always has been for all of history, an ad hom attack against my sanity. It's as much to be expected as tomorrow's sunrise. The logical counter is to have one's own house in order before facing their oh so condescending mockery intended to silence an uncomfortable thought before it has time to be considered on its' own merits. In encounters such as that we all must stand alone in the moment, there's rarely time or opportunity for another to come to our aid. Before, afterwards, yes... but in the moment? Not likely. So now is the time to dissect the self with the intent of discerning the points they'd be mostly likely to assault, and making sure they're a good deal more than simply bullet proof. Which is what I'm in the process of doing.

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    2. Of course we stand alone in the heat of battle! But by "dispatch lines," I mean keeping in touch with God, by whatever name you call Him/Her, and also to keep talking to your friends. We can help remind you that "sanity is not statistical." (Orwell, 1984)

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