I'm seriously worried about the Trump victories. I'm not an American, but I care about this country a great deal, and in the past decade and a half have gradually been converted to the right. Now, I won't get into the reasons I'm on the right, but I'll just say that I obviously believe that a lot of the bad things that are said about the right are false.
Then Trump arrived.
The problem with Trump is that he turns all of the negative stereotypes about the right into a reality. Suddenly a bunch of racists on facebook use the term "cuckservative", a deragatory term meant to mock mainstream conservatives. This is bad. One of the two biggest political parties in the US is slowly being taken over by rubes. I know that Bush was attacked the same way, but I believe the attacks on him were wrong. Trump is a true danger to the party and, if elected, to the republic.
Please plussed if you've enjoyed it and would like to read the next part.
Author: Grant
Translated to English by: Grant
DISCLAIMER: THE OPINIONS OF CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY REFLECT ONLY THE OPINIONS OF THE CHARACTERS, NOT THOSE OF THE AUTHOR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY IT WITHOUT INFORMING AND CREDITING THE AUTHOR.
This might NOT be suitable for young readers. I do not force anyone to read it. You CHOOSE whether or not you do.
“Your wife will die in the next few days. Take a few seconds to come to terms with it.”
These words snapped the soldier back to reality. He slowly lifted his head toward the speaker.
Despite the swelling in both his eyes (insignificant damage compared to the torture he had to endure in the past three days) the soldier managed to focus his gaze in the man in front of him. An unshaven savage with a black beret on his head and a cigar in his mouth. He identified the savage immediately. It was Eduardo Bernero, leader of the rebels, a pathetic rip off of Che Guevara.
Bernero continued: “Oh, yes, we know who you are and who your wife is, Agent Frank Marcus Davis. And your precious Jessica… One of my men is on his way to her parents’ house in Lincoln, Nebraska. She’s finished.”
Bernero paused for a moment to puff on his cigar, and, of course, to give Davis a moment to reflect on his words, to internalize that he knows where his in-laws live, where his wife is.
“Even if you break right this second and give us the information that we tried to extract from you in… how do you Americans call it… enhanced interrogation techniques? Even if you do so, you have to be punished for your refusal to cooperate. So she’s dead. The question is… what about your children?”
Davis wanted to say something, something like “you leave my family out if this” or “if you touch them I’ll murder you” or any other empty threat, but he knew that the man in front of him had been threatened in the past, and nothing he could say will change the situation to his advantage. He also knew that Bernero will never cancel the order of his wife’s assassination. He will never see Jessica ever again.
“I’ve read your file, Agent Davis. Did you really think that just because you pretend to be friends of the rebels we’ll refrain from planting spies in your country? Did you really think you can come here and do whatever mission you’d like, on our soil, without confiding in us first?”
Davis smiled. “I’ve read your file as well, Bernero. A Harvard graduate, correct? I’m a Yale man myself, but that does not mean there can’t be peace between our peoples.”
Bernero smiled back. “For three days my men have been trying to ask you one simple question. About forty kilometers to your left is the castle of Adam Schneider. Your government wants to execute him, and I want to execute him. You Americans have supplied me with more weapons and money than I can manage just so I’d take down the dictator, you’ve coordinated positions with me perfectly so I could take down the dictator, you’ve helped me recruit people and take over half the villages in this area so I’ll take down the dictator, and then, all of the sudden, right before I give you Schneider’s head on a silver platter, all of the sudden I learn that you and your friends are planning your own operation against him, and leaving me out of the game, with all of the men and money you’ve helped me organize exactly for that cause. That seems very suspicious to me, Davis. Does it not look suspicious to you?”
“I haven’t talked until today. What makes you think I’ll talk now?”
Bernero smiled. “You’re going to die today. Your wife will join you soon. Meanwhile I’ll also kill Schneider, and as many Americans as are willing to stand in my way. I’ll get my information in either case. The way I get it depends on the amount of love you have for your children.”
Davis realized he’s gotten to the end of the road, and he must make a choice. Without thinking, he convinced himself that the sacrifice of his own children will not help protect his country’s secrets.
Davis breathed heavily, as if the revealing the information will cause him greater physical pain than the torture, and greater emotional pain than the death of his family. But what choice did he have? Bernero will go to war with Schneider anyway, will kill Jessica anyway, so what does the sacrifice of the children accomplish?
“Fine, you’ve won, Bernero. The truth is we’ve received reports that Schneider put his hand on a top secret American technology, something that had not been seen in the past, something that very few people know about. We were not told what it was, but apparently it’s something that can change the world. This is all I know. We didn’t come here to plan a secret mission against you, Bernero, but only against Schneider. We wanted to put our hands on that technology before it’s sold to Ahmadinejad, and before you’ll get to it. We were not told what technology it is. Not even all government secretaries know what it is.”
Bernero contemptuously spitted his cigar at Davis. “You treat your ally like an enemy? This is how you build trust?
Davis laughed. “Who are you to preach us? You’re on this land against Schneider’s will, just like me. You’re conspiring to topple him, just like me. You’ve killed, and you’re betraying your allies, and you’re planning to murder children!”
Bernero sent his hand behind his back and pulled a Berretta pistol. He aimed it to Davis’ head. “Hey, like Woody Allen says, “Whatever Works”, right? Now tell me about that technology, for the children.”
“I’ve told you everything! We weren’t told anything! We don’t know anything!”
“Then tell me the rumors.”
“I don’t know!” Cried Davis. “I know that we’re talking about equipment light years away from anything that was ever seen, and I know that Schneider holds it in a bunker under his castle. We were made clear that it’s better to destroy that equipment than let it fall in foreign hands. Over two hundred people are going to storm the castle. So good luck to you against the entire US Central Intelligence Agency, okay?”
Bernero lowered his pistol a bit and gazed into Davis’ face, in silence and in awe.
“You haven’t given me much. In fact, you’ve given me less than your friends. Which is weird as they’re single men with no children and so it was harder to create mental leverage on them before they were executed.”
Davis rose, his hands still bound to his chair, which was now dangling behind him. “You stinkin traitor!” He spewed at Bernero.
No muscle moved in Bernero’s face. “Sit!” He ordered.
Davis was furious. How can this punk even dare to go to war against the American nation? And how the hell does he know so much about a black ops force that not even the top officials in the American government know about? The only comfort, Davis knew, is that his group was so secret, that even the exposure of some of its members has to narrow the suspect list to less than ten names. The double agent who works for Bernero, who ever it is, must know he’ll be caught soon.
The gun in Bernero’s hand made Davis rethink his moves. He had to remind himself that these were his last moment, the final part of the marathon, the part where you only have to get to the finish line. All goals in his life, those he strived to get for himself, his family, and his country, were now divided into two simple categories: Those he had completed, and those he will never complete. All but one goal that remained open: To secure the future of the children before his own life ends. And if the American government doesn’t like that, the American government can go fuck itself.
Davis sat down obediently. “You’ve asked all I know so I’ve given all I know.”
“Okay.” Bernero said silently.
“So you will spare my children, right?”
Bernero continues to stand in silence.
“Right???”
A bullet split the heart of Frank Marcus Davis.
------------------------------------------------
Lisa went over her papers one last time. Yes, it was all there, in order. All that was left now is one final phone call. She rose from her laptop and started walking toward the phone, passing the television on her way. On the screen was the face of Vice President Walter Tillman, who was mumbling something about the importance of helping the rebels, and how much the Cooper administration is obligated to do anything to fight Adam Schneider. That idiot, Tillman, must be fantasizing about the elimination of all of Latin America. Whatever. He and Cooper can both go to hell.
Just as Lisa leaned toward the receiver on the wall, the phone began to ring. She picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hey, Lisa? It’s Bethany. I’m sorry I’m late. I’ll literally be in the elevator in a minute. Okay?”
“Oh, hey, Bethany. No sweat. You’re just on time. I’ll be right out. I’ll see you in a minute.”
“Okay, bye.”
They both hung up. Lisa leaned in toward Connor, who was sitting there, quietly looking out the window.
“Hey, Connor.” Lisa whispered. “I don’t have much time, but it’s important that you’ll always know I love you, that everything I’ve done my entire life was only in the interest of helping the weak, and that I’ve made sure you’ll be taken care of, for your entire life. The babysitter is on her way, so you will not be alone for too long. But I have to go out, okay?”
Lisa lifted the cradle Connor was sitting in, and turned it so he’ll face away from the window. Then she moved away from him, walked toward the window, opened the glass, and leaned forward.
Lisa Kravitz lived with her one year old child on the 17th floor.
As I was walking from the university to the apartment, hashing it all up in my head, scenarios started coming to me, from real and fictional events, about that attitude of having that debate, that discussion, open and honest. Dennis Prager, my #1 hero, has several catch phrases. One of them is "I prefer clarity to agreements". I'm actually writing something about him for an essay a friend of mine is doing. I'll post that here later on.
One of the things I thought about was Barack Obama, and his book "Dreams from My Father". In that book, Obama describes his father, Barack Obama Sr., as someone who could walk to a room filled with haters and disarm them with his words and good character. I didn't finish the book, but I understand that despite some unresolved issues, and some anger, he looks up to his father. That might be a part of why he's always into talking to the most vile characters on the planet. While I do understand where he's coming from, I think in some contexts that attitude is wrong. Nevertheless, it should be helpful in some occassions, as I'll talk about in a second.
Another anecdote I thought about was an article I read once by Thomas Sowell (a black conservative, how'bout that?). Sowell wrote an article about civil discourse, and how it's gradually disappearing from the view in America. He told a story of how his friend once told him that HER friend read his article, and disagreed with an important point. Sowell had lunch with his friend's friend and they talked about it. The conversation still goes on to this day, now that they're married, and they still haven't resolved that particular issue.
Another anecdote: In the amazing TV drama "The Shield", a uniformed cop named Julian (black, gay, and fundamentalist Christian, how bout that?!) takes the pictures of young men suspected to be affiliated with gangs, and puts them up on the board. All cops do that, as a part of new policy. In one instance, he decided to try to talk to a kid who is about 10, because he wants to give him a chance. He doesn't want the new policy to ruin his life. That kid dismisses him. Later, in the evening, Julian arrives to that boy's house, telling him that he STILL didn't hang the picture anywhere, repeating to him again and again that he was a young black man in this type of neighborhood and grew up to make something of himself, by joining the police. The black child dismisses him once again, telling him where to go and what he should do when he gets there. As the kid turns his back to him Julian says: "I just wanted to know what to do with this picture." And as the kid leaves Julian silently adds "Now I know."
I'm writing this because the event I described in part 1 of this post is something I'm familliar with, with varying results throughout my life. I just think it's sometimes good to put things out there and reveal what's what to people you disagree with. Then whether they respond to you or walk away, you pretty much have a better grasp of where things stand. And something you held on to is released. I don't do it enough.
I said it's related to tengaged, because it happens a lot here too. People make friends, and are then forced to stab them in the back, or find out that THEY have been stabbed by their friends. People making alliances, sometimes more than one. People accusing other people (both rightly and falsely) of alliances. People accusing other people (both rightly and falsely) of negging them. People nominated over stuff they didn't do. People forced to choose between their alliances and people they genuinely like, etc.
I had some arguments with people here over these things and others. Such as the kind of atmosphere that different people are bringing into the "big brother house", etc. I had arguments with NoelSarah, with Snappy, with blazeofglory, with thegreatxl, to name a few. With those four I actually talked things over. It actually sucks because if you solve all of your problems, and run out of enemies, and become friendly and close to people who were strangers or enemies... YOU HAVE NOBODY TO NOMINATE. But still, it gives a nice feeling when people discuss these issues and put them to rest. The four people I mentioned are people I talked to and reconciled with. Which is great since in one of my games I go on public record and say F U to one of them. One of these four people happens to be 14 years old. That psudo-intellectual girl who humiliates people in public... not only does she says some things that sound like me when I was 17 (and was still more deep than her) but she's less deep and less sensitive and less nuanced than a fuckin 14 year old I met online.
Part 2 of this post involves you, the tengagians, and it's coming right up.
Hello. As some of you know, today is the birthday of two Grants. Myself, and a guy who died 96 years before I was born, the 18th president of the US, and Civil War General and victor, Ulysses S. Grant.
I did a little presentation about the guy in my class a few weeks ago, and said something about the KKK, and connected it to something in the Jerry Springer show. A girl in class decided to say that people who watch that show shouldn't be in university. This is a girl I had several arguments with in that particular class (class that focuses on the US presidents). I didn't mind that. We had many arguments but I still respected her. Some of her arguments were shallow. Her statement about people who watch Springer was shallow, but again, I didn't mind that. I DO mind that people deliberately humiliate others in public, people who have done nothing to them. Based on previous experience with that annoying turd, I find her to be a very annoying person, a very shallow person, a very snubbish, psuedo-intellectual person, and very rude and inconsiderate toward other humans.
Today, April 27, another student raised that "being allowed in a university" argument again from the ashes. So she explained herself by taking shots at me, saying that I probably watch Oprah too. Publically, of course. I answered by taking shots at her, telling her that I do not watch Oprah, but that the fact she reads the New York Times means she's not shallow at all. (for the record, she is the most shallow person I personally met in my life. I'm 28 today).
Since it's my birthday, I decided not to do my usual thing of grudgingly ignoring her, and that I should finally take a step and do something I feel like doing, just cos I feel like doing it! So I knew where to find her, and I walked up to her, and I told her what's on my mind. Being the stuckup bitch that she is, she didn't seem to take me too seriously. I told her I have no problem with our little arguments, I told her I have no problem with what she thinks of me though it is shallow (I told her it's my subjective opinion, trying to be gentle but still blunt. It's my birthday! Gimme a break, tengagians! I'm tired of being Mr. Nice Guy). I told her that while I think that, I still have no problem with her thinking that. What I DO have a problem with is public humiliation.
She, as I said, seemed very impatient. She told me several times she thinks I'm making too much of a big deal of this and taking it too personal. She then told me that she's in a hurry, and added "and you did the same with the New York Times comment, so I don't give a fuck!"
The conversation was in Hebrew, but the last 5-6 words were said in English, and are a direct quote. Sometimes non-English speakers use phrases in English because they make what they wanna say sound better, and much clearer. I assure you it was very helpful to me, because it made things very clear.
I left that conversation slightly more pissed than I was originally, but that's okay. At the end, when you're trying to be frank with someone, it helps, even if they don't respond the way you hoped. When you go up to someone with that amount of honesty, with your shields down, you do so in order to learn of where the other person stands, and also in order to teach them where YOU stand.
She knows where I stand. Now I know where she stands. She did make some valid points. Her comment about me taking it too personal was the most honest and frank thing she ever said to me that was not vicious or agressive, or stupid. Her comment about my own public humiliation of her was valid, cos it made me seem like a hypocrite. I don't think I am, but I would frankly LOVE to explain to her why I said what I said. If she has brains, she'll see where I'm coming from. All she has to do is ask to talk to me.
Her last comment, the one in English, made it very clear to me where she stands on the issue of having another private conversation. Now she learned some things about me, and I learned some things about her.
Like I said: part 2 of this post involves you, the tengagians, and it's coming right up.
Okay, so today at the university I volunteered to be a part of this really cool (I think) experiment. Here is how it goes:
The student doing the experiment got two students, me and another guy, into a room. We were to sit down, separated by a cardboard separator so we could not see what the other one was doing. Now here is what was to be done:
Each of us automatically wins 5 shekels (national Israeli coin, also known as NIS for "New Israeli Shekel"). Now, aside from that, we're going to gamble for even MORE free money. The exprimentor is to throw a die, one with 4 sides (triangular shaped), and each of us, independently, should circle our option, from 1 to 4, on a piece of paper. If one of us, or both of us, wins, the winner/s get 8 additional NIS.
Now here's the kicker: If one of us chooses to pay one shekel (remember, we already got 5 for free) the gambling reward is automatically raised to 16 NIS. But I can't know if the other guy pays and he can't know if I do. Now, think about it. It's the prisoner's dillemma. See, I'm thinking "hey, it's just one shekel, and it'll double the prize money!" But then I'm thinking "what if the other guy is thinking the same thing and will pay?" But then again... "what if he's thinking what I think and WON'T pay?" And on, and on. So I decide to do the following: I will do yet another gamble of my own. I will look at my watch, and if the minutes are even, I will pay. if the minutes are odd, I will not pay. It was 11:03am. I wanted to pay, but went with my decision. I did not pay.
I circled 1 on the 1-4 ballot. I marked "not paying" in the payment ballot.
The other guy chose to pay. So the prize money was raised to 16 NIS. The experimentor rolled the die. He got 4. We both lost. I got out of there 5 shekels richer. The other guy got out of there 4 shekels richer. He seemed to be somewhat annoyed or not caring. One of these cynical guys that every other moment gives you the vibe of "WHATEVER!" because he's so above everything. But I actually enjoyed. Forget the money. 5 shekels can get you a coke can these days. But it was just fun to play these mind games. Hey, that's why we're all here in tengaged, isn't it?
Okay, yesterday was April 20th. To some, it's the international pot day. To others, it's the birthday of a scumbag named Adolf Hitler. This year, incidentally, April 20th falls on the Hebrew calandere's eve of the Holocaust Rememberence day. April 21 is Holocaust Rememberence Day this year.
Now, it ties in with something I talked to people a lot in the past couple of years, and also in tengaged, in the past couple of days. Religion, and the moral argument for the existence of god.
See, all of us, atheists, agnostics, followers of Yahweh, followers of Christ, followers of Shiva, followers of Allah, followers of the flying spagetti monster, we all know that some things are objectively wrong. Just wrong. We're all moral. Yes, there are moral atheists. If anybody you know denies it, kick him in the balls!
Here's the problem: We're all human beings. All equal. Even those who disagree with you on issues of murder.
Take Adolf for example. Adolf is a human being that was born on this planet, lived on this planet, and was given (by god, nature, Satan, whatever) several decades on this planet. He had a set of his own moral values.
Then there is you. You're a human being that was born and is living on this planet. You're given a few decades. You feel you're superior in your morality to Adolf Hitler. Okay. But he feels he's superior to YOU. And you're just a human, and he's just a human. What makes your opinion of the holocaust, OBJECTIVELY BETTER, SUPERIOR, ABOVE that of Hitler? Under what standards to you judge him? Yours? Well, he judged members of my family under his standards, and I assume they ended enjoying a nice gas shower (I have no clue. My grandfather said they just stopped writing at some point).
So, if you're an atheist who believes in absolute morality (murder is wrong, stealing is wrong, cheating is wrong) under what standards do you make your judgement? And what makes it better than my judgement, or Bernie Madoff judgement, etc?
