It's a funny thing, killing people. The more you do it the more necessary you think it is to continue. But the more you do it the less you know why. It's the slipperiest of slippery slopes. That's why you don't want to get into that business in the first place.
Yet, so many walk with hands incarnadine.
The cult of killing has its own unique rules of miraged morality. If you're angry at someone and kill them you're a criminal. If you're angry at someone and order someone wearing a uniform to kill them, both you and the killer are heroes. That's how the state protects itself. But the veil of morality is wearing thinner and thinner. We just wanna kill in the end.
In the old days a high priest would come out and bless the sacrificing of the human. Today, we have lawyers issue memos to sanctify our deeds. God help anyone who believes there's a difference. But killing is like eating a food that never sates your appetite. The hunger still grows - and so must the futile killing. At some point, the desperation boils over.
That's when you get a "false flag" operation. False Flag is when you're itching to kill but can't find an enemy or your enemy doesn't justify being killed. So you attack yourself, blame the attack on your enemy of choice, and voilà you gots yourself a bona fide war on your hands! Of course, that also takes a corrupt and naive populace unwilling to pursue the truth. So far, the rulers we've put in place have a stunning track record of success with false flags, even after the truth comes out no one remembers the lie because everyone was in on it.
Not that I can call anybody out. I got swept up too. And I mean suckered royally. "Gosh! Really?? Wow!!" That about sums up my critical reaction to the line of bull fed me. I didn't want to see the lies nor does the world want to see lies. I'm paying the price for my stupidity now. The rest will pay later - and just as dearly.
I don't suppose it matters to retell the lies told me. I'd be speaking to those without ears. But as a matter of record it went something like this. Our dear President felt unloved. He set a record number of vacation days because like a sulking Nixon on the night of his reelection he knew his con would come to light sooner or later. How ironic the con has yet to be admitted - and as the sins daily mount at this point it never will be.
I can't tell you how much that fucks me.
I was such a clever boy!
Instead of Special Forces I was part of Special Services. Yeah, man, we were even "more elite". Moron me swallowed that even with skipping the grueling training Special Forces requires. Those guys selecting us were smart. They knew to select greedy schmucks looking for shortcuts to glory. We were to feign an attack on the White House. It made sense. There had been high profile stories recently of security breaches and also of the Secret Service engaging with hookers and drunk driving. What really got me was the White House official who showed up giving us this big rah-rah speech on the importance of our exercise. We 16 lap dogs licked up the drivel of self-importance we were handed.
It's really heady when everyone's telling you you're great for the first time in your life. These guys were pure masters of psychology; never a wrong tone or inflection. They played us with a delicious zeal. What a bunch of obvious rubes we must have been to them. I wanted to believe. I wanted to believe so badly I was doing something important, that I was somebody important and that the people I trusted were the moral icons they pretended to be. Well, fuck, I was O for fucking three on that.
What saved me - if I can use that term considering my situation - was the shred of doubt I let stay inside me. I hated it but I couldn't shake it. It was all too easy, too convenient, too neat a fit. I was giddy when picked and the rest was a cake walk laid out for me. Looking back, the self-satisfied smiles on the faces of those professional liars were clearly mocking us. Part of me knew it should have been harder. But that voice wasn't loud enough to ask to pull out of our elite squad. Besides, an even stronger voice (rightly) told me that would be a dangerous move to make - lethal, in fact.
The night of the operation my little voice was screaming. But damned if I was going to listen to it. In the end, it saved my life. When our "radical Islamic terror attack" on the White House began I instinctively separated from the group. "Life is here," said my voice. And from my hidden vantage point I watched the slaughter come from all directions. I also knew I was in deep, deep trouble. The area would be sealed off and searched allegedly for precautionary reasons but the real reason being they would count only 15 bodies and then come hunting for my idiot ass with a vengeance.
I had the advantage of them having exposed themselves during the attack. Not taking it seriously yet the commander of the assassins sent out lone searchers in a loud public display of concern for security. I knew my only window was in this time before the bodies were counted. I had to trust myself as never before. No time for my usual self-doubt or self-pity. You got in you, man! Use it! So I clubbed the searcher who passed by me, dragged him into the bushes and swapped gear.
I bluffed my way out, ordering some ignorant underlings around as needed (the professional liars had taught me something after all) as I raced to "secure" the grounds. I had guessed Colonel Sanders (real name) who'd been our leader was in fact our betrayer too. I threw his name around as I commandeered a car and exited the ever tightening lock down. I drove an hour north towards Baltimore careful never to take a main road. I parked the car leaving the keys in it hoping someone would steal it even with the government tags on it. Then I started walking, knowing I could never go back to my life again.
The "raid" was a stunning success. Approval ratings for the President and his hardline harping on the perils of tolerating evildoers soared to all time highs. "These are men who will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. Life and liberty mean nothing to them compared to their agenda of ultimate control and power. They must be destroyed if we are to preserve our way of life." Watching that speech on TV I became both the most wanted and unwanted man in the country. My little voice was speaking again, telling me things were about to get much, much worse. It was right.