Tag: war

Military Dreams Again

The dreams flowed together. All were of a military sort but had nothing to do with my military career.

The first found me with others outside, beside parked cars outside of apartment and business complexes. My wife was with me and the others. All the folk were dream acquaintances, no one from real life.

My wife said with alarm, “I just heard that they’re going to set off a nuke.”

Disbelief coursed around the group. Several said, “They wouldn’t.”

A muted boom froze us. Turning like one being, we looked across and over trees. A bright white light flashed.

“They did it,” someone said, a comment echoed by others.

“We’d better get away,” people said, “get to shelter. Run, hurry.”

The rest ran. I stayed by a car. I wanted to see what would happen to me when the nuke’s energy struck. Seeing it coming as a red light, I closed my eyes and ducked my head, then flattened against the car’s side. Red radiation painted my skin. As I rose, looking at my skin, I thought, I’ve made a mistake. I shouldn’t have done that.

But it was done.

Next, I was with an army in place outside. We were all in woody camo gear. Thin, steady drizzle dampened our spirits, clothing and equipment. Across the valley was a like enemy encampment. We were waiting for them to attack.

The waiting was so tedious. Boredom overtook me. And I was cold, wet, and underdressed. From this, I decided to sneak away to get a outerwear. With continuing glances to ensure I wasn’t observed but also that the attack wasn’t imminent, I stole away from the woodsy front. Behind it was a village with widely spaced dwellings. Free of tension, relaxed, it was a wholly different state. I found the cottage where I’d been staying, went in and found my gear. After changing, I added the coat and headed back out.

Outside, I saw our commanders talking, heads down, close together, strolling. I slipped in behind them, following them, to see what I could learn. Eventually, they went to a place where a whiteboard had a map drawn on it. They wrote on it. Continuing to spy, I realized that the two men were in love with one another but wouldn’t address their relationship, and that was paralyzing their abilities to think, plan, and lead. Dismayed, I headed back to the front.

Back there, I settled back in. Nothing had changed. I stayed for a while, watching, drizzle falling, chill air kissing me, until someone came by and told me I was relieved so I can sleep and eat. Fully dressed, I settled into a bed. Someone else was on my left side. As I slept, others would join me and I’d wake up. Typically a woman, they would curl up against me for warmth, slept for a time, and then leave. Waking to return to duty, I knew that had happened nineteen times. One had been my sister, who came by, laughing, confessing that she’d heard I was warm and comforting.

I returned to duty. Looking through the drizzle across the valley, I saw a smiling white woman with frizzy brown hair and glasses appear. The enemy commander, I knew. I passed the word that she was there and warned others to be ready because she was working her way down through her troops, and I thought they might be preparing to launch their attack. We got ready to fight but the commander went down and disappeared from sight.

Suspecting subterfuge, I began watching our flanks. In a moment, I saw her appear, coming to us from the left. “There she is,” I told the rest, rising to go and confront her. As I went out, though, she transformed into another person who looked almost the same.

Surprise surmounted me. Had I been wrong, or was this a trick? I divided my time between watching her and surveilling the enemy across the valley, waiting for something to happen.

Dream end.

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The Invader Dream

Last night’s dream was like a summer blockbuster movie. Long thriller, lots of plot and action. Some highlights are offered.

To start, a civil war was breaking out. A young man, I was part of a large gang itching to go against the enemy, roaming a city’s residential area. We lacked weapons and training, though, except for the baseball bats, hammers, knives, and other weapony things we managed to scrap up. As we walked, cocky as hell, issuing ballsy statements about who we were and what we were going to achieve, we looked for a enemy gang we’d heard was in the area, we started hearing reports from other people that space invaders — aliens — had landed and were conquering the world.

We discussed this dubiously, reckoning this was world class bullshit being spread. But as we walked, I stared left. There, I saw five black ships. Each was a square, with squared off stubby wings. I’d never seen anything like that. More, the five traveled in perfect spacing, revolving like they were part of a wheel. I saw them for just a few seconds before the horizon hid them.

Pointing, I shared with the rest what I’d witnessed. Disturbed silence took over the group. Others peaked around, looking for the things I’d described. Seeing them again, I pointed, shouting, “There. There they are.”

There were more this time, but the design and behavior was the same as before, and everyone saw them. Now we started taking the reports of invaders from space more seriously. Searching for more news about it, our focus changed to repealing the beings killing humans and trying to take over our planet.

Early fall slipped over late summer. We’d gained some weapons. I carried an automatic rifle. We were moving silently through a mostly abandoned neighborhood. People lived there not long before, because all the lawns were green and trimmed. We ran down a street past dead animals. The invaders were brutal killers. I called to others, telling them not to look at the dead cats, dogs, and birds littering the area.

A large house was selected as a refuge. Set back from the road, it had an enormous lawn. That would give us distance from the street. The aliens always came down the streets. Long legged, with thick thighs and calves and big feet, they looked like Sasquatch. Hard to take them seriously as advanced conquerors from space.

After getting our group into the house, I helped oversee getting people settled in the large, dark basement. We warned everyone, stay quiet. Rest and eat. Those of us armed would stay up on the ground level with our weapons, ready to repel the invaders if the house was found. I decided I would go outside to check the situation. Unbeknownst to me, others with weapons followed me.

A family came running around another house’s corner. Obviously frightened and panicked, I grasped that the aliens were after them. They barely spoke English. I conveyed to them to go into the house and go downstairs and stay quiet. Seeing one of the others behind me, I ordered them to take the newcomers to the house and settle them in the basement. As they went on, I faced the street, preparing to approach it to see if aliens were coming.

Dusk was coming. As I crept forward, an alien rushed around the corner. I dove to one side and rolled into hiding. Gunshots broke the silence behind me as one of my comrades shot the alien. It fell, dead.

Horrible mistake, I knew. We didn’t have the armaments or people to take on the aliens. I knew from experience that other aliens would come looking for the source of the shooting and to see what happened to their member. “Run,” I hissed at the rest. “Hide. Don’t go to the house.”

Worried about drawing attention from the house where the rest hid, I took off left behind a row of houses. Hit and run, I told myself, hit and run. I knew that would only work so long because the aliens weren’t fools.

Three other gang members were behind me. That surprised me but I set up two to hurry ahead and hide, expounding to them that we needed to move fast, never stay in one place, emphasizing hit and run, hit and run. The remaining member and I would do the hit and run thing for several hours. The aliens would realize what’s going on, and try to ambush us by setting up at another house ahead of where we were going. That’s why my pair of friends would already be waiting to shoot the aliens. Then we’d all take off.

With the plan set in motion, my buddy and I conducted breathtaking, frightening hit and run raids, running out to the street, shooting an alien, running back behind the house, hiding in bushes, shooting whoever came back to investigate, and then running to the next house to repeat the whole thing.

The sun was setting. It was growing colder, darker. I worried about ammo.

As expected, the aliens figured out what I was doing and tried to ambush me. My friends stepped out behind the two hulking aliens. I shouted, “Shoot them, shoot them.” My friends stood, rifles raised, frozen and gawking.

The aliens came after me. They always killed by some kind of injection. Close proximity was needed. They were strangely fast. I knew this but let them rush me. As they did, I threw myself to one side, firing while I did, managing to kill both.

Profusely sweating, breathing hard, I berated the two who’d failed to act and then ran to the street. No more aliens were in sight. Telling the rest to come with me, I led them back toward the house where the rest hid, watching my back as I went, angry that the others had failed when the moment came. I wondered then who I could trust.

I knew, too, aliens would be coming to the area to investigate the others’ deaths. We would need to move again. Grim-faced, I took in the last red rays given off by the setting sun and prepared myself for what needed to be done.

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Monday’s Theme Music

5/29/2023

Monday. Memorial Day in the US.

Another pause to honor the military who died in one of our wars.

How each individual arrived in military service begins in a personalized way, and is shaped by their heritage and disposition, education and religion. Propaganda drove people, as did politics and the norms of the day. What it meant to be a man. What freedom and independence means, the rights of individuals and the rights of nations. Some lacked choice; their number was called in a draft. Too many times as lights came on in the aftermath, lies were discovered as well as crimes against humanity. Sometimes those crimes were never prosecuted. Apologies came later.

War is simple — kill more of the rest and undermine their war-making abilities — and complex. Besides tales of atrocities, amazing stories of sacrifice and courage are revealed. Some become legendary, immortalized in books, movies, statues. Others become a name on a plaque. The most fortunate come back, intact as possible.

I served for over twenty years, a kid who walked in on his own, signed up and stayed. What I’ll say of my military brothers and sisters was the same as I’d say for most gatherings. There were some amazing men and women, many average people, a few troubled ones, and some you tried avoiding because they weren’t going do abide by any law or moral code the rest of us used.

Multiple songs about war, the military, and all the matters which those terms encumber came up in the morning mental music stream. The one which stayed with me is “One Tin Soldier” from 1969. Gaining fame from its use in the movie Billy Jack, the song is two stories; one about a war of aggression by one kingdom against another that was fueled by jealousy and envy. The other story being told is about rationalizing bending morality and your code to achieve whatever goal is set.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor
Go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of heaven
You could justify it in the end

There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgment day
On the bloody morning after
One tin soldier rides away

h/t to lyrics.com

Stay pos. My coffee is here. Release the hounds. Time to chase another day.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

The wind of change is blowing outside my window. It’s probably just circulation caused by atmospheric pressures.

It’s Saturday, if you’re still keeping tabs, February 4, 2023. Ashlandia’s first sun viewing came around 7:21 this morning. Hard to pinpoint it with the obfuscating clouds gathering. Looks like rain but the air temp is a comfy 48 F with a high of 54 F being dealt to us. The world’s inevitable turning will bring sunset to us at 5:29 this evening.

The matter of change is still on my mind after a series of fascinating dreams. Well, they fascinated me. Anyway, Bob Dylan is singing in the morning mental music stream but so is Buffalo Springfield. The latter’s song is “For What It’s Worth”. Written back in the mid-sixties in response to riots in Los Angeles, CA, it’s often used as an anti-war song. But the song was about hippies and change, with the old guard deciding to crack down. A curfew was established. Any child under the age of 21 was not allowed out in that area of rioting.

There’s a lot to unload from all those basics. First on my mind was that those under 21 were restricted, not being treated as adults, in a time when eighteen-year-olds were being drafted for Vietnam. Seems like a bit of hypocrisy, doesn’t it? That sort of hypocrisy still circulates, with people in the military not authorized to buy alcohol in some states because they’re too young. Not too young to be armed and trained to kill and defend everyone else, but certainly too young to buy alcohol. Likewise, young women in some states can be raped and forced to give birth. They’re too young to marry and age is often cited as a reason for denying young people choices and rights, and yet, these girls are expected to have children.

Today’s theme music gravitates toward more recent events, the collapse of the USSR. “Wing of Change” by the Scorpions was written in response to what they were witnessing. Some thought the Berlin Wall would never come down, and that the United States and Soviet Union would locked in a nuclear standoff until one of them pulled the trigger. Now here we are, thirty years later, wondering if Russia, born from the rubble of the USSR, will be the nation to launch nukes.

Change is fascinating. It doesn’t follow neat lines and can often feel chaotic. Some people, whether it’s drugs, abortion rights, or using nukes and gun rights, view life and change through a tremendously narrow lens. Little change is welcomed in their world.

Anyway, that’s the song which The Neurons introduced as today’s theme music, “Wind of Change” by the Scorpions from 1991 to observe the fall of the U.S.S.R. and the ‘Iron Curtain’. Following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the band changed their lyrics in concert.

“To sing ‘Wind of Change’ as we have always sung it, that’s not something I could imagine any more,” vocalist Klaus Meine told Die Zeit. “It simply isn’t right to romanticize Russia.”

When performing “Wind Of Change” during Scorpions’ 2022 tour, Meine sings:

Now listen to my heart
It says Ukraine
Waiting for the wind to change

Stay positive and make the most of your Saturday. I’m beginning with coffee, black, fresh, and hot. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Warmish and foggy, kind of cool, too. It’s Christmas day in southern Oregon.

Dawn dashed in under the fog’s cover at 7:38 in the morning. I fed the cats and we prepared food to take to our friend’s house for Christmas brunch. Sipping coffee, I looked out the kitchen window. The fog was hurrying away. Sunshine struck the valley’s southern edge, lighting the trees and the blue sky.

I thought about all the matters which have gone well for me and pushed that aside. Homelessness plagues our small town. All those people were out there, looking for places to get warm, to be safe, to rest their bones and minds. I helped a few this week but it never feels like enough. Never. It’s a pattern encountered across the nation, one of the most powerful societies the world has ever seen.

I thought about the misery of people in other states hanging on as snow and ice storms undercut their infrastructures and cut their power. I thought about the military forces battling for arcane logic in Ukraine and the people trying to help one another to stay alive there. Then I thought about all the wealth hung onto by our world’s most fortunate families, individuals, corporations, wondering if they’re the most deserving, and how the sperm lottery affects our existences. I’m flattened often by stories of the wealthy do the most that they can to stay wealthy and make more money. Work harder, others are told. It’s just that easy.

Just Christmas reflections, little different than my recurring daily thoughts. Not original, but worn and tired.

My music today has nothing to do with the holidays. The song came out of dreams and efforts, weariness but hope. Called, “Turn It On Again”, the song is by Genesis. Released in 1980, the song is about a man whose friends are the people on TV.

Have a merry one. Happy holidays to you, whatever your flavor of seasonal celebrating as the common era year slides to an end. Hope you’re warm and safe, with a belly full of food.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

We’ve been plopped into a Monday, in a very merry month of May, on a day — 23 — in a year — 2022. For most of us, it feels about the same as the day before, except, you know, the ones who lost something or someone the day before, or the ones whose crimes were revealed, whose cheating was exposed. Also different for those who awoke to gunfire and explosions.

Here in Ashland, the sunrise came at 5:43 and sunset will take place in our valley at 8:33 PM. It’s 57 F and a high of 77 is anticipated. Clouds? Yes, we have no clouds. The cats are happy. This is floof weather.

The morning neurons didn’t drop a song into my morning mental music stream. I went looking for one. I’d met to do this before, but one thing led to another, and the next thing that I knew, a few weeks had shot by underfoot. Remembering today, I sought out “Hey, Hey, Rise Up” by Pink Floyd. Released in 2022, it’s base on the Ukrainian anthem, “Oh, the Red Viburnum in the Meadow“, and features the Ukrainian singer Andriy Khlyvnyuk. David Gilmour wrote the song to support Ukraine and its people as they fight against the Russian invasion.

Stay positive, test negative, and so on. Rise up, vote, make a difference. Help set us on a better path, one where equality, freedom, and rights are respected. And yes, I’m pro-choice: her body, her choice. Not my business.

Forward, he cried from the rear. Forward. Now, I’m off for coffee. Can’t move forward without my coffee. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Time is suddenly slowed for me. Like I was on Chronos Highway, speeding along, making, um, good time, when suddenly everything slowed down. Wonder how many others are feeling it?

Today is Friday, May 20, 2022. Sunrise spidered in through leafy boughs at 5:45 this morning. Sol will skedaddle from these environs at 8:30 PM.

It’s a clear sky, empty of clouds, but haziness hovers on the western horizon. Reflecting that clear sky, temperatures dropped to 35 F last night and sit at 42 now. We expect a high of 68 F. The cats are out digging the sunshine. I told them, “Don’t you put holes in the sunshine.” They were like WTF you talkin’ ’bout?

The neurons put nothing into the morning mental music stream. First no dreams are remembered, and then the neurons abandon their musical motif. Interesting Friday. Well, I lie a bit. The neurons did have “Time Is On My Side” sliding around the music stream for about seventeen seconds. I sat and wondered, what song should I put out there today? As I did, I came across a video of Tears for Fear playing “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” in 2022. With the primary elections in full swing in the U.S., Ukraine trying to fend off Russia, Putin threatening Finland and Sweden, Turkey saying “Nyet” to NATO, the GOP trying to undo established precedent and foster election corruption, and billionaires attempting to become trillionaires, I thought, “Why that’s a perfect song for this age and time, innit?”

Sure, the neurons said, yawning. Go for it. Which I did.

Regardless of the little neurons’ mood, I’m going for coffee. Care to come? Here’s the music while you decide. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Today finds us at the juxtaposition of winter and spring and the week called Thursday, April 14, 2022. Snow on the mountains is a hopeful sign for us in our drought-struck state while the buds and flowers remind us of spring’s promise of life and growth.

Sunrise was a solid showing of light and warmth at 6:32 AM. Showers have drifted away, the clouds moving on for the moment, muttering about, “maybe coming back later,” perhaps after they go off to chill and have something to eat or drink, maybe even coffee. Although just 41 F right now, the sun’s presence makes it feel warmer to me. A 44-degree high is all they say we can hope for before sundown at 7:51 PM.

Reading the news, I can’t stop the conclusion from jumping into my head that Putin is a terrorist. “Don’t you dare join NATO, or I will nuke you,” he metaphorically shouts in his cold, threatening tone. Isn’t that the way of war, though, “don’t do that or we’ll do this,” pressing an escalation of tension with fear and the threat of violence. If not a terrorist, he’s certainly a bully. I know, the U.S. has its own version of bully tactics, too. At least we haven’t overtly attacked another nation recently.

The neurons have planted “My Sweet Lord” by George Harrison in the morning mental music stream. Released when I was fourteen, its slide guitar, rhythms, and lyrics mesmerized me. Yes, I know of the later copyright infringement action and the obvious connection between “He’s So Fine” and “My Sweet Lord”. While “He’s So Fine” is an excellent song, its lyrics and slide work didn’t have me sitting there listening again and again.

Stay positive, test negative, drink coffee, wear a mask as or when needed, and get the jabs as, when, etc. Sorry about the coffee bit; it just jumped in there because it’s that time. Not trying to influence you or anything, no, about the promise of what that hot, dark beverage can do for the body and soul, no, not at all.

Here’s the music. Look – sunshine! Hey, it’s raining. Cheers

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