What the dead had no speech for, when living,
They can tell you, being dead: the communication
Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond
the language of he living.
T. S. Eliot
Four Quarters. "Little Gidding"
A SOLDIER'S FUNERAL
. . . Fowler's eulogy was moving, the deceased had suffered a great wrong, a wrongful and untimely death had occurred, and I was feeling like crap again. (NOTE: JUST HACKED, STOLEN, 1:05 PM, 4/3/2018 . . . TRYING TO MAKE IT LOOK, LIKE ONE OF THE SIB BITCHES, IS WRITING THIS! UNWORTHY TO LICK THE DIRT OFF MY SHOES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOW MESSING WITH THE CURSOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOT ALLOWING ME TO PLACE IT AND CONTINUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).
Colonel Fowler did not mention specifically how she died, but did say, "the battlefield, in modern military jargon, is described as a hostile environment, which it most certainly is. and if you expand the meaning of battlefield to include any place where any soldier is standing and serving, then, we can truthfully say that Ann died in battle." He looked out over the crowd and concluded, "And it is only proper and fitting that we remember her not as a victim, but as a good soldier who died doing her duty." He looked at the casket and said, "Ann that is how we'll remember you." Colonel Fowler came down from the lectern, stopped at the casket, saluted, then took his seat. . . .
. . . Likewise, the honorary pallbearers, who would normally be high-ranking associates of the general or close personal friends of the deceased, were obviously chosen for their clean hands; they were, in fact, all female officers, including the general's other aid (HACKED AGAIN, 1:18 PM) Captain Bollinger. an all-female contingent (HACKED) of honorary pallbearers seemed appropriate on the surface of it, but for those who understood why senior male officers had been excluded, it seemed that the general had finally gotten his way in keeping his daughter's intimates away from her. . . . But if all is fair in love and war, let me tell you, anything goes in a homicide investigation.
. . . This woman fascinates me, as I'm sure she fascinated you and others. I need to see her every once in a while. It helps." . . . "Psychology is a soft weapon--it's not a 155mm artillery round, but you can take out more enemy battalions with leaflets and radio broadcasts than with high explosives. You don't have to kill people if you can get them to surrender to your will. It's a lot mnore satisfying to see an enemy soldier running toward you with his hands on his head, dropping to his knees at your feet, than it is killing him." . . . "She had a certain presence, didn't seh, Bill? One of those people who keep your attention, visually, verbally, and mentally. I wish I'd known her."
He took a deep breath and replied, "She was . . . evil." Evil? "Yes . . . she was . . . she was one of those women . . . you don't see many like that . . . a woman who everyone loves, a woman who seems clean and wholesome and sweet . . . but who has everyone fooled. She really didn't care about anyone or anything. I mean, she seemed like the girl next door on one level--the kind of girl most men want, but her mind was completely sick." . . .
Basically, Bill Kent was drawing up a moral indictment, the way the witch-hunters did three hundred years ago. She was evil, she possessed men's minds, bodies, and souls, she cast spells, she pretended to worship God and tend to her labors by day, but consorted with dark forces at night. He said, "You can see by those videotapes how charming and nice she could be around men, but just read those diary pages--just read that stuff, and you can see what she was really like. I told you she was into Nietzsche--Man and Superman, the Antichrist, and all that sick crap." . . . "I mean, she would go into men's offices at night and perform sexual acts with them, then, the nixt day barely acknowledge they were alive." . . . When a murder suspect speaks badly of the deceased, he's either not the murderer, or he's telling you why he did it.
. . . You may beat the murder charge, but you should plan on at least fifteen years in Leavenworth for gross dereliction of duty, misconduct, concealing the facts of a crime, sodomy, rape and other violations of the punitive articles contained in the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Kent fought back tears and tried to sound angry. He shouted, "She did deserve it! She was a bitch, a fucking whore, she ruined my life and my marriage." . . . Do what an officer and gentleman would do. . . .
. . . The people here at Fort Hadley, were no different from, no better or worse than, people I'd seen at a hundred other posts and installations around eh world. but Ann Campbell was most certainly different, and I try to imagine myself, in conversation with her when she was alive, if, for instance, I'd been assigned to investigate what was going on here at Fort Hadley. I think I would have recognized that I was not in the presence of a simple seductress, but in the presence of a unique, forceful, and driven personality. I think, too, that I could have shown her that whatever hurts other people does not make her stronger, if only increases the misery quotient for everyone.
I don't think I would have wound up like Bill Kent, but I don't discount the possibility, and, therefore, I'm not judging Kent. Kent judged himself, looked at what he had become, was frightened to discover that another personality lurked inside his neat, orderly mind, and he blew it out.
"Did you solve the case?"
"Yes."
"Who did it?"
"Everybody."
. . . We serve to the best of our ability, and if we become incapable of serving, or become redundant, then, we leave, or, if we're dense, we're asked to leave. No hard feelings. The mission comes first, and everyone and everything are subordinate to the mission. Says so in the manual. . . . "Thanks for everything, good job, we won, please turn out the lights when you leave."
"Cryin' on the inside. Lots of fellas there cryin' on the inside. Hey did you get rid of the computer stuff?"
"I burned the disk myself."
"Yeah? None of that shit floatin' around, is there?"
"No. Everyone is clean again."
. . . Likewise, the honorary pallbearers, who would normally be high-ranking associates of the general or close personal friends of the deceased, were obviously chosen for their clean hands; they were, in fact, all female officers, including the general's other aid (HACKED AGAIN, 1:18 PM) Captain Bollinger. an all-female contingent (HACKED) of honorary pallbearers seemed appropriate on the surface of it, but for those who understood why senior male officers had been excluded, it seemed that the general had finally gotten his way in keeping his daughter's intimates away from her. . . . But if all is fair in love and war, let me tell you, anything goes in a homicide investigation.
. . . This woman fascinates me, as I'm sure she fascinated you and others. I need to see her every once in a while. It helps." . . . "Psychology is a soft weapon--it's not a 155mm artillery round, but you can take out more enemy battalions with leaflets and radio broadcasts than with high explosives. You don't have to kill people if you can get them to surrender to your will. It's a lot mnore satisfying to see an enemy soldier running toward you with his hands on his head, dropping to his knees at your feet, than it is killing him." . . . "She had a certain presence, didn't seh, Bill? One of those people who keep your attention, visually, verbally, and mentally. I wish I'd known her."
He took a deep breath and replied, "She was . . . evil." Evil? "Yes . . . she was . . . she was one of those women . . . you don't see many like that . . . a woman who everyone loves, a woman who seems clean and wholesome and sweet . . . but who has everyone fooled. She really didn't care about anyone or anything. I mean, she seemed like the girl next door on one level--the kind of girl most men want, but her mind was completely sick." . . .
Basically, Bill Kent was drawing up a moral indictment, the way the witch-hunters did three hundred years ago. She was evil, she possessed men's minds, bodies, and souls, she cast spells, she pretended to worship God and tend to her labors by day, but consorted with dark forces at night. He said, "You can see by those videotapes how charming and nice she could be around men, but just read those diary pages--just read that stuff, and you can see what she was really like. I told you she was into Nietzsche--Man and Superman, the Antichrist, and all that sick crap." . . . "I mean, she would go into men's offices at night and perform sexual acts with them, then, the nixt day barely acknowledge they were alive." . . . When a murder suspect speaks badly of the deceased, he's either not the murderer, or he's telling you why he did it.
. . . You may beat the murder charge, but you should plan on at least fifteen years in Leavenworth for gross dereliction of duty, misconduct, concealing the facts of a crime, sodomy, rape and other violations of the punitive articles contained in the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Kent fought back tears and tried to sound angry. He shouted, "She did deserve it! She was a bitch, a fucking whore, she ruined my life and my marriage." . . . Do what an officer and gentleman would do. . . .
. . . The people here at Fort Hadley, were no different from, no better or worse than, people I'd seen at a hundred other posts and installations around eh world. but Ann Campbell was most certainly different, and I try to imagine myself, in conversation with her when she was alive, if, for instance, I'd been assigned to investigate what was going on here at Fort Hadley. I think I would have recognized that I was not in the presence of a simple seductress, but in the presence of a unique, forceful, and driven personality. I think, too, that I could have shown her that whatever hurts other people does not make her stronger, if only increases the misery quotient for everyone.
I don't think I would have wound up like Bill Kent, but I don't discount the possibility, and, therefore, I'm not judging Kent. Kent judged himself, looked at what he had become, was frightened to discover that another personality lurked inside his neat, orderly mind, and he blew it out.
"Did you solve the case?"
"Yes."
"Who did it?"
"Everybody."
. . . We serve to the best of our ability, and if we become incapable of serving, or become redundant, then, we leave, or, if we're dense, we're asked to leave. No hard feelings. The mission comes first, and everyone and everything are subordinate to the mission. Says so in the manual. . . . "Thanks for everything, good job, we won, please turn out the lights when you leave."
"Cryin' on the inside. Lots of fellas there cryin' on the inside. Hey did you get rid of the computer stuff?"
"I burned the disk myself."
"Yeah? None of that shit floatin' around, is there?"
"No. Everyone is clean again."
VIBE ALL . . . TO HER, THEY WERE NOTHING MORE THAN HER VIBRATOR WAS TO HER.
BLUE BLOODS: HARVARD. YALE. PRINCETON. COLUMBIA VS. BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY
BLUE BLOODS: HARVARD. YALE. PRINCETON. COLUMBIA VS. BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY
WOMAN CONTROL 70% OF THE WORLD'S WEALTH . . . THEY CONTROL 100% OF THE PUSSY!
SAVE A COWBOY. RIDE A HORSE!
LOL.
SAVE A COWBOY. RIDE A HORSE!
LOL.