matrixmann: (Black suits comin')
"Which one of your oaths is the one more important to you?"
"Of course that oath to protect civil life from harm!"
"Then why don't you rebel against your superior when he just orders you to harm the people you swore to protect?!"
matrixmann: (Yuber Suikoden I)
"The land of the free never really cared about freedom. Not its politicians, not its oligarchs, not the people that really decide over the course of the country. It worked together with Nazis barely that they've fled from Europe just to bring down the Soviet Union because they were its political enemies. The United States - a Jew-friendly place? Open your eyes, by the time the Germans killed them by the masses in their concentration camps, nobody liked them anywhere either. Henry Ford was an anti-Semite, Disney was an anti-Semite - nobody thought about correcting their views or putting them to jail for it. Ford even had good trade relations with the Third Reich as long as it was possible. IBM delivered punch card machines for the bureaucratic administration of the concentration camps. If the United States really would have been so much against it, they had ordered those key technologies to be stopped to be delivered to the Nazis before they made the declaration of war. It would have just been a blow to them. Key technologies are always subject to the final OK of the state. If it doesn't happen, the administration doesn't want it. And the trail keeps continuing until the present. Fascists and butchers? As long as they're political enemies of an enemy of the states, they don't see reason why not making them their tool for a power change or to simply destroy the most promising competitor beside them.
One can't even tell how long in time this behavior goes back. It's been so much inherent to its system, it's like it goes back to the very early days - since the US was able to move on the international political parquet."
matrixmann: (Thinking)
It's tough of a deal to watch comrades dying away, not being able to treat their wounds, to soothe their anger and hate, and to stop them from committing actions which prove to be senseless in the end...
matrixmann: (Waiting for command)
Your teachers are bought,
your ideals indoctrinated,
the ones you worship - fake as hell!
And not even those ones who kill themselves
sometimes are what you think they are.

Be it conservative
or be it progressive,
the system corrupted all of it,
you're being guided,
not led into the future!
Someone makes sure
you do not get in his way.

Paroles of the past do not work in the present.
They try to make you believe so to keep your mind caged.
To make you avoid finding a new trick. Finding a new rule.
Use your own mind!
Question yourself!
Find out by sorting out the facts from the fairy tales!

And throw away your old idols!
Kill your old idols!
Get some which appear authentic!
University and advocate groups are for control.
Real humans make mistakes. -
And they rage too much.

Special

14 June 2016 08:42 am
matrixmann: (Thinking)
Many years ago, it was a craze to want to create a bloodbath at your school.
Today, you pledge allegiance to another group to go out killing lots of people.
Ask somebody who survived that first time and he'll tell you: "We had this all before. You're nothing special."
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
A batch of foreign and resident nations now interfere into the matters of the Middle East and act like too many cooks that spoil the broth...
matrixmann: (Yuber Suikoden I)
New mandates for interventions in Africa and the Middle East - since hundreds of years these areas have seen nothing else than European big nations coming into their countries, trying to tell them what to do, cheating them with peanuts, and exploiting from them the assets that they want. Nothing has changed of that.
And you keep wondering why there is so much hate against the European nations in these areas? Why militant groups form that crave for nothing else than the beheading of these occupiers?
Or why people keep running away from there?
Development policy is not making a contract with a local tribal chief and supporting police training for building fences and borders - it means making that people can acquire their piece of the cake down there and that they can lead a decent life.
Every kind of military mission that does not have the goal to make this possible is doomed to fail sooner or later. So are politics which don't make this a particular goal of their activities.
Europe as well as the other foreign Western nations are condemned to be violently chased out of these areas as long as they don't get this and still regard every mission of theirs as small-contingent-mission that is soon to be ended without further notice.
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
In the eye to achieve the world politics of their leaders, German armed forces are a joke. Undersupplied in finances, equipment, personnel and moral to know what you do and why and agreeing with it, you can see why they can't do more than training missions for other armed forces anymore.
Leading a war and "defending German trade routes", you can't do this with a host which struggles to fight recruits, which can only lure them by astronomic payments and which is not even able to take care of the basic education of the recruits due to periodic waves of budget cuts and failed reforms.
Let alone guns which overheat easily during use.
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
Like a never-ending sea of zombies they come, running for the fence, pounding at the fence, crossing barbed wire, and overcoming every obstacle that is put on their way between them and their goal.
Those ones considering themselves to be "living" - their only way to fight back is run. Shooting is no option as there's not enough ammunition and not enough guns to find.
Civilization is put once again to the test if they can survive or not...

War

27 August 2015 09:04 am
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
Trying to steal apples from a garden's tree while you don't know if someone is waiting inside the contiguous house with a shotgun loaded for vermin like you.
People ripping out culms of grass and catching birds because they're hungry.
Being raided while you only try to take a shit or a piss and getting raped in between.
Collecting half-way starved skeletons from a trench which look dirtier than pigs.
Sitting in the same space for days and weeks and hearing and feeling the projectiles roaring around your heads, and seeing they exist when your neighbor suddenly falls on his back with a bleeding hole in his head.
Getting locked in a building and suddenly you see fire.
Covering your body with a corpse because it's the only way of preventing freezing to death.
Developing hardness to take the smells, to take the views, and not puke every time.
Someone sacrificing his life so that others can live on.
Running away with your whole entourage to find a place where it's safe and crossing half of the world meanwhile.
Hiding in ships and trucks and hoping you don't run out of air before this thing arrives in a significant place.
Fearing to take a shower because it could be showering with toxic gas.
Being denounced, degraded, kicked, punched and slashed to a half-way death and dragged through the town.
Being picked on, pissed on, hanged on a lamppost because a troop coming from the local pub thinks so.
...This is war.

Unless the richest of the rich, the highest of society, get to know what war is like they are never going to refrain from committing it. Not unless there's no bunker to hide in, there's no safe island to flee to, there are also no stocks to feed on and not unless there's no medication and no medical treatment to get.
Not unless their war comes to them.

Arming

9 March 2015 11:40 am
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
EU army - nice idea, while they're all already so much one when it comes down to their households and their economy crisis management politics.
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
When it's already settled that I sent 600 of my men near a war zone to train the soldiers of one of the party fighting, hasn't the destiny of the truce agreed by these two and other parties already been set? Or what's coming after the truce has expired?
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
Type: Short story
Rating: 18+
Disclaimer: All original content. All fictional.


Running water circles around my fading skin. It flows through my hair, cooling me with waves that pulsate through the bearing mass. My mouth and my lungs do not resist to take it inside, making it gain control of my whole inner life.
It's like I've become a fish. I can survive down here, the lake gives me everything I need. And the algas and bacteria keep me clean of pollution.
Some time ago, I used to walk under the sun, but now it's nothing that I need anymore.
Either if it's dark or light, my face won't change. Even better I stay in the dark because the sun would burn it. The water won't preserve it either, because it can't stop the process of rot, but sun and high temperature will make it even go faster.
There's nothing I can do anymore - but at least I won't be alone.
Comrade M. lies next to me, his face touches my knee, and S. and E., who fought with us, don't lie far away. There are lots of others whose names I don't know and which brigade they fought in, but I guess, as we're in the same boat, we will make a good family.
Shame that we have no women here, but for sure, the comrades from the outside sooner or later will take care of it.
...My wound still aches and I think I have already seen a worm come through it.
Assault rifle fire. Pierced me a few times, I dropped immediately, and not a second later I could feel the blood running out of me.
Everything turns numb when you die, like when your arm or leg is falling asleep.
Perhaps this was due to losing my life-juice all over the place, but the same way, I imagine it happens anyway, also when you die from natural causes. It only happens a bit slower.
S. and E. didn't get it that well as me, they died in grenade launcher fire. It burned the whole of their faces and partly even their uniform was flared off their chests, which were charred to coal as well.
I can still hear their screams, even though I know they're alright now.
Must have been a terrible way to die; the street didn't look like it was there to drive on. The vehicle they occupied was destroyed as well.
I wonder what happened to the few of us who could get out alive. Did they run back to the base or were they captured? Did they hide in the bush and managed to shoot some of our enemies? Or were they eventually killed on the run, just like our kind?
I'm only sorry for not seeing my mom again. She will cry a lot when she hears that I've been killed in action.
I'm the youngest of three brothers, my siblings are also in this war too. She hasn't heard in months what has happened to them, where they've been or if they're actually still alive.
That's been as they came and conscripted me.
I'm sorry for her...
The muddy water still keeps blowing softly against my face. A thin layer has settled on my skin. Small little animals, of which I can see half of them.
Soon I will look like a balloon, and then one after another my flesh will melt 'til there's nothing left of me except my bones. Even my clothes will vanish, as far as they can be degraded by Mother Nature.
There will be nothing left of me, and if not the one who threw me in here kept track of that I lie in this place, no-one will ever know this is the spot where I've stayed.
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
Anyone remember the time where being a postman and being a railroad man still was a honorable occupation?
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
Freedom is - when you go to a demonstration, fully unarmed and unprotected, you don't have to look at a person in martial clothes and wearing weapons.
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
Type: Short story
Rating: 18+
Disclaimer: All original content. All fictional.


Troops wander into a house.
Screaming, threats, noise and whining sound through the walls. Guns are pointed, arms get twisted, people forced on the ground - mostly male. Hasty words exchange in shout, words of innocence, words of guilt, accusations of collaboration and questions for comrades in arms.
The suspects are brought to the outside, with their wifes in companion, if not their confused kids. Parents and grand-parents, whoever live with them, are ordered to leave the house, too.
If violence had not yet been done to them or if it's not in the plan at all, they'll be carried off somewhere else. If the soldiers had a bad day or if the orders give the instructions to, they will set a warning and for that keep them around.
The men are exposed on the street, their hands chained up, in their back the soldiers stand with heavy weaponry designed for two hands. They're ordered to kneel down and do so in fear, in order to avoid further damage for their relatives and perhaps save their own lives.
Questions are not proposed anymore. The soldier who declares himself to be the commander starts to read his verdict in a determined and as well convincing voice over the heads of the fathers, brothers, sons and husbands.
He gives the order for the treatment.
You point your gun, in obedience to your comrades and the will of your native country, but inside your thoughts become restless. What am I doing here? Did I see him fight back when we came to his house? Did anyone ever see him actually fight in the resistance movement? What about his relatives?
Isn't he a father too? How can he be a threat to the state?
His house didn't even have a gun in it!
We caught the people red-handed doing their daily chores!
What right do we have to do this to them?
What will be with his daughter, with his son who are too small to understand? What will be with his wife?
What about my daughter? If she hears daddy killed a man who was innocent? What's my wife going to say when one day police stands at the door and says her husband attended a war crime?
Is there anyone from this troop who will be there for me?
The hand applies to the trigger, but slightly there goes shivering.
The comrades show no sign of hesitance, each one of them is ready to carry out the action.
There's not even a cigarette paper getting between them and their order.
Resolutely, they prepare to pull.

Defeat

7 July 2014 05:32 pm
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
Sometimes a commander must decide whether to save his own life or to die with all that he has along his side. For citizens that count on him, it's a bitter pill - he won't be there to protect them anymore. Any way he decides.
If he stays probably it is his own end and perhaps the end of the war. If he leaves, along with his subordinates, some will call him a traitor and try to hunt him down.

Sometimes he needs to decide whether to keep his honor and the honor of his troops, or if he stays realistic and follows what he has been taught.
Sometimes the strategy is not to win all the battles, but the decisive fights.

At times, there's nothing else left but to acknowledge your own helplessness as a warrior.
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
Type: Fragments of three perspectives that fit into a short story.
Rating: 18+
Disclaimer: All original content. All fictional.


We drop, we bomb, we destroy everything that's in our way. We have no remorse and have no regret, we're drugged and we act out of conviction. Our bodies turn into tools like the machines we ride, blood becomes the fuel and food delivers the energy.
We don't care who dies or if our comrades fall, the goal is higher bliss.
The bodies on the ground we don't see - it is too dark and we fly too high up above the soil.
For the fires we have no time - we have to return to the base to get some new ammunition.

Corpses shattered to pieces, splintered glass on the sidewalks and streets, houses collapsed, bricks cut into pieces, craters, burn marks, blood on the square - towns are destroyed, lives been stolen, children made cry and wifes turned to widows. Old-grown parents bury their kids before they pass away, children become orphanaged, lifelong houses get abandoned and occupants become homeless.
People lose their legs, their arms, their eyes, their ears, their sensation in body parts - some even need to relearn how to walk.
The sound of strong Tinnitus in your ear - you're young and yet your fleshy coat already a ruin.

This all happens with the connivance of the highest leaders, with the tacit consent of those who are in command. They shake hands with murderers and war criminals because they have their interests, because they promised them something. They claim to do it for the national well-being of their countries. For economical growth and making agreements. For the future and security of supplies.
But what they forget about is they could have got this anyway. Peacefully.
All they needed to do was get in line and play fair. - In the end, the most promising party gets the contract.
But this would have required competition and possibly smaller yields for their own. Things they couldn't renounce.
So they try, come hell or high water, to still achieve the whole cake - unwilling to see if they can get the whole cake or what it takes to obtain it.
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
Anlässlich des runden Jubiläums zieht Berlin dieses Jahr anscheinend nach Istanbul um.
matrixmann: (Wasteland Ranger)
Launige Arbeitgeber sind das Schlimmste.
Mal wollen sie nicht für die geleisteten Dienste zahlen, oder die fest vereinbarten Summen - oder man darf zusätzliche Extras erledigen, um seinen Lohn zu erhalten.
Der schlimmste Zustand aber ist Undank; wenn man trotzdem die Ware geliefert hat und sie einen danach faktisch in den Hintern treten wie einen dreckigen Terroristen.
Nicht nur all die Arbeit war dann umsonst, sondern auch der eigene Stolz und die eigene Ehre wurden in den Schmutz gezogen.
So etwas sollte verboten werden.

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