#maybe the real police state is the gods we tried to destroy along the way

[eldritchblep]

Awww yiss, gimme the Aeor lore.

[oswildin]

Chaos ~ Dhawan!Master x F!Reader

~ This is officially my first request! Yay! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy. We all love a bit of a chaotic ship, it turned a bit sadder than intended but I hope you enjoy! ~

Summary: You’d lost everything. Your whole world changed. You’d lost hope. When one broken soul meets another, mix in a little chaos, and it’s one hell of a ride.

Request - Hi! I've never requested something from anyone before but I just finished reading your Dhawan!Master x Reader stories and I fell in love! Could I request one where Dhawan!Master's companion is the reader and they're both crazy and having a grand old time ruining the world together? It could also be cool if you throw in Thirteen and/or the fam trying to reason with the reader and it just not working out. Thank you, I can't wait to see what amazing things you write next!😊 ( @yourlocalspacebisexual )

Warnings: None except maybe some sadness.

~

(Y/N) had lost everything.

What was the point anymore?

The one person she adored. Loved. Craved... Gone.

It was during an accident at work... But she didn’t believe it. He worked in an office, for gods sake, what accident could possibly happen there except maybe accidentally stapling your hand?

It was the same day there were reports of sightings of strange creatures... Big metal robots...

It was no coincidence. (Y/N) wasn’t stupid, she remembered the attack a few years back with similar creatures. She was one of the few that didn’t believe the cover stories. None of them made sense.

It wasn’t fair.

(Y/N) sat at her dining room table, her eyes focused on the piping hot cup of tea in front of her. Nothing felt real anymore. Everything moved slow.

It had been 4 months. And it seemed like everyone had forgotten about him. Everyone except her.

Suddenly she was brought back to reality as she heard a crash from her back garden. She didn’t even react instantly. She slowly got up, heading through the kitchen to the back door. It was dark out, just passing 7pm on the clock as she reached for the handle, hesitantly opening the door.

(Y/N) switched on the garden light, as it illuminated the area. She peered our, her eyes scanning around as she saw nothing. She shrugged to herself before going to close the door, when she heard it again.

She reached back behind her, grabbing whatever was closest, which was an umbrella she’d left on the kitchen side. She held it up in defence as she stepped out.

“I’m giving you 5 seconds to leave, or I’m calling the police.” (Y/N) called out, her heart beginning to race. She could feel her blood pumping as she awaited whatever was outside to get her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she was suddenly faced with what she could only describe as a large green monster. She gasped as she fell back, tripping over her own foot as she jumped in surprise. She hit the cold hard floor as she looked up at the creature. It had a long neck, large black eyes with a small mouth and nose and giant claws.

It went to reach for her, lifting it’s arm in the air as there was another sound. Almost... electronic? Laser sounding. The creature turned to dust right before her eyes as she felt her chest rise and fall quickly. She looked down at the pile of ash in front of her as she quickly pushed herself off the floor, once again grabbing the umbrella holding it up as she finally saw who had killed the being.

“I just saved your life, and you’re threatening me?”

(Y/N)‘s wide eyes saw a man, with tanned skin, dark hair and beard, wearing a purple over coat as he held a device in his hand. His expression was smug as she stared at him.

“With an umbrella at that?” He shook his head. “No wonder you humans don’t live very long.”

“Who are you?!” She exclaimed, her voice strong.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smirked, taking a step forward as he put the device in his inner coat pocket. “I know who you are. (Y/N) (L/N).” She felt her heart stop for a moment as he named her. “Tragic what happened to your little boyfriend.” He tutted to himself. (Y/N) narrowed her eyes, biting her inner cheek as she took a deep breath. “What would you say, if I told you, I knew why he died?”

“Who are you?” She repeated, her tone angry.

“I’m someone who wants someone dead.” He sneered, causing (Y/N) to furrow her brows. “That same someone who didn’t save your precious boyfriend.”

Quickly after that, The Master formally introduced himself, showing (Y/N) his TARDIS and what it could do. She couldn’t help but be in awe. It was the first time in a long time she’d felt something other than despair. He’d shown her space, planets, alien life. She knew he was no saint. But who was? He was almost intoxicating. She couldn’t explain it. It was like it was just the two of them, against the universe.

“I’m ready.”

(Y/N) declared, as the Master raised a brow, pushing himself away from the console as he put his hands in his trouser pockets.

“I want to meet the Doctor.” She told him, her voice monotone as he began to smile.

“I’m already a step ahead of you.” He smirked, moving back to the console as he set in the coordinates. (Y/N) took a deep breath as she joined him at the console, her face blank of expression.

She’d been wanting... revenge wasn’t the right word... but justice. She wanted justice for what happened to her loved one. And for herself. The months she spent locked away, grieving, hating the world. She wanted to release the anger that was buried deep within.

Maybe her and the Master weren’t so different. Of course, they had their spats, he was a difficult person to get along with. He was cocky, arrogant, unpredictable... but for some reason she couldn’t say no. She couldn’t bring herself to go back... to being alone.

In a strange way, he’d been there for her. Her rock. Causing chaos... was kind of fun. She’d became someone who she never thought she would. But she didn’t know if she liked it.

“I’ve sent the distress signal. Our plan is in motion!” The Master clapped his hands together, laughing to himself. “This is going to be... wonderful.” He grinned as (Y/N) stood, holding the same weapon the Master had used on the alien when she’d first met him. “And you...” He walked over to her as she stared up at him. He placed his hands on either side of her face, cupping it. “Are going to be... magnificent.” He smiled darkly, before kissing her forehead gently. She felt her heart skip a beat, something she hadn’t felt in ages. Was she attaching herself? Was she beginning to let herself move on? Was killing the Doctor the last step?

The pair landed on Gallifrey, the Doctor and Master’s home planet. The Master gritted his teeth as he stepped back onto the planet that made him. He despised it. He despised them. As if on cue, a wheezing noise could be heard, as a blue box appeared a few metres ahead of them.

“What- so your people may not be dead?!”

(Y/N) heard a girls voice ask as the door to the box opened. A blonde woman ran out, holding a device in her hand as it scanned the area. The Master had hidden behind his ship, waiting for the right moment to appear. He had managed to disguise it as some rubble that was left over after he had destroyed his home.

“I don’t know!” The blonde woman cried as she searched widely with her eyes. (Y/N) stood, watching as the woman finally noticed her in the distance. The woman paused before rushing towards the girl. However, when she got closer, her device beeped.

“Hang on, you’re human...” The woman said, sadness in her voice. “How are you here? How did you even get here?” She questioned, her brows furrowing.

“Wait, so she’s not one of you? Time kings or whatever you’re called?” An older man asked, gesturing to the girl.

“Timelord. And no. She’s not.” The woman, sensed something was wrong.

“You’re the Doctor, I presume.” (Y/N) stated, as the four newcomers to the planet exchanged glances.

“Yes, I am. Hello.” The Doctor replied cautiously.

“And you must be her companions.” (Y/N) looked at the people behind her as they looked confused. “It’s a shame we had to meet like this.” (Y/N) moved her arm from behind her back, revealing the device the Master had given her. The four backed up instantly, as the Doctor moved in front of her friends, blocking them from harm.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need, I can help!” The Doctor exclaimed, her eyes wide.

“Can you?” (Y/N) shook her head. “Really?” She laughed lightly, tears forming in her eyes. “Because in my books, you don’t have a good track record with that.”

“What?” The Doctor gave her a confused, concerned stare. “How did you get here?”

“Oh, that would’ve been me.”

The Masters voice appeared from behind (Y/N) as he revealed himself, giving the four a finger wave. The Doctor shook her head.

“I always come back.” The Master smirked.

“But how? How can he be there? He got taken by those light aliens with Barton!” Ryan exclaimed, trying to find an answer.

“And yet here I am.” He grinned. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, Doctor.”

“What’s he promised you?” The Doctor ignored the Master, keeping her eyes on (Y/N).

“Peace.” She answered truthfully as the Doctor snorted.

“Peace?!” She repeated.

“Yes, Doctor.” The Master confirmed. “Peace. Closure. Justice.” The Doctor sent him a confused glance.

“You were there.” (Y/N) began to explain. “You were there as my boyfriend died!” She exclaimed. “You let him die. You let them take him! Turn him into a heartless machine.” She let a tear fall, her hand shaking. “He would still be here if you had saved him. Saved all of them.” The Doctor stayed silent as her companions watched in worry.

“It got me thinking... what’s the point?” (Y/N) laughed lightly. The Doctor tried to take a step forward as (Y/N) reacted, letting the laser go off by the woman’s feet. “Do not move!” The Master clapped his hands, laughing manically. The human companions eyes widened as they realised how unhinged (Y/N) was getting.

“That’s my girl.” The Master commented, a proud look in his eyes as (Y/N) breathed in deeply.

“You don’t have to do this.” Yaz chimed in, trying to reason with the fellow girl. “Whatever he’s told you, it’s a lie. The Doctor is a good person.”

“Is she?!” (Y/N) cried. “I know there’s two sides to every story, but from where I’m standing it’s hard to understand the other side.” The Master grew closer to (Y/N) as he leant forward, leaning into her ear.

“Do it.” He said quietly. “Think of your boy. Think of his pain. His agony.” He taunted her as the Doctor shook her head.

“Would he want this?” She asked. “Would he want you to become this?”

“It doesn’t matter what he would want, because he is dead!” (Y/N) exclaimed, the laser still aimed at the Doctor.

“I’m sorry!” The Doctor raised her hands. “I’m so, so sorry.” She said more quietly, her tone sincere, sad. (Y/N) looked into the woman’s eyes as she saw the pain in them. She let more tears fall as she felt her heart break.

What was she doing?

What had she become?

(Y/N) slowly lowered her arm, as the Master furrowed his brows.

“What are you doing?” He hissed at her, his anger rising.

“I can’t.” She whispered. “Causing chaos with you is one thing... but killing is another.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

The Doctor sighed in relief as her companions did the same. Yaz watched as the girl crumbled, her heart aching for her as she hesitantly approached the younger girl. She tried to calm her down as the Master bit his tongue.

“Humans. So much sentiment.” He spat.

“Is this what you’ve resorted to!?” The Doctor shook her head. “Look at what you’ve done!” She gestured around her. “You destroyed our home! Isn’t that enough?!” She laughed bitterly. “You prayed on a vulnerable human... Using her as a weapon!”

“Don’t lecture me, Doctor!” The Master hissed, snapping viciously. “Like you’re so innocent!” He narrowed his eyes. “I could say the same to you...” he paused. “You call these humans your friends... but they’re just an accessory. You fashion them into weapons and release them into the world!” The Doctor looked taken back by the Masters words, remembering Davros saying the same thing to her in her tenth regeneration.

“Well then perhaps you and me aren’t so different.” She replied quietly.

BONUS:

“I got it!”

(Y/N) cried, a smile on her face as she held the rare jewel from a far away alien planet. The Master looked at her in shock.

“How?!” He raised a brow.

“I have my ways.” She smirked as she tucked it in her pocket.

“Over there!” They heard a distant voice as they both began to run.

“You have to admit, I’m giving you a run for your money.” She commented as they ran along, heading back to the Masters’ TARDIS.

“Yeah, but you did learn from the best.” He smugly replied, setting a few paintings on fire with his laser as the aliens that inhabited the gallery began to run in fright. As they arrived at the TARDIS door, the Master turned to the guards who were holding up guns towards him.

“Oh, and one last thing before we go.” He paused. “I may or may not have detonated a bomb on the ground floor.” He grinned like a child as the guards instantly began to panic. “It’s ok, I’ll pay for any damages.” He waved his hand. “Just send the bill my way.” He quickly closed the door as they began to open fire, (Y/N) yelping as one shot through the door of the ship.

“Oh I do love to leave a lasting impression.” The Master commented dramatically as he ran to the console.

“You forgot the shields again!” She complained as the Master ignored her. She tossed him the jewel as he caught it, smirking.

“Time to get that favour we are owed.”

There was a ringing through the ship as (Y/N) gave the Master a knowing look.

“It’s her.” She commented, raising a brow. The Master rolled his eyes dramatically as he answered the old style phone that was lying on the console.

“Can I remind you we don’t need a babysitter?” The Master raised a brow as he spoke. (Y/N) laughed lightly as she knew they were going to get a telling off.

“Did you just blow up the Gallery of Callisto and steal the jewel of Vanth?!”

She could hear the Doctor shout from the other end of the phone. The Master sent (Y/N) a knowing look as she snickered to herself.

“I don’t know, I’ve blown up a lot of places and stolen a lot of things recently.” He shrugged.

“Master! I swear-“

“Sorry, you’re- you’re breaking up! Damn time vortex-“

(Y/N) laughed as the Master grinned at her, knowing that they were spending their time trying to cause as much chaos as possible, to the universe and most importantly the Doctor.

~

Taglist: @blamerogertaylor

[didanawisgi]

Anatomy of a Sheepdog

Book Excerpt; Grossman, D., with Christensen, L., On Combat: The Psychology and Physiology of Deadly Conflict in War and in Peace, WSG Research Publications, 2004.

​Reprinted countless times. Feel free to distribute as long as you attribute Lt. Col. Dave Grossman as the author and that it is an excerpt from his book, On Combat.

On Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs (From the book, On Combat, by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman)

“Honor never grows old, and honor rejoices the heart of age. It does so because honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve defending, even if it comes at a high cost. In our time, that may mean social disapproval, public scorn, hardship, persecution, or as always, even death itself. The question remains: What is worth defending? What is worth dying for? What is worth living for?” - William J. Bennett In a lecture to the United States Naval Academy November 24, 1997

“One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: “Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident.” This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another. Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million. Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep. I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me it is like the pretty, blue robin’s egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators. “Then there are the wolves,” the old war veteran said, “and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy.” Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial. “Then there are sheepdogs,” he went on, “and I’m a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf.” Or, as a sign in one California law enforcement agency put it, “We intimidate those who intimidate others.” If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen: a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath–a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? Then you are a sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero’s path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed. The gift of aggression

“What goes on around you… compares little with what goes on inside you.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Everyone has been given a gift in life. Some people have a gift for science and some have a flair for art. And warriors have been given the gift of aggression. They would no more misuse this gift than a doctor would misuse his healing arts, but they yearn for the opportunity to use their gift to help others. These people, the ones who have been blessed with the gift of aggression and a love for others, are our sheepdogs. These are our warriors. One career police officer wrote to me about this after attending one of my Bulletproof Mind training sessions: “I want to say thank you for finally shedding some light on why it is that I can do what I do. I always knew why I did it. I love my [citizens], even the bad ones, and had a talent that I could return to my community. I just couldn’t put my finger on why I could wade through the chaos, the gore, the sadness, if given a chance try to make it all better, and walk right out the other side.” Let me expand on this old soldier’s excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial; that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids’ schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid’s school. Our children are dozens of times more likely to be killed, and thousands of times more likely to be seriously injured, by school violence than by school fires, but the sheep’s only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their children is just too hard, so they choose the path of denial. The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheepdog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours. Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn’t tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports in camouflage fatigues holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, “Baa.” Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog. As Kipling said in his poem about “Tommy” the British soldier:

While it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, fall be'ind,” But it’s “Please to walk in front, sir,” when there’s trouble in the wind, There’s trouble in the wind, my boys, there’s trouble in the wind, O it’s “Please to walk in front, sir,” when there’s trouble in the wind.

The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door. Look at what happened after September 11, 2001, when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero? Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed right along with the young ones. Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, “Thank God I wasn’t on one of those planes.” The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, “Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference.” When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference. While there is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, he does have one real advantage. Only one. He is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population. There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory acts of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself. However, when there were cues given by potential victims that indicated they would not go easily, the cons said that they would walk away. If the cons sensed that the target was a “counter-predator,” that is, a sheepdog, they would leave him alone unless there was no other choice but to engage. One police officer told me that he rode a commuter train to work each day. One day, as was his usual, he was standing in the crowded car, dressed in blue jeans, T-shirt and jacket, holding onto a pole and reading a paperback. At one of the stops, two street toughs boarded, shouting and cursing and doing every obnoxious thing possible to intimidate the other riders. The officer continued to read his book, though he kept a watchful eye on the two punks as they strolled along the aisle making comments to female passengers, and banging shoulders with men as they passed. As they approached the officer, he lowered his novel and made eye contact with them. “You got a problem, man?” one of the IQ-challenged punks asked. “You think you’re tough, or somethin’?” the other asked, obviously offended that this one was not shirking away from them. “As a matter of fact, I am tough,” the officer said, calmly and with a steady gaze. The two looked at him for a long moment, and then without saying a word, turned and moved back down the aisle to continue their taunting of the other passengers, the sheep. Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I’m proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs. Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, “Let’s roll,” which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers–athletes, business people and parents–from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground. “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”

“There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men.” - Edmund Burke Reflections on the Revolution in France

Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn’t have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision.

If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior’s path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door. For example, many officers carry their weapons in church. They are well concealed in ankle holsters, shoulder holsters or inside-the-belt holsters tucked into the small of their backs. Anytime you go to some form of religious service, there is a very good chance that a police officer in your congregation is carrying. You will never know if there is such an individual in your place of worship, until the wolf appears to slaughter you and your loved ones. I was training a group of police officers in Texas, and during the break, one officer asked his friend if he carried his weapon in church. The other cop replied, “I will never be caught without my gun in church.” I asked why he felt so strongly about this, and he told me about a police officer he knew who was at a church massacre in Ft. Worth, Texas, in 1999. In that incident, a mentally deranged individual came into the church and opened fire, gunning down 14 people. He said that officer believed he could have saved every life that day if he had been carrying his gun. His own son was shot, and all he could do was throw himself on the boy’s body and wait to die. That cop looked me in the eye and said, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?” Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for “heads to roll” if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids’ school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them. Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones were attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?” The warrior must cleanse denial from his thinking. Coach Bob Lindsey, a renowned law enforcement trainer, says that warriors must practice “when/then” thinking, not “if/when.” Instead of saying,“If it happens then I will take action,” the warrior says, “When it happens then I will be ready.” It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up. Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: You didn’t bring your gun; you didn’t train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy. Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by fear, helplessness, horror and shame at your moment of truth. Chuck Yeager, the famous test pilot and first man to fly faster than the speed of sound, says that he knew he could die. There was no denial for him. He did not allow himself the luxury of denial. This acceptance of reality can cause fear, but it is a healthy, controlled fear that will keep you alive:

“I was always afraid of dying. Always. It was my fear that made me learn everything I could about my airplane and my emergency equipment, and kept me flying respectful of my machine and always alert in the cockpit.” - Brigadier General Chuck Yeager Yeager, An Autobiography

Gavin de Becker puts it like this in Fear Less, his superb post-9/11 book, which should be required reading for anyone trying to come to terms with our current world situation:

“..denial can be seductive, but it has an insidious side effect. For all the peace of mind deniers think they get by saying it isn’t so, the fall they take when faced with new violence is all the more unsettling. Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level.”

And so the warrior must strive to confront denial in all aspects of his life, and prepare himself for the day when evil comes. If you are a warrior who is legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that the bad man will not come today. No one can be “on” 24/7 for a lifetime. Everyone needs down time. But if you are authorized to carry a weapon, and you walk outside without it, just take a deep breath, and say this to yourself… “Baa.” This business of being a sheep or a sheepdog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-grass sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. The degree to which you move up that continuum, away from sheephood and denial, is the degree to which you and your loved ones will survive, physically and psychologically at your moment of truth.”

[grapeinacape-blog]

The Cold Hand, by Alex Goodwin

This story is entirely based on true events of the occurrences in Longstanton, from the dates of the 10th of April 2017, to the 24th of November 2017. The case can be followed through newspapers and is often referred to as the ‘High Street Dismemberment’.

As a quiet village, the happenings were kept to a minimum. Most people knew each other well and I was one of such villagers. The crime rates were low, maybe because it was such a small place, or maybe because it was such a slow town. There were dog walkers and day drinkers, as all places offer.

But when the murder happened, it’s like they went into limbo. It was on the news first thing Tuesday morning. A murder so horrible, it shocked everyone as to the lengths some people will go to. It was dramatically horrific, a dismembered body, all bloody as it lay for the world to see in the middle of High Street. Her head lay, like a ragdoll, mucky blonde hair covered her slim face, whilst her torso lay in the middle, on her back, chest torn out as if ravaged by a wild animal. But no animal, the report said, could have removed her legs so expertly, crossed them beneath her as though creating a symbol which beckoned a silent prayer, to a God that did not exist. For if He existed, He would not have let this happen.

Passers-by stared in horror. People screamed. The cameras could show no footage and the police were baffled. It took 4 days for her to be identified.

“Her name is Lisa Hightower, she’s 26 years old and is from Derby. She was visiting friends in the village. They were concerned when she didn’t return home, though had received a text stating she was staying with a gentleman that night and returning the next day. It is in both her and the public’s, best interest to find this gentleman and understand what he knows. If anyone saw any suspicious behaviour the night of the 9th of April, call us now. If you have seen this woman, let us know.”

After watching the report, viewers stayed to watch the image of a pretty woman on their screen. No longer mucky, her wavy blonde hair fell to her shoulders and her face was no longer obstructed. Slim cheeks, with a round chin and small nose. Tight lips stretched into a smile painted with red. Bright blue eyes that shone as she posed in front of the camera. She never thought it would end up here, not like this. She had dreams, like so many others do. She wished to be on the stage, acting and singing. She’d done a couple of hits in the musicals, back in Derby and had caught a bug for it.

She was a kind woman, she spared a moment for everyone, which is what ended her life in the end. She stopped to chat in the middle of anywhere she went. She was always smiling and just had such a pure heart. That’s why it was such a crime that she’d been taken, because what could the motive be if no one was out to get her? Did it mean that everyone was at risk of being ripped apart in the middle of the street?

The town was abuzz, all wondering who, or what, could have done something as cruel as this to such a bright young woman.

“Must be a sick man, that one. Some sickening fantasy to get into her pants, then rip her apart. Poor girl, she had her whole life ahead of her.”

“I’ll tell you what they should do, they should string him up. Hang him and cut him apart. Death penalty’s too good for him, I say.”

When a man was finally found, they found themselves eating their words. All talk, no play, apparently. This story is a difficult one to tell. It was as though the facts unravelled themselves before your very eyes in slow motion. Watching Detective Hall beg the public for information, to his grave announcement that the man in question had been found. Curled blonde hair was found in Joseph Mackenzie’s bed, clumps of it in his bag, along with a knife. Though apparently the end of the case, it seemed we would have no luck.

“Joseph Mackenzie has been found in his apartment. His time of death approximates to half an hour before that of Lisa Hightower. Though our main suspect, he has now been ruled out. Once again, we ask for any information as to their whereabouts that night. Lisa Hightower must have left the apartment.”

This shook the village even more. Many of them read between the lines. Not only had their main suspect been eliminated, but he was their only suspect. They were back to square one. Now, many of the followers of this investigation knew a few things about crime. They knew, that not only was this a horrible crime, but that no sane man could live with himself having destroyed not only one, but two people in this way. He’d have to come forward at some point or another.

Joseph was not found in the same way as Lisa. He was not bare, for the world to see, every part detached from the other. No, he was a break in the pattern, they said. Though, how a pattern could be established after one killing, is unusual. Joseph lay in his bed, as though sleeping. His ruffled hair in his eyes, his shirt strewn amongst the rest of his possessions on the ground. It was only when the duvet was pushed off him that they noticed the gaping hole where his stomach once lived.

On his bedside table was a picture of his four-year-old son, Samuel. It seemed clear to everyone that the murderer’s only intent was ruining lives and pulling people apart the most gruesome way possible. Again, the quiet village was thrown into limbo. People became scared to leave their houses. They were assured it was a one-time murder. But the locals weren’t convinced.

It took months before there were any developments, leaving months for people to return to their normal lives and all but forget the case that had shook them. There was no news from the police, until we watched as a man was dragged, kicking and screaming from the local pub. Greying hair, thin-framed glasses and the beginnings of a beer belly.

The officers in charge, had managed to trace the text that Lisa had sent, back to her location at the time. After finding this, they then managed to follow that trace. She’d had her location on the whole night. After drinking, she made her way back to Joseph’s apartment. She was there for approximately an hour, before leaving the flat and making her way towards Stevenson’s Road. Walking down it, it seemed Lucas was awake, inviting the girl in. She stood outside for an extended period of time, refusing to go in. With his wife away, maybe that was what encouraged the desperate plea for companionship. The phone followed her into the house eventually. And there it remained, down the back of the sofa. The murderer had then planted evidence both at Mackenzie’s residence and elsewhere to remove himself from the murder completely. But it hadn’t worked as well, as he’d hoped.

“Clever, isn’t it? That phone could’ve saved her life. That phone is bringing the darling the justice she deserves.”

Lucas refused to talk for weeks. He did not deny the charges, he was too scared to. He did not agree to ever meeting, nor tearing the young lady apart. He simply sat, tight lipped, staring at the wall.

“Lucas Bell, you’re being held here for the suspected murder of both Lisa Hightower and Joseph Mackenzie. Remind us of your whereabouts on the 9th of April.”

“I was at home.” The quiet voice replied, to the officer that sat opposite him.

“Anyone able to prove that?”

After a pause, Lucas had replied with a simple shake of his head.

His family had been away for the week and by being away they had permitted the murder of Lisa. Following his few answers, he lapsed back into a silence. There were no ‘no comments’, nor more movements of the head. He simply lost the urge to fight back.

He was charged with two accounts of murder. By the time the court date arrived, Lucas Bell was a sunken shell of a man. The growing beer belly had disappeared, and his clothes hung off him. His hair was all grey now, except for the few streaks of black that still remained. His face was hollow and when the jury met his eyes, there was nothing there. His lawyer tried, but Lucas gave him nothing to work with. He just stood there, staring.

It didn’t take too long for Lucas to be sentenced to life in prison.

“After one of the most horrific cases I have come across in my time here, there is no doubt that Lucas Bell must be found guilty on both accounts.”

Once again, the small village was stunned into silence. I don’t know, to this day, whether it was relief that this man was off the streets and serving time for such a horrid display of human nature. Or whether it was shock, that the man that lived so close to all of us, that drank our beer and bought our food, had been capable of something like that. A normal man, with a lovely wife, 2 children and a grandchild on the way.

In a way, that’s what all this was for, really. Lucas Bell exposed humans for what they are and in turn gave this village an entertainment. Now, even a year later, Lucas still hasn’t said anything. He is no longer a sunken man, but barely a man at all. Empty not only physically, but emotionally.

Blood stains the High Street, even when washed away. And blood stains a man’s hand, even when scrubbed away. Red, raw hands that remind him of the price he had to pay. Was it all worth it?

***

“’Alex Goodwin’s novel has hit the shelves like a tidal wave. It offers inner details of the tragedy that struck Longstanton. Experience dark interviews with the police and descriptions of the images that have been kept from the public eye. Now a bestseller, it’d be an absolute murder not to pick the book up today.’ I bet you were glowing from the response your story received.”

“It’s true, I was shocked by the amount of feedback I received on my work. I’d always written crime novels. My other work features fictional accounts, however. Such as ‘The End.’, ‘No Rest For the Wicked.’ But nothing worked as well as this did. I’d known for a while I should write a real-life account of a crime, but everything had been done. I needed something new, fresh and local.”

The recorders were switched off and I felt myself relax in my chair, as the assistant brought through my coffee.

“Can I get you anything else?”

Smiling up at the woman, I take a moment. That’s what it’s all about, really. Using this newfound hierarchy to see what I could have, if I really wanted it. And I did really want it.

“You know, for my story I used a research method of conflation of information that had been given by the officers, and Lisa’s family and friends.”

I let my hand brush across hers as I reach for the coffee. I’m certain her cheeks go pink, though I don’t need to look to check.

“Very clever, Mr Goodwin. We’ve just got a couple more questions, before we finish up here. Is that alright?”

“Of course, dear. And what are you doing once we’re finished?”

She doesn’t reply to that, leaving the room as I sip at my coffee, staring at the wall as I wait for the others to return with her. I don’t have to wait very long, though I’ve already drunk half my coffee now. The recorders are switched on again.

“How long had you been writing before ‘The Cold Hand’?”

“Oh, years. With no success of course.”

“You’re a young man, Alex. You had lots of your life ahead of you, why were you so desperate to get the fame now?”

“Good looks don’t get you everywhere.” I laugh.

It’s true. I think, truly, if looks got you anywhere at all, this woman would be a lot prettier than she is. And the man beside her wouldn’t be a balding middle-aged one, but a fit, toned young man.

“You like a good-looking person though, don’t you?” It comes off as an accusation, but I shrug it off.

“Who doesn’t?”

“And Lisa Hightower was one such woman.”

“She was very pretty, yes.”

Putting my coffee cup down I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Well then, tell us again, if you can, Mr Goodwin, your whereabouts on the night of the 9th of April.”

“No comment.”

“Did you threaten Lucas Bell’s wife and family, so that he would take the fall?”

“No comment.”

“Why kill Lisa Hightower?”

“Why does anyone do anything, Inspector? I deserved my big break. And I got it.”

[sweetnestor]

this is not a dream #4 | would you be scared?

the real reason ethan was taken under the teamiplier wing | teamiplier/ego au

oops it's been a while

WARNINGS: suicide, murder, blood, self harm, drug abuse, alcoholism, sex addiction

read at your own risk.

previous.

“Three worst things to do on a first date?”

“Uh, shitting your pants, saying ‘I love you,’ killing her.”

~

It was a fucking joke. It was for a video. Ethan actually laughed at his own words at the time. Was this karma for saying such a thing?

No, how could something he did… somewhat voluntarily, be karma? Sure, Ethan had no recollection of murdering his fucking Tinder date, but obviously he was the one to do it! He had his date’s blood all over his hands and clothes, after all!

Oh god, he drew blood… he harmed another human. Ethan leaned back against the wall in the alleyway, unable to tear his eyes away from the dead body. He slid down to the ground, completely distressed, and sat on something that squished and burst. His mind racing, he tried to remember how he got here.

He had talked to her for a couple of days via the app. He learned her name. Her age. What she did for a living. She was far too pretty for him. She was smart, passionate. He learned a lot more over dinner with her. She had a couple of drinks, which was where Ethan discovered she was a lightweight. He paid for everything, then they left. Then… he was here. It was like the time between the date itself and now had been cut away. It was just a blank space in his head, and all that was left was a corpse and a lot of blood.

Had he gone into another episode? What else had he destroyed, besides this girl’s life? Should he even turn himself in? Who could he go to?

Ethan’s hand twitched. It didn’t feel like he had any control over it, but he was stuck on the cold, lifeless body of his date. He wiped his hands off on his jeans and then stood back up. His knees were weak and shaky, but the general panic and shock was wearing off rather quickly.

His body did the movements. He turned on his heel and calmly walked out of the alleyway. His hand twitched the entire walk, he could feel his instinct talking to him.

Then, Ethan's hand went through the window of a car parked on the curb. The glass shattered, little bits and pieces finding their way into his knuckles. Somehow, he managed to rip off the side view mirror off the next car. His own blood was getting mix with his dead date’s blood.

He kept walking, trying to breathe and cling to whatever sanity he had left. His mind was wavering in and out of reality, and he had the smallest feeling that something else was taking control. It was like playing tug-of-war. The only thing is, Ethan didn’t know who or what he was fighting with, and whatever it was, it was getting stronger.

By the time he reached the destination he didn’t know he was heading to, any hint of shock, panic, or any human emotion had faded away. He walked up the stairs to the office, tracking blood along the way. He heard voices on the top landing, and they all stopped upon hearing Ethan dragging his feet. He made his presence known, a neutral look on his bloodstained face.

Staring at the back wall, he finally spoke. “So I killed someone tonight.”

And then he threw up on the floor.

~

“You’re really fucking lucky we’re not turning you in!” Mark angrily snapped.

Honestly, Ethan was expecting him to be generally unfazed by the situation, given how things went when it was Tyler who had taken a life. However, Ethan wasn’t expecting this reaction either. After getting cleaned up, he explained what had happened to Kathryn and Mark while Tyler and Amy went to deal with the body. It was especially hard to explain why he couldn’t remember the murder itself. All he could do was stay wrapped up in a security blanket and try not to impulsively off himself again.

“Go easy on him,” Kathryn said to Mark.

“Why should I? He’s a murderer!”

“So is Tyler, and you helped him without even thinking!”

That was true. That was very true. Why was Ethan getting shit for this? Did he deserve it? Probably, but not like this. Not from these people.

“Well, we expect those kinds of things from Tyler!” Mark shot back. Then he ran his fingers through his hair, anxiously pacing around the room.

“What, he kills people regularly?” Ethan scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing.

“Remember what we said about questions?” Kathryn reminded him.

“Well, when can I know anything?” He was growing frustrated, to say the least.

“We told you, when you figure it out.”

Ethan wanted to press even more, but then Tyler and Amy returned. Sweating. Shaking. Mildly disturbed. A sight to get used to.

“We couldn’t find anything on the body,” Tyler stated. “Once we ID’d them, we looked into it. No family, no friends. Nothing at all.”

A daunting silence. Ethan kept rocking, wrapping the blanket even tighter around himself. He wanted to figure out what that meant, but he was still struggling to remember how he ended up here in the first place.

“Like Marsha,” Mark said in realization.

“Exactly.”

What the fuck did that even mean? They wouldn’t say. They never would. Ethan's mind was static.

“How did she die?” he managed to ask. “What did I do to her?”

Another grim silence. He was staring at a spot on the floor, so he didn't see the others exchange dark looks.

“Maybe you should rest before-” Amy started.

“Tell me what I did to her,” Ethan repeated, sounding much more demanding.

“You didn't have any weapons on you, I'm assuming?” Tyler asked, to which Ethan shook his head.

Usually, someone would be shocked at the fact that Ethan couldn't remember what he had done. But these people didn’t seem to think twice about it.

“Her body was clawed open,” Amy quickly said. “And her head was decapitated. Eyes gouged. Organs… everywhere.”

No one deserved that.

For some reason, all Ethan could remember was the blood staining his hands, clothes, the walls and the ground. Maybe it was for the best. He couldn't believe that he had done this, but he was the only person she was with that night.

“What if,” he spoke, “what if someone else did it? It couldn’t have been me… I-I’m not capable-”

“Anyone is capable of anything,” Amy said grimly.

“How could it not have been you?” asked Mark in disbelief.

Ethan shrugged. “I can’t remember any of it… Maybe I was drugged… Someone killed her, and put the blame on me…”

“Were you around anyone else tonight?”

“No.”

“Did anyone follow you? Anyone approach you?”

“No, but-”

“Then how are you so sure?”

“I’m not! It was just a dumb idea…”

“We could break into the security systems around town,” Tyler suggested. “And the restaurant you guys went to… just to be sure.”

“Isn’t that what the police are supposed to do?” Ethan asked.

Mark gave him an incredulous look. “So you want to get turned in?”

“Maybe I should!” the boy finally snapped. “I’m dangerous, aren’t I? You guys can get rid of bodies and commit murders without thinking but I can’t! I don’t know what’s wrong with me anymore, I shouldn’t be here, I’m a fucking monster!”

“Okay, edgelord,” Kathryn said, condescendingly patting Ethan’s shoulder. “Calm down.”

“At least we don’t see you as a monster,” Amy said. “You’re safe with us. We know what you’ve been through.”

That was the most calming and reassuring thing Ethan had heard all night. He sighed and sat back on the couch.

“Well, we’re all gonna spend the night here,” Mark said in conclusion, cutting the tension. “We’re all accomplices of a murder, so we’ll stay here just to be safe.”

Ethan wasn’t sure how that made sense, but now he knew better than to ask. All he knew was that he wouldn’t be able to sleep ever again, or so he thought. He had to deal with the fact that he murdered a living, breathing soul. It was even more concerning that deep down, he wasn’t really all that concerned. He’s had homicidal thoughts for longer than he liked to admit, and now some of these thoughts came to life. Maybe if he remembered how and why he did it, he would be more freaked out.

Maybe if he hadn’t had the tea that Kathryn and Amy made for everyone, he would have stayed up the whole night.

____

next.

[bleedingcoffee42]

that "gentlemen prefer blondes" au was so good!! I'm a different anon but I loved it, thank you omg. could I bother you to maybe continue it...??

Me, pass up a chance to make dick jokes in a semi-serious AU? NEVER!  Enjoy!

xxxxxxxxx

Prev part

“I knew I  could count on you!” Rebecca said as Riza joined her at the bar in the dining car.   Shetook the roll of film and then looked at her best friends face whichsaid that she was not at all thrilled with the success.  “What?”

“I liked him.”  Riza said andshrugged as she leaned on the bar.  “He was different.”

“Look, there will be plenty ofavailable rich guys at the wedding. “  Rebecca said and nudged her.

“I’m not like you. I’m not justlooking for a man who is strong and rich to get you out of thislife.”  Riza said.  “Honestly I don’t think you want thateither.”

“I do like money.”  Rebecca saidand then rolled her eyes.  “I guess I’ve just enjoyed that aspectof this relationship way too much.   It’s the novelty of it I guess,the trust Alex gave me to do what I wanted and now I almost blew itall.  He’s got a good heart and I’ve never had anyone really treat melike he does.    Thanks for getting this…I’m sorry if I ruinedsomething with that guy.”

“Destroy that film, please.”  Rizasaid and left.   The least she could do was keep watch over Roy whilehe slept and maybe get him a bucket to throw up in if he needed it.  It was up to her to salvage this.  She knew from the girls that usedto ‘work’ the hotel customers, that Madam Christmas was not just abrothel owner but also dealt with information and blackmail. Certainly Roy couldn’t hold it against her that she was forced toplay that game.

When she came back to the Pullman, hewas already gone.

Xxxxxx 

Rebecca excused herself from her partyearly, knowing that another bar-top dance could be photographed orused against her.   She didn’t think anything of it, she was ashowgirl and she loved to show off, but her futurefather-in-law was clearly not going to be very tolerant of that.  She didn’t need reports of her 'behavior’ getting back to Central,especially since she wasn’t sure how many people saw Yoki gettingfrisky with her.  

And what a fool she was to riskeverything over a weasel like him.  

When she let herself back into theArmstrong private car she was expecting a drunk man and a depressedbest friend, but instead she saw a naked Yoki with his 'snake’ ondisplay.  “What. The. Hell.”

“Careful, it spits.”  Yoki said andgrinned.  He patted the couch cushion next to him and smiled.  “Ibet you can tame it though.”

Rebecca held up the film, never one tolet an opportunity slip past her.  “See this?  This is photographicproof of you getting a little handsy the last time you tried todemonstrate your slimy slithery nature back at the depot.   So getyour pants on and get out of here unless you want me to had deliverthis to your wife.”

Yoki pulled a shirt over his lap as hefelt his Little Yoki soften and retreat.  “I’m sorry….I see therehas been a miscommunication.”

“Yeah, like when I said I wasinterested in your 'family jewels’. “  Rebecca said and flashed herdiamond ring.  “I meant these stones.”

“Perhaps we can reach some sort ofagreement.” Yoki said and pulled his pants over and started to getdressed.

Even better, he didn’t wear underwearand was rubbing those jewels on the couch.   “Like what?”

“Like I give you a few of those gemsfor what you’re holding right now and we forget about this matter.” Yoki said and stood as he got his pants on.  He slipped into hisshirt.  “I have a necklace in my car, it’s a little big for my wifebut certainly would not be outshone by your amble chest.”

Rebecca wrapped her hand around theroll of film.  It was so hard to get out of this game.   “I’mlistening.”

xxxxxxxxxx

Riza was relieved to get of the trainand finally to Aquroya.  She searched the train but couldn’t findMustang and just opted to let him go and think about what could havebeen and leave it at that.  Maybe when they got back to Central shecould visit his office or…..just leave it alone.  Take hisdisappearance as his response to her betrayal and write it off asanother guy who just didn’t work out.   It was easier said than done,she thought a lot about his eyes under that shaggy mess of hair andhow they did not say he was anything but understanding.  Or how niceit was to roll her hands over that linen shirt and feel what washidden underneath or the dick joke when she had her hand in hispants.

It was a collection of odd things thatkept her thinking about him and one very distinct thing that made herknow he wasn’t gone.

“I’m sorry Miss Catalina, but yourreservation has been canceled and the bank has sent over a notestating your line of credit has been revoked.”

The two ladies looked at the hotelmanager, Rebecca with disbelief and Riza with a blink of realization.  Riza tugged on her best friend’s arm and said, “Get on thepayphone now and call your fiance.  Explain it all.  Truth, absolutetruth.”

“I….haven’t been absolutely honestwith you, Riza.”  Rebecca said and her friend turned to her notwith a look a anger but one of sadness.   She knew what that meant. “It’s been a hard life, you catch breaks when you can and Yokipresented himself to me…..as in naked…and I just ran with it.  Hewas in a compromising position so I told him I’d give the film to hiswife and tell her he was in our car naked.   He offered anecklace….diamond necklace in trade for the film. It’s men like himthat made me like this. God, they make it so easy to manipulatethem.”

“You were supposed to destroy that!” Riza hissed.  

“I turned it into diamonds, that’swhat I do.”  Rebecca said.  “I took a lump of ugly coal andturned it into diamonds.”

“Well I appreciate your honestly butI doubt that had anything to do with the Armstrongs cutting you off. Even if Yoki made the connection and wanted to ruin you, he wouldn’thave a way to get the photos to them that quickly.”  Riza pushedher friend towards the phone.  “Just try to explain it all to Alex. He, loves you for who you are.  He might not be able to trulyunderstand what your life is like and how it made you who you are,but he does listen when you tell him.   So go.”

“It’s your boyfriend isn’t it?”  Rebecca asked.  “The dick.”

“He’s not a dick he’s just doing hisjob.”  Riza said defensively.  

“I meant dick as in P.I.”  Rebeccasaid and then went over to the payphone.   That was a conversationbest left for later when she wasn’t in danger of losing her future.

Riza walked away into the lobby.   Shelooked around and looked for him, knowing he wouldn’t just strandthem there.  She knew this was another high stakes game they wereplaying, a real life game of chess, and he had just called checkmate.  She wasn’t sure how to get out of this, but to start she had toknow how screwed they were.   Then she spotted him by the entrance,he stood out against the crowd with his dark eyes and hair and longblack trench coat.   As soon as they made eye contact he walked overto her.  “I took the pictures, what else did you have?”

“I put a recording device under thetable when you were clearly going to get me drunk.”  Roy admitted. “I also set the alarm on my watch to go off at the same time, gavemyself an hour before you were going to render me unconscious.  Nothing like an Amestris Pocket Watch Company alarm to wake you up.”

“That’s impressive.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw mecrawl out of that car and puke in the hall.”  Roy said.  “Myrecording device was in the freight car, I spent the rest of thejourney in there with some sheep and an awful hangover.   On ourarrival I played the recording for Mr. Armstrong and fulfilled mycontract.”

“Rebecca refused Yoki.”  Riza said. “She said she blackmailed him.”

“My job is not to interpret, it is togather the evidence and present it to the client.”  Roy said.  “I’msorry, but you gave her the opportunity to destroy the film andinstead she gave me even more compelling evidence.   I do have tworeturn tickets for you to Central….”

They both fell silent as the Policearrived in the lobby of the hotel. Riza watched the head of thepolice unit walk to the counter and ask about Rebecca.  They bothlistened and Riza was shocked when she overheard that Rebecca waswanted for jewel theft!?   That bastard Yoki!  She looked over andRebecca was already gone, she was a girl with a lot of street senseand never needed to be told twice to vanish when the cops showed up. “I appreciate it Mr. Mustang, but I think you’ve already doneenough for us.”

“I didn’t do this.” He said andRiza gave him an apologetic smile.

“I know.” She replied and paused. What did she really want to say to him.  “I think it best if youstayed out of this as it seems like things are going from bad toworse.   I’d like to protect someone, even if I’m doing a terriblejob of protecting my best friend.”

Roy watched her leave and pulled outhis PI license and walked over to one of the cops.  “Gentlemen, Ithink we’re looking for the same girl.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Alex is almost here.”  Rebeccasaid.  “I just need more time!”  

Riza sighed.  They had been on the runfor two days and the police were closing in on them.   They werehiding in the hotel theater storage closet and she was sick ofrunning.   “You need to confess, you need to just tell the truth.”

“I can’t!” Rebecca cried.  “Notuntil he hears it from me first.”

“Then go.  Go find him at the trainstation and I’ll take care of the police.”  Riza said and browsedthe costume shelves and pulled out a brunette wing and held it out toher best friend.  She took out her hair clip and said.  “You canbraid my hair so it will be hidden under that, can’t you?”

“You think you…can pretend to beme?”  Rebecca asked, seeing where this was going.

“I’m your best friend, of course Ican.”

“No offense Riza, but my firstinstinct is to dance on the bar and yours is to polish off the scuffmarks while I do.  You wouldn’t be in this except for me.”  Rebeccasaid.  “From the beginning you have been watching over me and Ikept dragging along into all this.   I told myself the money was goodand we got each others backs, but I think you might have been happieron some guy’s arm…ballroom dancing.”

“It got me away from home.”  Rizaadmitted.   “That’s what mattered.   There was no future in thedance lessons I had, you gave me the only outlet where that could bea living.  I am thankful for that.   So now, I need to get you thatballroom dancing on that guy’s arm.  Cause you’re ready to stopplaying this game, you’re ready to have someone look at you insteadof ogle.”

“Speak for yourself.  He oglesme…and my muscles.”  Rebecca smirked.  “All of them.”

“Do you want to be saved or not?”Riza demanded.  

“Fine. Wig looks great.”  Rebeccawent over and got a hair net and some pins.   “What is the plan?”

“I’m going to turn myself in.   Me,Rebecca Catalina.   I’ll figure things out.”  Riza said.

“That’s not a plan.”

“You need to get to Alex.  That isthe plan.  The rest I’ll work out.”

xxxxxxxxxxx

Roy tried to follow the investigationbut the locals police were hardly interested in being one upped by aPI from Central.  Luckily he found the hotel detective to be amiableand eager to help.   Maes Hughes was a stand up guy, even if he wasobnoxious as hell, and he had romantic side to him that made him wantto assist him in finding Riza.  Roy wasn’t really thrilled about himreferring to her as “your future wife”  but considering all theinformation he was giving him, he really didn’t want to complain.

It was thanks to this information thathe learned of Miss Catalina turning herself in to the police in orderto prove her innocence.   He went to the police station and found outthat this small town typically sent everyone before the judgeimmediately, due to the time limitations vacationers had to deal withlegal matters.    Getting in would have been impossible had it notbeen for Hughes and his obnoxious need to flaunt pictures ineveryone’s faces, the distraction allowed him to slip into thecourtroom just in time to see a brunette on the stand that was notRebecca Catalina and Yoki throwing a fit declaring her a fraud.

The courtroom was loud and the judgewas slamming his gavel trying to bring things to order.  Apparently aattraction not listed in the brochures was this mockery of thejustice system.  It was less like a courtroom and more like one ofthose mid-day reality shows where a crude judge handled small claimscourt and people made asses out of themselves.   He looked around andsaw the recording equipment and realized that this was where thatdumb show was broadcast from.

He looked around for a seat and foundnone, so he stood in the aisle and managed to catch 'Miss Catalina’s’eye.   He blinked.  There was no mistaking Riza, even with the wig.The Judge managed to settle down the audience and Yoki immediatelysquealed about that not being the woman who stole his wife’snecklace.  So that was what this was about.   More than likely Yokiwanted to let the matter slide but his wife discovered the missingjewelry and remembered the flirtatious girl at the bar.  He probablyhad no idea this would go before a judge like this and Riza playedher hand well, now she would be able to broadcast the truth to theentire country.   He wasn’t sure why Rebecca couldn’t do thisherself.

“As I was saying, your Honor, Mr.Yoki got very hands on at the train station…if you know whatI mean.  Wrapped his arms around me to fondle me talking aboutsnakes.  Trouser snakes more like it.   There was a journalist therewho got pictures, I ended up with them in my possession  and I cameback to my fiance’s Pullman car to see Mr. Yoki naked! ” Riza saidand the crowd gasped.  Mrs. Yoki began beating her husband with herpurse. “He offered to give me the necklace in exchange for thephotos and I thought that was a fair payment.”

Yoki stood up, “This testimony shouldbe inadmissible because that woman is NOT Miss Catalina!  

Roy knew if this went further he wouldsee Riza face charges for perjury.   He stepped forward and openedhis mouth, “Your honor may I approach the bench?”

Riza had to act quick or Roy would ruineverything.  “I have this friend, Riza, who has been tryingvery hard to help me with this problem of mine.   I think I’m helpingmen make asses of themselves and just take the gifts they want toshower me with, but Riza tells me I need to stop because I have a manI love and this is embarrassing to his family.  I didn’t understand Ihad so much to lose until now and I see…well I see that my friend,Riza, might be losing someone she really is fond of too.”

Roy stared at her.   God, the wig shewas wearing was just awful but under it was intense brown eyes thattold him that she was relying on him to not make a scene.  That sheneeded his help.

“And this friend of hers, he’s a realunderstanding guy.   I think she might be falling for him, I don’tblame her cause those good ones are hard to find.  The ones that lookpast the showgirl and see there’s a girl who’s had to fight hard tomake it in this world.  That the clothes or lack there of, don’t meanwe’re less human.”

Roy blinked.  Well damn.

“He’s a dick though, I don’tthink Riza holds it against him.”  Riza said and bit her lip as Roylooked at her and smiled.   Then she remembered she was supposed tobe Rebecca here and her best friend wouldn’t let an opportunity slipto shock her audience.  “I think she’d be happy if he held itagainst her though.”

And there it was a smile on his lipswhen he should have been crying out that this was an impostor.   “I’msorry, your honor, this can’t be anyone else but Miss Catalina withthat mouth.”

The judge had enough and realized thiswas probably going to get the broadcasting company fined for indecentlanguage if it went on too long.   He slammed his gavel.  “Mr.Yoki, what you engaged in was  a private transaction to secure goods.  You exchanged film for diamonds.   This is not a case for the courtand I am dismissing charges.  Perhaps you and your wife would like toappear on divorce court in the next session? “

Riza stood up and added a little moreswagger as she walked towards the exit accompanied by the bailiff.  Yoki was being laughed at and hit by his wife.   Her job was done.

Roy quickly pushed through the crowdand exited the courtroom.  He took long strides and went to the lobbywhere he found Hughes again.  “Where is exit?  Do you know?  Wherethe release the people on trial?”

“Yeah.”  Hughes put his picturesaway and waved goodbye to the annoyed cops.   He walked with his newfriend out the front doors and then made a left at the sidewalk andwalked around back.  “I guess it all went OK?”

“Better than OK.”

“Wedding in your future?”  Hughesasked.

Roy gave him a glare.  This guy didn’tquit.  Before he could answer he heard Riza behind him.

“Yes, actually.”  Riza said andwalked up to him and saw him at a complete loss for words.  Shewhispered, “My best friend is getting married and I don’t have adate for the wedding.  Are you available Mr. Mustang?”

Roy smiled and reached out to touch thewig she was wearing.  “I actually prefer blondes.”

She gave him a smile and said, “Ibelieve my issues with credit may have cleared up, can you take meback to the hotel?  There is a wedding to plan.”

xxxxxxxxxxx

Mr. Armstrong said nothing about theappearance of Roy Mustang on the arm of Rebecca Catalina’s bestfriend.   He said nothing about his son crying and being barely ableto get out his wedding vows.   He said nothing, until it was time togreet the new couple and address the former showgirl as the new Mrs.Armstrong.   An illustrious name, passed down for generations, nowgoing to be passed down through her.   He couldn’t just say nothing. “Are you going to tell me you didn’t marry my son for money?”

“Yes, actually.”  Rebecca repliedwith a satisfied smirk.

“Then what did you marry him for?”

“I married him for your money.” She countered and heard a snort from Alex’s older sister, Olivier. Alex’s father left and Olivier turned to her.  

“The stunt you pulled with the radiocourt show and that man Yoki was actually quite a clever move.” Olivier had to admit.  

“I had a great friend who neverturned her back on me.”  Rebecca said and winked at Riza who lookedgood in that bridesmaid dress, but even better with that man she wasbeside.  There was a glow about her, the kind of shine no diamond inthe word could hold a candle to.

“We can be intelligent when we wantto be.”  Riza said.   “We’ve just learned that most men don’tappreciate that.”

Olivier laughed.  “Isn’t that thedamned truth.”

Roy watched Alex cry more and damnednear squeeze Rebecca to death and she laughed and squeezed him back. They made their way to the dance floor, happy newlyweds, overcomingthe odds and looking at a bright future.  He looked to his own dateand said, “Want to dance?”

Riza took his hand and followed him tothe dance floor and was pleasantly surprised he was a good dancer. “Well, now that Rebecca is retiring I should be looking for a newdance partner.  You’re not bad. “

“I sing too.”  He said and shecocked an eyebrow.  “Not sure I can manage the high heels andacrobatics of dancing on a moving bar though. ”

“I’ll start you out slow and work youup to it.”  She promised.  

“Actually I was thinking that I mighthave enough work to add a partner to my detective agency.”  He saidand she looked at him surprised, as if she really wasn’t accustomedto anyone valuing her for her intelligence.  He was going to have tochange that.  “I like what I see, Miss Hawkeye, you are quite thestrategist.”

“Maybe we can do both.” She said. “Does your schedule allow for evenings off?”

“If they’re with you, absolutely.”

“And if I’m dancing at the Grand?” She asked.  “Would that be a problem for you?  Knowing a girlyou’re seeing is being seen by all those men doing shows like I do?”

“If it makes you happy and it’s whatyou want, I would never dream of asking you to stop.” He replied.“But I’ve mentioned before it’s a little above my social status andI’d prefer you not go where I can’t follow.

“Are you real, Mr. Mustang?” Sheasked repeating a question he posed to her on the train. “Beautifuland smart and…athletic.  I’m rather impressed with how well youmove your hips.”

Roy bit his lip and tried to not makeanother dick joke.   It was, however, becoming their 'thing’.  “Itcomes in handy, as a dick, when you need to slip in places.”

“Is that a requirement for yourprofession?”  She smiled and he had the most adorable grin on hisface.   They were both trying to not laugh.  “Enter tightspots….”

Roy finally laughed and she joined himwith the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard.  She moved closer tohim to put her head on his shoulder to try and press back tears andhe wrapped his arms around her to hold her close and enjoy thecontact.  He looked over and saw Hughes snapping pictures of them andhe gave the man a smile and received an approving thumbs up inresponse.  “Let’s enjoy the weekend together and figure out therest on the train home on Sunday.  Sound good?”

She picked her head up and gave him awarm smile and then leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, thena soft kiss on the lips when she remembers he was barely consciousthe last time.  “Sounds perfect.”

[thecoroutfitters]

Experts agree that Harvey was NOT your grand-daddy’s typical Hurricane.

This mega mystery storm has meteorologists unnerved as to its strange formation and inexplicable, atypical pattern behavior which inspired some reporters like one from the New York Times to write an article entitled “Harvey, The Storm That Humans Helped Cause”.

An agenda based commentary derived from certain points of view from the global warming activists. But the article is a focus on the point that represents an important reality that too many of us are still apathetic about.

Something bad IS definitely happening to our atmospheric environment that is NOT natural and far from normal.

But some of us know the terrifying truth. It is important to start to prepare yourself because it’s not what you think, and new shocking evidence indicates that “Frankenstein” weather might be here to stay…

It All Started With God

Ever since the Almighty wiped out his creation of flawed disobedient humans with horrendous floods, weather manipulation was always a smoldering ember in the souls of following generations of even more flawed people who eventually desired to get around to playing god, themselves.

Weather manipulation became serious business after aircraft were invented and science had a better comprehension of the physics and chemistry of our atmosphere. After all, rain was essential to everyday life and prosperity.

Indian rain dances and praying were one thing, and shooting fireworks into the sky to stimulate the thunder gods for rain was another, but good old hard scientific genius always comes through if you’re persistent and have enough money.

The dark state powers took a great interest in weather manipulation. They saw GeoEngineering as a means to expand and sustain their growing world power base through its proprietary agenda based exploitation.

  This smart device will help you slash an excess of 70% off your power bill overnight…

  Weaponizing the Weather!

In WWII, Weather was a major battlefield factor. Had the allies or the enemy benefitted from satellite weather observations like we have today, the entire course of the war may have been different.

In Viet Nam heavy Monsoon clouds drifted over the country for weeks at a time. If they were to suddenly ‘dump their load’ at the time the enemy was bringing supplies down the Ho Chi Minh trail there would be major damage to their efforts because the trail would be so muddy that every soldier and piece of equipment would get irretrievably stuck and be sitting ducks for air strikes.

So the military tried something called “cloud seeding” on the trails to help make it rain just at the right time and place. Weather Weaponization science has been around a long time.

But nevermind warfare, what about weather as civilian population controls?

What if the people someday had enough of totalitarian rule and planned mass disruptive anti-government demonstrations to exercise their constitutional mandate to demand physical removal of the current regime and restore the Constitution? But the mass rallies were…CANCELED, due to extremely inclement weather? Because it was so dangerously cold, wet, and stormy you couldn’t even stand outside and hear yourself protest!

That would be far better than water cannons, tear gas, sound frequency devices, or frying your skin microwave weapons for crowd control. And you wouldn’t have to endanger your riot police or pay them overtime?

Fast forward to 2017 and ‘we’ve come a long way, Baby’ when it comes to weather manipulation.

We all know by now that about the only thing the government does well anymore is lying to the public. This is why most people don’t know about how advanced weather manipulation science has become. Serious details of it stay out of public reach under sanitation cover of military black projects.

And we finally realize that anytime government PTB gets an opportunity to politicize scientific technology to further their proprietary power agendas, they take full advantage and lie through their teeth about it.

Like the CIA recently saying to Congress “No, we don’t spy on our Citizens with NSA computer surveillance technology”…all the while collecting everything you privately say and do online and everywhere else,and storing it for future government ‘necessity’.

Even the FBI (no surprise there) lied to Representative Chavett’s face in a hearing not long ago about not maintaining a facial recognition base of all citizens! It looks like weather manipulation now might be fitting into the overall totalitarian program.

Video first seen on WeatherWar101.

The Great “Climate Change” Hoax

Notice I didn’t say global warming? That’s because we’re really not talking about that as a cause of anything of the magnitude we all may be in direct catastrophic experience of sooner than we want to believe. Even “climate change” is technically not adequate because all weather, by definition, IS climate change in and of itself, in its perpetual dynamics.

But pay attention closely now. The environmentalists and global warming proponents tend to believe that humans are a huge cause of our radically changing environments, particularly the alleged deleterious carbon “warming” of our average normal environment, thus the notion “global warming” which, by the way, is not supported by all scientists.

There’s an ongoing debate in the science community that if there really IS a climate situation where the average world temperature is warming up so rapidly that soon you’d be able to fry an egg on the top of your bald head, you should get huge amounts of verified scientific studies and comparisons and analysis to prove that beyond any doubt.

But that is simply not happening. Melting ice caps are a specious indicator because there’s a constant fluctuation in melting and freezing with glaciers over time in different regions.

While there are weather/climate events around the world that seem to be extreme, these are mostly isolated incidents in the bigger picture. And maybe something more insidious as we are starting to learn.

And one side of the scientific community claims to have proof that there’s barely any minor elevation of any significance in the world average temperature if you compare all the past data over the years? Which could just as easily lean back toward global cooling at some future time in the greater cosmic schema, given enough time.

As far as specific human cause examples sometimes affecting weather in certain parts of the world, this is correct to some extent.

Giant oil spills and heavy pollutions do have some effects on the relative environment, but these are not expanded enough to represent a major global change. And damages occur in specific local areas. Which can be cleaned and managed. While the rest of the world barely blinks.

Of course humans should always tread lightly when the risk of carelessly damaging our natural environment exists, but this planet has endured tens of thousands of years of humans and their destructive habits and barely frowned. It would take an unbelievable amount of human intervention to destroy the Earth.

And stupid humans who even try anything usually get a severe lesson in humility right up front. Ma Nature takes no prisoners. Most of our species would likely be extincted first, if we tried too hard to destroy the climate. Which leads us into the real deal here…

Know This or Die

Even if you don’t believe in global warming as a result of greenhouse gasses as the cause of anything, most of us would stipulate at least to some increase in adverse climate change. And, naturally (pun intended) the PTB want you to believe that.

All of us to some degree understand that orbit distances around the sun and the sun’s activity along with the Earth’s own roiling ocean currents, continental plate movements and volcanic disruption account for slow but often very different climate changes around the world.

But these take place gradually in the Earth’s greater time schema and eventually return to an average. And that’s how they hide their sinister agenda from you. The literally hide the details and manifestations of their GeoEngineering experiments in the clouds so nothing can easily be determined at first glance, especially if it remains secret military business.

When they sometimes get busted out, like in the videos here, with obvious outside proof of serious chemtrailing activities, HAARP, and weather systems far too suspicious to be normal, they quickly dismiss any nefarious content by making unverifiable statements like “oh, don’t worry about that”, it’s just some science experiments in Solar Radiation Management to help keep environment from getting too hot.

This creates the illusion that the government is trying to help make the nasty old climate changes more user friendly for the folks.

And “naturally”, we buy it like bacon and eggs at Sunday church brunch. Never accepting the fact that these lies couldn’t be farther from the truth. And that the death and destruction from radical weather changes is caused by THEM. That THEY are CAUSING the deleterious climate change with their intentional weather control experiments!

And if there IS any kind of general global warming anywhere, THEY are causing that, as well.

Will Trump “Weather” the Storm?

The political writing is on the wall with Trump’s insider government deep state enemies.

Anybody who can’t see that just doesn’t have their glasses on, or doesn’t care. He’s not part of their karma club. He doesn’t flow with the status quo. He’s gotta go!

The interesting coincidence is that if the deep state needed something huge to take down Trump’s presidency with, outside of the constant barrages of agenda based criminal investigations and fake news media attacks nitpicking and distracting his efficacy as POTUS, you couldn’t get a better tailor made event than a massive natural disaster.

This kind of event puts immense pressure on the administration and tests the endurance of the nation’s already strained nerves by causing a level of devastation that will usher in everything from draining Federal emergency disaster funds and requiring untold billions more to even start a clean up.

In the meantime, hundreds of thousands of intrepid Texans brave everything from food and clean water shortages to disease outbreaks to insurance companies refusing to pay, to even huge alligators loose in the vast new instant neighborhood swamplands! And there’s no end in sight to the multiplying problems and domino effects.

This storm completely upended this administration’s Make America Great Again (MAGA) platform. Trump already is forced to equivocate on previous issues he strongly supported like funding for the Border Wall and other financial changes his administration promised in view of the coming debt ceiling votes.

But now he’s challenged with out of control complications that could easily bring down any president, and certainly a vulnerable one like Trump already is?

Another coincidence is the area in which Harvey decided to hunker down and replicate the great flood. Because it’s no coincidence that Texas was the brass knuckles in a political bar room brawl for the election. And it was the Texas electoral college that provided the tipping point for Trump’s election?

If Trump makes one screw up in the Harvey relief effort–which will be greatly hoped for and facilitated by his enemies—during the process of the salvation of Texas, now, his future chances for winning his favorite vote state again are ‘Gone Girl’.

And the Leftist mainstream media will circle like voracious vultures to pick the bones of every single problem with the Harvey Recovery right up until Trump either quits from frustration or loses in 2020.

Also, Texas was the one state that always represented a thorn in dark state totalitarian agenda. They always thought they could take on any Federal government jackbooting by simply seceding from the Union if they had to. After all, they were bigger than several countries in the world. And they have self-reliant resources to where they could easily survive and even thrive without Federal association in their own sovereign, global economy?

But they certainly can’t thrive and are barely surviving now! In this unholy abyss of destruction and economic devastation. Which will be hurting Texas for years to come. No chance for any delusions of secession in the foreseeable future.

Those of us predisposed to intransigent denial might say “You can’t be serious, no government, not even an evil deep state totalitarian regime would risk their own innocent civilians’ lives by intentionally creating a dangerous weather environment to ensure future political success for their agenda?”

Oh really? You think that secret shadow governments who allow Big Pharma to inject deadly poisons for profits into millions of our bodies from cradle to the grave in the form of mandatory vaccinations, or send tens of thousands of our nation’s best and brightest young people to worthless foreign countries to bleed and die or come back mutilated beyond repair would care at all about relatively “minor” human storm casualties and misery by comparison?

Or let that ridiculous notion of “the value of human life” interfere with their plans when they are on the verge of creating environmental weapons systems that will make them “masters of the universe”?

Hell No! They’ll even USE humans as lab rats like they’ve often done in the past! Why not, the planet’s getting far too overpopulated anyway?

  Got your ‘glasses’ on yet?

There are very dark storm clouds forming on the horizon. It’s time we all should seriously start preparing.

The Earth will survive even if humans are a “cause’”of catastrophic weather control. But most humans won’t.

Maybe that’s the plan!

This article has been written by Mahatma Muhjesbude for Survivopedia.

from Survivopedia Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag

[firebunnylover]

Hannah Watches LOSH - Legacy

Legacy

We start off with Alexis testing/playing around with a mecha-suit she designed - as evident by the logo on it. Her robot, Woodhouse, asks if her method is necessary. To which she replies yes and goes diving off the building she’s on.

Due to reckless driving, she accidentally bashes the wings of the suit, and head to the ground. For Superman to catch.

I’m guessing that suit had a tracker, cuz Woodhouse was literally right there, ready to pick up Alexis. Leaving Superman with the suit and then cuts to the intro theme.

Is Lightning Lad part cat by any chance? Because that is a very cat like pose.

NO ONE CAN RIP ME AWAY FROM THE IDEA THAT PHANTOM GIRL IS BISEXUAL. LOOK SHE IS SCOUTING FOR A POSSIBLE FEMALE DATE. ND SHE KNOWS SUPERMAN HAS GOOD TASTE SO SHE WANTS FEEDBACK FROM HIM.

And then reveal on who Alexis is. Richest Girl in the Galaxy.

What have you done in the past Phantom Girl to be considered an expert. Tell.

And then we get Lightning Lad saying Alexis is out of Superman’s league, which Brainy – of course – rebuffs, saying that no one is out of Superman’s league.

So I’m going of a limb here and guess what a lot of people can just go to the front door of HQ, given that’s what Woodhouse did, to give an invitation to a Charity Event where Alexis will be at. Repaying the favor of saving her from a fate of a pancake.

And then B5 tells him that they were both scheduled for patrol, meaning schedule conflict.

Lightning Lad offers to cover, and asks Superman to see if Alexis has friends.

MY POOR SMART GREEN CHILD

But I’m siding with Phantom Girl. I refuse to read a report that’s 130-132 pages long. I don’t have the patience. Just give us the basics.

And he planned out the looking-out places to take Superman to, that’s cute.

But then when he see’s Superman expression, he says that the plan can be altered. And he sounds so sad.

And then we get another SupermanxBrainy moment

The way B5’s actions change after Superman promises to spend time with him later, it’s so cute~

At the party, B5 is basically the person who keeps texting you when they really shouldn’t be. Much to Superman’s annoyance.

When one of the guys at the party begins to make fun of Superman, in a manner that could be compared to the jock we saw in our first episode, Alexis delivers one of the harshest burns of all time. So harsh the dude had to go off to apply water immediately rather than wait for her to leave.

Bailing the party early, Alexis takes Superman to her building – which she is not supposed to be at unsupervised. And she stole a dude’s bike. Which Woodhouse just gives money to.

Also, she mentioned that the top ten floors look good as new, after saying that an experiment had some problems.

And she has a bunch of robots that just immediately come to her, like pets. Which is cute. And then you think to hard about what a lot of robots but no people implies, like I did. More on that at the end.

Alexis and Superman do some bonding on the overbearing expectations that others have due to Legacy.

They should form a club with Steven Universe. They would get along.

She also confides that she doesn’t have any real goals in her life, wanting to just mess around with her robots and have friends, which she admits she sucks at making.

And we finally see the scavengers.

And more grumpy-Brainy over the fact no one read his report.

I bet it’s been very long for Superman for just relaxing and playing games with another person to the extent he did with Alexis.  Legion is too busy to take much time off for that sort of stuff, and they must be ready to go any time. And before then, he was a wallflower due to not being able to deal with his powers in the same way he can now. So, this is probably what he wanted for possibly several years.

Which leads to making this next bit even sadder.

At the point where the team is desperate, where Lightning Lad says it might be a good time to call him, he doesn’t answer.

Which lead to the part that destroyed some B5 fans figuratively, and B5 partially.

This took the longest to make a gif that i can put here. it looked so much better on photoshop.

Ironically, when I first saw this episode – this was the second episode of LoSH I watched when I first saw the series, and it was on a rerun – this part is what made B5 a cartoon crush.

I have a bad habit of wanting my favorite characters to suffer.

Later, we see that B5’s body can repair itself, but it takes a while.

Phantom Girl seems to immediately grasp what happened from Superman.

GOD BRAINY YOU JEALOUS?!

Also I like how B5 and Lightning Lad are just in sync at this part.

Oh it’s like when a friend buys tickets for that event thing for that series/fandom they’re super hyped about and invite you and you know squat about it.

And B5 is like that one person who hates that other fandom.

WOW. THAT’S PEARL LEVEL SALT.

So upon Superman explaining, Alexis takes it pretty well at first, trying to set a limit on how long they’ll hang out. But later we see that she gets carried away. Too carried away. To the point where Superman has to leave in a way that leaves both of them upset.

Back with the green bean, we find out he missed patrol again. Good god, if that was me I would straight up be panicking.

“Oh no…”

But in other news, green bean is salty.

And we know our beloved Puppy is on Rimbor. I hope puppy is coping well in this episode.

Woodhouse calls in to say that Alexis is in trouble, Superman tries to appease Brainy by saying it should be passed on to the Science Police. Phantom Girl seems like she expects B5 to insist on that, but to her surprise, Brainy tells Superman to go. While delivering a reminder to keep the communicator on.

I just love her expression here.

NO SQUEAKY TOY ROBOT!

And then comes the reveal that Alexis faked being in an emergency. Which Superman does not take very happily. And rightfully so, given that he’s supposed to protect people.

But then comes an interesting part to me that said something about Alexis.

Ok let’s lay things out. She got really upset that Superman left her, and she impulsively did something that she knew would get him to come, without thinking it through. She didn’t plan it out through, or at least the bit when Superman found out.

I had a recent discussion with a friend who requested to remain anonymous about what this suggests, which I’ll discuss further down below in character. Cuz if I start here, it’ll take forever for me to finish.

He clearly states that his team mates need him while she just wants a friend. She responds that what she wants is more important.

Seeing that he’s picking the Legion over her, she makes another impulsive decision. Helping the Scavengers.

Alexis then provides a decoy to get Superman to leave the HQ while she and the Scavengers attack.

BRAINY WHAT IS YOUR BODY EVEN DOING?

PFFT

During the fight, we see Lightning Lad isn’t afraid to electrocute people with water. Taking it a little far dude. And Saturn Girl is strong enough to smash metal.

I would feel more horrified about B5’s lab if I didn’t already figure he blows it up all the time.

NINJA BRAINY

Upon returning, Superman is pretty much pissed while Alexis just casually says “HEY!”

“Didn’t think this through, did we?”

Oof. Alexis’ weakness summed up.

“I guess I got a little carried away.”

“YA THINK?!

Unfortunately, Alexis lack of a backup plan leads to her getting caught in her mecha-suit exploding, leading to her hair falling out.

With our first look at Talkron Galtos, we see she manages to repair Woodhouse’s head so that he’s functioning enough to talk to her, where she discloses to him that she knows what she wants to do with her life, and the carving into her desk is enough to imply what that is.

So final thoughts on the episode overall.

Ironically, the episode before had a happier ending than this one. It goes from the tone of the more cheery episodes like Man of Tomorrow to ending in a tone we would expect in episodes like Timber Wolf.

It starts off with Superman finding some companionship in someone outside the Legion and wants to interact with him outside work. And it ends with him having to stop that person from hurting his friends. That isn’t going to be easy to swallow for him.

What’s adds to the tragedy of it all is that if they had found a way around it, Alexis could have been friends with Superman, and maybe with the Legion as well. But she made major errors on her part, as did Superman. Ditching her abruptly probably isn’t the best way to say bye to a friend – he probably could have invited her over to HQ instead. And storming off after finding out she pulled a stunt to get him to come isn’t the best reaction either.

Brainiac 5 was interesting to watch as well. NOT INCLUDING THE ARM INCIDENT. He probably sees Superman as this flawless being at the beginning, saying no one is out of his league, but what happens? He realizes Superman isn’t flawless. He realizes Superman will mess up every now and then.

Something I never noticed before but did this time is the parallels between Alexis and Brainiac 5. Both characters descendants of enemies of Superman, carrying their legacy. Both are genius inventors. Both aren’t the best at socializing. Both try to adjust to sharing time with Superman at first. Both fail with the adjustment, and both get upset. Both blame the other party for stealing Superman away in some degree.

The most noticeable difference is how they handled it.

Brainiac 5 realizes that Superman cares about Alexis, and that he also still cares about the Legion. He knows he can’t have Superman to himself naturally, as the guy cares too much, so he lets him go to Alexis when it seems like she needs him, but tells him to stay in contact.

Alexis didn’t. She didn’t think things through as she manipulated the situation so Superman would come to her. And when that failed, she decided that her only option was to get rid of the legion.

Speaking of Alexis, let’s take a better look at her.

Ho boy. Starts off as potential friend and ends as confirmed threat. But why? Well, I was watching this episode about a month ago, and I noticed something in her office that unsettled me.

She is surrounded by robots and toys. But nothing to speak for any interpersonal relationships. Nothing on family or peers. She’s isolated. Which led me to think that maybe Woodhouse raised her, along with possibly other programmed beings. Her best way to connect to him is with robots and building stuff, leading to further lack of social interaction. What that suggests is that she ended up having social development problems. She can’t connect to others well, as we see at the party.

But Superman showed signs to her that he cared about her. He was probably the first organic thing to care in a long time. So what happens? She latches on, and isn’t ready for being told he can’t be with her, and can’t understand that a line has been crossed.

As for the impulsive behavior, I had discussed it with another friend who requested to remain anonymous. They suggested that Alexis has, possibly, bipolar disorder, which is either undiagnosed or not getting treated.

Now before I continue, I know that media and mental disorders do not have a good relationship, with disorders getting portrayed horribly, usually by the antagonists. But the friend I discussed this has been diagnosed for being bipolar, so I ran this by them several times before posting. I’ll try to discuss this part carefully. But if you feel that I said anything wrong regarding this subject, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

There are several types of bipolar disorder, but it’s essentially an extreme change in mood, thought, and behavior, with highs/mania, and lows/depression, with the change lasting different ranges of time. A less extreme case of mania is called hypomania.

Mania episodes vary people to people, but symptoms include:

Abnormally upbeat, jumpy or wired

Increased activity, energy or agitation

Exaggerated sense of well-being and self-confidence (euphoria)

Decreased need for sleep

Unusual talkativeness

Racing thoughts

Easily distracted

Poor decision-making

Reckless behavior

Being agitated/irritable

Alexis is upbeat, active, talkative, easily distracted as seen when she and Superman were going around to different places and she lost track of time, has poor decision making and is reckless in this episode. So arguably, she is having a manic episode when this episode. But given we just met her, it’s hard to immediately say that’s the case since we haven’t seen if she’s always like this or not.

My friend said that bipolar disorder sometimes leads to negative emotions making you feel frustrated/angry/sad and you do more destructive things.

So when Superman stops hanging, she makes the reckless decision to trick him into coming, not thinking about what will happen afterwards. And this repeats when she sees him picking the Legion over her.

If you’re interested in reading more about bipolar disorder, here’s a good source that my friend gave the thumbs up for.

Still, Alexis had little comprehension on how she should have proceeded to avoid what happened. But there are signs she needed help.

And no signs of her getting that help soon.

Characters in this episode:

Ho boy. Superman did not have it easy. This episode probably left him in a worst place than where it started. But I like how he tried to balance things out between Alexis and the Legion at first. And when he finally gets to unwind fully, stuff happens that forces him to prioritize one over the other. Poor guy.

Brainiac 5 – we see more signs of the crush once again. But also a lot of bitterness. He wasn’t happy to being made second priority in the episode, but he manages to put his own wants aside.  And the bit about the report was also funny. But what size was the font? Double sided or one sided? Very important questions.

Phantom Girl’s sass was wonderful to watch once again, and seeing her on the possible look out for a girlfriend just makes me so friggin happy. And she seemed a bit more understanding towards Superman’s situation. Well, given she’s also defined as an expert at the act of “Privileged but misunderstood”, she has expectations as well. Probably not as overbearing as Superman’s but still notable.

Lightning Lad didn’t have any run ins with karma in this episode. The only time he got beat down was towards the end with Alexis, and that was just regular fighting. He still teased Superman at times, but nothing too harsh. And he is protective of Brainy, as seen as he lets the Scavengers have it big time after the arm incident.

Saturn Girl is shown to be very good at hand-to-hand combat, and is very strong. I hear she’s shredded and has an eight pack.

The Scavengers were bland to say the least. We didn’t see them a lot, but maybe if their designs varied more between them, I would have found them more interesting.

Alexis Luthor is another fascinating character to play role of the villain, although I’m not sure if I’d define her as 100% villain in this episode. She wasn’t manipulative in the sense Dr. Londo was, and did seem to care for Woodhouse enough to repair him so that he was aware of what was going on, and really wanted to spend time with Superman as friends. This was her origin story for her villain arc. And it’s very good.

[pinksweatergettingbetter]

MAYA I TRUSTED YOU

WHAT WOULD WILL POWERS SAY

ok he'd probably be like ‘hehe; guess I'm falling further into obscurity thats cool i was never amazing in the first place’

-

“theres only one!”

...that is rare

-

“i traded my watch to my kooraheenese friend! it plays the steel samurai theme when it goes off!”

I SMELL A CHEKOVS GUN

-

“it sounds just like the steel samurai theme”

“no it doesn't!”

mayas right, it doesn't sound like the steel samurai's theme. 

it sounds BAD.

seriously i feel like my soul is physically rejecting it 

-

put your arms akimbo at me again young lady and ill push you into your magic soul pool.

-

“that whole séance thing makes trials completely different”

meh

speaking of trials, we’re back to trials! ya–– i dont want to deal with nahyuta

-

“you have to pitch your terrible crossover!! i won't let you down”

as much as i disapprove of the crossover let it be known that phoenix is a sweetie pie.

-

“The sacred murder dagger was used to murder someone?!?!??! BLASPHEMY!!!”

-

“The lowest level of hell; the Hell of Tickling” IM KINKSHAMING KOOORAHEENISM

-

“They shall not escape on their /redtext/ Freedom Express today!”

she did it yaaaaayy!

-

U R DIARHOEA!!! KOORAHEEN!!!

well i

i cant argue....

-

oh god no t voice acting again

-

LOL YOU CAN SKIP IT AHAHHAHHA

AND THE DANCE TOO HJDSJSFAKJ

guess its not *that* important eh

-

the entire court just called phoenix a shithead. 

i mean people say “Polkhunka” when theyre surprised, and the term is “polkhunan”. so yeah. either hellion, or shithead. nice.

-

phoenix: this makes no sense 

me: ooh i cant wait for the bullshit excuse!! 

-

Well ill be damned to tickle-hell. Rayfa’s a television aerial. 

-

oh i see how they did that. i guess spirit visions have steady-cam?

-

.........he ran right into it

dude why 

-

i just love this. “yes he ran directly at the killer, to fight them! with his arms flailing in terror!! it might look stupid and fake but actually it’s kooraheen’s biggest martial art, RonDeliteFu!”

-

every time Rayfa does her hand-flinging-out pose i mistake her sash for a stick and i keep thinking she’s a muppet 

-

“we can’t let the special fires go out, so we make sure to remove the glass around them every year on top of a window mountain so that a woman can um...... walk around it i guess.”

-

i hate to admit it but these stupid pond vision things are really stumping my blind ass

-

i stg pohlkunka is the stupidest sounding made-up expletive ive ever heard

id rather heard cowabunga every time something shocking happens for godssakes

-

“wow he really does care about ema”

hey show dont tell lol

“i cant believe he's come to understand their value”

uhhh well

they stated that they still hold investigations despite their magic pool parties, so uhhhhhhh yeah???? forensic investigators are usually pretty helpful??

-

since Sadmad’s catchphrase appears to be ‘putrid’, i keep reading ‘purification rite’ as ‘putrification rite’

-

i cant believe they did a “what if... (EXTREME CLOSE UP ZOOM) PLOT TWIST?!”

-

STOP SAYING PUTRID

-

oh hey its dirty hobo man! ...also i guess the ‘sexy pan up shot’ is for every new character :/

-

hobo rangers go...

-

...Nahyuta named him A’nohn Ihmus. A’nohn Ihmus.

Well that just cements my idea that Kooraheenians are just a bunch of Americans that stole a landmass and made up a phony baloney culture. 

It has been confirmed that they are legitimately just taking english words and ‘kooraheenifying’ them.

-

“i used my binoculars to spy on the rite at the inner sanctum”

A’nohn is just as perverted as his namesake from Tuhmbl’r

-

“Feh. I knew you were a fool...” 

Cue Franziska crashing her plane into the court room to yank on Sadmad’s braid to scold him for taking her word.

-

“shall be reborn as a witless sea urchin with barbs limited to your posterior”

ok well sadmad, sea urchins asses are next to their mouths... on the bottom of them. completely opposite to the, uh, you know. Spiky part.

So I’m not sure if that serves to strengthen your point or just make you look like a moron

i mean i guess it served to enhance sadmad’s point since phoenix’d be totally smooth and unprotected, but then he wouldn’t even reach adulthood so that sea otter wouldn’t come in too early and...

...he just said phoenix will be reborn as not only mentally slow but also physically deformed.

...uh... nice one, sadmad.

-

AND MAYA PULLED A REACHAROUND ON THE PRIEST 

YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST FROM THE HOLY MONK, GUYS

-

to be fair, she could have stabbed him with a reverse-grip or not; one doesn’t have to hold their hand at any particular to perform a reach around 

-

oh well at least the contradiction is incredibly obvious 

-

at least hobo ranger has an excuse to use words like “bucko”

-

i hate that,,,, theres a rule against climbing the mountains during the rite. that means that there have been perverts of yore who tried to spy on the lady changing 

-

hes gonna see her shad–– (sigh)

yknow, i dont think shadows are detailed enough to know which way someone is holding a knife.

also moonlight isn't that bright 

-

DWAAYYYYMMMN

sasquatch’d!!

-

ok so... does happiraki mean “hello” or “hooray!” because its been used it both contexts 

-

i just realized that the Plumed Punisher theme song sounds like one of those posts where someone takes a recognizable song and fucks with it in a silly way, like pitch shifting it at awkward moments or changing the key

-

i cannot believe i have to use a fucking walkthrough for this game. I'm disgusted with myself. I'm better than this.

-

“no one was allowed in there and the only way up were the stairs!”

ah yes, the unguarded stairs surrounded by people who had their heads down. in prayer.

totally impenetrable. 

-

“What?! This is insane!!” no no, phoenix, youre doing it wrong. you have to say “this”, then sadmad has to say “is” and then the judge has to yell “insaaaaane!!” because its funny when one person says one word of a sentence each!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-

‘rah rah sis boom bah, fight, fight, phoenix wright!!”

um excuse me maya who gave you the right to be cute

-

why does sadmad only have one hand-guard-glove thingy

-

“my bag of bluffs” is an interesting and long way to say “ass”

-

they put... a maximum security prison... on top of their holy mountain. they put their criminals... on top of their. holy mountain.

they put a jail. in a church. in fact they put it higher up... closer to... god. 

what the fuck. the fourth one. only accessible by helicopter.

who was smoking what when they decided this???

-

(sigh) mmmmm id been waiting to use that patchwork quilt

-

“hell of hangnails”

not as fetishy but still pretty–– actually you know what that sounds kinda fucked up. isn't that just kinda G rated torture anyway 

-

wow that incredibly obvious lie deserves the terrible pursuit theme??

maybe its the last one (i hope)

-

“are you the rebel hunter!!??!?!?!??”

um well no, unless the rebel hunter is a criminal. jackass.

-

...cutting dirty deals with criminals, are we, sadmad?

-

“haha, the fact that the third person at the scene was a wanted criminal destroys your theory that it was the rebel hunter Keera that killed the high priest!!”

...wow... gosh i was wrong... and the fact that a wanted criminal was actually at the scene... doesn’t help me at all... because once i said that one person didi it, it couldn’t possibly be someone else... oh no... i guess it was Maya who did it... for reals... not the.... wanted criminal....

-

...hang on, his little power rangers dance was the defiant dragons dance? how... did nobody notice this?? sadmad really was colluding with criminals wasn’t he. gosh. what a trustworthy guy.

-

phoenix: oh no!! his testimony was a lie!!

oh no! the testimony that did nothing but damage your case was a lie!!! 

??????

-

sadmad: get him!

hobo ranger: (does a little hop and daintily scurries off)

sadmad: ... (takes a good five leisurely seconds to stop the background music) put everyone on high alert. i want everyone after that guy

that guy who just. skipped out of a courtroom. past hundreds of crazy people and several bailiffs. 

haha... the kooraheenes police. to quote phelous... THEY’RE THE BEST!

-

“what was the point of all that, anyway?”

search me, phoenix.

“well, i cant help but feel that entire episode was an enormous waste of time”

hey capcom? hanging a lampshade on it doesn’t make it better. it just amplifies how much it sucks.

-

“yes! i recognized that piece of paper because it looks exactly like the piece i have! thats covered in blood and unrecognizable!!!”

...nice

OH AND ITS THE PERFECT FIT TO COVER THE BLOODSTAIN WELL ISNT THAT JUST FUCKIN SERENDIPITOUS 

-

“the ignorant lawyer has not bothered to learn out language??”

well A) he's not an international attorney, B) he was on vacation, not studying abroad, and C) fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. you’re all speaking english all the time anyway, you bunch of fuckin phoneys 

-

i stg sadmad if you say putrid one more time i’ll cram a rotten egg down your pasty white gullet and show you the meaning of the word 

-

“the criminal could have only escaped if the high priest helped him out, so why would he kill him?”

hey sadmad? remember that thing about using your putrid brain? yeah, doesn’t take too big a leap to realize that you might’ve just proved phoenix’s ‘idiot theory’ right. maybe the priest um... was a rebel??? who was going to do just that??? and the rebel killer offed his sorry ass?

perhaps, o foolish prosecutor, you should think before you open your rancid lips... lo, in your ignorance, you will be cast down to the hell of those who are kind of stupid....... the hell of perpetual fart smell. there you shall inhale the decomposing winds of ten thousand and one accursed mihtama, while fart fetishists gaze on in envy... 

oh wow i didnt even need to go on that spiel, he just admitted it straight up. but yeah, apparently when Lady Kee’ra impersonator kills a rebel, it’s A-OK. But when Maya kills a rebel, well, fuck, she’s a foreign bitch, execute her!!

also the way he said it seems to imply that he knew all along so uh

maybe people should start suspecting this guy. he seems to... know a lot of rebel criminals.

-

every time sadmad shakes his head i wanna break his neck

man i remember being annoyed at edgeworth in the first game and wanting to hop my desk and rough him up, but never wanting to physically maim or kill him. you suck, sadmad. 

-

WE GOT IT, FOLKS!! WE GOT THE ASSAULT!! IT’S UM, IT’S SUPERNATURAL FORCE ASSAULT THIS TIME. 

FUCK BIRDS AND SWORDS, I GUESS? ACTUAL MAGIC IS THE WAY TO GO?

hey sadmad; tickling? bondage? can we... keep that out of the courtroom please?

also “oh no! i can’t point my finger!!” phoenix cries, forgetting that he has two arms. i guess capcom won’t spring for more than one sprite tho haha

-

“the keera we saw was the statue draped in the sacred robes!”

with a... knife sticking out, apparently. ok..?

also gosh, maya’s really fast, tiptoeing around the abbot, draping the costume just so, then tiptoeing back around? like lightning she is!!

-

he just cut off his own theme song.

-

“she used her fiendish tricks to fool the court room”

which didn’t work at all if you remember the beginning of this court so fuck you?

-

“she sought to use the divination seance to mislead us!”

good going, pointing out an absolutely massive flaw in your country’s legal system, sadmad.

-

i cant believe we had a flashback for absolutely no other reason than Sadmad to gloat. I FILE FOR A MISTRIAL ON GROUNDS OF MISUSE OF FLASHBACKS.

-

please oh god just let it end i dont have enough space in my stomach for any more ulcers

i can’t stand hearing him say let it go one more time please I'm begging you

-

oh no... phoenix has failed... he’s going to die... it’s really going to happen...

just get to the surprise witness or whatever already

-

oh thank god. love you, headband guy

-

“the dagger bears the finger prints of maya fey!”

wow. the police suck major ass at catching running people, but their finger print checking speed is second-to-none. ...either that or they waited a while before telling people about a dead body.......

-

oh gosh!!! its totally maya!!! she arrived 2 years ago and so did lady keera and 

yeah no. it’s not her. 

but even if it was, kinda awkward there, sadmad? she’s um. kind of a hero to you.

-

i dont get it why is everyone freaking out. i thought the keera impersonator was considered some kind of vigilante hero? why is it suddenly bad when they “find out” it’s maya? is it because she isn't kooraheenees?

I'm honestly really confused. everyone was rooting for the masked defender one moment, but now that its maya, it’s murder?? 

seriously what the fuck. like the gallery was legit going “ah!! lady keera has come back to save us from the rebels!”

and then its like “its not divine its some foreign bitch in a cloak” and now its like SERIAL KILLER. also, nice. we’ve never been allowed another day in court because there was a second charge racked up. awesome. (with the possible exception of Ron Delite, tho he was changing his charge)

-

sadmad can go choke on his own braid and the gallery can lick their own hypocritical asses. i can’t believe i stayed up till 2 am to finish this section.

[didanawisgi]

On Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs

Context:

Book Excerpt; Grossman, D., with Christensen, L., On Combat: The Psychology and Physiology of Deadly Conflict in War and in Peace, WSG Research Publications, 2004.

​Reprinted countless times. Feel free to distribute as long as you attribute Lt. Col. Dave Grossman as the author and that it is an excerpt from his book, On Combat.

On Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs (From the book, On Combat, by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman)

“Honor never grows old, and honor rejoices the heart of age. It does so because honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve defending, even if it comes at a high cost. In our time, that may mean social disapproval, public scorn, hardship, persecution, or as always, even death itself. The question remains: What is worth defending? What is worth dying for? What is worth living for?” - William J. Bennett In a lecture to the United States Naval Academy November 24, 1997

“One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: “Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident.” This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another. Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million. Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep. I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me it is like the pretty, blue robin’s egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators. “Then there are the wolves,” the old war veteran said, “and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy.” Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial. “Then there are sheepdogs,” he went on, “and I’m a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf.” Or, as a sign in one California law enforcement agency put it, “We intimidate those who intimidate others.” If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen: a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath–a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? Then you are a sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero’s path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed. The gift of aggression

“What goes on around you… compares little with what goes on inside you.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Everyone has been given a gift in life. Some people have a gift for science and some have a flair for art. And warriors have been given the gift of aggression. They would no more misuse this gift than a doctor would misuse his healing arts, but they yearn for the opportunity to use their gift to help others. These people, the ones who have been blessed with the gift of aggression and a love for others, are our sheepdogs. These are our warriors. One career police officer wrote to me about this after attending one of my Bulletproof Mind training sessions: “I want to say thank you for finally shedding some light on why it is that I can do what I do. I always knew why I did it. I love my [citizens], even the bad ones, and had a talent that I could return to my community. I just couldn’t put my finger on why I could wade through the chaos, the gore, the sadness, if given a chance try to make it all better, and walk right out the other side.” Let me expand on this old soldier’s excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial; that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids’ schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid’s school. Our children are dozens of times more likely to be killed, and thousands of times more likely to be seriously injured, by school violence than by school fires, but the sheep’s only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their children is just too hard, so they choose the path of denial. The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheepdog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours. Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn’t tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports in camouflage fatigues holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, “Baa.” Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog. As Kipling said in his poem about “Tommy” the British soldier:

While it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, fall be'ind,” But it’s “Please to walk in front, sir,” when there’s trouble in the wind, There’s trouble in the wind, my boys, there’s trouble in the wind, O it’s “Please to walk in front, sir,” when there’s trouble in the wind.

The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door. Look at what happened after September 11, 2001, when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero? Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed right along with the young ones. Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, “Thank God I wasn’t on one of those planes.” The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, “Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference.” When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference. While there is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, he does have one real advantage. Only one. He is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population. There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory acts of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself. However, when there were cues given by potential victims that indicated they would not go easily, the cons said that they would walk away. If the cons sensed that the target was a “counter-predator,” that is, a sheepdog, they would leave him alone unless there was no other choice but to engage. One police officer told me that he rode a commuter train to work each day. One day, as was his usual, he was standing in the crowded car, dressed in blue jeans, T-shirt and jacket, holding onto a pole and reading a paperback. At one of the stops, two street toughs boarded, shouting and cursing and doing every obnoxious thing possible to intimidate the other riders. The officer continued to read his book, though he kept a watchful eye on the two punks as they strolled along the aisle making comments to female passengers, and banging shoulders with men as they passed. As they approached the officer, he lowered his novel and made eye contact with them. “You got a problem, man?” one of the IQ-challenged punks asked. “You think you’re tough, or somethin’?” the other asked, obviously offended that this one was not shirking away from them. “As a matter of fact, I am tough,” the officer said, calmly and with a steady gaze. The two looked at him for a long moment, and then without saying a word, turned and moved back down the aisle to continue their taunting of the other passengers, the sheep. Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I’m proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs. Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, “Let’s roll,” which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers–athletes, business people and parents–from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground. “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”

“There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men.” - Edmund Burke Reflections on the Revolution in France

Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn’t have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision.

If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior’s path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door. For example, many officers carry their weapons in church. They are well concealed in ankle holsters, shoulder holsters or inside-the-belt holsters tucked into the small of their backs. Anytime you go to some form of religious service, there is a very good chance that a police officer in your congregation is carrying. You will never know if there is such an individual in your place of worship, until the wolf appears to slaughter you and your loved ones. I was training a group of police officers in Texas, and during the break, one officer asked his friend if he carried his weapon in church. The other cop replied, “I will never be caught without my gun in church.” I asked why he felt so strongly about this, and he told me about a police officer he knew who was at a church massacre in Ft. Worth, Texas, in 1999. In that incident, a mentally deranged individual came into the church and opened fire, gunning down 14 people. He said that officer believed he could have saved every life that day if he had been carrying his gun. His own son was shot, and all he could do was throw himself on the boy’s body and wait to die. That cop looked me in the eye and said, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?” Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for “heads to roll” if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids’ school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them. Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones were attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?” The warrior must cleanse denial from his thinking. Coach Bob Lindsey, a renowned law enforcement trainer, says that warriors must practice “when/then” thinking, not “if/when.” Instead of saying,“If it happens then I will take action,” the warrior says, “When it happens then I will be ready.” It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up. Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: You didn’t bring your gun; you didn’t train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy. Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by fear, helplessness, horror and shame at your moment of truth. Chuck Yeager, the famous test pilot and first man to fly faster than the speed of sound, says that he knew he could die. There was no denial for him. He did not allow himself the luxury of denial. This acceptance of reality can cause fear, but it is a healthy, controlled fear that will keep you alive:

“I was always afraid of dying. Always. It was my fear that made me learn everything I could about my airplane and my emergency equipment, and kept me flying respectful of my machine and always alert in the cockpit.” - Brigadier General Chuck Yeager Yeager, An Autobiography

Gavin de Becker puts it like this in Fear Less, his superb post-9/11 book, which should be required reading for anyone trying to come to terms with our current world situation:

“..denial can be seductive, but it has an insidious side effect. For all the peace of mind deniers think they get by saying it isn’t so, the fall they take when faced with new violence is all the more unsettling. Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level.”

And so the warrior must strive to confront denial in all aspects of his life, and prepare himself for the day when evil comes. If you are a warrior who is legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that the bad man will not come today. No one can be “on” 24/7 for a lifetime. Everyone needs down time. But if you are authorized to carry a weapon, and you walk outside without it, just take a deep breath, and say this to yourself… “Baa.” This business of being a sheep or a sheepdog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-grass sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. The degree to which you move up that continuum, away from sheephood and denial, is the degree to which you and your loved ones will survive, physically and psychologically at your moment of truth.”

[didanawisgi]

Context:

Book Excerpt; Grossman, D., with Christensen, L., On Combat: The Psychology and Physiology of Deadly Conflict in War and in Peace, WSG Research Publications, 2004.

​Reprinted countless times. Feel free to distribute as long as you attribute Lt. Col. Dave Grossman as the author and that it is an excerpt from his book, On Combat.

On Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs (From the book, On Combat, by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman)

"Honor never grows old, and honor rejoices the heart of age. It does so because honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve defending, even if it comes at a high cost. In our time, that may mean social disapproval, public scorn, hardship, persecution, or as always, even death itself. The question remains: What is worth defending? What is worth dying for? What is worth living for?" - William J. Bennett  In a lecture to the United States Naval Academy  November 24, 1997

“One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: “Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident.” This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another. Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million. Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep. I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me it is like the pretty, blue robin’s egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators. “Then there are the wolves,” the old war veteran said, “and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy.” Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial. “Then there are sheepdogs,” he went on, “and I’m a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf.” Or, as a sign in one California law enforcement agency put it, “We intimidate those who intimidate others.” If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen: a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath--a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? Then you are a sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero’s path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed. The gift of aggression

"What goes on around you... compares little with what goes on inside you." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Everyone has been given a gift in life. Some people have a gift for science and some have a flair for art. And warriors have been given the gift of aggression. They would no more misuse this gift than a doctor would misuse his healing arts, but they yearn for the opportunity to use their gift to help others. These people, the ones who have been blessed with the gift of aggression and a love for others, are our sheepdogs. These are our warriors. One career police officer wrote to me about this after attending one of my Bulletproof Mind training sessions: "I want to say thank you for finally shedding some light on why it is that I can do what I do. I always knew why I did it. I love my [citizens], even the bad ones, and had a talent that I could return to my community. I just couldn’t put my finger on why I could wade through the chaos, the gore, the sadness, if given a chance try to make it all better, and walk right out the other side." Let me expand on this old soldier’s excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial; that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids’ schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid’s school. Our children are dozens of times more likely to be killed, and thousands of times more likely to be seriously injured, by school violence than by school fires, but the sheep’s only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their children is just too hard, so they choose the path of denial. The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheepdog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours. Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn’t tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports in camouflage fatigues holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, “Baa.” Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog. As Kipling said in his poem about “Tommy” the British soldier:

While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind," But it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind, There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind, O it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind.

The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door. Look at what happened after September 11, 2001, when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero? Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed right along with the young ones. Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, “Thank God I wasn’t on one of those planes.” The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, “Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference.” When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference. While there is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, he does have one real advantage. Only one. He is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population. There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory acts of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself. However, when there were cues given by potential victims that indicated they would not go easily, the cons said that they would walk away. If the cons sensed that the target was a "counter-predator," that is, a sheepdog, they would leave him alone unless there was no other choice but to engage. One police officer told me that he rode a commuter train to work each day. One day, as was his usual, he was standing in the crowded car, dressed in blue jeans, T-shirt and jacket, holding onto a pole and reading a paperback. At one of the stops, two street toughs boarded, shouting and cursing and doing every obnoxious thing possible to intimidate the other riders. The officer continued to read his book, though he kept a watchful eye on the two punks as they strolled along the aisle making comments to female passengers, and banging shoulders with men as they passed. As they approached the officer, he lowered his novel and made eye contact with them. “You got a problem, man?” one of the IQ-challenged punks asked. “You think you’re tough, or somethin’?” the other asked, obviously offended that this one was not shirking away from them. “As a matter of fact, I am tough,” the officer said, calmly and with a steady gaze. The two looked at him for a long moment, and then without saying a word, turned and moved back down the aisle to continue their taunting of the other passengers, the sheep. Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I’m proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs. Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, “Let’s roll,” which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers--athletes, business people and parents--from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground. “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”

"There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men." - Edmund Burke  Reflections on the Revolution in France

Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn’t have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision.

If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior’s path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door. For example, many officers carry their weapons in church. They are well concealed in ankle holsters, shoulder holsters or inside-the-belt holsters tucked into the small of their backs. Anytime you go to some form of religious service, there is a very good chance that a police officer in your congregation is carrying. You will never know if there is such an individual in your place of worship, until the wolf appears to slaughter you and your loved ones. I was training a group of police officers in Texas, and during the break, one officer asked his friend if he carried his weapon in church. The other cop replied, “I will never be caught without my gun in church.” I asked why he felt so strongly about this, and he told me about a police officer he knew who was at a church massacre in Ft. Worth, Texas, in 1999. In that incident, a mentally deranged individual came into the church and opened fire, gunning down 14 people. He said that officer believed he could have saved every life that day if he had been carrying his gun. His own son was shot, and all he could do was throw himself on the boy’s body and wait to die. That cop looked me in the eye and said, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?” Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for “heads to roll” if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids’ school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them. Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones were attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?” The warrior must cleanse denial from his thinking. Coach Bob Lindsey, a renowned law enforcement trainer, says that warriors must practice “when/then” thinking, not “if/when.” Instead of saying,“If it happens then I will take action,” the warrior says, “When it happens then I will be ready.” It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up. Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: You didn’t bring your gun; you didn’t train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy. Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by fear, helplessness, horror and shame at your moment of truth. Chuck Yeager, the famous test pilot and first man to fly faster than the speed of sound, says that he knew he could die. There was no denial for him. He did not allow himself the luxury of denial. This acceptance of reality can cause fear, but it is a healthy, controlled fear that will keep you alive:

"I was always afraid of dying. Always. It was my fear that made me learn everything I could about my airplane and my emergency equipment, and kept me flying respectful of my machine and always alert in the cockpit." - Brigadier General Chuck Yeager  Yeager, An Autobiography

Gavin de Becker puts it like this in Fear Less, his superb post-9/11 book, which should be required reading for anyone trying to come to terms with our current world situation:

"..denial can be seductive, but it has an insidious side effect. For all the peace of mind deniers think they get by saying it isn’t so, the fall they take when faced with new violence is all the more unsettling. Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level."

And so the warrior must strive to confront denial in all aspects of his life, and prepare himself for the day when evil comes. If you are a warrior who is legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that the bad man will not come today. No one can be “on” 24/7 for a lifetime. Everyone needs down time. But if you are authorized to carry a weapon, and you walk outside without it, just take a deep breath, and say this to yourself... “Baa.” This business of being a sheep or a sheepdog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-grass sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. The degree to which you move up that continuum, away from sheephood and denial, is the degree to which you and your loved ones will survive, physically and psychologically at your moment of truth.”