Call Of Duty Scenarios

The Videogame, "Call Of Duty" often deals with wartime scenarios, and puts the player in the first person perspective of a protagonist in these situations.  In these circumstances, the player's job is to kill people in order to accomplish a goal.  Of course, these aren't real people, but it might as well be considered as training because training simulators that the Army uses are fairly identical.

In this report, the illustrious Aaron Dykes picks up the latest copy of "Game Informer" magazine, where an article describes the kind of new plots one might expect to see from the makers of the Tom Clancy Rainbow Six series line of the first-person shooter.  Disconcerting, to say the least. 

So in this series of journalistic articles, I will attempt to describe some video game plots that I would like to see occur over the eventuality of my own lifespan.  Some of these are more like diplomacy videogames.  Others of them resemble the same kind of military operations described in Call Of Duty, except you're a medic and your goal is to save as many people as you can.

Stuff like that, know what I mean?

Egypt Revolution Scenario

Phase 1.  People get the idea somewhere that if they protest, the military might force president to step down.  Probably information from the Brotherhood of Muslims.

Phase 2.  Military takes power peacefully, changes nothing.

Phase 3.  People claim that the military is not making good with their desires.
Then they start protesting again.

The protests this time are not met with the same tenderness of the police/MP.

MUNICIPALITIES:  Do not let foreign sources fund your police brigades.

MAYORS:  Keep control of the presence of military.  Prepare for measures to remove or inconvenience or enact enforceable policy that keeps occupying military out of your city, especially for establishing permanent posts.

Fact:  That military is one of many regimes being set now into place in the Middle East.  Every country is preparing for war.

If it were me, I'd get the hell out of here.

But there's nowhere to go...
Planet Earth

FrontRunners

Imagined an event where a guy left a sign in someone's house.  She ran back crying and didn't get the joke, and said, "There's nothing worse than a house that's not a home!"  We were all perplexed why she didn't see the humor.  Apparently it wasn't bad enough that we weren't close to her in that way, because we all needed to break into her house in order to make the joke.

A few days later, an officer from the fence yard got pulled off duty.   He came in and sat down everyone that was laughing that night as she wept.  The officer took a tone which sounded like an exasperated parent, once again having to inquisition the immature children around the base.  We were all role-playing positions in our previous lives, but none of it felt real.

As fully grown men, we could only chuckle at the situation, because it seemed so insignificant.  A prank pulled on a neighbor, one we all thought was too serious.  I'm not sure if it were the original intent, but let's just say she didn't loosen up one bit.  She tightened her grip on the only thing she had left, which happened to be the imposing authorities all around us.

The guard came up early in the afternoon as people started to arrive after their work for the day.  All that they were able to do, because there was no entertainment, was literally sit in the middle of a courtyard.  Their wits were worn down to the point where they couldn't even hold conversations anymore.  All they could do was argue, and pretend that they were "leadership" and their opinions existed.  The officer guard came up to the group, and said, "Who put the sign in Miss Kiera's kitchen?"  And they all said, "No, no, I didn't do it.  We didn't touch a thing.  Then it became a forensic experiment.  "I want you all to write 'Good morning Sweetie' on a card sign.  Right now.  Do it now!" so we all wrote our separate notes on our cards.  Miss Kiera wasn't around to see any of this.  Then the officer took all the cards and said "Alright now, you're all guilty."

Old Remmy, the rambler who barely ever said a word, remarked, "But Mr. Officer Guardsman, just because we laughed doesn't mean we're guilty."  And then ToughGuy chimed in.  "Look buddy, for all we know, you could have done it."

"Let's get one thing straight, ToughGuy.  I'm the one that's playing the detective.  Not you.  You just sit around and wait until the day your number's called.  Let's see if a grand jury isn't going to believe it's a forgery if we use the one you just gave to me as evidence."

Calling numbers, nobody really knew what it meant.  Our access to information was fairly poor.  Once your number was called, they would take you away from the camp, and you'd never be heard from again.  That could either be a bad thing or a good thing.  Sometimes they told people in a pleasant manner, but other times it was more of a threatening thing to have ones' number called.  It just meant that you were leaving, but they didn't really say where.  It was still really clear that society was just too dangerous and that we'd have to stay in these detainment camps until the war was completely over.  There were reports, too, that airstrikes against the detainee camps might happen, as well.

What started as a way to get us off the streets of New York City became a nightmarish retreat into a world that looked something like Shindler's List meets Grapes of Wrath.  Morgan Freedom's voice sounds punishing, like the Old Testament, when he said, "In a world where dumb people are punished for their lack of intelligence..."

But I don't believe that it's a lack of intelligence, like many of our more fortunate friends might believe.  Or a situation of luck that could compound in complexity until they saw the very worst of luck in history.  This story is about the disconnect of one group of human beings to another group of humans, in a manner that many would say is the difference between species.

One species want to dominate the other, whom they identify as "not their kind" by their unwillingness to be cut-throat ruthless in attacking the system with the same voracity for all that it's worth.  But it's foolishness for those people for attacking a system that was set up to protect the rights of all people, because they don't know how, in the long run, they'll also be affected.  We're all part of the planet no matter what party you favor or species you decide you're in.

"Do you think they mean what they said, about throwing us all away?" said Biffer.  ToughGuy looked longingly at the ground, as if wishing to become dirt and said, "That whole prank was a bad idea."

"But we never have any fun," said Paul Ramses.  He was right, there wasn't nearly enough recreational time.  He was there because he was actually from a corporation, which is part of the reason that he didn't use a nickname.  He didn't get the #Occupy stance on nicknames.  We all had one because we were protesting our parents for bringing us into this crappy existence.  He still believed that by using his real name, there would be a coherent record of his every good deed, and that a nickname might cause him to resort to bad deeds.  Little did he know that we knew where to find people like ToughGuy every day.  We didn't need to track his banking statements and abduct him at an ATM withdrawal, as was the case with Mr. Ramses.  The pharaoh's days were over, and he could no longer be king.  The judge prosecuted him on crimes that even his honor did not understand, basing the verdict on the credit of the good name of the office that was indicting him.

What's ironic?  He was let into this camp that we consider ours, as extra punishment for this rejection by his peers, as if to say that "you're not better than them, the ones you helped us screw for all those years."  Nobody was really sure what he actually did, but it was clearly criminal in nature, based on the description we were given.  This made the situation a little more ambiguous, about whether we were in custody for crimes, or if we were just being sheltered until the Great Emergency was over.  One might even tell you...  For the things you know are all around you.  If you can't change your surroundings, then you just end up knowing less.  I realize that this place makes you dumber.  I've become aware of that to some extent, because I know that I just can't confide in anyone.  There's nobody else out in this entire place who understands me enough that I would want to believe I could confide in them.  But I also don't have the insensitivity to be a guard.  I guess I'll continue being me, and very quietly continuing.

Next Entry


I felt very far away from the distant realm of nature.  The housing project looked on the side of a very good place.  The nurses at the station were all very much good people who wanted to help, but the rules were that you could not get pregnant, and if you were sick, there was nothing they could do for you except give you drugs.  No surgeries, no operations other than amputations.  And this was because there just weren't enough doctors to go around performing all of the operations necessary to keep us alive if something serious .  I don't want you to be afraid, but there's a fairly good chance that this could affect you for the rest of your life," a real doctor would say to you, when something was potentially wrong.  But these 'doctors' were like a bunch of clown doctors when it came to telling people what was actually wrong with them.  They too were essentially being punished by someone or something, I remember accidentally handing someone a huge check that I wrote for something else.  And the clerk went back and changed the price so that it was lower.  Time was wearing me down.

Escape!

This whole thing started like a nightmare.  It ended like a dream, when I woke up and found out that none of it was real...  at least the personal part of it.

It was early.  The two of us rose from our cells, these classrooms they gave us.  Guys were put in one, and the women stayed in the other.  They each had their own set of problems but the guards said it was to keep the population down.  They only let the ones they want to have kids actually do anything.  And they have the rest of us conduct large ceremonies, even if the people getting married have no interest in it.  They were "chosen" and by that, this meant favors.  These favors had not meant freedom, but they were worth something, just the same.

The rest of us tended to the biology labs.  They taught us all how to make bugs disappear with zappers, and told us to be ready if there were ever a big giant wave of bugs.  We thought they were kidding, but then one day a huge swarm of bugs flew our way.  And we knew exactly what to do.  They said survival of the fittest is how the Universe becomes more intelligent.  So during any of these drills, a few would perish.  But that was just the meaning behind the experience, I guess.

I kept justifying it inside of my head that everything was really supposed to happen the way that I imagined in my dreams.  This was so far from a dream, that I felt it was just beyond my control, to see the world get any better.  I knew there was a big war on the other side of the fence, and that no one was really alive, and that we were 'safe' here, they said.  But still, I wanted to go outside.  I needed to know if there really was a big war, or that I was only imagining it.  I had no idea what was in store for us next.

See, here's the thing.  We were led to this place, disbelieving the reason why we were prodded so adamantly away from our destination that day.  It was an ordinary day, when it happened.  We were just going to work.  I was walking, with my wife, and we stopped at the bus stop and waited a little.  Then, a parade of police cop cars came and arrested a whole bunch of people, including us.  It sure looked like an arrest.  There were sirens and horns and everything else.  But then when we got inside the car, we asked the officers what happened.  And they said:

"No you didn't do anything wrong."
"Well then why are you driving us away?" we asked.
"It's for your own safety," he said.  "Everyone is in great danger."

How weird, I thought.  No warning on the news.  It feels like an arrest.  But the cops keep assuring me that I did nothing wrong.  I'm wondering why that is?  I can't get mad at them, because they're cops and they're just doing their job.  I am the invader, perhaps, to any police.  Not because I live there, or it's my home, but because the officer wants to know my thoughts, and she can't have my mom," he said.

The guards all looked away.  They had enough, overhearing our lame excuse for a conversation.  We didn't make any sense to them anyways.  As long as we weren't plotting an escape, they didn't care what we talked about.  And there was a very easy way to tell what we were talking about, even to them who didn't understand us.  We'd all get quiet, and discuss the goood old days.  Then some people would start getting sore over just their loss of memory.

In my mind, I recognized that all of life is just a memory.  And memories disappear when we die.  What remains are the feelings we get when making connections.  Some feelings are passed between lives, which prove that they really exist.  I dream that when I pass in this life, my next one will be full of surprises, fulfillment, and just prizes.

I was meandering down the walkway today.  That's all we can do.  The guards are not paid, in fact they were also picked up that day that we were hauled into this kennel.  They swear allegiance to the Lord.  When people are screaming at you, do you have the sensibility to know someone?  Those were the original points of discussion for all men, at one point in time.

Theta writing (sometimes dreaming) I come across some nonlinear parts.  As the upcoming months approached, time stood still for the wanderers.

The trains ran all day and all night to the warehouse factory, where we stayed.  I'd hear them late at night.

Thoughts About Alex Jones.

The thing you have to remember is that Alex Jones has essentially pioneered the front that we now call "the infowar."  And it's a real thing, no doubt.  There is an evil force in the world that needs to hide from the truth in order to exist.  Alex made it his job to expose it.




Here's Alex, in the movie "Waking Life" (at 4:30 he appears), yelling into a bullhorn.  This was my first encounter with his personality.  You might say that he's capitalized on this notion of "Info-wars," and that might be true, depending on how much he's financially benefiting from his fame and success.

The issue with Jones, however, is that he believes that eventually people will have to fight back, and he's not really sure how to mobilize people in a positive way.  He knows that war is not the answer.  He's reported that the government has established detainee camps in the event that the civil unrest becomes beyond the power of the police to detain.  So what's the answer, Alex?

For me, he's already the answer in himself, by pointing the finger at every elephant in the room, no matter how many there are, regardless of how big.  Whether it's Gadaffi, retreating with a white flag envoy out of Sirte, getting hit by NATO en route to what he thought was his surrender.  Or the dubious explanation of the mysterious collapse of Building 7.

As he gets more frantic with every one of his transmissions, you have to wonder if he's serious or just over-reacting.  I can honestly say that "This is what...  the world really is in this position."



It's something else, to see him with the camo shirt and the goofy haircut with the public-access show studio motif still lingering in the background.  At his worst moments, he theorizes as fact, and that within itself is the real cause for why most people cannot stand listening to him for so long.  But then, if he didn't, he wouldn't be who he is:  a major general in the info war.

"I told you that the announce of a bank of the world and the global currency is the solution to the European crisis in The Obama Deception, three years ago."  I'm so used to listening to this guy that this quote actually makes sense to me.   My interest in listening to him with the frequency that I often do with other news aggregates like the Huffington Post is because it's just so freakin' entertaining that I keep on tuning in.  In that regard, Alex Jones is doing his job.  He's doing a particularly good job, especially for me, because it's difficult for most people to get my attention like this.

If you have any preconceived notions about how the world works, or if the world favors you in any particular way, then it is likely that you might subconsciously filter his information with your own defenses, because much of what he says is delivered with an increasing sense of urgency.

If I really thought he was dangerous, I would say so.  Unfortunately I don't think that he's making much of this stuff up.  I know for a fact that much of what he's saying is true.  Partially because of the documents that he presents to back up his stories, either with official documents or by news sources.  Every day he comes up with a stack of papers that he collects from these sources, so he's an active spokesperson for his own 'leaks' type organization.

He argues that the reason that these documents are not publicized are because the interests of the people who are trying to keep their information private are essentially criminal.  It's hard to be a spokesperson for justice but I have only been made aware of how difficult that position actually is through watching Alex Jones.  Here's his youtube channel.

Theta

Theta

Theta is a device which I have invented, for the purpose of establishing a connection with, what I believe, is a subconscious universe that is more challenging to understand than real life.  In that world, there are more possibilities, because none of it's happened. 

Some of it might but only in the form of movies.  I see things in my head which might resemble television or movies.  The message is always good, because I've tuned to a good frequency.  I keep its coordinates locked in my heart.  

This is the message of theta.  These are dreams that I've had the ability to write down.  In 2002, at the age of 22, back at my parent's house in my old bedroom from high school, I spent most of my time hiding in there, building weird machines (and then taking them apart), making weird songs (and then erasing them), and also writing lots of stuff (then burning it).  

Some of the stuff that I wrote was on the computer.  The reason is because I was able to type on the computer with my eyes closed.  My ability to create language on a typewriter developed better over time, and I practiced in my bed, while asleep.  Before I could afford a laptop, I would do this with a regular keyboard, leaving the monitor where it was.  

Theta is somewhat edited, because it has to be.  The session always ends like this: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.  So I take that out, for sure.  Most of it is marginally interesting, or too personal and probably unable to be related.   That's me, falling asleep on the keys. 

Theta taught me how to let go of the constraints of my thoughts, by simultaneously teaching my fingers to do the same; to let loose on the keys.  Because it's not about the keyboard.  It's more really related to the act of translating thoughts into words, but spending more focus on seeing the thoughts.  The act of thinking, for me, is a very visual experience.  I almost can't see the world around me when I'm thinking too hard.  You might say that autistic children could be blamed for thinking too hard, and that the problems of the world have exacerbated the autistic population of the world by being just too complicated.  This isn't a child's inability to understand something.  It's that child's unwillingness to accept the irrationality of the situation.  

That's sort of related to theta, but even as I wrote those words, I could see through the eyes of an autistic child, and that's theta.  That's the ability to live through other peoples' experiences whose are not your own, and that's what the afterlife is like.  Those who are able to see into the dreamworld understand the afterlife in a little more depth than the rest of us, because the two are closely related.  The mind above us is the mind of the Globe; that is to say that our consciousness arises into the electromagnetic spectrum, quite physically this is true, as our thoughts, which are almost entirely "electronic" become released into another "sphere of influence."  That's why the only time people ever see ghosts, they're beautifully seen only as the Aurora Borealis, and nothing more, ever else.  The rest is in our imaginations, which is way more wild and crazy than our sedated, conscious lives, when we're really asleep.  

Thoughts About Gadaffi.

The one thing I got to say about Gadaffi is that his people actually really did love the guy, for the most part, and they had every reason to.  I believe his sons were good, and would have protected Libya better, had they been more prepared for the invasion.  But Libya let its guard down.  Amidst the celebration of $.17 gas prices, he could drive in the heart of downtown in a motorcade of a dozen vehicles, with his head out the sunroof like the King that he was.



But the King is dead.  That was the message from NATO.  And I'm not saying Mummar was even close to a murmur of a second away from becoming Leader of the World, let alone Best Dressed in the West.  But he's looking at us now from Space, and dead guys can do no harm, except scare you.  That's what I've learned from watching movies about ghosts.

In my belief, what's worse than what they did to the African people is what they're about to do (and perhaps have been doing for a while) to the continent of Africa.  You might even say that, if you include the Persian Gulf and the oil beneath the sands, it's been happening for a while.

So what do we do about all this?  We blog about it.  We write it so that the people in the future can look back at us and say, hey.  At least a few of them had a clue.  Because the past will not be a mystery to the people at the End of the Age.  The Occult leadership (think Bohemian Grove) get their orders from their imaginations, unlike many other people, who get their orders from them.  You might say that their imagination is the source for religion, and soon to be a pantheon of paranormal beliefs unlike that which you could imagine.  People who really believe in their religion are willing to act on their beliefs.  Most Christians are only capable of acting on behalf of their wallets, which cause them to make bad decisions. If you take apart their wallet, all they're left with are their moral values, which have been equally eroded as society quietly moves the bar for what is socially acceptable.  You might see more brothels if the economic disparity continues, because there's plenty of wealth and resources, everyone thinks.  But people are holding out because I'm not smart enough, I'm not pretty enough, some people think.  In many ways this is an incentive to go out, get on a pair of high heels and an education.



But the source of the interest is bad motivation.  Getting educated simply so that you can go on and chase down currency sounds like you missed the first lesson:  life is the persuit of happiness and liberty.  Our experiences in the education would be much different if everyone could agree on that.  If life was about the persuit of money, an end to a means of endless dreams, you might find that you are dreaming.  The realest human beings think of life as a dream, but they know that they will wake up someday.  And when they do, they'll say "Wow.  Oh wow.  Oh wow."

Reality World TV Network Program.

There once were a group of people who altogether wanted two things.  First, they wanted their own sitcom show, because they thought that they were so interesting and so clever that everyone deserved to see their every move.  But that wasn't enough.  They also wanted to be in space.

So they got the funding from a network to boost them all into space, like it were a Reality World TV Network Program.  The network gave them the green light, and they got the funding with assistance from their sister organization, the Federal Government, who handed out contracts to private Space Agencies like NASA/NBC (once Microsoft became Nasa).  It could have been a good idea, because while they were in space, Monolith was forming, and I would rather be in outer space than to witness the birth of Monolith.

So the actors got on the spaceship and went into orbit.  The show would have been better if the astronaut reality TV show cast were smart and simply orbited around the world throughout the season.  They could have guest-spots provided by Russian spacemen, aboard the International Space Station, and discuss politics on Earth to an audience of bar attendees on Sunday afternoons before the football games.  But this did not happen.  Instead, they all had secret agendas.

One guy on the show seemed pretty normal, but the whole time, he keeps trying to turn himself into a lizard.  Another one, no one is sure if she's a hologram, a reflection, or a real being.  There's one guy who thinks he controls the ship, but no one has the guts to tell him that the ship has always been on autopilot.  One person dares, and he states, "but why on earth would there be all those controls over there?"

There are several others.  The general atmosphere of the show is that they all eventually go crazy.  They all get a little too nuts.  And the farther out in space they go, the more spaced out the show.

What they also don't realize is that their selfish behavior has caused them to lose their character loyalists back at home, where everyone is supposedly watching.  When, in reality, people stopped watching a long time ago.  In the final episode, they float into the darkness of space, very much less rational and seemingly at a loss of intelligence from the initial episodes, as the world generally forgets about them, and loses interest in space travel, as a whole.

*Monolith:  alluded to in many other ways, the end-all, be-all of all combined corporate entities into one single company, with its own currency system.

**Why Space:  They thought that if the show were in space, more people would watch it because people are basically interested in Outer Space enough as it is.  Plus, the only way to justify the costs associated with being in space would be to promote the show as part social experiment, and partial lab experiment.