I.P.I.P. Nightly. Did you think you were forgotten and unloved?

Nay, no, niet.

Title: All my posts are like this, it's tiring:

The Davinci Code both book and film, garbage.

Tom Hanks probably took the Lolita Express to film that cluster F of a filum.

Trash.

How many men with brown skin have we killed in Jesus name?

And the Holacaust? Do you truly think Hitler was a Christian? Don't make me laugh until I cry uncontrollably.

He was a speed freak vegan with one testicle.

Ok fine you love your God.

None of my business.

Follow my path of thought for a moment. Break your feeble brain by reading. Feel the weakness masked by strength, Classic Sun Tzu playbook. I hate reading too, it's ok. walk with me.

Only one man in human history should have had five thousand children. Ten thousand, infinite sons and daughters!

Not Genghis Khan and not his father.

No. Gautama Buddha. Yet Genghis' blood runs through all of our veins.

Why be shocked that wars occur both as proxy and world every 20 to 50 years? Study the cycle of war and prosperity, it is written, my numbers aren't good but I can't memorise Pi either, I have friends who can.

Study the threads of time, you will find the time of oceans of blood in a year or two coming up.

I care little for your doubt, because I can't say "I told you so you stupid beautiful hippy!" to a future dead friend I loved now CAN I?

The man alive to see that last war WW2, he is not long for this world and I will mourn the last warrior of that time. I can speak not much more on such men for I love them and don't wish to exploit them.

The Viet Vets, a few decades, they too will not be near the town centre to ring the bell to warn the sheep.

The historian, a quiet one, no bombastic energy to ring the bell and save millions. The future is none of his concern only the past.

Each great conflict, each exodus from peace and natural order, each time the planet is riven and drenched in blood. Each and every time it occurs, the ones that lived long enough to see the last time it happened? Long dead.

So we sleep walk into the next cataclysm.

Each and every time.

The natural order, the laws of nature, the earth takes back what we steal, it feeds on our blood and bones.

In the modern day cremation robs mother earth of sustenence and our ashes but dirt in the mouths of the ancient powers kept at bay by idiotic talks of peace, freedom and democracy. As we infect Africa with "progress" in exchange for lithium as they slowly die in the economic sense from all of the debts piled up by our "Foreign Aid".

Ideals mean nothing to an apex predator.

I would rather fight for a forest than a political system.

I guess I am unwise.

speak not of freedom. You want to go to Tibet or Timbuktuu? Where's your passport mother (redacted)? Yeah?........ ha ha ha. The illusion of freedom boy. Silly Little Boys everywhere wearing the skins of men. Pretenders. Soft, weak, pliable by propaganda. Sadness.

Soft kittens. Entrees to Beijing.

Each time the coyote grows too vast in number, and the decimation, the death toll until the caged wolf is released to decimate the coyote who retreats, not so mighty anymore, not so tough, teeth not cut by total war.

The last war China fought was with Vietnam. Vietnam beat the living snot, faeces and urine out of China.

Everybody stays quiet about that dont they!?

And they never speak of Korea in High school do they!? The tiny communist brother wooping the poop out of the bigger idiotic brother? I love the Vietnamese, any part of the world they are my brothers, I love the Turkish, I love the South Koreans, I love anyone I can learn from. I am open to learn from any nation that has beaten my ancestors at our game, War and Occupation.

I am certain I would love the northern Koreans too but they are prisoners and cannot leave, they must fertilize their soil with human feaces in order to survive but...Other than MASH we never speak about that divided nation. We didn't lose and we didn't win. That grey area of impotence. Not our kind of sport.

The coyote saw before it fields and mountains and took it all thinking it's teeth were the size of buildings, and the wolf forgotten.

Every prey animal decimated to near extinction and something had to be done.

The wolf once hated and excomunicated.

But we wake up to the realness don't we?

When you feel your highrise shake and a mushroom in the distance, YOU WILL WAKE UP TOO! Too late lamb of god. Far too late, the meek inheriting the earth, sweet comedy, Sweet dilusions and sweet final dreams.

We keep but one wolf left and maybe his maiden in the next cage beside him? To torture him? To possibly say "I'd love a baby wolf mummy!"

And one night we set them free. The dead of night, bang on Midnight. The second, minute and hour all at the top. It's show time.

We ignore the ancient talk of the wolf being bad and nearly wiping all of them out for they were once ferocious.

I speak of American carnivores for in my own world the confusion of the Dingo being native and then talk this year of "An islamic fishing communities introduced species! Kill them all!"

I have no time for garbage talk about dingos because they got here before my bloodline did. Before every prison was built by slave criminals, before we wiped out the originals or poluted their blood lines with our own scummish white blood, before the white man exited the cave, almost to the time of Pangea but not quite.

I respect dogs over communists.

I thought I could hunt deer, I saw a doe with her child.

Now I know I can only take bucks.

I know inside myself. My heart more powerful than my hunger.

I know what is right.

The wolf cares little for politics.

The wolf saved northern America.

He vanquished the cowards like they were two bit protection money triads.

He wiped them all out.

The only survivors fled to Canada to freeze to death for this wasn't Texas nor Mexico Toto!

Or the coward coyote simply fled south, the common sense move.

But when the coyote ran, trust there were wolf teeth marks on his ball sack and anus. He didn't get away without visible scars.

Trust the wolf to be the wolf.

Trust in the foulest terror to at least restore the balance of nature.

Trust that the dark hides the greatest weapons, the greatest destruction.

The unknown evil.

The tactician.

The long range specialist.

The invisible man.

Me.

Trust me to do what you are too weak to do for I will forgive you and be merciful for I know that the meek cannot help but be meek.

I love God's children even if after decades of torture I am not fit to reach for God's hand. I still do God's work regardless.

Nature is hungry.

She waits for me there.

I must make haste.

The prototypes must be made in haste.

I'm not here to romance, to dine and seduce spiders.

I'm not here in a nice suit to seduce doctors into releasing Oxycodone or Fentanyl as the new panacea.

Leave that to pretty demons with nice frames. That's not me.

I know what I must do, so far nobody is stopping me.

They think it's art, they think they are boats and vehicles, they think I am insane.

It's exactly the way it's supposed to be for me.

Everything is locking into place.

When the big boom, the waves of bombs and the EMP shards of pure energy pierce every capital city, well, you've seen a map of Canberra. The design of Canberra alone, a beauty, a wonder. An unbreakable citadel.

Every man who I know to be truly a man.

They have the glint in their eye I have.

We feel no fear when our eyes meet.

We see only the blood trails of retreat in each others futurers, collective but solo operators.

We've been practicing with DIY IEDs since we were six years old but we never talk about it with each other.

We might brag "Yeah I blew up the bridge nobody used for the last 50 years."

"Wow, I only blew up a tree!"

But we don't swap recipes. Loose lips sink ships.

I'm trying to stop your ship from sinking el capitane.

I pity the enemies of my nation the most, the coward bacteria, the coyote with a capitalist system propping up a dying communist ideal.

The vast, get rich quick, wastelands of city skyscapers empty and rotting like the teeth of a pig headed giant dying of heart disease on his vinyl couch. It's illegal for the slaves of the genocidal regime to live in these empty horizons. The guards keep them empty. They all let it rot and fall, if people were free to walk those dead teeth, the decay would fall on their heads randomly and they would die, "Fake Italian marble, fourth dead this week, Sir, yes, he had a drone the little snitch."

A dead empire.

Dead before it was even born.

A people crushed under their own regime.

I want as many POWs as possible.

Love and mercy is what they deserve.

To hell with the Geneva Code, there is a code in my heart. Hope can't die with me.

Love follows death. Each flower on the mass graves of millions.

Upon those killing fields, in Cambodia and trapped in my mind. I was a teacher once, I met boys who wanted to be soldiers so I explained how defenceless and poorly equipped Cambodia is today and now they are doctors. But I kepts going back over and over to the killing fields to remember how the West had blunt teeth after Vietnam. How we stood by and guessed that four million innocent people died because Pol Pot wanted weapons to storm Vietnam. I kept going back to those fields when it rained and the arm and leg bones of hundreds of thousands rose from the clay soil on their own. I couldn't help so I watched the volunteers pick up the bones and put them on the gigantic piles for arm bones and the twin pile for leg bones. God walked beside me and wept.

I walked those fields and in many ways I've never left those fields. I know the past so I am chained to the future. The present day is a reflection of our collective weakness, the weakness within and the weakness of the genocial regime.

I stopped watching the news over a year ago so trust that I am not spitting virulant propaganda at you.

I hate communistis, not asians and not Chinese slaves to the regime.

Towers of skulls five stories high.

The bones don't lie so doubt me not.

Oh how dark you are you edge lord Douglas Radcliffe.

So weak yet so goddamn hard.

But peace?

Buddha should have had ten thousand children, he was of noble blood, but a monk, the disconnect and the mindfulness, the balance, the sacrifice.

It is like this.

A man who hunts demons should take no wife and bear no children for the demons wait until he is old and the demons think the people he loves are collateral to destroy. Payback.

Somehow the demons of Phnom Penh weren't friends with each other and most of them went to jail where they belonged, the color of their skin? The same color as mine......

Men like Buddha? the opposite side of the scale, they cannot destroy their minds with the pleasures of flesh with the sacrifice of a day job, the humdrum of family dinners, the waiting for permisison to live. the servitude required to be a modern man.

A demon who feeds on demons?

A living god who disconnects from all ilusions of pain, starvation, pleasure, hope, the god head of purity?

You cannot meld together these two men even with centuries of eugenics nor selective breeding.

I don't believe I am such a man.

Just two competing voices in the same mind.

Ilusions of power.

I am nothing.

That is why we are here, now. Ghengis Khan's genetics, an eternity of war until the earth beneath our feet dies. The gift we didn't appreciate.

Like a loyal woman taken for granted.

We are simply death.

We are simply on the lowest frequency of the universe.

We are dust, we are a mistake.

This is why god sleeps when the weak call for "HIM".

For she is the true power, love, birth, pain, death, the teeth of nature tearing the skin from muscle and muscle from bone.

It is dull and lonely work predicting the future.

It is sad.

I fear the acolytes I am gathering now. I don't want to harm them with my thoughts. They are diverse. Some of them are They.

I fear myself when I say I fear them.

They are my children in many ways.

I love them but fear my message.

But the acolytes keep adding me and they don't argue with me.

Such rare creatures.

Mercy upon them. They are the future.

I have one foot in the past and both arms and one leg in the future.

The present moment sickens me the most.

So

I

Pray

and

prey

and

pay

and

sacrifice

for this is the burden I wish to take.

This is the path I chose.

Walk with me.

Douglas Radcliffe

@Ijustwantobenormal

Tuncurry

Douglas Radcliffe has not written a story.