Why I admired Carter and his stance on Iran.

Posted on by Opher

During the year of 1979/80 I had the privilege of being accepted on to a teacher exchange scheme. I was allotted a teaching role in Norwalk High School in Los Angeles. My family and I, wife and three kids, lived in Downey and spent all our holidays touring around the States (and down to Mexico City) in a VW van. We had a spectacular year. America is a beautiful country with some amazing scenery. The people were friendly and generous.

The High School I taught in was probably 50% Chicano, 10% black and 40% white with a lot of gang problems. I found the kids fabulous, friendly and outgoing even though the American education system was terrible. I was using teaching materials that in England would have been appropriate for twelve-year-olds with my top class seventeen-year-olds.

This was Carter’s election year and also the year of the Iran Hostage scenario. The Iran Revolutionary Guard had stormed the US embassy and was holding all its staff hostage.

My students were on the ceiling. I’d put a large map of the world on the wall and one of them had stuck a pin with a flag in Tehran saying ‘NUKE IRAN’. The prevailing mood was one in which they all wanted the President to storm into Iran, kick ass and teach them a lesson. There were many derogatory terms flying around.

I have no doubt that if Carter had invaded Iran he would have been re-elected.

However, fortunately, he didn’t. The reality of a war with a huge country like Iran with its multitude of tribal ethnicities and religious fervour is highly complex and unpredictable. The effect on the world economy and destabilisation of an already febrile area is substantial.

You roll the dice, throw the cards in the air and try to predict the outcome.

Carter wisely chose not to invade. He sent in an abortive desert rescue mission to free the hostages that crashed and went horribly wrong. He wasn’t elected.

Back in my classrooms there was war fever. As an outsider I tried to organise a rational debate – taking account of the region, Russia, Iraq, Syria, Israel, Lebanon, oil, economies and unpredictability. My debates turned into hostile shouting matches. All my students wanted to do was bomb these ‘primitive Arabs’ into oblivion. How dare they kidnap Americans, threaten America and burn US flags. They needed nuking and putting in their place.

Forget alliances and the difficulties of attacking a country of that size, they were Americans; the Arabs should kow-tow and know their place. America was the greatest power on the planet. How dare they! Nuke ’em!

I tried pointing out a few home truths – despite America’s huge military power it had not managed to win a single war – got booted out of Korea, Vietnam and Cambodia (later booted out of Iraq and Afghanistan) – for all its fire power it cannot even win against opponents armed with out-of-date rifles and a ball of rice. Taking on the religious fanaticism of a country like Iran was a major undertaking that would drain the resources of even a superpower. American bravado was not going to prevail.

My students did not want to debate these points. In their opinion the USA was so mighty all they needed to do was wade in and wipe out those mad Muslims, free the hostages and blow the Iranian regime to kingdom come. Simple. The USA was all-powerful. NUKE IRAN!! They chanted death like the most fervent Iranian acolytes.

I hadn’t experienced anything quite like it. The war fever was immense. I wondered if it had been like that at the start of the Vietnam war or Korea? How quickly reality sets in. War is death. War is maimed bodies. War is misery. War is destruction. War is incredibly expensive. War is primitive. War is utterly stupid.

I came back from the States lamenting the stupidity of war fever and saying that fortunately it couldn’t happen here. Then, blow me, it did. A short while later I was in English classrooms trying to hold sensible, intelligent debate with enflamed students who wanted to nuke Argentina for daring to take the Falklands.

The only people who benefit from war are the politicians who gain power and the elites who profit from the weapon sales and eventual rebuilding. They get rich and powerful on the blood and agony of others.

The people who pay for it (apart from the dead, maimed, traumatised and homeless soldiers and victims) are ordinary people whose taxes are spent on destruction. They get less money, worse health care and poor education.

What a stupid way for intelligent people to behave.

I greatly admired Jimmy Carter. He put rational intelligence before gung-ho politics.

Loaded up with Evangelicals! Jesus wants you to kill!

Posted on by Opher

Trump’s put a bunch of religious nutters in charge of the military!! Onward Christian soldiers and all that! It’s the Crusades part 7.

Unbelievably stupid!

The lengths he is going to to escape EPSTEIN!!!

Bing Videos

The Cleansing – 39 – Chapter 20

Posted on by Opher

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278914952: Books

Trying to talk rationally with populists is similar to arguing with a newt.

Chapter 20 – Reactions

‘I don’t know what the hell this is,’ John muttered as he dug into his dinner, but I like it.’

‘It’s that new stuff they’ve brought in,’ Debbie explained. ‘Virtually giving it away down at the supermarket. Meant to provide everything a body needs.’

‘That alien stuff then?’

‘Probably. Nobody seems to know.’

John shrugged. It tasted alright to him. ‘I’ve been given a big pay hike,’ John remarked. ‘Seems the busses are getting big subsidies.’ He looked up from his plate. Alright with me. We’ll probably be able to afford a lot of those things we’ve had on hold.’

‘Particularly as the energy prices are through the floor. Our electricity charges are almost non-existent.’

‘They trying to buy us off?’

‘Who cares?’ Debbie replied. ‘As long as we’re doing OK.’

The door bell sounded.

‘Don’t worry!’ Charlene shouted, ‘I’ve got it.’

She opened the door to find a man standing on the doorstep. She looked him up and down. ‘You know, you look the spitting image of that guy the lizards have brought in to run the government, Ron something or other.’

‘That’s because I am him – Ron Forsythe,’ he held out his hand.

Charlene stood completely flummoxed. It’s not every day that you get a world leader turning up at your front door; even if they are some bogus puppet put in place by an alien invasion. She was flummoxed.

Ron allowed his extended hand to slowly return to his side. ‘I was wondering if I might have a word with Billy, Billy Smythe?’

Charly finally managed to get her brain back into gear, shut her mouth, all agitated, she nervously brushed herself down with both hands, not taking her eyes off him. It was quite one thing to see someone on the telly and something else when they unexpectedly turn up on your doorstep. Her natural hospitality kicked in. ‘Of course. Of course, do come in er Mr Forsythe. I’ll, er, I’ll get him.’ With that she stood aside and ushered him into the house.

Charly hustled him through to the front room and sat him down. ‘Would you like a drink Mr Forsythe,’ she simpered.

‘Cup of tea would be nice. Milk two sugars.’ He smiled. It was a tactic well-used by salesmen. If you were nursing a drink they couldn’t throw you out.

Charly rushed off. He heard her shout up the stairs: ‘Billy! Billy! Someone to see you!’ Then there were sounds from the kitchen. He heard Billy tramp down the stairs followed by voices in the kitchen, a few expletive-ridden exclamations and clattering.

A simpering Charly reappeared carrying a tray with three cups, a jug of milk, a teapot and small plate of chocolate bourbons. ‘The biscuits were all we had, I’m afraid.’

Billy trailed in behind her and  scowled at Ron as if this was some kind of a joke.

Charly placed the tray on the coffee table. She poured Ron a cup of tea in a china cup on a flowery saucer, adding the milk and sugar as requested. Then she pushed the plate of biscuits towards him and sat down next to Billy.

Billy had sat himself on the sofa opposite not taking his eyes off Ron, a suspicious frown on his face. He wasn’t sure it was really Ron Forsythe not that it really mattered. He was not going to be fazed by that stooge.

Ron rose from the armchair he’d been directed to and extended his hand to Billy. ‘Ron Forsythe.’

Billy regarded the hand with a tight-lipped grimace  but half rose from the settee to give him a cursory shake. ‘Billy.’

The two men studied each other. ‘Charlene said you wanted to see me?’

‘That’s right,’ Ron lifted his teacup and took a sip. ‘I think we need to talk.’ He carefully placed the cup back on its saucer.

‘What have we got to talk about?’ Billy asked belligerently, not anywhere near as unsettled by Ron’s presence as Charlene had been.

Ron took a slow measured sip from the tea again, never taking his eyes off Billy, and then deliberately placed the teacup and saucer back on the coffee table and leaned forward, lacing his hands together. ‘I think we’ve got lots to talk about.’

‘Is that some kind of threat?’ Billy had turned bright red.

Charlene was sitting nervously watching this confrontation not sure which way it might go. She could see Billy was all riled up. He didn’t like being bossed around.

Ron sat back and smiled. ‘No threat Billy. I haven’t come here with threats. I’ve come to talk things through. To ask you to give us some time.’

‘Some time?’ Billy looked like a giant squib that someone had just lit the blue touch paper. It was his turn to lean forward and look menacing. He poked his finger at Ron. ‘I’m not having a bunch of lizards taking my country off me! If they think they can waltz in and send some fucking lackey round to get me off their backs, they’ve got another think coming.’

Charlene watched wide-eyed, half horrified and half really proud of her Billy. He was standing up to the newly appointed world leader. Who would have believed that? Good for her Billy.

Ron sat back and pursed his lips deep in thought as to how he was going to defuse this. It was no surprise. He’d expected it. He could see that Billy was a fiery, combative character. He knew this was not going to be a picnic. It was a forlorn hope but he’d figured that it couldn’t do any harm.

Ron spread his hands in surrender. ‘I haven’t come here to have an argument, Billy. I was hoping we could have a talk and reach some kind of compromise.’

‘You can’t compromise. There isn’t a compromise when it comes to giving up your country.’

Charlene was looking from one to the other.

‘Can’t you just give me a few minutes of your time and listen to what I have to say?’ Ron spoke in a quiet conciliatory tone.

Charlene was fixed on Billy, waiting for him to decide. The tea was untouched. A pregnant pause hung in the air.

‘Alright,’ Billy muttered grudgingly, finally leaning back, ‘I’ll hear you out. But I’m telling you right from the start; I’m not going to give an inch to these fucking lizards.’

Ron nodded. ‘Thank you Billy,’ he said in a soft voice. ‘I’ll try to keep it short.’ He lent forward in a conspiratorial manner, elbows on knees and hands together, fingers interlaced in a non-confrontational stance. His eyes sought out Billy’s. ‘I know you think I’m some kind of tool appointed by the lizards.’ He shrugged. ‘In truth I’m just a writer. I don’t know how the hell I’ve found myself in this position.’ A little smile creased his lips. ‘But this has put me into very close contact with Commander Chameakegra who is head of this occupation.’  He paused to check Billy was still focussed on what he was saying. ‘And I don’t shy from calling it an occupation. That’s what it is.’

Billy made a tight-lipped grimace.

‘The thing is Billy, you have to know what you’re up against,’ he pressed on despite seeing Billy’s expression darkening. ‘These aliens are from a massive galactic Federation. They have powers we can’t imagine. Their technology is incredibly advanced. They make us look primitive. As you put it – they simply waltzed in and took over without a shot being fired. They nullified all our military capability just like that.’

‘If you think that…’

Ron raised his hand. ‘No. Please hear me out. This is too serious. There are things you should know and consider.’

He could see Charlene’s eyes flash Billy a signal. Billy took a deep breath and controlled himself, subsiding back into his seat.

‘This Federation seek out intelligent life around the galaxy,’ Ron explained. ‘They assess it and either incorporate it into their Federation or,’ he paused for effect, seeking out Billy’s eye, ‘or… they exterminate it.’ He watched for Ron’s reaction and could see Charlene looking startled in the background.

‘That’s right. We were and are being assessed. They will wipe us out if we are considered too violent.’

‘Are you really saying…’ Billy blustered.

‘That’s right,’ Ron interrupted. ‘They have the power to wipe us off the face of the planet as easily as removing a smudge from a window pane. With ease. Nothing we can do about it. They are here trying to make a decision. There are those among them who already think we are too violent. They’d do away with us just like that. There are others, like Commander Chameakegra, who want to give us a chance.’

‘How do you know this?’ Charlene asked, a startled look on her face. Looking from one to the other.

‘How do you know this?’ Billy asked aggressively, leaning forward. ‘I don’t believe you.’  Charlene touched him on the arm.

‘I know this because I have been meeting regularly with Commander Chameakegra,’ Ron explained. ‘That’s the way it is.’

‘You would say that,’ Billy blustered. ‘She picked you. She put you in place. She’s using you. Spinning you a yarn.’

Ron nodded. ‘Yes she did put me in place. But she’s not using me.’ He held Billy’s eyes with an intense stare that he hoped came across as sincerity. ‘And I believe her.’

Billy glowered at him. Charlene looked scared.

‘You’ve seen their power. You’ve seen what they can do.’ He left that hanging. ‘What is dangling in the air is our whole future. If they find us ‘worthy’ they will take us into their Federation and help us to develop. They offer us a future where everybody has a great life; there’s no poverty, no wars, we have clean energy and new incredible technology.’

‘They won’t give us our country though, will they?’ Billy spat the words.

‘We will be free to govern ourselves and take an equal place in the Federation and we will be at liberty to exercise our cultural values.’

Billy made a silent sneer.

Ron ignored that. ‘If we are deemed too violent then they will simply eradicate us all.’ Ron sighed deeply. ‘We have a clear choice. It’s on the edge of a knife. What we do in the next days and weeks will determine whether we live or die.’

Charlene was staring at Billy with a terrified expression on her face.

‘Billy, I’m imploring you,’ Ron leaned forward and fixed Billy with an intense glare. ‘That violence at Clacton played right into the hands of those who want to get rid of us. We have a delicate situation. Commander Chameakegra is running an experiment that has never been attempted before. She believes in us. She wants to give us a chance.’ He saw Charlene’s fingers tighten on Billy’s arm. He pressed on. ‘She has initiated an experiment. The people who are responsible for the terrible state of our world have been removed. Chameakegra is trying to see if the violent, greedy and power-mad can be reprogrammed and rehabilitated. She believes they can. She wants to prove that with good education, sound government and a new positive philosophy we are capable of being much better than we have been. She believes that humanity has a good side – a side that is empathetic and compassionate – a side that is creative and worth saving.’

Billy did not look convinced by Charlene looked like a frightened rabbit.

Ron sighed and slumped back in his seat, spreading his hands. ‘All I am asking is that we give her a chance. We give her some time. That we judge her by the fruits of her efforts.’ His pleading eyes were meeting a stony resistance. ‘Let us see if the rehabilitation process works and those violent and greedy people come back changed for the better. Let us see if the new energy system, the technology and education bring real improvements. Let’s look to a bright future and see if we can’t banish war and poverty.’

‘So we sit back while they consolidate their control? That’s what you’re asking?’ Billy growled. ‘So they can take our country away.’

The Great James Varda

Posted on by Opher

James Varda – I first met James Varda back in 1987. Roy had taken him on tour with him. That’s a rarity. Roy hardly ever did that. He tended not to use support. This was an exception – and what an exception.

At a number of Harper gigs I had the privilege to see James perform and sit and chat to him before and after his set.

What a contrast. On stage I saw a fiery performer who was full of angst delivering a blistering set of poetic songs that I can only describe as Folk Punk. He had that same vibe as early Harper and early Dylan. Off stage he was quiet, softly spoken and unassuming – very friendly and pleasant.

In 1988 he brought out the most fabulous album – Hunger – on the Awareness label that Roy was on (run by the great Andy Ware). I loved it – it captured that energy and unique English style.

I spoke with Roy about this nascent force and he was very enthusiastic. James was destined for great heights.

Then it went pear-shaped. James toured all the small clubs, did a lot of radio and plugged Hunger like mad. For some reason it failed to take off.

James started recording his follow-up but it wasn’t all smooth running. He had some great new songs but Andy was struggling with the label and James was becoming discouraged with his lack of recognition. The label went bust and Andy offered James the tapes they had recorded. A disillusioned James told him to bin them and walked away. That was it. He’d had enough.

Fifteen years flashed by and James re-emerged, this time on the Small Things Record label. This reincarnation was not as fiery; he’d settled into a pastoral poetic style that I found very captivating. Different but every bit as good. First In The Valley in 2003 and then, ten years later, in 2013 the River and the Stars, were delightful. I was so pleased to have James back with his beautiful craftsmanship (and Nick Harper helping out with some guitar!).

I didn’t have to wait too long for the next album – Chance and Time came out a year later and I eagerly purchased it. That was a shock. Death is not an easy subject to deal with and this album seemed to be telling the story of a terminal illness. Could that be true? I put up a review on my blog and asked the question – was James just using this as a muse for his songs or was it real? Was James dying? James contacted me and told me that yes, sadly, it was true. He had terminal cancer.

When faced with a terminal diagnosis people respond in many different ways. James’s response (after the shock) was to pour it into his songs. The album was stark – the consultation – the progress of the disease and prognosis – but above all a celebration of life and love. The album was an epitaph of joy and wonder in such beautiful poetry and music.

Roy had discovered, promoted and nurtured this incredible talent. The shame is that he had so many lost years and should have been so big. But the good side is that he left us with four fabulous albums and a lot of great memories of memorable gigs.

Check out his great albums. I love them all.

Hunger by James Varda: Amazon.co.uk: CDs & Vinyl

In The Valley: Amazon.co.uk: CDs & Vinyl

The River And The Stars by James Varda by : Amazon.co.uk: CDs & Vinyl

CHANCE AND TIME [VINYL]: Amazon.co.uk: CDs & Vinyl

The Cleansing – 38 – Chapter 19 continued

Posted on by Opher

Detailing the life of a reluctant leader who is giving his all in order to make things work; to make things better. We need more of them.

I write Sci-fi in order to illustrate the human condition.

The Cleansing – (The Sequel to Judgement): Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798278914952: Books

That evening Ron took much needed time off. He was burnt out. Sitting in his favourite armchair in front of his favourite log burner, sipping coffee (three sweeteners plenty of his favourite barista oat milk) by the side of his favourite (and only) wife with Woody at his feet he relaxed. Casting a wistful glance over towards his silent computer with its sad looking office chair, all beat up and worn out, he hadn’t realised how contented he had been stringing words together for nobody to read and relaxing in his quiet orderly life.

‘You look knackered, Ron.’

He smiled at Liz. ‘I stopped being knackered a long time ago. I’ve descended into the fiftieth level of total oblivion.’

‘You need to look after myself.’

‘Look after myself. I’m so busy I’ve forgotten who I am.’

Liz looked worried.

‘There are a million things to do. So much going on. I have to check all the new departments are working. We’re overhauling education. You should see the new techniques and equipment the Federation are bringing in. And they’re creating completely new schools. Amazing. The energy plants are starting up. They call it quantum power. Beyond me. But those little blue Xerces swarm over things and wallop a whole new plant is up and running in no time. They are genius at constructing, so nimble and strong. Schools, power plants, factories, homes, bridges. You name it. The changes are phenomenal.’ Ron was rattling off like a machine gun with a glued trigger. ‘Of course it’s causing no end of kickback. People don’t like change. They’re railing about being banned from various areas. Lots of gripes about the military being dismantled. The biggest thing all over the world is the loss of nationality. I just don’t know what we can do about that. You can’t please some people no matter what you do.’

‘They’re worried, that’s all,’ Liz murmured, reaching over to pat him on the arm. ‘You can’t expect this degree of change without some kick back.’

Ron smiled at her. She was always such a calm, rational head. Just sharing things was a relief. He sipped his coffee, nectar of the gods, and stared at the soothing flames in the log fire.

‘Another huge worry is these bloody protests,’ he frowned deeply, staring into the depths of the fire then looked sideways at Liz. ‘This Billy Smythe is really stirring things up. There are millions following him on line. It’s becoming a monster.’

‘People have to have an outlet for their feelings. That’s good – a safety valve.’

‘Not like this it isn’t. Every boot boy in the country is latching on to it.  That last one at Clacton was appalling. There was all manner of violence. It made us look like a bunch of savages. Just shocking. The thing is that these idiots don’t realise that we are still being judged. There are people in the Federation who want to do away with us.’

‘What? This Commander Chameakegra?’ Liz looked shocked. ‘I thought she was friendly?’ Her eyes opened wide as she stared at Ron, beginning to understand what had made him so scared.

‘No, not Chameakegra,’ Ron said with a weary sigh. ‘She’s fine. There are others. And she’s none too sure about this Commander Grrndakegra who’s carrying out the round up. I think she thinks she’s been put in place to do a job on us.’

‘So, what can you do?’

‘Well all this protest is playing into their hands. The violence is proving their case for them. They want to prove that we’re a violent bunch of yobs who deserve to be exterminated.’

Liz sat pensively staring at the fire before looking across at Ron. ‘You could try going round to see this Billy character, explain things to him and see if you can’t make him see sense.’

Ron looked thoughtful.

Expose the deep state and end America’s regular warmaking!

Posted on by Opher

Trump’s aims!

Reality:

More countries bombed than ever!

Epstein files withheld and redacted.

It wasn’t alien lizards after all – it was Epstein and his billionaire club!

$4 Billion dollars grafted – so far!

Billionaires all given huge tax cuts!

Corruption now rampant!

DOJ weaponised for Trump!

Health care and benefits robbed from the poor!

Trump operates outside all laws and parameters for the benefit of himself and his family & to seek revenge on opposition!

That swamp got one hell of a lot bigger!

Random Thoughts on the Iran War

Posted on by Opher

Another ill-thought through illegal war. So much for the Nobel Peace Prize – I don’t think any President has bombed so many countries. It’s like having a teenager in charge.

Trump doesn’t feel the need to follow any laws or process. He thinks he has all the power so he can simply sign executive orders and even bypass Congress even when it comes to sparking out a major war, sending the Middle East into chaos and affecting world-wide trade – AGAIN!

Iran is a despicable regime – an oppressive, authoritarian theocracy that needs replacing.

I believe:

This evil bunch of corrupt puritanical religious oppressors has systematically suppressed its own people, imposing strict, outdated religious restrictions on women and using extreme force and torture against any opposition.

They have been waging covert war against Israel and destabilising the Middle East though proxies – (Hamas/Hezbollah) which it arms.

They have been targeting the West and are a threat.

They are trying to get long range missiles and nuclear bombs.

Is that sufficient yo warrant a war? I don’t think so.

I’d like to see the world community applying sanctions and pressure to overthrow the regime and allow a democratic process.

If the threat is sufficient for war then I believe that should be through a legitimate legal process involving the UN and Congress.

I believe Starmer was right to stay out of it – but we will inevitably get sucked in.

Trump has gone Gung-ho into war with no clue as to the outcomes.

Netanyahu is calling the shots. He’s been dying to take out Iran (and take the pressure off him and his war crimes and genocide in Gaza).

Trump should have gone through Congress.

There is no idea on how to bring about regime change. There is no government in waiting, organised opposition or mechanism. We’ve seen time and time again the result of wading in and taking out nasty despots (in Iraq, Libya, Syria, Yemen, Lebanon, Sudan, Afghanistan). The vacuum is filled by even worse religious nutters like the Taliban, ISIS and various brutal warlords.

The result of all this destabilisation are rafts of refugees fleeing torture and death.

The people in Iran have no organisation, weapons or leaders with which to oust the regime and take power. It is likely that the regime will continue or there will be civil war and further refugees and instability.

This looks to me like a typical right-wing Trump tantrum – ill-thought through, simplistic, expensive and likely to make things a lot worse.

It takes the attention off EPSTEIN and leaves Netanyahu and Putin laughing!!

Spring is HERE!!!

Posted on by Opher

The sun is out; it’s warming up! Looking forward to some warmth. Brilll!

Took me back sixty-five years. A tousle-haired little boy, equipped with wellingtons, a net and various containers would be cycling off with his little mate Tony Hum to check out all the local ponds for frogspawn.

We’d bring back some for our ponds. I’d built a pit in the bottom of the garden with a pond I’d made from a huge old enamel sink. I’d have an aquarium or two indoors and delight in watching the spawn hatch into tadpoles.

Spring, Summer and Autumn were spent outdoors in nature collecting toads, frogs, newts, lizards and snakes for my pit. Fostered my love and respect for nature.

Still feel the urge!!

How I write

Posted on by Opher

I write out of inspiration and compulsion.

It starts with an idea. That buzzes around my head for a while. I wait until I have another idea and marry them together. Then I place my ideas in a setting. Then a character comes to mind.

When I have those dominoes in place I shove the first one.

Thar first word sets the process in motion. The words tumble out. The ideas develop, the characters spawn and a story coalesces out of my subconscious.

For the duration of the writing I live and breath the story. The characters develop, the setting becomes richer and the story evolves. Often I have no idea what comes next but my subconscious seems to know. The dominoes tumble and one knocks another as I frantically attempt to keep up. It’s intense.

The idea for my latest book – The Time Traveller – came to me a long while ago. I had this idea of going back in time with modern weapons and the effect that would have on ancient armies. It felt too comic book but the idea wouldn’t go away. My mind kept mulling over the thought of missiles and bazookas against ancient armies. I imagined Hannibal and the Punic wars. Then I started thinking about the effect of that power on the human mind. A twentieth century nobody suddenly finding themselves the most powerful man on the planet. What would be the effect on his psyche.

My character had to be rich in order to afford to build a time machine.

I had to have a scientific genius from the backstreets who just needed the money and backing but who did not trust governments.

I chose the Punic Wars as the setting.

It ran from there. I wrote the first draft in eleven days. It flowed and developed a life of its own. I rewrote it in a further four days. It is currently being edited.

The Cleansing – 37 – Chapter 19 continued

Posted on by Opher

Is the democratic process the best way to elect leaders or should they be selected via an interview and application process as with every other job? That might ensure that they are not psychopaths, sociopaths and narcissists and have the right skills to do the job!

The world leader appointed by the aliens did not want to do the job, wasn’t motivated by power or greed, and was a good, able man.

‘UFOR?’

Chameakegra chuckled, immediately dissipating some of the tension. She visibly relaxed and that had a similar effect on Ron.  ‘UFOR is the United Federation Of Races’

‘Right.’

‘Beheggakegri is head of UFOR and a stickler for rules and an easy life. He thinks that all Hydrans are psychotic apes who are beyond all hope. In his view you are all an annoying bunch who should have been dealt with long ago. You are wasting valuable eating time. You Hydrans have failed the assessment and he wants to look for any excuse to terminate you all.’

Ron considered this for a number of seconds then he spoke in a hesitant voice. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, this seems to fly in the face of logic. It seems hypocritical to me.’

Chameakegra looked confused. She’d lived with the philosophy all her life and couldn’t see anything wrong with it. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well,’ Ron shrugged, ‘you have a supposedly morally superior race of highly intelligent bods coming along making judgements on other people. This bunch of people at UFOR decides that we’re too violent so they are going to exterminate us. Is that some kind of oxymoron?’

‘How do you mean?’ Chameakegra was at a loss.

‘What I mean is that it is terrible for us to hurt one another but OK for your lot to wade in and exterminate the whole lot of us. That smacks of hypocrisy to me. Which is the more violent?’

‘But,’ Chameakegra replied searching around for the explanation, digging up the standard reply from her training, ‘It’s for the greater good, the good of the whole Federation, trillions of people. If we allow a canker to set in by permitting a devious, aggressive race in to the Federation it would upset everything. It could cause immense strife, even war. We can’t take the risk. All risks have to be eliminated. That’s how we have achieved such a peaceful coalition of very different races. We have eradicated all violence and created a federation of races based on equality.’

‘Yes,’ Ron agreed, ‘I can see that. But,’ he looked Chameakegra right in the eyes, ‘that doesn’t make it right does it? You can’t say you’ve eradicated violence when you go around destroying billions of other people. That is extreme violence.’

‘But it is done painlessly…’ Chameakegra tailed off, thinking about what Ron had said.

Ron shook his head. ‘Never mind. I reckon we’d better put that to one side for later. Right now we have to do a bit of planning to ensure that the worst doesn’t happen.’

Chameakegra pulled her mind back into focus. ‘Right. Let us carry out some strategic planning. Firstly, we have to prevent any further acts of violence.’

Ron sighed and began to wonder how he was possibly going to achieve that.

‘I will make it a priority to get the extraction completed with the minimum fuss,’ Chameakegra promised. ‘That should no longer cause major disruption. We are basically hunting out the stragglers. There won’t be mass round-ups all over the place. That phase is over. I’ll liaise with Grrndakegra and get that done as painlessly as possible.’

Ron knew who Grrndakegra was. They’d talked about the Giforian Commander who was jointly in charge of the operation. ‘Is she a problem?’ Ron questioned how the operation had been carried out. ‘Only it all seemed very confrontational and overly aggressive.’

Chameakegra agreed but was reluctant to say. Grrndakegra was an unknown factor. ‘I think Grrndakegra is alright. She’s a bit like Beheggakegri, overly officious, that’s all.’

Ron looked doubtful. ‘OK.’

‘I’ll sort Grrndakegra out,’ Chameakegra reassured him, wondering to herself if that was possible, ‘and I’ll see if I can’t rush through the lunar facilities so that we get the extractions out of those camps. That’d remove the focus for disquiet.’

‘If we could start getting a few of the extracted ones back so that people can see that all the conspiracy theories are wrong. That they haven’t been bumped off or had their minds wiped clean.’ Ron mused.

‘Yes, I am sure we can do something. We have the counsellors that the Judge has sorted in place now and some of the facilities are fully up and running. I’ll get things moving on that score.’ She was confident that she could force some movement out of Grrndakegra.

‘Doesn’t need to be a huge number to start with,’ Ron remarked, reflecting on the situation. ‘Just so long as they see that some of those who have been extracted are going to be returned and have not been harmed.’

Chameakegra studied him at length. ‘Good. Now the onus of responsibility moves on to you. You need to get all the departments of government up to speed. That is crucial’

Ron nodded, fully knowing how difficult that was going to be – new structures, new people, new systems, new philosophy. It was going to take some organising and setting up. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll get them organised. I’ve got some good people in place.’

She smiled. She knew he had good people in place; she’d placed them there. ‘I’d start with security,’ she suggested. ‘Controlling that violent minority is an absolute priority.’

‘On it,’ Ron replied, wondering how he was going to deal with that one. He looked thoughtful. ‘I’ll chase up the education side. I know that’s more long-term but that is crucial. Your guys are putting in the new energy system. That will make a big difference – when everyone starts to receive free energy that’s bound to create a positive response.’ He strained his brain to think of what else might be important. ‘It’s going to be a mixed bag on the environment side, I’m afraid. There will be those who think that helping nature along is a great thing to do and there are those who have lost livelihoods or just object to being restricted. They think they’ve got a right to roam where they like and resent anyone telling them where they can’t go, particularly aliens. There’s bound to be some unrest.’

‘Can’t be helped,’ Chameakegra said. ‘If we are going to restore the ecosystem it has to be done.’

Ron agreed. ‘The decommissioning of all military equipment and bases is proceeding well. Although your lot are carrying it out we have human involvement. That ones more of a short-term loss big long-term gain. The worst is over. The personnel have already been demobbed along with all the personnel from supporting industries. That’s a lot of displaced, highly exasperated people..’

‘We are ensuring that everyone gets a good measure of food and enough of your ‘money’ to have a good quality of life.’

‘That certainly takes a little of the wind out of sails,’ Ron agreed, nodding in appreciation. ‘I was going to ask you about that. What is this food stuff?’

The Giforian chuckled. ‘Do they not like it?’

‘Oh, they like it alright, once they’ve got used to it. In fact it’s delicious. It’s just that nobody knows what it is.’

‘It’s designed to suit your pallets, to taste really good. It has all the nutrients required and the various flavours and textures maintain interest over time.’

‘Yes, but what is it? Plant or animal or both? Some tastes and feels like meat; some like vegetables and the sweet dessert things are simply to die for. But nobody can identify what the flavours actually are. They’re like nothing we have tasted before.’

Once again Chameakegra found it amusing. ‘None of that food has ever been near to a plant or animal. It was designed in a lab and created in food producing plants. Our research has obviously paid off if people are enjoying it.’

‘It’s certainly a bonus for us that nobody is going hungry,’ Ron remarked, looking extremely impressed. ‘For the first time in the whole of history there are no starving people anywhere on the planet. Every bit of good news helps. We’ll win ‘em over.’

‘But back to those displaced workers; giving them food and money on goes part of the way; they want jobs.’

‘We have set up retraining centres,’ Chameakegra reminded him.

‘That’ll help but it’s too slow. There are a lot of furious people out there whose life has been turned upside down.’

‘Can’t move much faster,’ Chameakegra replied looking thoughtful. ‘Education, caring professions, environmentalists, energy workers. There’s no end of opportunities. Big expanding fields.

‘I think it’s making a difference but there’s a real cyber war going on. Some people are deliberately putting out fake news, conspiracy and lies to confuse and enrage. Nobody can believe anything anymore. We need to counter that.’

‘Neff will have some ideas on that,’ Chameakegra chuckled. ‘They’ll not be a match for her.’

‘So,’ Ron reflected, ‘all departments are up and running, Things are beginning to settle and we have a plan. ‘We just have to wait until everything has settled and hope it holds together long enough so no more violent outbursts scupper us.’

Chameakegra frowned at him. ‘All that is great; if it proceeds fast enough. But it skirts around the real issue, the issue that is fanning the flames.’

Ron nodded. ‘Nationalism.’

‘Right, we’ll need to discuss just how we are going to address these cultural values so that we take the sting out of these primitive tribal nationals.’

‘I don’t reckon you should go around calling them primitives, for a start,’ it was Ron’s turn to produce a wry laugh. ‘Though I’d bloody agree with you. They’re a right shower. But if you go calling them primitive that’ll really rile them up.’