💾 Archived View for midnight.pub › posts › 804 captured on 2022-07-16 at 14:47:58. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
⬅️ Previous capture (2022-06-04)
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Evening, Midnight Pub. I'm settling in with a hopped cider. Something to dull the sharp knife of anxiety and keep the bad thoughts away.
I've never really considered what the term "fog of war" means. From my cushy position in the US born after the Soviet Union, war has always been something that happens elsewhere. And no matter if the outcome is good or bad, water still comes through the pipes, electricity through the wires, and food is on the shelves. I can make plans with the next year, with the illusory confidence that nothing could possibly make them go awry.
Well, war still isn't here. It's still on the other side of the globe, across an ocean and a continent. I still have food, and electricity, and water, and the people I know are still safe. But every second of the past few days have felt clouded, like I'm pushing my way through a thick forest at night, unsure of what's coming up beyond the light of my flashlight. Like a fog. Wow, the phrase makes sense, and isn't simply a mechanic in Sid Meier's Civilization.
I don't want to hear a souped-up 2006 Toyota Camry revving its engine as it goes by my window and wonder if that's the air raid sirens going off. I don't want to go to bed wondering if I'll get to wake up. I don't want to wake up to my phone screaming an alert and thinking the nukes have finally dropped, even though it's just an Amber Alert.
I'm scared. Perhaps I'm dramatic, but the last time I felt like this was two years ago, reading news about a new contagion across the ocean. The next week, on my continent, but everything is still okay, it's on the opposite side. The next day, it's on this side. The next, the adjacent city. Then it's here. You all know the story, you all lived it. And everyone reading this came out the other side.
I hope we can come out of the other side of this fog.
When you see it you can hardly believe you ever didn't, and ego flare-ups shroud - i.e. fog - it with one "I Me Mine" tied behind its back, yet sufficient ego attenuation (i.e. no longer i-dentifying with the seeming subjective side of the subject/object coin) and it suddenly couldn't be clearer that the opposite - if not inverse! - of out(ward) is in(ward)....
Said another way (it can take a while to find the words that work - in a "triggering the seeing" sense - for one's particular case of ego-mania), YOU ARE NOT THE MODEL OF YOU that - in the so-called life that is but a dream - goes by the name *said* (haha!) you and other seeming instantiations of free-willed individuality call it as though it were a thing....
<clears fingertips throat>
Look at what looks... feel attention/awareness turn back upon itself instead of on silly models.
Yes, this is all modeling, because words re-present concepts which are mind stuff which is a-level-below-that re-presentation of <words can't go there>.
Yet again: the seeming snake disappears the instant the rope is seen....
Ukraine now has an International Brigade!
I'm not scared by it, I just feel defeated.
There's something peaceful about accepting the possibility that you might die. For one, the world might not get better, and so you've likely already lived out the best parts of your life. For another, the wealth you've scrimped and saved your entire life that barely got you by can be transferred to your next of kin, and they'll be much better off for it. You will live on through them. If you're a digital artist/programmer of sorts, then your works will live on in various repositories or online portals, and if you license it right, people will use your work as a stepping stone to greater works.