Humanity. Flawed by design.

To be human is to be flawed. If you do not believe that you have any flaws, you are a risk to the wellness of society. How much more proof do you need?

This is a survivor of the Confederate run Andersonville Prison. It is in the National Archives. Brady Collection. One of my late Grandfather’s nephews was Norton Parker Chipman. General Chipman would successfully try and have executed the only Confederate to experience capital punishment after the Civil War for War Crimes.

I am a broken man, but a proud Chipman. That is why I am so fearless now. Here I reflect on things the way I remember them. That mean this is merely my reality, seen through a privileged lens. Yet still I strive for the truth. These are not scientific writings. I am reflecting in a time of environmental and geopolitical crisis. If you are unaware of the political conundrums I am hinting at, you are also among the privileged few. Put down the Grey Poupon and take a look or feel around. Nothing in this world is absolute…and nothing in this world doesn’t change…no matter how hard you try to keep it “your” way.

I have spent much time ruminating and self-reflecting during my life. I have repeatedly made terrible but socially recoverable mistakes. Me. No one else is to blame. You can immediately reflect on what you did wrong without looking for a scapegoat when you make yourself the only equation that you can solve. This is how I bounce back harder and stronger. Just be aware that you will lose a bit of your overall “hit points”, just like when you are resurrected in Dungeons and Dragons. It does permanent damage…yet that damage can be what you need.

I tried to do the right thing and maintain one standard that I ended up trying so hard that I took myself out of the fight. My weak ass wanted an out so I drank alcohol and used it to check out when I couldn’t cope. I was always a binge drinker. I grew up in a Swedish household in a tourist area on Chautauqua Lake New York for most of my life. Very white and very religious, like most of rural America. At this time, nearly no drugs and lots of alcohol. I am afraid it may have gotten worse.

Alcohol no longer works for me. It isn’t even an option and hasn’t been for a long time. Are you drinking? Even a little? It is not worth it. I promise you that when you stop your brain will get a bit sharper. If you take the time to connect with your mind and body you may be awarded even more awareness. There is no doubt in my mind now I am ramping up my mind again. Try it. When you want to quit, alcohol makes it WAY TOO EASY to achieve your goal of quitting and checking out. It is the opposite of a force multiplier, in any situation. Except maybe in making unwanted children. Musk might take them if they are white, right Elon? Emerald City Apartheid Rich Boy…#ECARB. May I will throw a D on for “douche”. #DECARB. Ah. I like that.

Many men and women who join into certain human activities like War among others, are literally forced to face many challenges. It is what makes a warrior. I was a triple volunteer they say in the Army. You volunteer to join the Army, then you volunteer to jump out of airplanes and then to be an Army Ranger. I have heard soldiers bitch but they never complain. Bitching is exchanged among themselves but not meant for others to hear. Big, big difference. I am not engaging in either. I am teaching through reflection. Myself mostly. I hope you don’t mind.

Absolutes. Are all of my guys going to make it through the day today? Alive? Unhurt? Well led? Absolute. Read my poem “One Less than Yesterday”.

And the Contradictions. That damn word again. In the struggle for a peaceful humanity, this damn word. Reading about how Adolf Hitler loved animals and was a vegetarian and couldn’t eat meat…but could popularize a ideology that blamed others (Rochat 2021). This ideology used false tropes, creating an “other”, thereby ordering and damning to death 6 million fellow human beings. When I learned this at a very young age It just validated my infatuation with conflict. I putridly despised it and the people that caused it. That hasn’t gone away.

I became a soldier. My interests, dreams and curiosity made that choice for me before I was born and manifested in me from no outside influences. While I did follow this charge, I was aware and empathetic to not only my soldiers and our partners and allies, but also my prescribed enemy. In Afghanistan, we had so many different categories of origin of our enemy combatants that we were told not to refer to them as “Taliban” in our reports. They are to be now called, “Insurgents”. Whatever. Same assholes shooting at my soldiers.

Guided Bullets.

I got an A in statistics. I understand probability and what the diagrams mean. I have a grasp of the scientific thresholds that govern agreed upon tolerance that show significance. Want to know something significant? How my guys all survived physically the shitstorm they got into repeatedly confounds my scientific sensibilities. Here it manifests.

Hence this effort. The poetry. The shared reflections. We as humans yearn for acceptance. This is varied on a spectrum. I yearn to be objective. Neutral, like my Swedish ancestors and all the NGO’s the nordics still have helping all over the world. I yearn to understand but also want to reach out now and heal others so that I myself can heal. Do you hear me out there? Veterans? Humanity?

I will hint again that I am onto something that could help us better prepare and process the “limin” once it ends…even while it is ongoing. I will strive for this secret while I listen for the communicative artifacts of the past. A story of the dead. They call to me and tell me not to let them forget. I am answering that call.

Human fragility. Deaths probability. One of the other platoons in Afghanistan had a solider that had his weapon shot out of his hand. Went straight through and somehow missed him. He later received another hit, this time from a mostly spent round that lodged in his trapezius muscle along the side of his neck. I think he popped it out himself. I might be wrong but it was another “lucky” outcome. Twice…

I mentioned in earlier essay that I had a soldier who got hit twice…both times his Kevlar helmet saved his life although RPG fragments were deposited throughout parts of his body and neck and remain there today. Every time he moves or looks in the mirror, he remembers.

After a while shit like this goes on and continues to happen. Ask any soldier about these stories. It has been going on since war began. What the hell is going on? Sometimes it is uncanny. I talk about my intuition…or “correlons” per Schiffer’s theory. My intuition tells me that there is something more to find. Something possibly unknown or anomalous. Hidden in plain sight as some words on a hidden page I hope to find. So I search.

I follow science. I absolutely do. It is making some interesting legitimate discoveries in consciousness I am keeping tabs on. Mind blowing work. All this research may be on a collision course with our current laws and paradigms. Something to consider for now.

Now one last thought. I am not nuts. I am one to not let bullies divide me from all of my friends. Particularly when my friends happen to be every goddamn one of you.

I was given just enough talent to regurgitate some things I learned to reflect upon, while still not knowing if I make sense to anyone. That is not the point. Laugh at me if you want. I have then at least entertained you! If my words help one person…these efforts were not in vain. Maybe my children some day? My modus operandi. What is yours?

Prologue.

I have been having the same nightmare for over 8 months now. This has never occurred in my entire life, now over 1/2 a century. In the past they were not so frequent and NEVER the same one. I have had one lucid dream and once had sleep paralysis but never a repeat dream. I go to the same place, scenario, same locations and people. Same sense of anxiety and hostility. Long movements, treacherous terrain and opponents. So many people I know or knew show up. Mostly as allies, but not all.

I has to be nothing. Just like the soaked bed I wake up in 3 - 4 or more nights a week from these dreams. Am I being told something? I certainly hope not. It is not good. Not good at all.

Look around at us veterans. I am not an anomaly. I am simply standard fare. Loyalty, Duty, Respect, Selfless Service, Honor, Integrity, and Personal Courage…

These are real American watchwords. Need I remind anyone?