An Unwelcome Development

Some women are governed by emotion and some by logic. Some men are governed by emotion and some by logic. If we are to continue having this discussion we should probably move it to another topic besides this one. Maybe a mod can help us move this? No use cluttering up Zen's book with our disagreement.

 

Opps my apologies Zen for hijacking your thread... I will see if we can get it moved

These overgeneralization of men and women.... Disturb me... We are different... Quite frankly I think that is a good thing.

And I think its necessary to respect those difference... Men currently are being emasculated by this very feminine culture.... Women are being taught to not respect masculine traits. Which is not good for our culture or us as individuals... I'll stop now and see if we can get this discussion moved

 

I would agree in the specific case, but the 80/20 rule is valid for the general case.
Yes, I also agree this is Zen's thread.

 

Well yes this is Zen's thread, and if he would give us smaller chunks of the story we wouldn't be able to drag it off course. Having said that, women have this maternal instinct to nurture and preserve, as a man I just want to go out and kill something.

 

I love women, hold 'bitch power' at the highest social level of control; having been married seven times and still love all of them as much as I ever did…and don't have to feed or support any of them, just the kids and I could tell you other stories…but, hate is not in the equation, survival is.

 

Don't worry about the thread hijacking. Just shows that my story is making you think. Which, in reality, is about the best compliment you could pay an author.


I was going to need Lavelle. And it was time to rotate people home. Despite her objections, I sent Sadie home. Mrs. Petrie and the Jarvis' were more than ready to get back to our 'safe' neighborhood, but Deacon Smith wanted to stay on. He'd been spending a lot of time in the project, coming back on to grab something to eat before going back out. He usually grabbed a bit more food than he needed to go with.
Fine. I didn't see how his ministrations would hurt and they might actually do some good. Not just in the physical and spiritual aid he gave, but the intel he'd bring back.
After long consideration, I sent Juice, Frank, and Stan back home, along with their teams. That left me with Lyle and his people until Lavelle got here. A small risk, a short window of vulnerably, one I was willing to take.


Gracie came by, after everyone had left. We greeted each other shyly, like lovers after a big fight, not sure where we stood, if there was even a relationship left. She did the hard part, coming over. I made the next move.
“I'm so sorry. I didn't know her long, but she became important to me.” Gracie sniffled, looked me in the eye and then away. I reached out first one hand, then the other, gathering up hers. She didn't pull away.
“I know you were close and it hurts me, the pain you have, and that I had some part in it.” A big sob racked her and I could feel her knees start to go. I pulled her in, a gentle hug, her arms crossed in front of her, creating distance, keeping me out.
But she wasn't pushing me away.
“She's left a big hole in many lives.” That was the trigger I was looking for. My last words let loose the torrent, my shirt soon soaked with her tears, mine mixing with hers. I held her tight, against the racking, the raging of her sorrow, giving her what she needed, a chance. Her first real opportunity to let go. Not just Zelda. All of it.
Moving my hand to her head I smoothed her hair, smoothing, soothing. Still no reaction, despite the oft heard admonition; “never touch a black woman's hair!” “I'm sorry, Gracie. I'm so sorry I got Zelda involved in my stupid plan. If I hadn't, she'd still be alive.”
That got a reaction. Gracie pushed against me, hard, breaking my hug. She stuck a long graceful index finger in my face, almost touching my nose.
“Oh no you don't!”
“What? I know you're angry at me...”
She didn't let me finish. “This ain't 'bout you, no sir! You didn't kill Zelda!” I started again, but she saw it and held a hand up, forestalling me. “Whether you showed up or not, Zelda would have been involved. That's who she was. She would be doing something to be helping her people. And that would have put her in harm's way. Wouldn't be the first time. Not even close.”
“But I didn't stop it, either!” I managed to get in, my guilt not easily sidetracked
“Which time?”
“Huh?” perplexed.
“Which time did you not stop it? You come in here, the big man, the big savior, got your plan, but what about the other times Zelda stood up to the evil, for her community. This isn't the first time she's been shot.”
That news stunned me, and I realized I really didn't know the woman I'd met just two days ago. How could I? Yet I made assumptions, I acted like I had it all figured out.
“I'm an idiot.”
“Probably. Most menfolk is. Don't know why you'd be any different.” I searched her eyes, her body language for context. And came up empty.
“What can I do, now? How can I help? Or is it too late?”
Gracie got quiet, head down and tilted. Looking up from under her brows. “Will you help me bury my friend?”

“Buy you a drink?” we'd put Zelda in the ground, the Deacon said some pretty words, the large crowd had wandered off, leaving Kiko, Gracie, the Deacon and I. We slowly walked back to the warehouse. We sat on the loading dock, legs dangling, sipping some smokey bourbon out of Dixie cups. I'm not sure any of them were drinkers, I wasn't, but it seemed like the right thing to do.
“To Zelda!” I held my flimsy cup up and then took a sip, interested in the conflicting feeling the liquid gave, a smooth burn down the throat, turning to warmth in my belly and a buzz in my head.
We sat, contemplating, taking an occasional, cautious drink. I took a moment to fill them in on the meeting I'd had earlier. Kiko had been there, but the other two hadn't.

“You're going to start training these people in the morning? Here?” Again, I couldn't get a read on Gracie.
“Yes, initially. I'm not sure where we'll do the live fire training. I'll have to scout out a location. Why?”
She looked at Kiko, who looked at me. He answered for Gracie. “We could take the training too?”
“Sure. Certainly. I should have asked. I got the impression nobody from the community wanted anything to do with us after the drive by.”
“Deh people dem tired of being kicked around by whoever does feel like it. Dere be plenty ah dem does want guns.”
“Just to be clear, we'll train pretty much anyone, but we won't be giving anyone guns until after they've successfully completed the training. Cool?” I made eye contact to drive home my seriousness on the matter.
Gracie and Kiko both nodded their agreement.

My radio came to life. Lyle was back behind the '06 on the hill. He gave me a head's up that cars were inbound.
Ours.
A few moments later I was shaking hands with Lavelle and his people. Last out of the cars was a sheepish Jacob. I hadn't asked for him, but I hadn't told him to stay home either. He approached hesitantly. I kept a neutral expression, which some people find intimidating, Jacob kept coming, but he had to work at it, unsure of my reaction to his arrival.
I let him off the hook, a smile breaking across my face and opened my arms for a hug. The relief was palpable.
“Is it OK that I'm here?” still needing that last bit of confirmation.
“Absolutely! I've missed having you around. You up for it?” I looked him up and down. He seemed pretty good for someone that had nearly died. Ah! The healing power of youth!
“Fiona mind you coming?”
Jacob's smile vanished. “We've been fighting. I'm sure she's glad I'm here.”
“Oh. Sorry dude. Anything I can do?”
He shook his head. “No. I don't know. Things were great until that friend of yours showed up. Then she started acting funny.”
I didn't ask who the friend was, nor correct him on the nature of our relationship. “Funny how?”
“Like, I don't know, like she hates him. But every time I check, I catch her looking at him. If she notices, she gets mad at me.”
I shook my head, commiserating with him, then it hit me. “Shit!” My exclamation startled Jacob. “What?”
“I just realized I forgot to tell Sadie that Shaffley showed up. Damn!” Too late to do anything now. She's probably already figured it out. I cursed myself for letting that slip my mind and warning her so she wouldn't be caught off guard. Unprepared.”

We pushed our women troubles aside and I gave Lavelle and Jacob the fifty cent tour. Finishing up at the warehouse, we sat down to map out what the next week would look like. Weapons training, of course, starting with the basics and moving on to some advanced work. Advanced just being able to do the basics regardless of what else is going on. The eight to ten hour days would be broken up with other important skills, observation and reporting, working in small teams, first and self aid.

We sorted through the weapons available to us. The AR s got set aside for our own us. I wanted to standardize as much as possible and most of my folks already had them. Pistols we had the most of, enough that everyone would be able to have them. Again, going for commonality, I pulled the seven Glocks out and put them in our pile. That left a motley assortment.

“You've got all kinds of stuff here.” Lavelle lowered the hammer on a Sig 225.“Going to make training difficult.”
“Isolate out all the DA/SA pistols, it's what we have the most of. Maybe enough to go around. If not, then we'll just with the Israeli method.”
Jacob and Lavell looked at me, waiting for an explanation.
“Condition Three” I looked a question at them. I got a brief flicker of almost recognition from Lavelle, nothing from Jacob.
“Chamber empty, magazine full.”
Jacob looked at me like I was nuts. “But. But, then you'd have to rack the slide before you use the gun.”
Lavelle nodded. “Yeah, Ok, I've heard of that. As opposed to 'cocked and locked'.”
“Right. Which is Condition One. The story goes that the Israelis got all sorts of weapons from all sorts of places, and the easiest way to teach people to use whatever they might come across was to go with the lowest common denominator, Condition Three. It's not optimal, I know. Hopefully we have enough of the double action/single action pistols so we can stick with one manual of arms.”
“Even when we all had the same pistols, the M9 Beretta, they made us carry them chamber empty.”
I gave Lavelle a sympathetic shake of the head. “Don't get me started. That wasn't a manual of arms thing. They didn't trust you guys not to have accidents.”
“We still had idiots pulling ND s!”
“Well sure. Treat people like idiots and they won't disappoint you.”
“You mentioned that before, when we were training our people. Pig something or other.”
“Pygmalion Effect.”
“That's it. Pygmalion Effect. You were right. Saw it work a number of times.”
“It's almost like I know what I'm talking about.” I produced a self satisfied smile for them. They both looked at me, sadly, slowly shaking their heads.
“Do you really think he believes his own bullshit?” Lavelle looked at Jacob.
“I wonder how Sadie puts up with it.” Jake returned.

They had their fun, at my expense, but it was time to move on. “I want you two to start watching the trainees. Take note of them, their abilities and attitudes.”
“That's a little vague.” Lavelle prompted.
“I want to re-organize our forces a bit.”
“So this isn't about getting these people set up to protect themselves?” Jacob connected the dots and realized he was missing some.
“Well sure, that's the driver. But I want to go further with it.”
“What's that look like?” Lavelle, the consummate NCO wanted the details he needed to do his job.
“Ok. Three things.” I held up an index finger. “We spend a week getting a local group armed and ready to defend and police themselves. While we are doing that, we need to build ties between our groups. We need an alliance with these folks. Form a bond and if they feel beholden to us, that cool. As long as we don't take that too far.”
“Too far? Isn't it a good thing if these people owe us?”
“If obligation is heavy enough, people will drop it. Worse, they will resent us.” Lavelle answered Jake like an inscrutable oriental master. Reminding me of my good fortune in his association.
My middle finger joined the index. “We are going to review our current forces. The structure, organization, armaments, etc. One of the things I want you to look for is people that we could incorporate into our own teams. It will help cement our bond with these people and it will increase our size.”
“Review TOE, look for quality recruits. Check.” Lavelle had his pocket notebook out.
“Teeohee?”
“Try to keep up” I teased Jacob. “T. O. E. Table of Organization and Equipment.”
“it's kinda like a blue print of an army. How many men, in what size units, how they are organized and what equipment they have.”
“Do we need to do that? We aren't an army.”
I looked at Lavelle, who took it. “Need? Probably not. But it keeps things straight, and will become more important as we get bigger.” He looked at me as he spoke those last four words.
No question, the man was sharp.

Ring finger joined the other two. “We are going to create a separate team. Outside of the normal command structure. They will receive specialized training. I want both of you looking for candidates.”
“from this new group of people? What are we looking for? What traits?. Better, what will they be tasked with?”
“Fit bodies and sharp minds. Athleticism. Quick thinking and problem solving. Willing to step up. Not fearless, necessarily, but willing to take calculated risks. And Spirit. Above all, they have to have Spirit to persevere, to win regardless of how bleak things look.”
“Task?” Lavelle repeated.
“I'm not entirely sure yet.” I hedged. I shrugged my left shoulder. “Just a hunch, I guess. Or a cue from history. There always seems to be a need for Special Forces.” I noticed thaT Jacob was sitting a little taller, leaning in a bit. Attentive. Keen.
“Can I try out for it?” Managing not to smile at the earnestness, I looked at Lavelle like I was asking his opinion. He played his part, shrugging his shoulders. I turned my attention from him, back to Jacob who was doing a solid imitation of an eager puppy trying hard to be good and almost succeeding in keeping his entire body from shaking with excitement.
“I hope so.”
My answer confused him. He blinked his eyes a few times, processing. “So I can?” He got out. A peek at Lavelle told me he was having as hard a time as me at keeping smiles from our faces and the laughter bottled up.
“I suppose you better.” I got out, still maintaining. Barely. This didn't help poor Jake out much.
“Why?”
“Because you'll be leading them.”

 

The time is fast arriving to start building and developing the 'in' place from which all action and command springs from an almost mysterious leadership…and building that pyramid in such a manner that there is always a place near the top of any eager, willing, and wise achiever. n alls dat sheet & stuff! ;-)

 

Back to hi jacking =)

 

Based upon the action in the story line it is apparent that soon there will be far too many women, time to take a lesson from the mormons and the 'old' books and reinstitute polygamy in order to preserve the peace and protect the family. ;-)

 

Facepalm really? If anyone tried that I would slice their nuts off... I have no patience for this kind of thinking.

It's no different than today's politicians who think they know what the population needs. I refuse to exchange one totalitarian leadership for another....

 

I really don't mind the hijacks if the discussions are relevant. Whole point of the book is to think about the various permutaions so we are somewhat prepared for them.

I don't think anything needs to be done about the unbalanced sex ratio. Things have a way of working themselves out without outside interference.
Still, I hadn't really considered it. So thanks, I'll have to fit it into the story line somewhere.

 

OMG he is watching us, I feel special, like short bus special...

 

When women in a 'movement' of any kind out number the men by more than 10 to 1…formal solutions are called for. Old Joseph Smith solved his problem for the LSD church with a revelation…making it a requirement that husbands be found for these extra women, many from Europe fleeing desperate times there…and seeking the security of a community of their own making. (Truth be known, we in the US practice serial polygamy…rather than the ancient familial version where everyone lived together.)

I'm really not worried about my nuts being sliced off…even though I've been married seven times, love them all as much as I ever did, don't have to feed and house any of them and they support themselves quite well without any input from me (no double entendre intended). ;-)

Thinking of such things though…I do b wantin dat toad scrotum coin purse to keeps ma Zeds in & sheet lik dat!

 

I've been thinking about Keith's suggestions about what to do with the prisoners. If you kill them and marry all the women to only a few men it narrows the gene pool down too much.

I vote we keep them and Keith can go harvest their semen. =) Artifical insemination isn't that hard and we can broaden the gene pool

 

Yeah but gang thugs usually carry STDs. Not worth the risk.

 

Da b betta dead than fed! ;-)

 

Broadening the gene pool where nignogs and toads are concerned is counter productive. But, having said as much before, harvesting their meat for dog food and using their hides to make leather…the blood & bones also make great fertilizer for the crops that in a tropical climate might have to be raised in diminishing and depleted soil, just the organic gardener coming out in me n all dat sheet & stuff! ;-)

 

If you love your people you are 'Social' and if you love your nation you are a 'Nationalist' so I am fast concluding that if the island 'nation' our 'actors herein' in which they find themselves need an all encompassing social structure that can actually cross all racial and social lines…and two parties in this situation are not required, the tent can be all inclusive with 'ward healers' and such to maintain control; therefore, I am putting forth: "The Social Nationalist Island People's Party" SNIPP for short. ;-)

We're talking about developing a tribal society…in inclosed communities such as prisons all politics is racial and that's a fact…no help is coming from the mainland, the social agenda on the island must be brought under control with wise/firm leadership without creating a vacuum; it's called family…a very big and extended family.

This all goes hand in hand with developing the 'in' place at the top of the pyramid, royalty will evolve with all its bugs and boos n sheet & stuff like dat. Next, someplace permanent to hold court; think throne room with visiting dignitaries and elders holding court with 'dear leader' and his staff…bring the guilty son of a bitch in, guilty; now; hang him/her! ;-)

 

I would pay good money to watch you try to cut Keith's nuts off...

 

Lol I never said Keith's just that I would not tolerate mandatory behavior of multiple wives who do all the work while the guy sits on his butt