David Larson - The Myth of the Anal Probe

“So, you mean that not everyone actually fighting in this war wanted control of this region.”

“Unfortunately, that’s exactly right. One of Earths’ poets summed it up pretty good in the beginning of the 20th century. He wrote ‘those that I fight I do not hate. Those that I guard I do not love’.”

“And yet they were actively killing people that they had never met, never talked to, and bore no individual ill will towar,d because a leader or group of leaders told them to,” Tawny said amazed.

“Yeah,” Mike said, “that’s pretty much true.”

“How do these groups of people actually go about making this war happen?”

“War,” Mike said, starting slowly. He realized the ignorance of the words that were about to fall out of his mouth like so much puss from an infected wound. But he had come this far and there was no turning back now, “is an ongoing act of attrition.”

“In what way?” Tawny asked.

“Each side has spent quite a lot of time, money and manpower developing new ways to kill people. The idea is to keep the technological cutting edge. To stay one step ahead of your enemies. And if you don’t have any enemies at the present time, then you must stay ahead of enemies that you might have in the future.

“When two armies meet,” Mikes lip was starting to quiver just a little. “The idea is for each group to kill as many of the other group as is humanly possible before they have a chance to kill too many of the people in your group…”

Mike hesitated. He felt dirty. He felt like he was walking around a beautiful pasture smashing baby chicks with his bare feet with every step.

“Kill how?” Tawny asked.

“Oh Jesus,” Mike thought. “Don’t ask me that. Don’t ask me the one question that not even humans can stand to ask themselves. Soldiers are simply lost or they gave their lives or whatever. No one tells the truth. No one says a fellow human being was blown apart, or a child died clawing at her lungs as poison gas ripped her beautiful tiny body apart from the inside out. Or that a young man was forced to beat a fellow human being to death with an empty rifle. Don’t make me explain these things. And please for the love of God don’t make me tell you how we justify it.”

“Killing,” Mike said. He was leaning forward with his forearms resting on his legs. His head hung as he starred at the floor. “Killing is done in whatever way it takes to do away with a person in an opposing army. Artillery was developed that flings explosives into groups of people blowing them apart. Guns have come quite a way as well. These things are small pieces of artillery that are able to be easily carried by a man. They discharge small metal pellets at very high rates of speed. These guns are directed at other armies. They tear flesh apart, dismember people, or worse, wound them, or disfigure them for the rest of their lives. Leaving the survivors to carry around incredible pain until they finally can die of their wounds or old age,” Mike was sobbing “when armies get to close together and the long-distance weapons are no longer of use people wade into each other and murder every one they can get their hands on in any way possible. They stab each other with knives, or beat each other to death with rocks,” he was shaking now. “They bite, and punch, and claw, each other to death because someone told them they had to do it to show how much of a patriot they were. Or prove how ready they were to defend their way of life…”

He stopped and looked up at Tawny. His eyes were red and swollen and tears freely streamed down both cheeks.

“I am so sorry,” he crooked out. “Jesus Christ, I am just so… sorry.”

“That’s ok,” Tawny said. Her cheeks were flushed and she was clearly horrified. But there was also a deep look of pity on her face for Mike. “Why don’t we take a break. Or just stop this all together if it’s too much for you.”

“No,” mike said as he rubbed his face. “No, I’m good. Let’s go on.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “We certainly don’t have too.”

“No,” Mike said. “Let’s do this. I’m ok… really.”

“OK,” Tawny said “but just let me know if you want to stop.

“I will, thanks.”

“OK, Mike,” Tawny went back into the interview. “I know something of national imagery from my time I’ve spent on your planet. Could you explain that for our viewers?”

“I think,” Mike said “what about national imagery do you want to know about specifically?”

“Well,” Tawny said as she tapped her pen on her chin, “flags for example. I’ve always found that concept fascinating.”

“Flags,” Mike said. He had never actually thought about flags before. “Each country has its own flag. A flag is a piece of cloth that has been designed to represent specific things about that country. It’s used to make those people feel unified and make them act as one. For example, the flag that represents my country has a blue square in one corner of it, and the blue square contains white stars. The rest of the flag has red and white stripes. Each thing on that flag has a specific meaning. The blue square stands for one thing, the stars stand for another, and even the color and number of stripes stand for something else.”

“We start teaching our children at a very young age to pledge their very lives to this flag, and to protect it against other people that are being taught to do the same thing for their flags.”

“Why would you teach your children to die for a piece of cloth?” Tawny asked.

“Because that piece of cloth represents your country. And letting anything bad happen to that piece of cloth is the same thing as letting something bad happen to your country. We write poems about our flag, and songs about it.”

“You write songs about a colored piece of cloth?” Tawny asked.

“Yes,” Mike said. He was pushing through the stupidity of human nature now. “Eventually a group of people with a national flag pick one of these songs to be representative of that nation and that nations flag. That song is called the national anthem.”

“All countries have this?” Tawny asked.

“As far as I know,” Mike said. “At least all of the bigger countries do.”

“This song,” Mike went on ,“is played whenever the flag is presented in public.”

“Any time?” Tawny asked.

“Well, yeah,” Mike said. “Like at the beginning of sporting events.”

“Yes,” Tawny said, “I want to be sure and get back to sporting events later.”

She made a note on her pad.

“Anyway,” Mike went on “at the beginning of, say… a football game, a giant flag is brought out onto the field. The national anthem is played and people are expected to stand up and sing along with the music.”

“And what if they don’t?” Tawny asked.

“If they don’t they are usually subject to public scorn and hatred. They are labeled as radicals, or unpatriotic. Sometimes fights break out because someone sits during the playing of this song, or even worse turns their back on the flag.”

“If someone turns their back on this piece of cloth,” Tawny asked, “people might attack them?”

“I’m afraid so,” mike said “we spend quite a lot of time in my country yelling at each other about how they should be reverent about… the cloth.”

“I’d like to go back to something you said before if you don’t mind,” Tawny said.

“Certainly,” Mike said.

“You said that sometimes religion is a thing that could make two different groups of people go to war. Could you explain religion to me?”

“I have to assume you personally know something of religion from your deep space work,” Mike said “is there anything here that correlates, or am I starting with s blank canvas here?”