INDRAJIT—Russia now massively outproduces occupied Europe. Iran massively outproduces occupying ‘Israel’. China massively outproduces everyone. Industrial war is a game of industrial production and America has deindustrialized rapidly. They’ve outsourced much of their war production across long supply lines they cannot secure and they would depend on Chinese resources to attack China. America would be stupid to start World War III given these material conditions, but unfortunately they are.
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INDRAJIT—So much evil, so much evil, so much evil, and they’re getting away with it. The evil keeps happening and even accelerating. The ghetto that dared rebel is being exterminated, and now they’re massacring Lebanese. The White Empire (all the countries Pedro lists, without the mouthful) wants us to see and see clearly. This is what happens when you rebel. We kill your children, we destroy your hospitals, we uranium the fields. This is what they want the whole world to see—starved, sickened people, genocided every single day—in our phones, in our homes, on TV. This is the public torture and execution of an entire people, entire cities of martyrs marched into the Cable-TV Colosseum, to assert the power of Empire most aggressively.
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INDRAJIT—The forest that losers like Spuds miss for the trees is history. He spent his whole life retreating but doesn’t connect the dots. He gets the details right—that America’s bases and machinery are built for old wars—but doesn’t get what this makes them. History. Warfare is in a constant state of co-evolution (sword and shield, fortress and missile) and you cannot rest on your laurels. History is full of examples of hubris put down.
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INDRAJIT—The colonizers of the Raj played political Jenga, corrupting local elites with imported goods, education for their children, and filthy lucre from the enslavement of their own people. Splinter colonization is still the policy of the day, divide and conquer the masses using local elites. It goes back to the great grand pappy of White Empire.
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INDRAJIT—It’s strange, what pains. I can write about all the death and destruction in the world and feel one level of bad, but what really hurt was losing something so small and personal, which wasn’t really lost at all. I write about the wide world but my world is actually very small. I rarely leave my house, let alone my spot on the couch. The only thing I’d move my laptop for was that cat, and I missed him terribly when he was gone. I was walking around like my cat had died (which he could’ve) and was unable to enjoy anything. It’s only now that he’s come back that I feel anything close to normal.
