Some people look at the depravity and atrocities of war and say, indignantly and piously, this is why we should not have war.

Yeah, right. As if you could wave a wand and say there is no more war.

Wherever there is want, fear, envy, lust, and all those other juicy emotions upon which human nature is so precariously built men will be capable of dark things. Eventually they will do them. Then it’s up to some other poor schlub to wade into the darkness, risk that descent into the vile recesses of the soul, and pull humanity back out of the shadows.

That’d be me. The Schlub.

It’s a trade-off. To win, you have to figure out how they think, which means thinking like them. To deal with them, by which I mean kill the lousy S.O.B.‘s, you have to become them. There’s a North 40 worth of difference between playing hero and doing what needs to be done to villain. Don’t kid yourself. Someone has to do it. Thing is, at some point there’s no coming back from that dark edge.

Any more, I’m not sure where I am.