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There is a Bible quote that says, “God does not have favorites.” It’s not true for mortals. Some mortals even lack a moral compass, something that guides them to do right even when everything around them tries to convince them to do otherwise. A leader has a moral core, a...

Row, row, row the boat. It’s such a Motherfucker, that it requires no rowing, thank the gods. Or Poseidon. Does he control all waters, including rivers? Or does he pass down the smaller waterways to minions? Gently down the stream. So many streams, so many dreams, I wish I could...

I wentered through Q school, and realized quickly there is a lot of apocrypha attached to it. For example, Green Berets bear the nickname, “Snake Eaters” because we supposedly catch and kill and eat anything, including snakes. I’ve eaten snake, and you know what it tastes like, I’m sure. Well,...

She came into AES with a friend, yet it was I who required medical assistance. I became short of breath, diaphoretic; presenting tachycardia and xerostomia. Nevertheless, I was able to provide treatment to her friend’s self-inflicted laceration. Great field work; it had already been irrigated, sutured and bandaged prior to transport. Looked good when...

Loyalty. It is a commodity, like what’s traded at ARC or S-Mart. Undervalue it, and you’re taken. Overvalue it, and you’re alone. One can navigate the post apocalyptic landscape alone. God knows everyone’s a fucking superhero, a crack marksman, a ninja level hand to hand combat expert. With skittles like...

Apollo Robbins was a master pickpocket, and I remember a TEDTalk from ages ago on his technique. Seems as if the brain can only pay attention to so many things at one time. Overwhelm that, and it won’t feel a hand reaching inside a pocket. Or a blade under the...

Up on the rooftop click click click. Down through the chimney with good Saint Nick. Sang that every fucking year in elementary school, Dom trying to sound like Al B Sure or some shit. I sang today, perched on a rooftop. I wanted to click click click in Arklay heads....

Scenes unfold sometimes like that goddamned ViewMaster toy my brother and I used to fight over when we were young. Still images that burn their way into your psyche, your subconscious. Muzzle flashes, from your weapon and theirs serve as bursts from a camera flashbulb, freezing moments in tableau. The...

Survived cholera. No meds. Pork. Alhamdulillah. Saw a shotgun. Heard a trigger pull. Felt nothing. Tasted life. Smelled good.