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September 3, 2330, email from Loco de Wacko

Colonel Walter E. Kurtz – a name to plug into from the book.  Is he a hero of mine?  Did I relish the peace I saw there upriver?  How many fouls does it take to make one out? 
SUMMARY:  I've looked into the heart of darkness, where the blood-red journey ends.  When you've faced the heart of darkness, even your soul begins to bend.  For a week I have been waiting, still I am only in Saigon.  The walls move in a little closer.  I feel the jungle coming on.  Every minute I grow weaker, while in the jungle they grow strong.  What I wanted was a mission, and for my sins they gave me one.  They brought it up just like room service, cause everyone gets what they want.  And when that mission was all over, I'd never want another one.

“I know, captain, that you've done this work before.  We've got a problem.  You can help us, I am sure.  The colonel's gone rogue and his methods are unsound.  You'll take a PBR upriver, track him down.  There's a conflict in every human heart, and the temptation is to take it all too far.  In this war things get so confused, but there are some things that cannot be excused.  He's acting like a god, an insane lunatic.  Your mission :  exterminate with extreme prejudice.  The route is dangerous and your progress may be slow.  Here's the file and it's all you need to know.”

Here I am, the knife in my hand, and now I understand why the genius must die.  Now I stand alone with his blood upon my hands.  Where sat the warrior, the poet, now lie the fragments of a man.  I've looked into the heart of darkness, where the blood-red journey ends.  When you've faced the heart of darkness, even your soul begins to bend.

This is the song "Heart of Darkness" by IRON MAIDEN

Loco de Wacko

September, 3, 2345, email to Loco de Wacko

Loco de Wacko, you are a warrior/poet yourself, and so, to my thinking was Jesus.  How many years do you think the Justice Department would lay on him if he came into the temple of the Pentagon and started swiping at ‘em with a whip, same as he did to the hypocrites in Jerusalem.  “I bring not peace, but a sword.”  Intellectual turmoil, ruthless self-examination.  You can only inflict that which you are prepared to endure.  This is the essence of it all, isn’t it?

What’s a poet but a wounded wolf, Loco?  Do you want to hear my howl?  There was a man named Allen Ginsberg, and he wrote a poem by that name, a fine work, but not quite like mine.  We’ll call this Captain May’s Howl…

 

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