World of Warcraft Review no spoilers

Because I've got a ton of free time on my hands at the moment, I decided to start playing World of Warcraft again. I played it during my military service, with quite a few of my co-workers, and it was a way for many of us to play in war while dealing with the reality of what we were doing in our type of warfare. It was an escape for most.

With the quarantine up and ready, I decided to play through the storylines on both sides of the battle through the last 3 expansions. Warlords of Draenor, Legion, and the Battle for Azeroth. I missed out on Cataclysm and Mists of Pandaria due to my previous account being hacked at the end of my active duty service and me sacrificing it because it gave me an excuse to just focus on my training for SERE. By the time I left active duty, I was sick of most everything electronic, seeing the web of information everywhere I walked.

But now I'm back, and I decided to walk the roads my old self had once walked. I grew up playing the original WarCraft, along with my favorite WarCraft 2: beyond the dark portal. With the failed release of WarCraft 3, completely below any decent standard of promise/delivery, I got to thinking of "what would I have done had I been the one making the decisions?" Since getting my desktop back after having it in storage since 2011, I built it in 2010 to play Skyrim at max setttings, I put Unity's free program on it to give it a go and see what it is that I would create, given the chance. The WarCraft story is the first to be broken apart and digested.  Since WarCraft is a mishmash of so many other science fiction/fantasy/mythologies, I'll review it as a player and a mythology and history scholar.

While I will get into what World of WarCraft has done wrong, mainly not giving every expansion it's own set of parameters and boundaries that interact with another as a part of evolution instead of taking away something that we already have and giving it to us in a different skin. Though I have been impressed with the streamlining and qualities of life, there is so much content to be explored and chances for growth that it would be a failure of Blizzard as a company to not utilize all the knowledge at its disposal to create a playable "museum of blizzard" kind of Game for the WarCraft series.

To reference the failure of the WarCraft 3 Remake, it was barely an upgrade in character models. One of the laziest money grabs that I had ever seen by a once respected company. I say that not to belittle them but to recognize that a good product is the sign of a good company. A poor product is the sign of a greedy and lazy company. We're only here for a small amount of time and there is no reason for us to not put our effort into all that we create on this earth. I had really hoped for an updated map creator, much like the game for ps4 Dreams. The way that the stories went in my head is so different than the ones that played out it would be like creating my own "What IF?" When I had made that decision I got arrested and spent 31 days in the county jail. Much of these ideas are what I was thinking about pre-arrest, and what I've been dwelling on since the quarantine began.

Warlords of Draenor:

Okay, I played through Warlords as a Worgen Guardian Druid. I loved the idea of the classes that can play all roles, and since I had played a Blood Elf Paladin in the Burning Crusade and Wrath of the Lich King, I decided to play one from either goblin or worgen as I missed their introduction and I really don't like the pandaren, so it turned me off to Monk. Since neither goblins or worgen can be monks I chose the druid.

There are two things that I learned from this, that I didn't play any of the Alliance quests in either Burning Crusade nor in Wrath, and the ability to shape change while falling is amazing. In my playtime I got to finally make a character that I got to look however I wanted in this world. I didn't level up this character from level 1, as I hated low leveling in Classic-Wrath, and I wanted to get straight into the story. I did also remake a Blood Elf Paladin but I only got him to 60 before I decided that I didn't want to level up anymore and I wasn't really into remaking a toon that I lost. Getting to Draenor was like going through the portal again in the WarCraft 2 expansion, Beyond the Dark Portal. Not seeing it in it's science-fantasy broken world, but seeing it fresh and green and full of primitive life. I felt it was a hearken to Conan and the savage fantasy worlds. For the most part I enjoyed it. The Garrison felt only halfway done. I felt that they could have expanded the alt system by allowing you to share the Garrison on each realm, as they had made the upkeep super tedious for each character. They could have also done missions as standard WarCraft RTS story missions where you send a team into a map for certain accomplishments. The current way is just sending your recruits on a percent chance auto complete missions.

I would keep that option, but the reward is only the standard. Taking personal control of the missions would allow one to find extras as well as making those recruited characters more than simple paper dolls.  It would also break the monotony of the game type, adding more depth rather than taking away anything. Sea missions would have been amazingly fun!

I do very much dislike the Talent system. The 3 pillars are not organized in any way shape or form. There is no, attack, defense, or support options, they're just things that were previously given in the past and then placed into a strange array of choices. Even the weapons that they added in Legion, only gave us back things that we already had in the guise of "weapon progression" It was not fun to grind out and it was not a fun part of the game. it could have been done automatically for how well it was implemented.

I did enjoy the story in both Warlords and Legion, though I only played it on my Druid, and when I unlocked the Void Elf race, I made a hunter because I played a Survival Hunter in Classic and I had always wanted a melee hunter character. I didn't play my Druid much anymore in Battle. I got halfway through the story before I gave up and went through it on my Blood Elf Paladin, then to get the other side of the story I completed the Battle story I with my Void Elf Hunter. I leveled up through player versus player (PvP), and did the Mists of Pandaria story on my hunter, which, after completing I'm really sorry that I missed that Expansion. It is very beautiful.

I did not enjoy the Battle story. It seemed too rushed and holds very little depth. I have enjoyed the PvP. While I was unlocking the Vulpera, a small fox like race, I was thinking of creating a monk for the first time. While I was grinding out the reputation I made an Undead monk and decided to go through the Forsaken storyline for the first time. I realized how much I missed out. In WarCraft 3, they were humans that had been unwillingly raised into the state of undeath. Not really my favorite story, but they had broken free to decide their own fate. I had never played one and they finally got the golden 3 of a class. I went for it and I really regret not making one before. It reminded me of why I like this game. I had preconceived notions of all the other classes. Not knowing what to expect with this class made me appreciate the mechanics a lot more, I believe.

So for the rest of the game I decided to go back and complete everything I missed on my monk, The Draenor and Legion horde story, first. After putting time into those with my Druid, doing it again on my monk was not something that i wanted to do since it was the same thing. In Legion, I got my druid the "hidden weapon" skins, I have no interest in doing that with my monk, as I don' t like the skins for the WindWalker specialization. I have no interest in dungeons or anything else in Battle, except for the PvP, and that is extremely fun. I do not like the gear level making the difference between a win and a loss, and it is easier to gain gear levels in the Player versus Environment side of the game.

 Though I might be under geared, I think I got the hang of it. The chat environment is pretty bad in World of Warcraft, toxic and demeaning, though I do my best to be encouraging during a match. Most people don't dedicate time to this stuff and have quite a lot of other things to do. I've had a history with the game so I could dive right in and just putz around without a care to complete anything or race to have something done. I don't have an attachment to anything, just a chance to explore and check out the evolution of the game.

I've gone through some of the old stories in some zones to make connections with some of the stuff going on in Battle/Legion/Warlords, and I'm not sure I would have continued in the direction that they went. Warlords was huge and streamlined, but Legion and Battle seemed to be rushed. And not in a "you played to fast" rush through, but everything is go go go go go go, emergency, emergency, emergency and you're the only person that can stop it. Here is where I would have made the case for alternate toons affecting the same world as your main character. There is so much to do that one character cannot handle it all, and if we're going to be gaining in power levels to destroy old gods, then we're going to run into the Raymond Feist dilemma of once you've defeated everything the only one left to defeat is Chaos itself.

Not to rag on the RiftWar Saga, I just would like a different direction for the World of WarCraft. Even if we keep the idea that there is one main hero, the ability to do other things and affect the same state of the world with other toons allows for more interaction with the world. I thought that is what world quests were supposed to simulate, but having to redo parts of the game on other characters can be too much for those not dedicated to the game. It would allow me to enjoy more of the story instead of the same over and over again.

My only complaints are the repetative nature of the games leveling mechanics/story and the gear level monstrosity that once you fall behind in the game you can never truly catch up, and in PvP that's an ender for anyone new wanting to enjoy the game and try to get better at it, until, like the highlander, there will only be one. 

The Roman Tick

“The most worthless of mankind are not afraid to condemn in others the same disorders which they allow in themselves; and can readily discover some nice difference in age, character, or station, to justify the partial distinction.”
― Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire

***

ro·man·tic
/rōˈman(t)ik/

2.  of, characterized by, or suggestive of an idealized view of reality


***

I find as I read more and more of history and religion, most notably the Abrahamic religions, I find it incredibly disturbing how every little road that describes the downfall of mankind leads me back to Rome. I've been researching my ancestry and following a path of spirituality that has been no less than incredible. I've encountered the worst of mankind in various forms, have turned away from the constructions that I grew up with, and have made leaps and strides towards the ultimate goal of self realization in one lifetime. I've been gratefully and wonderfully blessed, though that doesn't mean that I've gone through the briars unscathed, it simply means that I've made it through the other side.

When I was younger, I had the childish ideal that everyone had the same opportunities as I did, the same deep need to search for life's great treasures. But as I grew older I slowly, very very slowly, came to realize that most people don't like to dig in the muck of the human soul to discover the treasures that lay within. The common man would rather themselves be comfortable, though I've never seen anyone truly comfortable that I would call common. I would say that I was very lucky that I was placed into the family that I had been, not for the religiocity that governs them, but underneath all of that, the place and time and seed that did engender me and give me birth allowed me to endure the wickedness of men without giving into them.

My mother would always tell me that god would only give us that which he created us to carry, never more. I have to give props to the intelligence behind the universe, because he gets the precise amount every time, right to what we believe our limits to be, then shows us how we can surpass them because we are his children. All of us.

In the idealized world of our society, we have this thing called the American Dream. The childish notion that getting a family, a home, and a white picket fence will satisfy all our inner and outer needs. I used to describe myself as "romantic" when searching for a partner, mostly because of the fantasy of having the perfect partner created for me like Eve was for Adam. It was what I was told growing up, and while that ideal saved me from diving into relationships and making some terrible terrible mistakes with women of questionable purity, when I finally gave up on that notion and tried to build my own El Dorado one brick at a time I never came across a person who was willing to start again, or discard notions of the past to try to build something worthwhile. That is why I think that much of the mindset of our day and age is the Roman Tick, blood sucking and soul sucking that leaves people empty of life and vitality.

The Roman Tick has devastated our society, our world. It is the monster that has no real name or form, as the Romans have stolen every spiritual confluence and declared it to be their own. Their attempt to be the spiritual center of mankind has failed, grotesquely, and their destroying of the link between science and spirituality a thing that deserves the greatest of punishments. 

The Christ says this in his teachings, "Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell." Since I am a believer that the spirit in man discards the body for a new one at the time of each birth (not in the womb as false pro-lifers would proclaim), and I also understand that the tongue is sharper than any sword and can cut the spirit of man in twain, I am going to do my best to destroy the souls of those that have negatively affected this world and let their bodies and minds suffer in this realm until the time of their death. Since that is what most people fear, is death, is it not? Even though it happens to all creatures in this universe, an unequivocal law of nature.

What it seems that some people don't understand is that there are little deaths, deaths of thoughts and beliefs and feelings, that come before the big death. Where I am being attacked today is that some think that I'm trying to spread the big death to people. I don't care about that. No one can escape it and the longer that those that fear the inevitable live the greater that fear becomes. I will kill and exterminate the soul of bigotry, hatred, greed, and all those other nasty little demons, whether I have to use religious language, war language, philosophical or scientific language, I will get my point across and I will challenge all those things that drag a man's soul to the depths of his own hell.

If it leaves somebody an empty shell so be it. The people that spread those lies and deceits have done worse to their fellow man, destroying families, taking away children, ruining reputations, health and wellness. The law of Karma states that so ye reap so ye sow, and the reapers are here. They keep appearing in our mythologies, in our dreams and thoughts. The current Virus pandemic is Pestilence, Nature's reaper. We were unprepared for it, even though we had seen unaccounted for wealth and "prosperity" in our time, those that held that wealth and proclaimed that prosperity did so not for the benefit of man, but for selfish gains. We all are paying the consequences for it.

I'm not going to proclaim myself anything other than what I am. I am not a prophet, I only repeat what past prophets have said, and the prophets are those that study history and nature to warn us of upcoming trials and tribulations. Nothing that I could say would be more accurate than the words that we've already been given. I am a warrior and a scholar, plain and simple. I have picked up the mantle of my Great-Grandfather, the mantle of mentoring and ministering to the spirits of those individuals who seek. I will not proselytize, I will not be the figure head of anything.

I will be that voice crying out in the wilderness alone, and I will fight this Roman Tick, alone. Every man must go into the darkness to see his own light or be forever forsaken by it. The play of light and darkness are ours, our birthright as living and conscious beings in this world. Do not give in to romanticism or the unchallenged beliefs in others. Never have I ever said to never question me. Never have I said that what I say is absolute truth, but the truth of my experiences is plain to see in the light of day.

I will not hide from the hatred of small beings who pretend to be men. To do so would make me an unqualified and inexcusable traitor to myself, and that self is what I have spent so much time to find under all the trials and tribulations in this life. So let me light myself on fire and let the world watch me burn within the flames of self knowledge. I fear no man nor anything man-made, for it will all fall with Time, the great destroyer of all things. It is time the Roman Tick be eliminated and we be free from the plague it has spread in the spirit of man.

Let Rome fall into dust, and those that propagated her iniquity fall with her.

Divine Love

I know I have a few readers, one of them being a rat who thinks himself doing journalism on me though it's become clear that he has an unhealthy obsession, I wish to address everyone, including that small and plagued thing.

I find it incredibly interesting that one person has spent so much time and energy to try to undo me and has not succeeded in any aspect. I've done my best to ignore it, to try and get on with my life, but just like any bully or deranged person who seeks to take down his betters, he needs to be put down like a rabid animal.

Luckily, the threats against my person have ceased and the vast majority of people I come across see through the idiocy. I don't think I need to sit here and defend my actions with vain words, you can all simply compare them side by side with those that I have stood against. Which is why I wrote the piece from jail, Pietas. Claiming that my seeking and following higher ideals as mental illness, or trying to undermine me at every step has only made me better, stronger, and more aware. For that I love my enemies. I wish to express my condolences to them, for karma is a real and true thing, and what you reap you shall sow.

Now, the Rat would say that is a threat and try to use that further in his case against my mental well-being. I'm not threatening anyone. I don't know how many times that I have to say this, but after I did my duty, against everything that I knew within me in order to survive a corrupted and wicked group of people, I swore an oath to the Supreme Lord of the Universe that I would never seek to do violence against another person. Though many might disagree with my hard and straight language, it is better than the language that we see in our modern media and what others do in order to curb public perception of who they are and what they are truly doing. It's business/political to describe one thing as another in order to gain votes or dollars.

If you're really curious, here is an ebook copy of the Bahgavad Gita, a conversation between a warrior and god on what duty is. Just like Krishna uses the language of war to describe spiritual alignment and responsibility, I will use that language as well. The zen masters and Taoists state that there is no enemy outside of yourself, the only enemy lay within. Which makes all the religious critics all the more hilarious because they cannot see that is not just a battle for some distant and mythological messiah, that is our own responsibility to ourselves. No other can heal our soul but ourselves. No other can fight that battle but ourselves.

Which makes the Rat's religious degree from Florida even more embarrassing. That the rat cannot take responsibility for his own words or actions and has to use hide behind his wife's law degree and her connections to corporations like Monsanto and Raytheon is even more appalling. The scriptures do say that there will be many false prophets and many who will lead men astray. For much of my life I believed it to be true, but something to be experienced in a distant time or history. Never did I think I would be face to face or bear witness to the extreme depravity of mankind, so concentrated in one individual. I have taken responsibility for my own actions and words, for they are mine, even if they are made in error. I know what I have done and I what I have done is seek to balance the scales and fix whatever wrongs that I have done.

I read the Rat's ongoing blog about me, which is the main piece of the Montana state prosecutions beef with me. I've not been wrong in what I've tried to tell people about the Oligarchs, which in fact during this extreme pandemic, the Missoula City Council still decided to give 17 million dollars in tax money away to Wisconsonite Millionaire Nick Chicota while the public is focused on the matter of surviving and taking care of themselves. And now the Mayor also has sole financial say. Fascism rears its ugly head when desperate times take place.

Didn't I compare the use of broken tools used in social government situations to giving a broken tool to a warrior in battle? Didn't I say that it is worse because people don't die right away, they worse than die, they suffer; people lose their homes, their ability to feed themselves, they get desperate and turn to crime... So what did the council do? They did exactly that. Putting the chains of slavery onto their citizens instead of using that money that is the citizens to reinforce the health and welfare of the community. When the Dollar collapses and they cannot pay for their high rise condos and whatever toys they feel they want, they'll have nothing. The citizens of Missoula, of Montana even, are now seeing the truth of things. And since Karma is the refuge of the wise, we all need to just hold them accountable for their actions and let nature take it's course with them.

That is why I wish no death upon them. People have the ability to learn, and unfortunately, terrible situations and life experiences are the only way that those wicked spirits that inhabit those meat suits will be able to learn anything. I feel sorry for people like the Rat and those that have never really been challenged in this life. They don't know what they're capable of, no one does. They just take from others and live off the spoils. They've never actually earned a position in life so they have to steal and undermine those that have to make themselves feel better.

Small and pitiful people. I struggle every day to find compassion for them. How can we have compassion for those that willfully and purposefully harm others? The poet Rumi says this, "Just as the clay needs to be hardened in fire, so does love need to be perfected in pain." 

My Great-Grandfather would remind me of what the Christ says, "You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

I will further say that I have realized that we don't love our enemies because we want them to be like us. They already are if they are fellow creations of this Universe. We love them because they reveal the spirit within us, they show us what is noble and worthy to fight against. And since this is not a physical battle, this is a battle against the principalities and powers which govern this world, the only true weapon is the sword of the spirit which cuts sharper and deeper than any sword. It is the Sword of Truth, and if I dare say so, the armor of God has protected me during every encounter that I've ever had, regardless of how much damage I've sustained. And I've sustained a heroic amount. But like one of my Childhood heroes, Sun Wukong the Handsome Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, every bit of damage only makes me stronger and wiser.

To the rat and all my detractors, I thank you. I wish you everything in this life that you deserve and that you reap the fruits of your sowing in this life so that you have a clean soul for your next. Until you do, may you live forever.

Peace and Love,

Brandon W. Bryant
The Dragon of Hell's Gate

Pietas - A Jail Note

The Modern Definition of Piety:

pi·e·ty

/ˈpīədē/

Learn to pronounce

noun

noun: piety

1. the quality of being religious or reverent.

   "acts of piety and charity"
2. a belief or point of view that is accepted with unthinking conventional reverence.

   plural noun: pieties

   "the accepted pieties of our time"

early 16th century (in the sense ‘devotion to religious observances’): from Old French piete, from Latin pietas ‘dutifulness’, from pius.


***
In the days of Ancient Rome, those that took up the mantle of “knight” were expected to hold in their hearts and act with “pietas.” In modern day society it is a term more associated with the common religion as piety, and deemed more mystical than true. Some would have it discussed in a philosophical sense, though most today would rather forget it exists entirely in the pursuit of their own desires.

For me, it comes as naturally as breathing, though at times I feel as if drowning might be easier. My Great-Grandfather, my Grandpa, and my mother instilled in me the courage and fortitude to never discard it when engaging the Abyss of the human soul. I grew up with tales of Arthur Pendragon and his Companions of the Round Table, how they represented “Pietas” and all the other grand qualities of heroes, it was my Grandpa Lanny who lived it.

To me, he was and still is, as kingly as Arthur ever was, and his Round Table was the circle of the Wrestling mat. Lanny was the coach of the Knights of the Hell’s Gate, his companions, his wrestlers, and through his dedication, discipline, compassion, and love he led them to their Legendary State Championship, paving the way and planting the seeds of victory everywhere he went. He has reared many great men, and though I never was a State Champion, I would count myself among those that strive to match his pietas in all that I have done.

He taught me that life was exactly like the struggle on the mat. The philosophies of action and wisdom mix together and become inseparable, where pride can lead one to fall from great heights but through discipline one can rise again without fault or blame to overcome any challenge. For much of my own life I could not put it into words well enough to explain to those outside the circle. The Arena is and always be the place I feel most alive, and now, having traveled along the path to self-discovery, through greater despair and heartaches I have ever read or heard told, the seeds in my heart have matured enough to understand and bear the fruit of wisdom. I write this from jail, a political prisoner in my own community, to remind myself and others what the fight and struggle are really about.

Some might say this is a fight for our lives, but it isn’t. It is a fight for life itself. On the mat the only death is the end of the match, heralded by the whistle of the referee. In the world it is for order and justice and all the ordinary and simple things, the little things we have been deprived of for too long. The things that any decent and healthy society should secure, that the truth of America never has. The guarantee of food, a safe place to rest, roads that any person may travel with security from thriving town to city and to country, into the wilderness and back again. Homes of wealthy folk where some grace of living may grow and mature, free from greed and desire, giving scope to any who wish to hone their craft and those who simply seek to learn. Where anyone can read a book on any philosophy, faith, creed, or science and have a healthy discussion of the thoughts and emotions they provoke. Where lovers can grow old together, watching their children and their children’s children thrive to learn the gentler arts of living. A place where Truth, Justice, and understanding replace violence, intrigue and petty tribal jealousy. That’s my dream for Montana. That is what we are fighting for.

Martin Luther King Jr. spoke of a similar dream while he yet lived. I get to dreaming of a world where men walk simply without deceit or subterfuge. A kindlier world than the one we know right now, where the strong defend the weak instead of the greedy and to have some manners is not thought to be beneath a warrior’s dignity.

Truth, Justice, Mercy - one cannot impose these things - they must grow out of a man’s striving for himself. We wonder why evil and wickedness exists in the world. Those that follow the Church of the Dying God say that the world is evil because of one Great Sin. I grew up in that religion but can no longer prescribe to it’s remedies. Though we could take the finest sieve and sift the entire universe through it, no molecule of love could ever be found. For no man who has not known despair knows himself, and no man who does not know himself can find the truth; The rhythm of the universe and the Love that sustains it. Whether it is on the mat or the battlefield or in everyday life we must be ready to enter Hell’s Gate and confront all that which lay on the other side. As Dante says in his Divine Comedy’s Inferno, “All hope abandons, ye who enter here.” This is how courage is born.

There is no courage without fear. The Hero of Time taught me that. The bravest is often the most frightened, and if we are afraid of something that means we MUST confront it directly. In that respect, solitude is often fear’s companion. To be afraid is to be alone, but it is only then a person attains that self-discovery. Pain defines and exacts the price of wisdom, and the price is worth paying because it must be paid. The Sufi poet, Rumi says this, “just as clay needs to go through intense heat to become strong, Love can only be perfected in pain.” Through courage one earns honor. In all of life, in my heart, mind, body, and soul, courage is the principle thing.

Shakespeare says that “all the world's a stage.” On earth, every man plays a part and that part is appointed to him by the powers that be before he is even born. In one incarnation a slave, in another a king, in yet others a common soldier, a priest, a merchant, even a politician. In each part, as he plays it out in life for ill or well, he learns something he needs to know until all good and evil have been experienced and the soul can distinguish for itself between the two and so grows towards the perfection that is man’s final goal. A king is not greater than a slave, for both are men. In fact, a king’s role is more difficult, for what a great man does other’s will follow. It is of equal importance that they should act their part so that the play mirrors Truth.

This spirit needs to be awoken, set to a standard, create a pattern that even the dullest can comprehend and strive to achieve. Truth is always simple enough so that a child can understand it. A promise is a promise. Once given it must be kept, lived by, or be forfeit of honor and to the noble dishonor is worse than death.

The Old Faith of the Druids holds that once a vow is made it cannot be unmade without damage to the soul. In this Greater Cosmos we are the Individual Cosmos and in the triad sayings of the Bards, Oviates, and Druids there are three things that no man can alter; The stars in their course, the flowing of the tides, and the pattern that unrolls from the given word.

By the things taught to me, that I’ve learned through my own experience I live in service, given without grudging and without hope of rewards, through the quality of my heart and the respect earned by it. We must honor our own gods and give respect to other men’s. We must seek truth and speak it always, even to our own harm and hurt. We must be worthy of trust and trust one another. I would have us use our strength to protect those that cannot protect themselves; the old, the weak, the infirm, the widows, and the fatherless. Even those that we hate so long as it treads the path of right action. We will have the manners of Kings, equal to any in any land, and so above those things that leaden a man’s spirit: anger, desire, and greed.

To be anything less would shame my family legacy.

***

Some that I have spoken to about these things tell me that the depth is intimidating and others have viewed them as only fantasy. One going so far to tell me, “it sounds like you’re just trying to convince yourself.” In my youth, these left me to despair and loneliness, unable to share my soul with another. They have stayed where they are, rooted in place and unable to take the leap in faith that lets one start the journey of a thousand miles with that single step. Faith is not trusting the unknowable or the unseen, faith is understanding the machine of the macroverse and knowing the intelligence behind it is in complete and total control. Though it is not responsible for any of man’s actions.

Where the path of right action will always be Grandpa Lanny’s, the path of wisdom was the way of my Great-Grandfather William Caswell Bryant tread. In my heart of hearts he will always be the greatest man I have ever known, and if I can only be a reflection of his teachings of gentleness and mercy then I know I could light up the whole of creation for a single instance of this one life. He is and always will be my Buddha, my Krishna, my Merlin, and my Captain Jean Luc Picard. It is my hope that right here I can plant the seeds he gave me within others, so that even if his name is forgotten, then the Love he carried will not be.

He was a born enlightened sage, ministering to creation as he walked home from school and church. He once told me that he was pretty sure many of the cows that were pastured in Texas reached the abode of the Supreme Lord, having told them about his Christ the moment he became aware of the Lord’s love himself. “The Holy Cows of Texas!” He would say with a laugh. Brahma’s sign of Grace, I would say today.

At fourteen, he started to lead his Church choir, and through his wanderings west to California and north to Montana, he started 89 churches in his Lord’s name, never taking more than was necessary to live simply. One for every year of his wonderful life. His goal had been one hundred, and I’m sure that if we counted those congregations that grew out of his own works, we’d find maybe ten times that number. He never claimed the works of others as his own, so I’ll honor that.

I was born in Missoula, Montana in Community Hospital. After a series of tragedies my mother experienced, she moved to California to be with my Great-Grandparents for help in raising me while she sought a way to better our lives. My earliest memory is of us sitting on a picnic table in his backyard, a hill, and a toy truck with me on his knee watching the California Sunset. We were moving, I believe, for my toy was a purple U-Haul. His eyes were welling with tears as he told me, “Proof of the Lord’s Love lay with all things beautiful.” He was a poet, and it is these moments that I remember him the most, for it was often that his spirit was moved while I was with him and his wisdom shone brighter than if a thousand suns rose in the sky at dawn.

My Lord of Lord’s, how I miss him.

When we moved back to Montana, my mother decided that she was going to take up the familial legacy of teaching. It is here, truly, that my own initiation began and the paths of my grandfathers converged into me, to be shaped and molded by my mother, beaten into me by my uncle, and tested against the Darkness of the World. Three great peoples, and their many branches, producing me, the fruit of their legacy.

***

I remember much of those early years thanks to my mother teaching me simply how to learn. She wired my grey-matter sponge to love it, seek it, devour it, understand and regurgitate it in my own words and expressions. Coupled with the wisdom, emotion, and grace of my Great-Grandfather, the discipline and determination of my Grandpa, I couldn’t have asked for a better childhood. The one glaring gap, like a missing tooth, was a solid father-figure. Because of that I also grew wilder than most. Not rebellious, but wild, like a bear, wandering on my own merit in nature’s grace. While I did wonder about my own father on earth, I was told that, “My Father, who art in Heaven” loved me more than I could ever know and that I was here because he willed it. In this aspect, I was completely self-created, for in my own heart and imagination I clung to him in my loneliness and it is that same heart that the ideals I live by were shaped.

What is more powerful than a young boy’s need to prove himself worthy of a Father crafted in his own heart and mind?

***

My mother, born in 1961 in Garden Grove, California to Lanny and Ann Bryant, given the unique combination of their names: LanAnn. She was the eldest of five, born to young boomer parents, and the strongest woman I’ve ever met. Her heart is large enough to hold the weights of oceans and her mind bright enough to see the turnings of the stars. Though she has been given a few rough turns down unknown roads, her faith has been her guide and her wisdom to me in my own difficulties has always been simply, “just do the right thing.” She is a Priestess of Solitude, courageous beyond measure, and a balm of comfort in my own pain. Whatever I could say would never do her justice. She has the dignity of Mother Mary, herself, and if there is another woman as selfless as her I have not yet encountered that being. She deserves every blessing that her Lord could bestow, and she would only ask for love. The tragedies she has endured has only made her more flexible and stronger than Damascus steel, and sharper than any sword, and the only thing she would cut through are the lies and illusions of the world. Her two daughters are no less magnificent. If I, myself, are the lesser of her three children, it is only because of my wild nature. My sisters exhibit all the qualities nature gave my moth, in their own unique way more refined, like one refines the scent of a flower in a perfume or the way one can hone a knife to cut clean with a sharp edge. Evolution at play, I would say, and empowerment at work.

***

If I could write their stories, I would, but I can only write of their influence on my own. I start this piece with my family because you should know where I come from; a stone's throw from Eden. Where I have gone has taken me beyond Hell’s Gate, into the heart of the Abyss, my soul raked across the coals of oblivion until only a fragment of a fragment remained. The loss of my perceived self so great that I did everything I could to escape existence as a fox caught in a hunter’s trap gnaws its own foot off, and yet by grace I'm still here, if not whole, ready to grow and live again. This isn’t an instructions manual or even a biography. It is an intimate examination of my own soul so that I can see into me and maybe recover that hope that abandons us in our own hellscape.

My path has been high, indeed, and as my favorite author says, “Upon the heights the paths are paved with Daggers.”

Iaijutsu

https://www.wikiwand.com/en/Iaijutsu

The House Major of Candyland: The plagued Rat Who Believed itself to be a Rhino

I'll be quick and dirty with this one because Rynearson is a Government slut who likes to take that fat military idustrial cock then watch as his wife is fucked by better men. He's the Rat that pretends to be a Rhino. The House Major of Candyland.

Rick Rynearson continues to paint targets on my back. He's been stalking me and harassing me ever since I began blowing the whistle on America’s disastrous drone program. He’s stalked me online and done everything he can to ruin my reputation, no matter what I’m doing, always trying to distract the American people away from my statements; about the disastrous wars we shouldn’t be engaged with anymore; wars that cause horror many of us cannot un-see, and cannot condone.

Even now in my home town, Rick Rynearson is fear-mongering individuals in my community, alleging that I’m threatening physical violence upon them. Ludicrous.

So who is this Rick Rynearson, and why does he save such a hard-on for me?

He dispatched several USMC veterans, Via a website called "This Aint Hell" all of whom had been propagandized to his views to such a degree that they sought my harm; a fellow brother-in-arms. The only reason they relented was, they said, “out of respect for my grandfather.”

So here we have a situation where local politics is reaching such a boiling point, with our citizens committing suicide all around us, with all of our local businesses closing down, with one of the highest income disparities in the country, where emotions are very high, and we’re once again distracting attention AWAY from the pressing issues of extreme suffering in our community.

And because emotions are high, certain elements of identity politics are rearing their ugly head again. And right now that’s manifesting with certain elected officials in my town feeling threatened because this online bully continues to blow my statements completely out of proportion and take them completely out of context. He’s attempting to again rob me of the quality of my words, but this time it involves my very own community, which I cherish more than my own life. That’s why I swore an oath to the Constitution to defend my community from all threats, both foreign and domestic.

I’m being smeared as threatening a public official with whom I disagree Politically. I was recently featured on our local media station (KECI, Missoula) for voicing my opposition to the misuse and abuse of Montana’s Tax Increment Financing statute, which is causing measurable harm to many people and nobody wants to talk about it. And now that people like ME are talking about it, they’re trying to silence the issue once again.

I’ve been notified of a potential restraining order that would bar me from attending City Council meetings in my town – a town I was born in, where many activists have been voicing vociferous opposition to Neo-liberal policies that disadvantage Montana taxpayers to extreme and absurd degrees.

This translates into a truth-teller being potentially robbed of his 1st Amendment rights for honestly voicing the frustration and despair felt by people all around me the community over; people our elected officials CLAIM to represent. Things are really dark in Missoula and nobody is talking about it. And okay, I admit it. I've had a mental breakdown. I blew the whistle and it seemed like nothing happened; I was ousted from my church; I was excommunicated from  my family; I lost my job; I lost my son; I lost my health. Even my housing. Of COURSE I've lost my mind!

But my heart is in the right place.

I sincerely hope the members of my community do not seriously believe I mean them physical harm. Let me spell it out: I mean no physical violence to anyone; an oath I swore after I left that infernal drone program. I’m a disabled veteran for God’s sake. I’m tired of unnecessary fighting with people just as under-served by the status quo as I am. That’s why I became a whistle-blower. Hello?

Furthermore, I sincerely hope the members of my community take note of this Rick Rynearson character - who started a GoFundMe to pay for his legal fees that accrue from all of the slander suits he dodges on a constant basis due to his highly inflammatory nature, defaming the character of people who tell the truth about war. He's guilty of what he accuses me of; he has a history of harassing public officials in his town. This is the pot calling the kettle black.

For some reason, Rick Rynearson can't seem to find anything better to do with his days but demonize me as the reason for all the problems in our world. It’s a really sad state of affairs, and I trust the highly-literate Missoulians all around me can see right through this blatant tactic to again disarm the will of the popular majority. Missoula taxpayers are losing out big time. Our 500 homeless school children are losing out big time. And our suicide statistics are not getting better.

Let’s focus on the issues, please. Reducing this to personality seems pretty infantile at this point.

Please quit diverting the issues into ad hominem attacks on my personality, and competing in the victim-Olympics of the little-boy-who-cried wolf.

--
The above statements represent those made by Brandon W. Bryant.
Best regards.
--

Dear JSOC

Dear JSOC,

I want to thank you for what you have taught me and for allowing me to bring to light the experiences I had in the dark of a trailer watching the intricate play of War in front of my eyes. Through your mission I was able to fulfill a vow that I had never told anyone about, that after my stint in the 15th Recon Squadron (RS), I would never shoot anyone ever again. But here is what I have learned and what I want to share with you about a warrior's role in the greater world, and what it will mean for your own survival. I'm sure you've been briefed upon who I am, and you probably know more about me that I do. So I hope you take this very seriously.

Sometimes I feel lucky for having gone your direction. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have had the chance to dedicate myself to the concept of duty before self, then seriously explore what the duty was to myself to mend my own soul. I spent a long time contemplating much of who I am today under the wings of the Dragon. One particular man who was part of OP Anaconda gave me his side of the story and a particular piece of advice that I've held close to my heart ever since. He said, "It doesn't matter what awards or decorations that you get, always do what you know is right because you're a master of your craft, not because somebody told you to do it." Maybe because you know me you know how many times I've violated it against myself and that I've not turned that violence against anyone other than myself. After the incident with the child I hated myself more than I hated anything else in existence.

I tried to make shit right with everyone but it kept backfiring. I believe I was cursed for what I had done. Forever cursed. You should understand the desperation that I've experienced; No one would grieve with me and the incident was forgotten as if nothing happened. I couldn't talk about it on the phone, though you probably have records of those conversations, since everyone one of us was monitored.  I feel like most of them were ignorant shills, living office drama that played out while death danced upon infrared screens.

You inherited a mess for sure. But now it is time to reassess what it is that is happening right now.

I'm sure some of your men have had near death experiences and that you've probably got a division that works more shit beyond what I could comprehend; there is a reason why there is extensive philosophical and spiritual knowledge to being true warriors. If nothing else, you've explored why there are so many veteran suicides many due to the invisible wounds that have become the ghosts of the veteran community.

What I hope is that you I don't continue the illusion of war simply because the money is good. The United States Joint Special Operations Command should not be a mercenary group for the highest bidder. I feel like a guy who was simply given the patch to fill an empty slot shouldn't have to be the one to point this out. Maybe I'm like the kid from the Emperor's New Clothes. I don't know when to shut my mouth.

But seriously, how is it that this has gotten out of hand? How is it that you have allowed the most incompetent of incompetent group of politicians to disgrace your honor by dragging it through unjust and evil wars? How is it that you take the noblest of all beasts and have him do the dirtiest and dishonorable job under the banner of the most supreme of nature's creations?

How is it that your supposed to protect the Republic while causing mayhem across the globe at the behest of the Central Intelligence Agency? When we create our own enemies to fight, there is no end to it. There needs to be an end to it. And maybe it's because I fucking hate the 17th RS and the people I knew within it. I also feel like my Legacy is attached to yours, and if I am to lift myself up I must lift up my whole history. I must share the lessons that I have learned so that you do not send more young men and women over the edge without the ability to come back from it. And I must let go of my hatred of my experiences to move forward. The only way I can think of is to learn from it. Not looking at the negative or positive, separating good or evil, but as a whole chapter with character resolution.

Behind the veil which hides the unseen, man will confront the final destiny of his soul. The ancients say that those of us that have participated in the destruction of life deserve no reward in an afterlife. I hate sounding like a broken record or a spiritual lunatic, but the things that I have seen and experienced have been very real. How I have survived is a miracle in itself, and if we are to stop the madness that the United States has gotten itself into it must start with the tip of the spear. It must withdraw and refuse to be used for unrighteous warfare. Heroes and legends come from men and women who turn against the darkness, not from those who were puppets used for illicit gains. Those are spoken about by the common folk in horror and disgust.

You and those under your command must change the way that you operate or face oblivion when finally crossing the veil. And you will also continue to lose men and women to themselves every time they go home and have to live with what they've done. It is a great honor to fight against a deserving enemy, it is a great tragedy that our warriors despair enough to murder themselves because of their mistreatment.

My great grandfather ministered to a great many people, but I am not sure he ever did for the warrior class. I feel like I keep turning back to his teachings over and over again. They were rarely about Christ, when he talked to me at least. They were about love, and not just any love but the Great Love that the Creator has for all of his creations. After my guided shamanic experiences, I understand the truth of it. I've felt it, overflowed with it. After the burning of my self hate it was a quenching draught of peace. It has only been my attachment to people, events, and things that I have sense realized disturb it. The pain never went away, however. I'm not sure it ever will.

I'm unsure if I could ever properly describe soul pain. We all experience it in a manner.  Mine is from murder. It's really the only thing that I feel I've done that is unforgivable. It wounded my spirit severely. To the point where the injury I sustained I believed it was Karma punishment for what I had done, not realizing that it was done on purpose to prevent me from speaking out about my experiences. All I could think of these last 7 years has been the pain and how to end it. The desperation drove me over the edge of sanity and through multiple experiences of soul death. I think it was my grandfather's teachings on that soul that has made me even aware of what I understand I've experienced.

There is so much more to uncover, and I couldn't even imagine what the men who have been on the ground have to come back from. But I think I have the knowledge to bring them back. And it is all thanks to you. I got to bear witness. If you listen, maybe you won't be part of the collapse of the USA but of the rebuilding of her foundation as a true beacon of light for mankind. It starts with those with blood on their hands. The warrior spirit must be purified, it starts with us.

Respectfully,

Staff Sergeant Brandon W. Bryant
200th Dragon of the 3rd Special Operations Squadron