He Knows His Stockdale
From commenter Sean at this post:
Everybody I see and hear talking about the confusion and direction things are taking, and the various factions going at each other, reminded me of something.
I once led an infantry platoon. Not combat, but dress rehearsal for it in Germany, for nearly five yrs.
32 men and 1 officer.
There were 33 different takes on everthing from chow, to wiping your ass, to how to best engage armour, to women, to doctor appts, to maintenance, to every and each damn thing we were involved with, or might be. Sometimes it sounded like a deranged debating club. Add to that, each mans' personal, physical, and spiritual problems, and you've got a nuthouse waiting to explode.
I cannot adequately explain what a challenge this is to a platoon sgt. Anyone who has been one will tell you it is like herding hydrophobic cats in the dark with a 12volt cattle prod that shocks you, every other time you use it. Upbringing, drugs, crime, habits, values, no values, hate, love, and everything else gets thrown into the pot.
I had two jobs. Prepare these men for combat, and support/lead them in combat. All other considerations, including my own, have no value.
Mission, and Men. That's it.
That's what a leader does. Leads. Self is gone, and what's left is the job.
Find and kill the enemy, destroy his resources, negate his ability to make war.
Being a good leader lost me my wife and children, what meant the most to me in life.
So I want all the infighters and syncophants, and keyboard kommandos to understand. If you go for this, expect to lose everything and everybody that matters to you in this world including your life. It will be confusing, intolerable, hard, hungry, diseased, despised, thankless, and unprincipled.
Should you stagger out to the other side, victorious, or otherwise, you will not be who you were, in any way. Your remaining days will be painful, difficult, and short.
If you want it bad enough. That will be your reward.
You will be free.
You will also have freed a lot of people who did not lift a finger to help, and who are ungrateful.
I don't suppose many remember Rogers of Rogers Rangers, dying alone, sick, and in abject poverty, not a long time after the cheering stopped. Yet we do remember him as great and mighty man. I wonder often, how he felt about it, hungry, desititute, and unloved.
Let all understand.
You're not going to get rich, famous, or laid by the Prom Queen, when you go up against IT. Your ass will be on the chopping block, and if all you lose is a little pride and a leg,or arm, health, you're lucky. Make up your minds, and get with the program, and forget all this scrapping.
The darkness comes, like a roaring lion, seeking all whom he may devour.
I put it all on the line before, and I'll do it again. I believe in principle, and in practice, get out of my way.
I ain't got time for any of this small change shit.
Death will come anyway.