Andrew Meintzer, Author at Mindgasms

The Cold Darkness of the Night: Chapter 74

November 13, 2019 by Andrew Meintzer

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Image result for man pointing a gun at the screen

Chapter 74

Three assassins from the second Cadillac went in the opposite direction as Matt’s group. They sprinted to the wall of the building where Bill, Brian and Michael were waiting. The leader from the Cadillac slunk to the corner of the wall, signalling his partners to wait. Then the killers waited for the perfect moment to strike.

Ray set up his sniper rifle, putting a man on the building a few hundred yards away in his sights. Everyone else would be ready in a few more minutes.

The killers were like wolves, starved for the sumptuous pleasure of a rewarding meal. It had been far too long since their famine was satiated. Their stomachs grumbled. They longed for the satisfying feeling of sinking their aciculate teeth into their helpless prey’s soft flesh, feeling heartbeats slow down as blood was drained from their veins. The predators would ravenously tear into the powerless animals, biting and clawing at the annoying fur to get to the most essential part, the meat. They would devour the life affirming sustenance with paramount ecstasy, allowing them to continue their ferocious battle with renewed vigour.

The Cold Darkness of the Night: Chapter 73

October 2, 2019 by Andrew Meintzer

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Chapter 73

Two black Cadillac Escalades pulled up behind Ray’s car. Matt stepped onto the curb from the lead S.U.V., closing his door. Grabbing their guns from the trunks, several killers joined him. Everyone split into groups of three.

Matt followed two of the criminals across the road. They entered another tall and crumbling building. Matt stopped inside the doorway, hugging a wall. One of his partners leaned against the opposite wall while the final man ascended the broken stairs. The paint was incessantly peeling, and the metal stairs creaked as his heavy footsteps carried him up in a gradual spiral.

Steeling himself. Matt clenched his AK-47. His pupils dilated as his body became absolutely focused. He wrapped his fingers so tightly around his gun that they turned white. His experience told him that the tense and alert killer across from him was going through a similar process.

Reaching the door for the roof, the third assassin cautiously pushed it open. Scanning the area, he ran to the far side and dropped down to the floor. He set up his sniper rifle, targeting an enemy on another roof a few hundred yards away. Then he waited for his partners to get into position.

Nuclear Weapons are Dark Magic: Part 4: Operation Downfall: The Terrors and Deception of War

September 25, 2019 by Andrew Meintzer

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Image result for nuclear weapons hiroshima and nagasaki

I wrote three blogs a while ago called Nuclear Weapons are Dark Magic. (The links are below) I talk about how evil and destructive nuclear weapons are. However, this doesn’t mean that I think the bombs being dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima were 100% unjustified. I get annoyed by the polarizing views that people often have on this subject.

Nuclear Weapons are Dark Magic: Part 1

Nuclear Weapons are Dark Magic: Part 2: What if Japan Never Surrendered During WWII?

Nuclear Weapons are Dark Magic: Part 3: Operation Downfall, Continued

In parts 2 and 3, I write about Operation Downfall, which was the Allied invasion plan in place for Japan that would have happened if the Japanese had kept fighting after the bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. This would have been the largest scale invasion in history, dwarfing D-Day by far!

In the end of part 3, I explain Operation Ketsugo, which was the Japanese defense plan in place to counter an attack from the Allies that they were expecting. This would have turned out to be Operation Downfall. I also discuss the number of bombs that would have been dropped on Japan. As if those used on Nagasaki and Hiroshima weren’t horrifying enough, the Allies were going to drop somewhere between 7 and 15 more of those motherfuckers!

Part 4: Operation Downfall and the Terrors of War

Due to the thorough Japanese defence of Kyushu, alternate attack targets were considered by the Allies. These included Shikoku and Honshu, the latter of which would have allowed the Americans to more easily get to Tokyo. Honshu was less heavily defended, but the Allies would not have had any land support there. As part of the deception, fake landings in Shikoku were going to be the second part of Operation Pastel, and the first phase of Coronet. (sections of Operation Downfall) The deception plan for Hokkaido probably wouldn’t have worked as well as it would have with Shikoku. That’s because by June in 1945, the Japanese decided that Hokkaido would only be used for defence. By July, they predicted that the Allies would pretend to threaten to attack Hokkaido. So they likely wouldn’t have been tricked by this misdirection, and a fake assault on Shikoku would probably have worked better.

The part of Operation Pastel that involved the Americans pretending to launch attacks on Okinawa from the air would likely have panned out for them. This is because the Japanese expected airborne assaults on airfields. But Pastel was a worse deception plan that Coronet because the latter involved fake targets that were difficult to anticipate. Since Pastel didn’t include these, the Japanese predicted the exact three beaches where the Allies would supposedly land.

Due to the Japanese expecting assaults on Kashima, the fake landings in Sendai and Kashima as part of Operation Coronet would probably have worked. They also would have been tricked into thinking that Sagami was a secondary attack location because this is exactly what they anticipated. The coast of China was a good deception target as well because the Japanese expected being attacked there.

The essential structure of the American deception plans were obvious to the Japanese, so they got really good at predicting them before they were implemented. This made Allied misdirection efforts pretty ineffective in some ways. But overall, the Americans were good at anticipating what the Japanese would label as secondary targets. However, the Japanese were excellent at predicting the basic way that Allied deception plans would be implemented.

General Macarthur didn’t want to change the original Operation Olympic plan because he said that the Japanese defence was exaggerated. Marshall wanted to invade. He thought that Operation Olympic was the best plan for reducing casualties and financial costs. But he understood President Truman’s concerns about less public support for this.

The Americans didn’t know that the Russians tentatively planned to invade the Japanese island called Hokkaido in August of 1945. The naval bases there made it a target. However, a few months before that, the U. S. had agreed to let Russia take over Honshu and Hokkaido. If this had happened, it would have likely encouraged the U. S. to start Downfall before November, which was when the original attack was intended to happen. Operations Olympic and Coronet would have been defended by Japanese Kamikaze attacks in Honshu and Kyushu.

Some histor-ans claim that the Russ-ians had metic-ulous plans for Far East invasions. At least a few of them even point to attack strategies for Nazi Germany. But the one for Hokkaido was probably only poorly formed in Stalin’s imagination. He cancelled that plan when he realized that the Japanese would surrender. It was unlikely that he actually wanted to invade the Far East. He was dedicated to constructing coastal European defences so he could commit enough forces to Asia. Also, how committed he was to providing military forces or giving diplomatic attention to foreign continents is open to debate. Some historians claim that he was more focused on Europe, but others argue that he wanted to spread Communism as widely as possible. However, it seems like the chances that Stalin wanted to risk full-scale war with Germany were low. This was apparently true even after Hitler’s admittedly failed winter invasion.

High casualties were estimated for Operation Downfall, but the numbers fluctuated wildly. General Macarthur predicted 23 000 casualties in the first 30 days, and 125 000 after 120 days. Including the Japanese, 11 000-70 000 deaths were estimated by General Marshall. The numbers given by the Secretary of War’s staff were 1.7 million-4 million; 400 000-800 000 for the Americans, 5 million-10 million for the Japanese.

In anticipation of the Japanese invasion, 500 000 purple hearts were made. By some accounts, this is a higher number than all the U. S. casualties since World War Two! 120 000 of these awards were still left in 2003, and soldiers in Afghanistan and Iraq received some of them.

After the Japanese surrendered, they gave a lot of war supplies from their islands and South Korea to the Americans. These included land and navy weapons and vehicles, planes, and swords, the last of which were difficult to transport. I guess that it isn’t easy to safely store and ship swords without worrying about someone accidentally getting stabbed.

Operation Downfall was an elaborate invasion planned for after the bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It changed often, and the projected casualties fluctuated a lot. The detailed deception and complete overkill with the insane amount of nuclear weapons intended to be used shows how good human beings are at war. We have become very sophisticated and organized in the way we kill each other. Imagine how much worse off Japan would have been if Operation Downfall had been successfully used. 2 Atomic bombs is horrifying enough. Can you even image the soul-crushing carnage and bloodshed of 7-15 more of them?! I can scarcely contemplate that level of slaughter and destruction.

But this isn’t to say something like, “Ra-ra! America sucks!” To me, Operation Downfall paints a terrifying picture of the level of brutality that we as an entire species are capable of inflicting on each other. In my opinion, war is sometimes necessary because their are people who need to be stopped, like Hitler, Stalin, and Mussolini. But it’s also horrifying, and should be avoided at all costs. Human beings are so tribal that we demonize those in different groups. It causes people on all sides of every war to kill innocents out of xenophobia and nationalism. Bearing all this in mind though, Downfall also shows that the Japanese could have suffered a hell of a lot more than they did. They experienced undeserved incredible death and destruction. But it could have been at least three times worse.

One main aspect of Operation Downfall that I enjoy learning about is the level of misdirection involved in war. In the historian Dr. Thomas M. Huber’s book, Pastel: Deception in the Invasion of Japan, he mentions another book called Stratagem: Deception and Surprise in War. The author, Barton Whaley, argues that good deception planners are like playwrights. They need to have all the characters, actions and setting in place. He also says that these performances should always have a kernel of truth in them. That way, they can represent reality better and be more convincing.

…To be Continued…

The Cold Darkness of the Night: Chapter 72

August 22, 2019 by Andrew Meintzer

Here’s the link for people who want to support me on Patreon:

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Chapter 72

Sarah, Aaron, and Ray silently closed the doors of Ray’s car. They gathered around the trunk, grabbing their weapons. The deadly woman chose an M-16, and the other passenger pulled out a large shotgun, hefting it and feeling its weight. The driver removed and assembled his pristine sniper rifle, and led the way to the foreboding building. His partners fell in step alongside him.

As Ray trained his rifle on his environment, he noticed that Bill’s car was empty. The other killers must have already started infiltrating the looming structure.

The marksman’s partners followed him to a tall building across the street from their objective. Reaching the entrance, they split off in separate directions. Sarah circled around the right side while Aaron moved in the opposite direction.

Ray was not surprised when the light switch at the bottom of the staircase he was facing didn’t work. He turned on the flashlight attached to his rifle, illuminating the shadowy recesses. He made his way up the cracked and discoloured steps. It didn’t make sense to try the dilapidated elevators. Hordes of dust flying up as he moved the bright beam of light across them was his only greeting. Many years had passed since the filth had been disturbed.

Sarah took cover behind the derelict building, waiting to attack. Aaron rested his back against the left end of the wall as he reached it, ready for battle.

Why I love My Dog

August 14, 2019 by Andrew Meintzer

Here’s the link for people who want to support me on Patreon:

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Light reflects

Off his eyes,

He runs forward

To greet me.

Showing pure,

Genuine joy,

So excited,

With true glee.

He runs in circles,

Wags his tail around,

His tongue panting,

He jumps free

To lick my face,

Engulf my body,

His love and warmth

Fulfill me.

When I get home,

Even if the day

Has suffocated me

With fire,

My dog loves me,

Shows wholehearted support,

With illuminating

Desire.

I love him so much.

He makes me feel

Like life has moments

Of profound joy

And this is why

Every single day,

I truly cherish

My little boy.

He reminds me

That overwhelming

Darkness and evil

Will not prevail,

As long as we

Become shining beams

Of goodness and light,

We will not fail.

Adrenaline

July 16, 2019 by Andrew Meintzer

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His foot hit the concrete. He didn’t feel his feet on the ground. His body was just following the tunnel vision in his mind. His movements were automatic because his consciousness was hijacked by adrenaline.

He stopped at the end of the alleyway, his heart pounding in his ears. Putting his hands on his knees while he caught his breath, he looked back into the darkness. He could smell that someone had smoked a joint a few minutes ago. It was one of the last houses he had passed.

His hearing was obscured because his heart was pounding in his head like a drum. But his ears didn’t catch shuffling feet, or the clinking metal of a gun shifting around in someone’s hands.

It felt like he was safe for now. His ears confirmed that, once his heart slowed down enough for his hearing to work properly. He started strolling calmly down the sidewalk, going farther into the neighborhood. If he kept running, he would just draw attention to himself, especially if he headed toward the busy city street.

It was a mistake to go there so soon after he had killed him. He should have waited until things cleared up. Then suspicion would had been drawn away from her.

That was how it worked, always on to the next reaction to someone attacking one of their own. Or stealing from them, or getting arrested, or slipping a little of the product or cash aside for themselves.

Those people would tell themselves that it was for saving to get out of the damn neighborhood and get a real job, so they could protect their families. But they’d always just blow it all on more drugs, or strippers, or hookers. Or it could be some idiotic purchase like a flashy new gun or car. As if the cops wouldn’t notice. They all really just wanted to be Scarface. But they couldn’t admit it to themselves because that would validate a stereotype.

A black Honda Civic slinked up from around the corner. The tires squealed, but then it slowed down to try to creep up on him.

As the car approached, he opened a gate for a little wooden fence in front of a house. It was a few down from the one he’d passed. It would be dumb to make it seem like he was reacting to anything they did. They definitely suspected him, but he had already taken off his sweater and thrown it in someone’s yard, and they hadn’t seen his face yet.

After opening the gate, he made a show of pretending to find his keys. He fished deep in his pockets for them, then gradually fumbled them out and into his hands. He looked for a particular key, feeling the eyes of the men in the car boring into his back.

“Damn,” he swore out loud for their benefit, smacking his thighs with his palms. He made it look like he had forgotten his house key in his car, and was heading there. One was conveniently parked in front of the house.

The black Honda had tinted windows, so he couldn’t see who was inside. But it had pulled up to the curb about 10 feet behind the car he was walking towards.

He dropped his keys in front of the front wheel on purpose, making it look like an accident. His small silver pistol slipped into his hand from inside his boot as he grabbed his key with the other hand.

Keeping his gun obscured from the Honda’s view, he did the next three actions in one fluid motion. While the hand with the key in it drifted toward the door, he swung his gun around to aim at the Honda’s engine. He knew that the windows would be bulletproof. Burning metal started slamming into the front of the car from his pistol as his keys dropped to the ground. He grabbed his bigger black handgun from the back of his waistband before the keys landed. The weapon had been moved around a few times so the guys in the car wouldn’t see it.

All four windows of the Honda started rolling down, and he saw guns poke out of the openings. He ran back and then dove in front of the car where he had dropped his keys. Bullets shattered the windows and crashed into the metal and plastic.

He could smell gasoline. As soon as the shots stopped, he stepped out from in front of the car because he knew it would take them a few seconds to reload. Hot metal rapidly flew from both of his guns, pounding into the Honda’s engine.

One of the dumbasses started shooting from the Honda after seeing the flames coming out of it.

The dumbass shot him in the calf, so he fired the last barrage from his knees, grunting in agony on the way down. Another bullet hit his shoulder, shooting blood into the air.

The Honda exploded half a second later, propelling him upward and several feet down the road. He landed awkwardly on his injured shoulder, screaming in pain.

Then he looked up at the burning car, grinning and laughing quickly with smug victory. But another wave of agony shot through him a second later, blunting his ego.

Hearing sirens, he pushed himself to his feet and headed back to the main busy street. He would get lost in the crowd, then grab a jacket from a dumpster behind the clothing store he saw. Then he would hotwire a car on a mostly empty street, and vanish like smoke.

Journey to Africa: Part 2: Rwanda: Lost in Gisenyi

July 11, 2019 by Andrew Meintzer

Here’s the link for people who want to support me on Patreon:

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My friend, David (who I talked with about math and evolution on previous blogs, links are below.) went on a backpacking trip in Africa recently. This is his story of the experience of other cultures.

https://mindgasms.bplifetime.com/2017/07/14/math-evolution-meaning-life-dialogue-part-1/

https://mindgasms.bplifetime.com/2017/07/25/math-evolution-meaning-life-dialogue-part-2/

https://mindgasms.bplifetime.com/2017/08/04/math-evolution-meaning-life-dialogue-part-3/

This is the fifteenth blog in part 2 of this series. Here is the link for the page where the others can be found:

https://mindgasms.bplifetime.com/category/travel/

June 24, Lost in Gisenyi:

With my backpack all packed, I said goodbye. I walked out of the Mijo hostel, and was on the way to end my story, embracing the unknown all on my own. It was a great way to truly experience solo travel for the first time. I got on a bus, and hoped for the best. I had previously booked my hostel stay at Ste Theresa, which was the cheapest place I could find. I travelled with Patrick, who I met on the bus. He was a local preacher heading home to Muzanze.

Once I got to Gisenyi, another man helped me catch a boda boda to the location on the map on my phone. We agreed to 700 RWF for the cost to the site. However, once we got there, we noticed that the place seemed to not exist. The driver was asking around, and I didn’t have much to say due to the language barrier.

We eventually got the help of a local bus driver from the Serena hotel, the place around the corner from the pointer on my map. He made some phone calls, travelled with us to the location, and nothing was to be seen. I had all my stuff with me, no place to go, and limited communication. The time was getting later too, so I started becoming anxious. My phone battery was getting low, it was past 4pm, and this hostel didn’t seem to exist.

Fortunately, I had the idea that with wifi, I could get the hostel information from my email. But with no wifi in sight and a dying phone, things were becoming trickier.

Eventually, as a desperate measure, we went back to the hotel to connect to wifi and get the information. By then, I had already paid the boda boda driver 300 RWF more for the inconvenience of waiting. He was also concerned for my own safety, along with his desire to get back to work at the hotel. Low and behold, I got the number with 6% left on my phone, we called, and found the place. I paid the chauffeur 1000 RWF and expressed my gratitude as he left the site.

The hostel was a simple house with no wifi. The host spoke almost no English, and the few others staying there were also locals. At least I was happy to know that I had a safe place to stay, but my plan to use wifi to get my bearings straight was spoiled.

I charged my phone while I went out to scout for food and wifi. No one knew English. Communicating with pictograms of the wifi signal was my only option. With little daylight left, I decided to order a pizza at one of the places that I had checked out. On top of all the struggles I was going through, waiting for the pizza took the rest of my daylight hours.

I got back to the hostel while watching the stars in the sky, and wondering about my wifi situation. When I got back, I made yet another discovery. I didn’t have enough money to pay for the bike trip the next day. I needed an ATM A. S. A. P!

However, I was happy to learn that the directions to Rwanda Adventures were buried in the conversations I had with the organization. Late at night, after picking up my charged phone from the hostel, I went walking in the pitch dark streets of Gisenyi. It was populated by many locals walking to their destinations with food and supplies, so I assumed that it was pretty safe to travel, regardless of the blinding darkness. Lone men with groceries, and groups of women carrying supplies on their heads, gave me confidence to go out late and know that I was safe.

However, with all of the day’s events in mind, I was somewhat panicky. It seemed like anyone who remotely appeared to approach me from the darkness was going to stab me. I was jumpy, and every time I turned around abruptly to address the “tense” situation, people were probably wondering what was wrong with me.

I walked for a couple of hours, and eventually called it quits. I didn’t even know where I was on the map. I decided to search in the morning, So I headed back and went to sleep before starting my 91km journey the next day. At least I had directions to the bike place, where I was supposed to go. The only issue that remained was money.

The Cold Darkness of the Night: Chapter 71

July 9, 2019 by Andrew Meintzer

Here’s the link for people who want to support me on Patreon:

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Chapter 71

As the killers approached the old dilapidated building, Brian turned around to face Michael.

“Hey, I just thought of something,” he said. “How come no one seemed to give a fuck about a ton of gunshots that clearly came from your house? No other cops even came around. There’s no fucking way no one heard any of them.”

Michael said, “The people in my neighbourhood have an understanding with Marcel. As soon as I moved there, he personally went around to every house. No one questions anything that goes on in my house, and he provides protection for everyone and pays everyone’s electric bills.”

“Wow,” replied Brian. “That’s a good idea. People are more motivated by money and security than fear. ”

Bill pulled his Chevelle up to the curb, across the street and one block down from the ancient, crumbling building. The other vehicles followed. Brian, Bill, and Michael go out of the car, jumping into their predetermined route.

They made a beeline for the building next to their target. Reaching the wall, they quickly scanned the surroundings, registering every detail. Bill stepped around the corner and sprinted to the end of the next wall. He surveyed the area, detecting no signs of life while his partners caught up.

This part of the city was mostly deserted. It was full of abandoned, broken down structures. Bits and pieces of trash aimlessly blew around in the light chilling breeze of the early evening. The garbage reinforced the atmosphere of the dark faded streets, which were empty, and chipped away by the obdurate force of time.

Homeless people, seeking shelter from the elements and scavenging for food, sometimes stayed there. They were the only occupants. Most had been scared away by the assassins who had arrived several hours earlier.

Bill saw two snipers on top of his destination as he gingerly looked at the roof. He had expected that. Turning around, he held his hand up as he made eye contact with Brian and Michael, making a fist. The men waited for their partners to complete their part of the plan.

Cats, Bats and Shat

June 30, 2019 by Andrew Meintzer

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This is a 15 word sentence in which each word rhymes that I wrote for a contest:

“That fat cat sat at bat,” spat flat Matt, “dat brat Kat begat shat, splat!”

The Cold Darkness of the Night: Chapter 70

April 25, 2019 by Andrew Meintzer

Here’s the link for people who want to support me on Patreon:

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Chapter 70

Michael opened the front door, letting Natasha rush inside. She stopped just past the entryway, staring suspiciously at the unfamiliar men in her living room.

“Dad?” She turned around and looked at her father quizzically.

Still experiencing the elated aftereffects of taking Natasha out for ice cream, he looked around the room, then down at her.

“These people work with me, sweetheart,” Michael said. Then he addressed everyone.

“Where’s Marcel, guys?”

Matt answered. “He’s in your office, talking to Sarah.” He rotated his head toward Michael as he spoke.

“All right,” Michael moved his gaze back to Natasha. “Why don’t you go up to your room for a little bit, honey? I just have to talk to Uncle Marcel, and then you can hang out with him, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed in her energetic voice, turning to run upstairs.

After she vanished, he walked down the hallway to his office and knocked on the door.

“Yes?” Marcel answered, his authoritative tone tinged with mild impatience.

His nephew opened the door and stepped inside. Then they told each other what was going on. They finished their discussion by outlining what would happen next. The plan was dissected in minute detail. When they were done, Michael and Sarah left the office, and Marcel beckoned Brian to him while he stood in the open doorway.

The gargantuan killer followed his boss’s instructions, closing the door as Michael stepped out of the way. Everyone outside the office respectfully ignored the deep voices that soaked through the thin walls of the house.

After a few minutes passed, Brian stepped out of the room and gathered his partners while Marcel went to look after Natasha. Within a few minutes, the assassins left, speeding toward the culmination of their mission.

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