Excellent analysis here.
Our ethical bankruptcy is going to kill us, not a virus.
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Author Archives: Sean T. Smith
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Russia Rising: The Cold War Gets Arctic
The search for a Russian submarine off the coast of Sweden conjures images of Tom Clancy novels, and sheds light on a conflict brewing for generations. The cold war never ended, and it’s more dangerous now than it ever was. The U.S. military is paying attention; the rest of us should, too, for our lives and the lives of our children depend upon it. This is not the time to be slashing our defense spending, and in particular, thinning the ranks of our military by giving the boot to combat veterans and officers with experience in the name of slashing budgets. It’s ludicrous and dangerous. I’ve personally spoken to many active duty personnel who are outraged by these cuts, this purge, and while I at first thought it was some kind of spin, I’m now certain it is true. It scares me. Russia is rising. In the Ukraine, Russia sends in troops under the guise of humanitarian response, ignores the rest of the world, and pursues its own expansionist goals with methodical, ruthless abandon. There is method to their madness.
U.S. fighter jets intercepted Russian bombers off Alaska and California in June, another in a long string of recent potentially deadly aerial encounters. Four long-range Russian Tu-95 Bear-H bombers, accompanied by an aerial refueling tanker, flew into the U.S. Air Defense Identification Zone, an area extending 200 miles from the North American coast, off Alaska, where they were intercepted by U.S. F-22 fighter jets.
Two of the Russian bombers peeled off and headed west, while the other two flew south and were identified by U.S. F-15 fighters within 50 miles of the California coast.
Gen. Herbert “Hawk” Carlisle, in a presentation to the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington, said this:
“They’ve come with their long-range aviation off the coast of California; they circumnavigated Guam,” Carlisle said, showing a picture of a U.S. F-15 fighter “intercepting” a Russian bomber off the Pacific island.
In April, a Russian SU-24 fighter jet made a dozen close-range passes by an American warship, the USS Donald Cook, in the Black Sea in what the Pentagon called a “provocative” move while tension continued to ramp up in the region.
Earlier this week, two Canadian F-18 fighter jets intercepted a Russian aircraft over the Baltic Sea, as Russian military activity increased in the area.
in September, NORAD reported that Canadian and U.S. jets scrambled and intercepted six Russian aircraft within the Air Defense Identification Zone, which rings most of North America.
Russia has simulated bombing runs against Sweden, invaded its air space time and time again. Fighter jets swoop in on NATO aircraft, violating both common sense and international law, roll to show off a weapons load, and then stick around until the West scrambles fighters to escort the Russians away.
Why would Russia be doing this? To test response time, of course. To intimidate and bully, certainly. To probe for weakness. What is their long game?
It’s about oil and power.
Recent discoveries of oil and gas under the sea floor in the arctic reveal that the area may contain up to 30% of the worlds oil reserves. Since much of the ice is melting, a new Northern Sea Route, an alternative to the Suez Canal is a real possibility.
Arctic Military Command
The Russian news agency RIA Novosti reports that a 6000 member force of permanent troops will be established in the Arctic region. Russia is reactivating Soviet bases in the area. They annexed an island last week, and are building air strips capable of supporting fighter jets. Russian Defense Minister Sergey Shoigu said on Tuesday, “We have moved into the Arctic rather actively and this year we shall have many units deployed along the Arctic Belt – in fact from Murmansk to the Chukotka Peninsula.” He went on to say,“This is fundamental, large-scale work.”
Russia is shifting it’s fleet, creating a new Northwest Command, which will protect it’s interest in the arctic region. Russian training exercises, including the use of paratroopers, has increased exponentially in the last year.
President Putin announced in September that Russia is developing new nuclear weapons and increasing its offensive capability. Russia’s nuclear deterrent and doctrine is based around the use of a First Strike. The United States has announced it will also increase it’s nuclear capabilities, and is developing weapons capable of striking targets anywhere in the world within an hour. Over the last year, both countries have increased the deployment of nuclear weapons.
Earlier this month, Russia announced it will not renew the twenty-year old Nunn-Lugar Cooperative Threat Reduction Program, which was a crucial partnership between the United States and Russia to dismantle and decommission chemical and nuclear weapons. More than 7,600 warheads were dismantled under that program.
Now, both sides are building more nuclear weapons
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The Land Grab
Against this backdrop of threats and volatility and military buildup, a land grab is coming. Russia is going to try for more oil-rich land, and it’s going to happen in the north. They may try to invade one of the Baltic nations, testing NATO’s resolve. Russia could waltz into Sweden or Norway with little conventional resistance. Much of Europe is disarmed, relying on NATO and the United States for defense. But would the U.S. or NATO be willing to use nuclear weapons in that event? If Russia puts boots on the ground, supported by armored divisions and aircraft, how does that war end without one side resorting to the use of weapons of mass destruction? The use of a tactical nuke on a battlefield could lead in seconds to a retaliation and escalation.
There is always hope, and perhaps clear heads will indeed prevail.
I wrote about the outcome of such a conflict in my novel Objects of Wrath. If you are intrigued and terrified by this scenario, please check out my books!
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“We’ve got this.” Misplaced Faith in the Government
I grew up believing that the government of the United States pretty much had things under control. We prevailed in World War II, put a man on the moon, did not engage in a shooting war with the Soviet Union and managed not to blow up the planet. Sure, there were some missteps, but overall, when I listened to Ronald Regan on the evening news, I felt confidant that the our leaders had things under control. After 9-11, I had the prickly feeling in the back of my head that I was wrong. Now, more than a decade later, events prove that when the government says “we’ve got this,” we should take that with a hearty grain of salt.
In the area of Northeast Florida where I live, gated neighborhoods have sprung up like weeds. Some have security guards out front, while others use automated gates. These gates make people feel safe behind their walls, and they pay hundreds of dollars per month in HOA fees to feel that way. It’s absurd, though, an illusion of security rather than the real thing. On any given day, in these sprawling McMansion neighborhoods, hundreds of construction workers, lawn crews, and house staff waltz through the gates. Many of these are undocumented workers, some, no doubt convicted felons. It amuses me. The United States is like one of these gated neighborhoods. We desperately want to believe in our own security and supremacy, and that when the government spokesman gets on the news and offers his assurances that there is nothing to worry about, he’s telling the truth.
We’ve learned that the FBI warned about the potential threat presented by the 9-11 terrorists. The government clearly did not have that under control. We went to war in Iraq because we believed that Saddam possessed weapons of mass destruction. Whoops. (Now that the region has been destabilized by more than a decade of fighting, ISIL is an evil menace that makes Saddam look like a cute puppy.) We’ve yet to respond properly to that threat, in my humble opinion. I hope our leaders figure this one out before the enemy breaches the gates, because evil knocking, and it’s hungry.
When Katrina leveled New Orleans, it took days before FEMA arrived and any kind of order took place. We saw the bodies in the streets. The government didn’t have that under control. Not by a long shot.
Our embassies have been bombed and attacked around the world, despite warnings, costing American lives. One hand seldom knows what the other is doing, it seems.
A crazy guy with hundreds of rounds of ammunition, firearms, and knives in his car gets past the gates at the White house, and makes it all the way inside before he is finally subdued. Are you kidding me? The alarm had been muted because it annoyed the staff. The Secret Service clearly did not have that handled.
Ebola is now here in the United States, and the CDC is telling us not to worry about that. Yet we find that this guy in Texas was sent home by the hospital even after he told them he’d just come back from Africa. After he was diagnosed, local officials entered his apartment without wearing the proper protective gear. The U.S. has been staggeringly slow to respond to the crisis, and bungled the first known case on our own soil. So when I’m told not to worry, I laugh.
I’m not going to stay up at night wringing my hands. I love the United States, and we are a great nation, a great people, and there is a reason that the world still turns to us for help in time of need. But when they say, “we’ve got this,” I don’t believe it any more, not even for a minute.
“We hoped that clear heads would prevail. We were wrong.”
Prayers from the cave…
I recently spent two weeks in Nashville, where I spent time with old friends, played music, and caught up on the years we’ve missed. I attended a function hosted by my publisher, and got to meet many fellow authors, and I made some new friends. It was a wonderful time, a period of self reflection, hope, and sentimentality all at once, and I learned a tremendous amount. The most important part of the trip, though, happened on the way home, somewhere between Valdosta Georgia and the Florida state line.
I’ve struggled for the last year or so with my faith. It’s almost funny, because one of the central conflicts in my first two books revolves around the battle between faith and doubt as darkness closes in. My own internal war ended up mirroring some of the strife I’ve put my characters through; my characters dealt with this better than I did personally, and when I wrote those books, I believed I’d put that particular struggle behind me. I was wrong. I’ve been embattled on a variety of fronts for the last year, and it took a hard toll upon my soul until it reached a point where I began to question that which I knew to be true. I wondered where God was, and I went so far as to question the validity of His promises, to wonder about His goodness. Heresy, I know, and wrong-headed, but I don’t think I’m alone in this kind of battlefield. Somehow, I’d managed to succumb to a sense of hopelessness, and I’d put myself in a cave.
A man bereft of hope is like body without bones; there is nothing to hold him upright and together. I’d become that guy, without really knowing it, without seeing a way out. And when that happens, the instinct is to retreat, to become defensive and withdrawn, to cast blame and doubt around with careless abandon. We isolate ourselves, which only makes things worse.I felt very much like an Object of Wrath, ignoring in my own mind the second part of that very important verse in Ephesians.
So, driving through the hills of Alabama, the long stretches of construction south of Atlanta along I-75, I had plenty of time to think. Mostly, I listened to music on Spotify, and I reflected on the new friends I’d made and the old friends I’d reconnected with. Right around Valdosta, my phone died, and the music ended. I couldn’t find anything to listen to, so I hit the “seek” button on the truck radio, and I heard Dr. David Jerimiah begin to speak.
It was a sermon titled Praying From the Cave, based around Psalm 142. David (the king, not the preacher) was in a cave, running from Saul. He was depressed, isolated to the point that other men did not care if he lived or died. Yet within that dark place, David cried out to God, thanking him and praising him, laying his burdens at God’s feet, recognizing his own pain, and turning to God for refuge.
About ten minutes into the sermon, something happened.
I’ve had times where I felt God’s presence, singing in church with hand held high, a joyful noise on my lips and a connection to the Creator, like an electric thrum of peace and rightness. I’ve been touched by a sermon or a verse, and felt convicted, nudged, and I’ve had verses jump out at me as though they were highlighted in bright yellow.
This thing that happened somewhere in Georgia was different; God hit me in the head with a ball bat. I was driving down the road with tears on my face, broken. Facing myself and my doubt, my mistakes and delusions and bitterness. God slayed me, and I was shattered. I prayed then, and I could almost see a darkness, like ashes swirling in the wind, leaving from my chest. It sounds nuts, but there was a palpable, physical sensation of great weight being lifted, immediately followed by hope and joy.
I thought I’d cried out to God before, and I’ve been on my knees. But there was something in me left then, some element of reserve or doubt or perhaps pride which prevented the profound kind of healing I so desperately craved. I understood that God had been right there with me all along. That no matter what happens, I’m still a part of his plan, and that even though it may not seem so at the time, in the end, all things do work for His good. I’d forgotten that my hope lies with Jesus, and everything else is really the small stuff. I’d neglected certain things and ignored certain truths. These things were made clear to me in an instant. I’ve got some work to do, but I’m not alone, and I never was.
Somewhere in Georgia, I reconnected with my best friend, the most important friend I’ll ever have; he was beside me all along.
Ephesians 2:3-5
“We were by nature objects of wrath. Because of his great love for us, but God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive in Christ even when we were dead in transgressions. It is by grace you have been saved.”
Psalm 142:6-8
“Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need; rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me. Set me free from my prison, that I may raise your name. Then the righteous will gather around me because of your goodness to me.”
Children of Wrath by Sean T. Smith | The Bookie Monster
To Simply Be… A writer looks at fifty
I’ve struggled for decades to be happy. It’s a character flaw, and while sometimes I believe this makes me a better writer, I think at the end of the day, at the end of a lifetime, it means I’ve missed much, moments of contentment when I could simply be. I’ve been poor, and raged against the poverty, and let chances slip away. I’ve been fairly well off, and then there was always something else… the desire to have children, the yearning for recognition and success at another level. Always living with the feeling I’m missing some vital piece, which if I could obtain, would make me whole at last, make me smile down deep in my soul.
Maybe with the recognition of it, I can change on a fundamental level, but this flaw runs deep. I am blessed with wonderful children, and when I walked home alone from the bus stop a few minutes ago, the sun bright and the air cool, missing my boys already, I began to reflect on this thing within me. How it will feel in the not so distant future to be me.
When the swing set is silent and rusted and I am grey, when the patter of little feet no longer graces my life and the light in my eyes grows dim and I have those memories and pictures, what is it I will recall? How will I feel on those mornings, drinking a cup of coffee at my desk and staring at a computer screen and bleeding onto the page, remembering the things I should have paid better attention to in those fleeting moments, the things that matter. Trying to get the memory right.
My five year old coming to me with a Bernstein Bears book for his bed time story, happy and shining with pure love for me, a love I can never deserve because it is so true. Holding my baby, his head in the palm of my had because he is no longer than my forearm, dancing around the living room at three o’clock in the morning with him to sooth him back to sleep while Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons plays on the radio, and I am sleep deprived and worried about getting to work on time the next morning, but still dancing, still infused with a sense of wonder at this life I hold in my hands. My boys, the oldest ten now, decked out in army gear, complete with helmets, load bearing vests, holsters and assault rifles, running around the house shooting the attacking Russian zombie horde. In a year or two, he’ll be too old for that, and I miss it already.
Walking through the woods as a family, a tiny hand in mine, questions about the trees and wildlife, and the sunlight filtering through the canopy of Live Oaks and Spanish Moss and the air fresh and cool and golden. Such joy, such fleeting perfection.
Christmas morning, together with grandparents, all still with us now, the excitement electric in the air to see what Santa brought, toys and paper flying all over the floor beneath the tree, laughter sweet music. But was exhausted, stressed about money, tired of long days working in the cold and the rain, and I did not let that music in me the way I should have, not in a way that fills the soul. Looking back on it, it fills me and brings tears to my eyes, but when it was happening, I did not appreciate it enough.
There will always be another thing. A better job, a nicer car, keeping the lights on, selling more books, writing a masterpiece, drama with jerks, stormy weather, and bad traffic. Somewhere along the way, even the joy of writing itself has been dampened by the need to promote, to sell, to succeed. I resolve to do my part, but I am sure I can’t do it alone.
I’ve got a God-shaped hole, and the only way to find true, lasting happiness is to fill that with Him. Unless I do that, the world will forever be bereft of its proper color, faded and less vibrant.
When I look back years from now, I want to remember things as they were, not as I wish they had been. I’ve still got a chance at happiness, and it’s time I start living.
The End of Times… War and Rumors of War
Mankind has always possessed a morbid fascination with the apocalypse. From the Biblical Flood and Mayan calendar to modern day science fiction, civilizations have been aware and intrigued, sometimes terrified, by their impending doom. In fiction, this is entertaining, but the reality is more chilling. Societal collapse has been a recurrent theme in our history, and perhaps this is one of the reasons we are drawn to books like The Stand and television shows like The Walking Dead.
For many Christians, the End of Times means the rise of the Anti Christ, Armageddon, and the return of Jesus. Christians have been looking toward the heavens for about two thousand years now, wondering if this is it.
Sad ruins remain to remind us that the world as we know it is far from eternal. Entire cultures in the Pacific rose and fell, and disappeared. The mighty Mayans are gone, the Roman Empire fell, sacked and destroyed from within. Yet, even those breakdowns did not lead to the destruction of the human race. Life went on.
Only in the last sixty years, the blink of an eye in terms of history, has mankind developed the ability to cause its own extinction. While in the past, a meteor strike, super-volcano, or a blast from a star light years away could have erased us from the planet, we now can do it ourselves with the push of a button.
A global nuclear war is one obvious way this could happen. To put this in perspective, consider that Russia and the United States possess thousands of nuclear weapons. Russian weapons are dirtier and their largest nukes are more powerful than those in the United States’ arsenal, but it’s irrelevant. The tipping point for a nuclear winter is roughly one hundred explosions, according to the most recent science. There has been debate over the years on this topic, with some estimates coming in at only thirty or forty simultaneous explosions causing the planet to go cold. If thousands of these weapons were launched, that’s the end of us. The atmosphere is choked with radioactive ash, obstructing sunlight, the temperature falls, plants die, and there is no more food. The animals die, and homo sapiens perish right along with the rest of them.
In the last sixty years, we have also decided to come up with other, creative weapons of extinction. Biological weapons could do the job just as well as nuclear bombs. Our scientists tinker with viruses, which actually alter DNA, finding ways to make these things more deadly. A genetically altered virus could end our species. We’re looking at the worst outbreak of Ebola, a virus as scary as its name, which according to Dr. Tom Frieden, the Director for the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, “is the world’s first Ebola epidemic, and it’s spiraling out of control. It’s bad now, and it’s going to get worse in the very near future. There is still a window of opportunity to tamp it down, but that window is closing. We really have to act now.”
Against this backdrop, we now have the greatest level of danger in the world we’ve seen since World War II, with Russia poised to trigger a global war over the Ukraine, and Vladimir Putin on the throne and his finger on the button, not the kind of man to face in the ultimate game of chicken. Because, he’s the guy that doesn’t swerve at the last minute. Then of course, there is the militant, insane, ISIS movement which is spreading like the black plague, a tide of evil which is consuming countries torn by war. The radicals are willing to stop at nothing, bereft of the slightest shred of morality or human decency, killing innocents without remorse or hesitation, and seeming to relish every shot Shia, every cut throat.
In Gaza, Israel sends in armored vehicles to stop rocket attacks on civilians, and levels schools, homes, and lives. Israel is defending itself against attack, against those who use children as human shields in order to gain support from around the world. Hamas WANTS to provoke Israel into these attacks. It’s Terror 101. Israel becomes more isolated from the rest of the world, increasingly vulnerable to attack from neighbors who have invaded time and time again. Israel also has nuclear weapons, and while they will never confirm this, everybody knows. If Israel is attacked, and it’s really just a matter of time, they will use these weapons if it looks like the war is lost. It’s called the Sampson Option, and it is chilling.
The Old and New Testament in the Bible lay out some things which have come to pass that are irrefutable, though seemed highly unlikely. Israel, it was foretold, would cease to exist, and it’s people would be scattered. That happened more than once. The temple would be torn down. The Romans did that. Israel would become a nation again. This seemed impossible, yet in 1948 Israel was again a nation. One of the last important pieces of scriptural prophecy is the rebuilding of the Temple. There are plans underway now in Jerusalem to do just that.
Whether one believes in the prophecy or not, those things did happen. The book or Revelation, the last and scariest book of the Bible, is rife with images and verses open to debate, with the scrolls and seals being opened, the four horsemen of the apocalypse coming, and death on a pale horse riding to doom mankind.
These may not be the end of times, and perhaps humanity will figure out a way to become better, alter its essential warlike nature and selfishness and transcend the hatred we wield like a sword. At no time in all of human history, though, has the end seemed quite so imminent or possible.
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Author Sean T. Smith 