Thomas Wictor

Innocent, really stupid, and miserably unhappy

Innocent, really stupid, and miserably unhappy

Not a day goes by without a stranger trying to disrupt my life by being what they think is shocking. They’re so innocent. I’m not capable of being shocked by negativity. What shocks me is improvement, which is why I write about the Middle East.

Innocent of what can happen

After a lot of thought, I’ve decided what I would wish for if I found a genie in a lamp.

First, an aside.

One of the greatest pieces of film ever made is “Je Souhaite,” Season Seven, Episode 21 of The X-Files. It’s about a genie rolled up in a carpet. Je souhaite means “I wish”; the genie was a French peasant girl from the sixteenth century. She became a genie after wishing for great power and long life from another genie.

The genie was played perfectly by Paula Sorge.

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Everyone who unrolls the genie from her carpet is granted three wishes. After the third wish, the genie rolls herself up again. This little gem of a story is based on the old adage “Beware what you wish for, because you just might get it.”

There are unforeseen consequences to everything you think you want.

If I had one wish, it would be that I could grant anyone my consciousness.

Innocent and pernicious

People think they’re being offensive when they send me insulting messages or photos of corpses. They read my own words and then assault me based on what they think will do the most damage.

There isn’t a single person in the world who can hurt me. All of you “edgy,” belligerent runts would last exactly one second inside my head. You have no clue how much pain can be inflicted on one person.

I inherited multiple traits from my father, Edward Joseph Wictor.

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His salient characteristic was willpower. He willed himself to live eighty-four years despite smoking five packs of cigarettes a day, drinking up to two fifths of scotch a day, and eating nothing but beef, bacon, eggs, salami, cheese, bread, potatoes, beans, HORSERADISH, ice cream, pie, and cake.

It took me fifty-three years to realize that I’d inherited my father’s force of will. So did my brother Tim. We always knew that everything was off, but we were determined to survive anyway. Though we drank and took drugs, both of us quit without knowing that the other had. There was no drama; we just stopped because we felt…embarrassed. We’re TITANIC alcoholics. Tim kept a pitcher of vodka and orange juice in his refrigerator at all times, and I drank beer, wine, or whiskey every night from the age of eighteen to thirty.

Tim took amphetamines, and I smoked pot and snorted coke or speed. Every day. The point was to become obliterated.

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We were running from the truth.

The truth caught up to us anyway, as it always does. Nothing chases you like truth.

Innocent and petulant

Both Tim and I were creatures of total rage. As children and teenagers, we fought each other until we were bloody. I never killed any animals, but I mistreated them. Not physically, and not often. Hurting animals tortured me with guilt. It still does.

If I were able to inject my consciousness into someone, that person would be assailed by mind-bending horror that never stops. Tim and I control our horror with psychotropic medication. Trauma changes the chemistry of your brain. So does stress. The medication allows us to put the horror at arm’s length. That’s all. We live second by second, and we both have chronic nightmares.

So getting photos or messages from some innocent stranger has no impact on me. Imagine the worst; Tim and I lived it. Everything.

Yet we’re not angry. The rage fell away when I accepted my reality. I have to admit that I’m not empathetic to some distress. Europe has imported millions of zombie rapists, but is anyone doing anything about it? That’s why I have no patience for the endless “Look what the bastards did now!” stories that people send me. Europeans aren’t children. Nobody’s stopping them from enforcing their laws. If they choose to die, it’s not my problem.

And don’t blubber to me about how you think I’m being callous toward the poor women. The women are thanking their rapists. Here’s a Facebook post from a German 24-year-old who was raped.

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Translation.

Dear male refugees, perhaps of my age. Perhaps a few years younger. A bit older.

I am so sorry!

Almost a year ago I saw the hell from which you have fled. I was not directly in the heart of it, but I visited the people in the refugee camp in southern Kurdistan. I saw old grandmothers who had to take care of too many children without parents. I saw the eyes of these children. Some had not lost their light. But I also saw children whose gaze was empty and traumatizing. I showed Arabic characters to around 20 Yazidi children in their maths class and still remember how a small girl started crying only because a chair fell.

I have had a taste of the hell from which you fled. I didn’t see what happened there and didn’t experience the challenging journey you had to make.

I am glad and happy that you managed to get here. That you were able to leave the Islamic State and its war behind and did not drown in the Mediterranean.

But I am afraid you are not safe here.

Burning asylum homes, daily attacks on refugees and a brownshirt mob running through the streets. I have always fought against the fact that that’s how it is here.

I wanted an open, friendly Europe. One in which I’d be happy to live and where we would both be safe. Sorry.

I am so unbelievably sorry for both of us.

You, you are not safe, because we live in a racist society. I, I am not safe because we live in a sexist society.

But what I am most sorry about is that the circumstances of the sexist and excessive actions that were done to me will only contribute to the increasing and ever more aggressive racism to which you are exposed.

I promise you I will scream. I will not allow it to go on happening. I will not look on and do nothing and let it happen when racists and concerned citizens say you are the problem.

You are not the problem. You are actually not any problem. You are mostly wonderful people, who have earned the right as much as anyone else to be safe and free. Thank you for being who you are – and it’s great that you are here.

She’s fine with being raped, since a Muslim refugee did it.

Guess what? Women aren’t the only people who can be raped. Some rape victims never recover, never forgive, and don’t make excuses for rapists based on race, ethnicity, or religion. Europe is a perverted madhouse. I blame Jew-hate.

Innocent blockheads

The reason women thank their rapists, politicians forbid their security forces from acting, and ridiculous poseurs on social media want to be offensive is that none of it is real to them. This is all a movie.

And therein lies my great admiration for Saudi Arabia.

Saudi political and military leaders are rooted in reality. So are the men they’ve sent to Yemen, Syria, and Iraq. And another place. Israel has confirmed one of my theories.

The IDF released footage of a recently discovered Hamas attack tunnel being destroyed. It was a massive operation.

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Road graders, front-end loaders, civilian drilling machines… We’ve heard that fourteen Hamas tunnels have collapsed. They were all in Gaza, and there was obviously no earth-moving equipment used.

It’s Arab commandos. I have absolutely no doubt. Look at this.

Hamas employs more than 1,000 operatives to excavate underground tunnels in the Gaza Strip, Israel Radio reported Thursday.

To prepare for a possible future incursion with Israel, the Palestinian terrorist organization’s elite ‘Nukhbah’ unit carries out drills practicing different scenarios simulating offenses in the tunnels near the border fence with Israel. Several of the members of the unit have been killed in recent months in tunnel collapses in the coastal Palestinian enclave, according to the Israel Radio report.

So the tunnelers aren’t dying; it’s the Hamas infiltrators. They’re being killed while training. It’s specific targeting based on intelligence.

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Marwan Marouf was a Hamas infiltrator. He was killed in a tunnel collapse. At his funeral, they stuffed cotton into his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth to keep the liquefied contents of his head from leaking out.

He was killed by a pressure wave. Men armed with inconceivably powerful explosives are going into Gaza, killing the Nukhbah, and collapsing their tunnels. I’m sure that the IDF is fully capable of doing that, but the risk to the soldiers would be astronomical. Arabs can blend in and strike without being detected. In Yemen, Syria, and Iraq, the commanders of every Iranian, Houthi, Iranian proxy, jihadist, and Russian unit have been killed.

These men were as innocent as toddlers when it comes to awareness of Arab League capabilities. Bigotry cost them their lives.

People on social media are innocent of how bad things can be for some of us. They’d better hope that they never discover firsthand what a person can survive.

As for me, I’m with the Arab League. Specifically, I’m with the Saudis. My support for Israel hasn’t diminished in the slightest. The Saudis are using Israeli weapons, after all. Israel is a great country, a leader in every field of human endeavor.

But there’s no Breaking the Silence in Saudi Arabia. Members of the armed forces fully accept the realities of soldiering.

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“A country you don’t protect is a country you don’t deserve to live in.”

For the innocent

Now the Saudis are firmly enforcing the ethos “Live and let live, or you die.” They brook no argument. All over the Middle East, persecuted minorities suddenly have the confidence to speak out and act. It’s because they have protectors, men who kill without the slightest hesitation.

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I could’ve used Saudi strategic special operators when I was a child, but now other children are being saved.

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That knowledge is what helps me get through each day.


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