Showing off our dominion over, what? The sky?
The old technology is easy to see.
I know, it's hard to think of it as the old technology.
But it already is... quite old... and it's quite easy to see.
Do you see it?
And of the new technology, well, one only really sees what they want you to see.
Were you there?
Did you see it?
Of course, if you are wise, you only saw what they wanted you to see?
I mean, you can see that?
So, the real question remains.
What did they want you to see?
The sonic boom?
Is that what they wanted you to see? A sonic boom, as the planes roared over the crowd, coming in from the backside, such a surprise?
I know I didn't see that coming.
So, maybe that's what they wanted us to see.
Back in the Real World, that commonly agreed upon Reality, they have a saying.
Now, what do they say there?
Ah, yes. Now I remember.
An army travels on its stomach.
And since this is the Internet, let me show you what I had to eat that day: deep fried pork from a cozy little place deep in the Heart of Chinatown.
So, anyway, as to the picture, it's clearly a reference to the adage.
An army travels on its stomach.
But as to an army actually travelling on its stomach, in this day and age, it doesn't really hit the nail on the head anymore. So, we need to update the wording and say something more along the lines of:
A Military Industrial Complex thrives on the morale of its people.
And what better way to judge the morale of a people... than a showing of force, the taking over of a city for a day... or a week... plus or minus a few days?
After all, what's a few days... among friends?
Reminds me of a time, back in the day, for a few days, when all the boys went out onto the green to smoke a bit of smoke.
You remember smoking a bit of smoke, don't you.
They had a good name for that little celebration. They called it Hash Wednesday. And some of the fools (and they were young, so all of them were fools) thought it was a day of general amnesty, that everyone had agreed, even those guys on the rooftops... with their telescopic lenses... odd what a camera can see, record, and keep track of, that even those guys had agreed... to a general amnesty on the day.
And sure enough, true to their word, their exact word, it had turned out to be a general day of amnesty. But it didn't last: not more than that single day, that afternoon, certainly not into the weekend, nor through the next week, when all of the papers were suddenly full of stories, countless stories of drug dealing debauchery... and arrest.
The biggest seizure in twenty years... or, you know, at least... since they'd held this little 'Amnesty Celebration' the year before.
'Boys. That worked so well, I think we might just do it again next year.'
And sure enough, they did... not that the same folks were there, if you know what I mean.
So... at this air show, fleet week, Cesar and his troops in town for the day, a week, maybe closer to a fortnight, well, I don't know what they were doing here (or was it there), besides showing off, that is. But I'm pretty sure, you know, my Spidey Senses are telling me, there was something more to it all than met the eye, much-much more.
Maybe you saw it? That more?
And if you did, are you willing to tell, break ranks, and give up your security clearance?
Or maybe you're just a civilian who saw a bit much, a bit too much... at which point, you have to ask yourself where your loyalties lie.
It's not a coincidence that a bit of food, of savory delight, lands smack dab in the middle of this post. I know on which side my bread is buttered... and mighty fine bread it be.
So, it's root-root
For the home team,
If they don't win
We'll all be screwed.
And it's one, two,
And they're gone
At the old air show.
© copyright 2017 Brett Paufler