I'm War, if you wanna be orthodox (joke), or Willie as my bro's call me. An' this ain’t my experiment. Far as I'm concerned, it's a waste a' virtual space. You won't listen! You'll read, maybe, but ya won't listen. An' you ain't controllable anyway, no matter what we do. Petey's right about that much. So what am I gonna say here? I got wars to fuel on a trillion trillion Earths. More than that! An' it gets harder all th' time. I got throats ta cut. Maybe I should prove to ya I'm who I say I am? Do I really care if ya believe me? Nah. You're the medium I work in, like Petey says. That's all you are. Does th' artist talk to his or her raw material? Actually, what little I know about artists, some of 'em probably do. Freaks. But do they give a hop if their paints and paper or if th' stone they're carvin' hate 'em? Love 'em? Believe they're for real? That's Frankie (Famine) an' Petey's moonshine. And Dave (Death)'s sometimes. It all comes from what they call 'the day we woke up and realized who we were and what we were doin'. Which sort of demonstrates th' first point I oughta make: how time ain't the line you think it is. Remember that. It's only a line yer armies march along an'count off to 'cause that's the way yer designed to see it. More like, actually it's an 'outer-inflicted' fog (Petey's phrase). Somewhere we are still tearin' through the skies, weapons ready, brainless (boy do I miss those days). Somtetimes we can access that period, an' watch ourselves. Kinda fun. Just like you in the fancy house on th' Cote d'Azur or the suburb a' Shanghai are at th' same time still crouchin' in a cave waitin' fer th' half-starved bear-dog to pass you by. Just like Diocletian an' Galerius're still out there somewhere garrotin' Christians. Just like Rabbi Joshua bar-Joseph is still hangin' from th' center cross on some Golgotha someplace else. Not going to tell you your business, but shouldn't you of taken 'im down by now? Yer savior ?
"So why was I called? To make it worse."
Just as well that Time's a vapor tho' 'cuz as ya' should be able t' guess, I don't remember our first few years so good anyhow. I haveta go back an' look. Gives me an excuse. I mean, it wasn't a neat procession a' events anyway. Well, there was th' day we lost our mounts, an' the day we lost our weapons. As soon as we looked around an' understood, even th' afterimage melted away. Again. That was weird. Not that we didn' find new ones soon enough! Want a bag of eyes?
But more about moonshine. That's what I call it. My bro's say what they do is their art sometimes. Well, let 'em. What do thinkin' beings do? Rationalize. That’s th' word. Like you never did it. It's why wakin' up 1500 years ago was no positive thing. Gets in my way. But I'll manage.
Next, about war. You men an' women an' children start wars, an' I conduct 'em and finish 'em. I'm th' random factor, t' get fancy about it. I am Ivar th' Boneless' line of defense collapsin' under a hail a' severed hands an' heads, thanks t' Aelfrid the Great. No idea why that never made it into th' history books! I am what happens when ya weren't expecting it. I am th' extermination a' the Goths at Naissus. Actually we all were, but later fer that war story. I am th' Confederate guns runnin' outta ammo at Gettysburg… point a' fact, if the Rebels'd bombarded th' Union line fer twice as long as they did there an' then before th' charge, I bet th' Federals would have taken a hike an' the USA'd be th' CSA right now. I am th' siege a' Stalingrad. I am the fall a' Tikal. I am every war that's ever been fought or will be fought since 90 C.E. I am Armageddon. Not 'will be.' Am . Maybe you better take a look an' see how many angels there are assembled on th' plain a' Megiddo in yer own membrane. Waitin'. Might be later than ya think. An' then again, maybe not. Look anyway. I'll be here when ya get back. I'm not goin' anywhere. You are. Oh, yeah. More about 'membranes' comin' up. Be patient, aright?
So. What's yer answer so far? Should you wonder? I think so. Should you spit in my eye? Do ya even know what I look like? Do what ya will. Hide anyplace. Makes no difference. We're still here, an' if yer still readin' this, it's 'cause yer appointment with us ain't up yet. If not with somebody else. Doesn't matter. An' this's where I'll leave ya, for now. Why was I called when humanity knows how t' wage war just fine without me, anyway? Let's not forget th' battle a' Actium, th' siege a' Troy, any number a' Roman an' Greek civil wars, th' Egyptians against th' Hittites, th' children a' Abraham vs. pretty much everybody... So why was I called out? Why was all four of us brought forth? To make it worse.
Actually, I'm startin' to like this. –W.firstname.lastname@example.org