Even Further

I hope that someone among you finds this of interest or even useful. If not, oh well, CaptianKev still had fun writing it.

As I sit here thinking of words to place on this phosphor screen, I can feel the boots of a great general on my feet. Having never written a philosophical treatise of this magnitude before, you will understand if I am a bit nervous. I have this image of General (brevet) Endgame before me. He is sitting in a rustic swivel chair in a library before a cluttered desk reminiscent of the 1820s. A tattered cardigan is draped over the back of the chair. A partially full ashtray sits precariously on a pile of papers. A gleaming new computer hums quietly to itself waiting to create a new document under the command of the man before it. Alternately, he sits and stares at a vexing TPG2 scenario until, inspired, a flurry of moves follow leaving him victorious. He scratches his head wondering how that happened, but shrugs and reports his results in his usual cryptic fashion.

One might wonder why this image appears in my mind. To quote a moderately great Southeast Texas philosopher, "Shit, I don’t know!" The reason behind the image is that I am a mental person. When not occupied with planning the overthrow of our local Earl, trying to explain the demand curve of personal computers to an unsympathetic professor, or helping my wife with her current project, my mind wanders. Occasionally it wanders in the direction of my friends that I have not and may never meet.

In spite of those images that have appeared on various internet servers, I have some specific images of those people that I know in mind. Are they accurate? No. But that doesn’t matter. I tend to imagine the people I know through their words, attitude, and style. This has no bearing on their physical appearance… or rather their physical appearance has no bearing on the personality that is expressed over the internet. We must add the fact that I am the one designing these images of my friends, I have my own preconceived notions and my own theories that inject themselves into my creations. My own ideas color the words that appear on my screen as your own ideas, memories, and knowledge color the words you read now. How do these words mesh into the composite you have created of "CaptainKev"?

I suspect that each of you has an image of me that has been crafted over the months. However, (unless you look carefully at the past Rambles page), the image you have in mind is not me. It is ‘CaptainKev’, a fictional person, which exists solely within the realm of The Perfect General II. This ‘CaptainKev’ is a fake, a pseudonym, a replica of only one aspect of me. However, it is the aspect that is most visible, most representative of this company and thus, the part of me that is best suited to dealing with the fellows of this company. What good would the paleontologist aspect of me be to this company? Not much I suspect. However, if you find an interesting fossil and need some help identifying it, my services are freely available. I suspect that they will not get much use however.

I know a little about several people’s lives outside of the TPG2 community. For others, I know nothing about them. Occasionally, I don’t even know their ‘real’ name. I have the name that represents that general within that person. That is all I really need. When I e-mail this to our peerless director of operations, I shall use his chosen moniker. Had I been making a routine inquiry into his health or the ubiquitous request for computer assistance, I would use his given moniker. Those that know me may realize that the nature of my message can generally be discovered by a perceptive individual reading the first line. When duty calls and the sound of artillery rumbles nearer, I call my companions, Rommel, Endgame, Pense, General Bobb, CoKE. We meet the Earl and victorious, we return to the local tavern and as cocktail hour approaches Jim gets his wine, Scot talks long into the night as only a student of history can, and Bob rumbles about various farm animals, Endgame (for he and CoKE have no other representations) lights an Old Gold and prepares to watch, CoKE sits quietly in the background occasionally speaking and sometimes reviewing a tactical problem even while discussion is under way.

When a single subject brings together such diversity, it is neither necessary nor perhaps desirable for each of us to present his full self to the others. As friends are wont to do however, we will abet and assist our fellows as we might in whatever happens to and with them. That is an aspect of ourselves over and above that which brought us together in the first place and that, which binds us together now.

Also, in writing this Even Further, I have discovered what makes treatises of this kind so difficult to read. All of the sentences have something that the ‘formal’ grammar setting in my word processor hates. My business communications professor would have a coronary reading this. However, this is not my business class, this is a philosophical discussion and as such, should contain lots of passive sentences, long sentences, obscure words, and esoteric meanings. I like writing like this, it gives me a break from that starchy business writing. Upon this discovery, I have found another division of self. This self, I think, is more appropriate to writing of TPG2, these compatriots, and these hallowed halls.

In two hundred years, when the hard drive that these pages rest on is recovered and some graduate sociology student has the information decoded and translated, I want him to feel the bond between us and understand that even the simplest of things can form heavy bonds. A single molecule of carbon can bond with four of its fellows and create the hardest natural substance in the universe. Likewise with us, a simple (some might even say primitive) game has given life to a community of diverse people that would otherwise have never met. Hopefully, this sociology student will be able to use these pages and discover that the human psyche is strong enough to be bonded with a variety of things which need not know of the others to remain strong and pure. Perhaps he will, as some history and anthropology students have done, form a bond with us that not only crosses space, but also time and yea, even the barrier of death. Perhaps he will download the latest batch of translations from his computer and read with interest wondering if Endgame will reappear, or wondering whether Pense and Ulla will tie the knot, perhaps CaptainKev will graduate and earn his stars. By the time he reads it, we will be long gone, events long decided, but that bond of camaraderie will allow him to feel a part of us as we feel a part of each other now. Only replies to his questions will be missing. It is somewhat sobering to consider that everything posted in this manner may well become permanent. As dairies are to Civil War generals, hard drives are to the modern generals. So, to that nameless student, and to each of you… Welcome.