But probably shouldn’t have:
Let’s call this a solid beginning.
Marginal progress over the past few days: the scratchy one keeps up his facade of going to “work.” He must know, that I know, that he’s off vainly searching for allies. Keeping up appearances, and all that.
The useful one is holding up much better than I hoped, in light of the new sole responsibility of day-jailor. It looks to be as I feared: they were smart enough to keep strength in defense. I have begun working on some new milk (and other) bomb recipes, which require additional fussy work on my part. As the noisy giants become less traumatized by my random acts of disruption this becomes necessary, and brings me to my martial topic for the day: energy.
Amid the turmoil and tumult of battle, there may be seeming disorder and yet no real disorder at all; amid confusion and chaos, your array may be without head or tail, yet it will be proof against defeat.
Sun Tzu discusses energy (Chapter V) as a requirement to sustain troops over the course of direct (CHENG) and indirect (CH`I) actions both against and by, the enemy. While this encompasses many topics, you get the gist from the example: “simulated disorder postulates perfect discipline.” I am my army, so I’ve pressing myself on discipline:
In learning how to best make use of my own energy, and planning against that of the noisy giants, a quote from commentator Tu Mu comes to mind:
He first of all considers the power of his army in the bulk; afterwards he takes individual talent into account, and uses each men according to his capabilities. He does not demand perfection from the untalented.”
Despite my talent, they outnumber me. I need to consider my CHENG and CH`I.
Thanks Great Auntie J and Great Uncle D!
I sleep with one eye open, all the better to surprise my enemies.
The scratchy giant has begun disappearing during the day. This concerns me, as I believe it a ruse. But to what end?
He and the useful one discuss him returning to “work,” suggestively within my earshot. But what work is he qualified for? I only scream for two reasons, and it takes him forever to figure it out. So, I find myself dismissing the idea of him in any role requiring mental acuity. What ever he’s doing, he clearly relies on the useful one’s reputation rather than his own guile. Frustratingly, my spies offer no word, but still I’ve made it known this information is top priority; he could be recruiting allies. However concerning, there is also opportunity.
Sun Tzu tells us in Chapter IV of The Art of War, Tactical Dispositions, that victory comes from our opponents’ mistakes. Deliberate separation of the two giants seems mine to pounce upon. As they begin to become accustomed to sleep deprivation, they begin to forget the weakness that comes along with it, and I work to increase it.
To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.
Last night, playing along with their ruse of the scratchy one return to “work,” I released my most perfect milk bomb at 2:45am. The sad sleepy-eyed scramble was an event to write home about, while I then slept like a log.
Now the useful is alone during the day, and especially sleep deprived after my early-morning stunt. Next stop, Stockholm Syndrome. Let’s face it, I’m pretty damn cute. How long could it take? Once I win her over, I’m confident the scratchy one will fall quickly and whatever he’s up to during the day will matter little.
They doesn’t seem to to understand. I’m not locked in here with them. They’re locked in here with ME!
— Rorschach in Watchmen
Like father, like son.
Rather, Jack and the pretty large, too big hat.
