The Idiot's Guide to Military Intervention

I am an avid gardener. I must have a lush garden full of thriving flowers. That is not a luxury, but a need. I am not looking for any alternative hobby; this is my passion, and there is not much I can do to change it. The other members of my household enjoy it, and support my hobby.

Now, I have a few neighbors in a different development further away whose soil quality is better than most. I actually have the same soil, but in much lesser quantities; I have decided to keep them in storage for a time when I really need them. I made a deal with those neighbors to buy some of their soil, and they were happy to engage in this mutually beneficial deal. You see, they have some animals in the area that have a tendency to dig up their soil and create a mess, but they do not have the means to protect the land. I do. I have some technology that assists in keeping those critters away. I sell my technology to those who need the protection. I have some other neighbors in my own development who cheered me on in my efforts to create a better community for all, especially since they also benefitted from my actions.

There are a few others in that other development with the same soil, but after some exchanges, I figured out that they were not interested in dealing with me. However, I wanted that soil. Badly. My garden must thrive. I needed that soil. So, I talked with a few of their nearby neighbors and implanted in their heads what a nasty personality some of their neighbors have, and that it is not good for the health of the neighborhood. They agreed, and many a times they would get into arguments with those neighbors. I also made it clear that I would help them in case there is a need to knock some sense into these neighbors with good soil and bad attitude. If I may say so, for full disclosure, the members of the households of these bad neighbors do not necessarily think they are bad people, but I managed to incentivize some of them to see how they were not getting the best treatment in their own homes. And, to my utter delight, there were rumblings inside their homes which made it difficult to maintain a peaceful atmosphere. I was experiencing schadenfreude.

At one point, the rebels inside those homes wanted to take over, and I was tickled pink to help. I employed a few members of my own household to go in and help, and to wreak havoc. They did a fine job. They literally took over. Armed with automatic weapons, they managed to go inside their homes and break most of their stuff, and in the process, they also killed the fathers, leaving it wide open for the rebel sons to take over. I promised the sons that I would help rebuild their homes, and contracted some of my household members to do exactly that. My household members took the money, and bought some expensive gifts for their own enjoyment, and did not do much in the way of rebuilding those shattered and broken homes. Helpless and lost, some of those people sought to meet their daily needs, including food, in homeless shelters, and some even came to me to seek jobs they would do in my garden in exchange for food and clothing. I welcomed them with open arms, knowing fully well that I would have permanent workers with very little chance of bettering their lives, like going to college and experiencing upward mobility; something they could have had in their own homes. I made all of them live in the garden shed; least I could do. They have a roof over their heads, food in their stomachs, and clothing on their backs.

Unfortunately, some of my household members came back with their conscience gnawing at their minds, and suffered from some psychological regrets, while some others were injured while trying to break things in the other homes. I didn’t care much for these members; I had my soil. I had control over the rich soil that once belonged to those nasty neighbors.

I didn’t like the idea that some other neighbors in the other development went into the homes that were broken and were actually providing the help to rebuild the broken infrastructure. How does that make anything better? I hated those helping hands neighbors, and I made it known among my friendly neighbors that we all need to band against those seeking to influence the downtrodden. My friendly neighbors, thankfully, were still on my side.

In some of the broken homes, the people threw out my household members, asking them never to come back, and took charge of rebuilding on their own. I bet they are going to make the women do all the dirty work. Good luck to them. I did offer the women of those households to come and live with us and be happy working as a menial in my household. And yes, some of those women saw the light. Hah!

Some of the rebels were unhappy at the outcome, became angry and promised revenge, prompting me to put up new rules and safety measures for my own household. I would need to be extra careful of who I invite for a holiday gathering dinner. My friendly neighbors did the same.

In my own home, I have a few who were happy at all I accomplished and support me without reservation, few others who are unhappy, few who are physically and mentally unwell, and some new workers for my garden. But, after all is said and done, I have good soil for my garden!

I am a bit unhappy, though, and a bit wary. Some of my own household members, unknown to me, planted some artificial flowers in the garden, and these, as you know, don’t require any soil for sustenance. As good looking as these artificial flowers are (and maintenance-free to boot), I believe in traditional methods and would rather focus on getting good soil.