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Actually if you think about it.. to have a tech to travel the vastness of space.. yeah they would be advanced.. why would an alien race bother comeing here.. where we still kill ourselves?
abit they could crash here.. and we study whats left.. sure..
I traved to a military base when i was young with my dad (he drove trucks and i went when him on the summer trips)
we stopped cuz he had a load of tank treds to diliver.. seems i had to stay out side and wait for him to get back. the sign my dad explained to me was.. the parrie dogs carred bubonic(spelling) plague .. heh kind of a nifty anit-break in method if you ask me..
anyways.. the guards wouldnt speak nothing to me.. and i said.. jeeze what ya got in there.. a ufo.. they then chuckled .. but it seemed a little weird to me.. still bothers me to this day..
thing is.. if the usa had the tech.. it would have gotten out even before now.. due to the spycraft the humans are soo good at.. so there would be a war over who got this tech.. maybe the other countries have gotten around to cutting a deal with the usa in which they dont use the tech.. they dont nuke us to oblivion.
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It means only one thing, and everything: Cut. Once committed to fight, Cut. Everything else is secondary. Cut. That is your duty, your purpose, your hunger. There is no rule more important, no commitment that overrides that one. Cut. The lines are a portrayal of the dance. Cut from the void, not from bewilderment. Cut the enemy as quickly and directly as possible. Cut with certainty. Cut decisively, resoultely. Cut into his strength. Flow through the gaps in his guard. Cut him. Cut him down utterly. Don't allow him a breath. Crush him. Cut him without mercy to the depth of his spirit. It is the balance to life: death. It is the dance with death. It is the law a war wizard lives by, or he dies.
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