There has been an emotional process to this. I have felt, at different times, shock, anger, sorrow, denial, grief, and outrage. I rarely stay on one emotion for long.
But the interesting thing is this: because the betrayal was so complete - so thorough - it has released me from all obligation. And this is the emotion that has come to dominate: relief and release.
Any obligation or need I felt to protect and help Sjors, I no longer feel. I kept my side of the promise - I was the stand for him. I fought for him and hurt for him and did every last thing that I could. In the end, he denied everything. And then he sold me out. My obligation to him is finished.
Any obligation I felt to assist the Dutch with their missions, I no longer feel (How's that assessment of African Winds going, by-the-way? The irony is profound. You do realize I was helping you out on something that mattered a lot to your leadership. Right? And I was doing it because I cared and genuinely wanted to help. Now...the assessment plan is: what, exactly? Question for you: do they make you feel like ass-clowns behind closed doors? Did you get spanked? God, I hope so!)
Any obligation or need I felt to protect the Command and their programs, I no longer feel. I can take my programs and ideas and the efforts I gave to them, and keep them here with me. I don't have to spend out my life and energy to fuel their machine.
As the people here drag their feet, I feel less and less obligation to them, as well. I am increasingly suspicious that they are looking for ways to get rid of me without lasting legal impact. I had intended to direct my resources to helping them out of their financial nightmare and gin up business for them. But I find myself released from my obligation to them, as well. If, at the end of the day, they don't have the courage to do the right thing, why the hell would I want to do anything for them?
In a sense, I am released to leave all this bullshit behind me. I don't ever have to look back.
So, I bought a bike. I work on my ideas. I write papers and create plans to build real capability in Africa.
And, to the douche-bags at MIVD: I hope you get body lice and tooth decay. May your body odor retain the stink of pickled herring, making you repugnant to your wives who subsequently look for younger men to cuckold you. May your hemorrhoids burn and your varicose veins itch. May you have uncontrollable flatulence that causes you painful embarrassment in important meetings. May you become lactose intolerant so that you can't eat the fantastic Dutch cheese that I love. May you become myopic and knock-kneed. May you live ordinary, boring, unremarkable, intolerably bureaucratic nightmares till the end of your days. May you have geriatric chicken-pox and hair-loss and halitosis. May your metabolisms slow to the pace of a snail. May you have bizarre body hair and become fat and be unable to maintain an erection. I release you to your own incompetence, small-mindedness, short-sightedness, and boorish stupidity.
Did I say "release"? What I meant was: you will no longer bother me. But I think I will continue to irritate you for a very long time.
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