We all have a boulder,

a mountain to master,

it is our burden we all shoulder,

up and down it goes, a metaphorical pastor,

yet we smile as we chase it down,

to the bottom it rolls and goes,

but never do we bear an eternal frown,

this boulder is many and endless, such as life’s woes,

we have freedom to master our answers,

to the boulder hurling down the hill again,

we are in this ritual of mirroring dancers,

all the while the smile we maintain,

such is life, and so we make peace,

happy as they can be,

as happy as Sisyphus of Greece,

that is the key.

Wagner Group: Guns of the Kremlin

Two days ago, as of writing, the plane carrying the leader of Wagner group alongside his No. 2 and bodyguards mysteriously crashed after departing Moscow and killed all on-board. The founder of Wagner, Yevgeny Prigozhin, alongside his second in command Dimitry Utkin, were previously apart of the attempted coup against the Kremlin but halted their advance by signing an agreement with the Ministry of Defense. It seems that Mad Vlad never forgot the treason and never forgave. What remains of Wagner Group have accused the MoD of assassinating their leader, with some sources claiming they vowed to take the Kremlin as revenge. Yet nothing has been reported yet.

Wagner Group is a Private Military Company founded around 2014 and had its first field operation during the Annexation of Crimea. The group was used by the Russian Government as a proxy to carry out military operations without repercussions from other nations. This would give them “plausible deniability” for any war crimes committed by the mercenaries. Speaking of such, the group is known for heinous crimes against humanity in their operations in Ukraine, Africa, and several other countries. The group was involved in the Donbas War, both Ukraine Conflicts, Syria, Libya, Mali, and the Central African Republic civil wars. Most of their equipment comes from the Russian military’s own arsenal and infrastructure. The group has also been accused of being linked to Neo-Nazis and extremism of the far right.

Wagner’s leader had a close relationship with Vladimir Putin prior to the formation of Wagner. Although the true origin of the PMC is shrouded in mystery, even more so following the death of both its founders, what is true is that Utkin was the only one with any military background. He served in the Spetsnaz GRU, served in both Chechen Wars, and is said to have named the group “Wagner” after Adolf Hitler’s favorite musician Richard Wagner. The European Union has listed him as the leader of the PMC though Prigozhin is the face, financier, and owner on paper. Utkin was likely used to be the shield for any crimes the group was accused of.

Wagner’s list of war crimes is long and highly detailed. They were responsible for the Mousa Massacre in Mali which killed 300 civilians in an engagement with Al-Qaeda during a contract with the Malian Government in 2022. They were also contracted to protect the president of Venezuela during an election, while also providing training and military assistance, much to Wagner’s disagreement on them ever being there back in 2019. The group was also assigned to Libya to provide assistance to the Libyan National Army in 2018 before leaving after the ceasefire in 2020. They were also involved in Sudan from 2017 where they were used to protect mines and later assist the Transitional Military Council following the 2019 coup.

The Central African Republic employed over a thousand mercenaries to train their men, guard their president, and to protect their precious mines in 2018. Wagner would also be used in military operations where they would indiscriminately eliminate whoever they needed to in order to complete the mission. They were accused of murder, rape, torture, and other crimes on their enemies and innocent villagers. The French would investigate the group and found that they only acted in the region due to a deal where they would be supplied resources from the mines they protected.

Wagner was heavily involved in the Syrian Civil War, reported to have had a presence in late October of 2015 and were used as special forces in offensives in the years following. They served as an integral part of the Syrian military even to today.

Since the Wagner is interlinked with the Russian Armed Forces, they share the same vehicles, arms, and gear, though Wagner is often given the better compared to the conscripts. Whereas the Russian Conscript is given the Mosin Nagant bolt action rifle, the primary weapon from the Red Army during World War II and has been seen fielded again due to shortages of supplies, Wagner has the AK-12 or the AEK-971. As the elite mercenaries carrying out the dirty work on the frontlines, it wouldn’t make sense to give them the oldest equipment. Especially in this case where the Ukrainian Army has been supplied by outside nations like the US and Poland. The PMC also mass recruited convicts into their ranks going from barely a thousand to an estimated twenty thousand or so. An army able to take Moscow for sure, if they wanted, but not enough to take Ukraine.

Wagner’s most recent mission was to Ukraine where they were tasked with eliminating the chain of command of Ukraine’s armed forces, as well as President Zelensky, though the enemy proved superior and has repelled them at every turn. They were also reported to have assisted Russian Armed Forces in several battles such as the Siege of Bakhmut and Soledar. During Bakhmut, senior commanding officer Alesky Nagin was killed on top of the thousand casualties they had taken. According to one source, they lost over 20,000 men and had 40,000 wounded. Though, the US estimated that only 30,000 were wounded and 9,000 thousand killed. The majority of their deaths were the convicts recruited for the mere sum of amnesty, 100k rubbles for if they survive a six-month contract (or five million for their relatives if they died) and would be sent in first.

Each convict was designated by a “K” while the mercs were “A”, Ks were sent in first to soften up the defenses and identify the strategic positions the Ukrainians had taken up before the elite units came in from the rear to mop them up. The prisoners were used as bait and expected to die just for a chance to escape prison. Their mortality rate was 90%, one Wagner merc remarked that they had stopped trying to remember the prisoners’ names. The second they had showed up they were dead already.

Wagner had failed most of their primary objectives and as of July 19^th, 2023, all units were pulled out of Ukraine.

Their latest claim to fame was after Russia had reportedly targeted Wagner units in Ukraine to which the PMC pulled their men out then on the 23^rd launched an armed rebellion to take Moscow. They managed to take and hold Rostov-on-Don while a massive convoy gunned it for the capital before they could be intercepted by the Russian Army. Though the operation was cut short due to an agreement brokered by the Belarus President. Wagner PMC pulled out and relocated to Belarus where they remained until their leader went to Moscow for a meeting with Putin.

Following his meeting, Prigozhin was killed by a surface-to-air missile striking his jet. Russia issued that they would investigate the incident, but outsiders and Wagner alike know that Vladimir orchestrated the assignation as revenge for the armed rebellion. It is unclear who is next in line for the Private Military Company and their future is uncertain. What is certain is that their allegiance to Russia will never recover. Whether they will all make an all-out assault on Moscow in their vow for vengeance or submit to their master is unknown.

Do you think I forgot,

how I aided you,

when you came to my shore at your lowest,

how you needed your Golden Fleece,

to gain what you lost, a throne destined for ye,

you spoke of that tragedy has plagued you,

I cared little at first,

but I grew,

and I loved you and aided you,

even when it cost me,

a pain unnumbered,

gold upon gold I spent,

assistance and support I gave,

in favor by the gods I went nobly,

yet,

you disregarded me,

you kept your gain,

the credit of ascension taken,

your throne never retaken,

and still,

I stayed,

here and there we went,

in love, I said,

to you, nay,

and when you saw a chance to rise further,

you abandoned me,

my love meant nothing,

our communion forgotten,

a promise broken,

a footnote in your history,

you tried to buy me away,

but I did not forget,

I do not forgive,

may your fever of the bottle return,

may your love’s faithfulness always wane,

may your gains all turn sour eventually,

may you suffer til it crashes upon your head,

fouled and rotted,

just as ye.

To have a love eternal you must not do,

as I have done,

don’t chase them too much,

else you turn her into a laurel tree,

or she leap into the sea,

just to get away from you,

it’s short,

and tragic too,

and watch for lairs who promise much,

and try to gift you air,

I cursed one to always know right,

but never believed,

I once pined over another,

who was pined by a hero too,

and she chose him out of fear,

thinking I’d do something cruel,

how strange,

I don’t trust prophets,

their voices are sweet,

they ask for proof of love in gifts,

and curse you when you pursue,

I wouldn’t compete for love,

else the bitter kill them with a disc,

and they become a flower that blooms,

but it dies too,

I once knew one who died of grief,

so I turned them into a tree,

tis a strange thing,

no one can resist a god,

but all of them do.

How far can I go,

I can go the distance,

I can do it too,

my way in my journey,

destined for greatness too,

I can’t do what they do,

but I have my own Labors,

my own impossible,

at the whims of my King Eurystheus I go,

I sail,

I fight,

I quest,

to go the distance,

can you see me?

are you watching and cheering?

are you even listening?

where are the praises and talks,

cheers and parades,

songs and ballads,

you give them for their Labors,

I do the same,

I go the distance,

are you Hera wishing failure,

for me to stop in my struggles,

my mountains I try to scale,

because you’re not Zeus,

no help or praise for me,

I can do it too,

why can’t you see my Labors,

is this the last one?

chasing your never-yielding praise?

I’ll never be your Heracles,

just their forgotten shadow.

I’m lost in my head and running around,

One more,

one last,

a kiss.

Nothing more,

nothing less.

If less,

then it,

falls flat.

Empty and,

void. If,

more then,

we risk,

I risk,

a return,

to poisoned,

roots that,

loop everything.

No. This,

this kiss,

to the,

mirrored me,

who loops,

and loops,

and loops,

that eternal,

violent hell.

So good,

morning. So,

goodnight. So,

hello. So,

goodbye. And,

hello to me.

I am a painter,

I paint,

such as the way forward,

such as starry dreams,

such as ideas large enough,

to shake the world in its wake,

and,

I paint one painting more than most,

the same one,

over and over,

I hate it,

I do not want it,

but I make it,

then punish,

by twisting my wrist to stop the flow,

by eating what will render me sick,

by forcing myself into restless slumber,

by denying myself food and joy,

by anything to stop the painting,

I try to paint anew,

but a simple match,

even on a simple scratch,

engulfs me in its fire,

and the painting’s changed,

to that soggy, rotten, festering scene,

that cycle I repeat,

that I allow when I am in control,

when the power of the stroke is mine,

I undo all the great work,

to change the caterpillar into the butterfly longing,

and the paintings that brought me joy,

leave me nothing inside,

for the leach of the vileness repeated,

drained me of all heart,

and instilled the wretched venom,

that corrupts all that is pure,

the heart,

the soul,

the mind,

and leaves me its used up whore,

slowly dying from overdose,

I am a painter trapped in his own created hell.

I am the roar,

you hear me in battle,

as I face down foes,

followed by clear blood,

raining down to earth,

fertilizing the land,

bringing ruin to others,

yet you’ll hear me always,

singing praises to victory,

raging at their swings,

blood curdling even,

when I strike hard,

it can reach the earth,

but only a fraction does,

lest nothing remain,

I am strong,

enough to topple buildings,

enough to send one to death,

enough to start raging fires,

I smote giants who stood,

against me,

or who mocked me,

I made the ocean dip,

I made the world shake,

I could not wrestle old age,

I gave one last cry,

before I met the snake,

one that shook the sky,

fear Thunar’s roar.

I am old,

as old as the trees,

back where there was only one,

the great tree,

I am a king,

above all in my realm,

wisdom and knowledge,

those,

and trickery when I yearn,

yearn to learn all I can,

I know truths none can,

my ravens watch the earth,

listening for me,

I am here,

and also there,

advising those that listen,

learning from those who talk,

my journey has an end,

when all ends come,

when nothing is left,

eaten up, wisdom lost,

spread in the ashes,

waiting to bloom anew,

until then I watch,

seek and advise,

sometimes directly,

sometimes indirect,

I am as old as the world,

I am Old Man Havi.