I want this on a t-shirt…
…by suspending tuition assistance!
Wow. The only reason I feel ‘entitled’ is because it was part of my contract. Of course the gov’t is only a proponent of the sanctity of the contract when it is convenient.
Well I guess that is the least we should expect…after all the official narrative is that we are all mentally damaged rapists.
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So vampires cannot be seen in a mirror, right?
This being the case, can they use those automatic faucets and hand dryers? How would that work/not work?
Of course, fuck it, they aren’t real…
board study? yep.
missions daily? yep.
training schedule? yep.
patient care? yep.
dealing with ‘stuff’ while thousands of miles from family? yep.
…so please pardon the breaks in between posts, o loved ones!
Below are April and the kids at the Nutcracker in Seattle, and some motivational posters (quite zef!) that they made.
All this, to show how neat and nifty my family is.
Picture: Is this shub-niggurath oozing ‘shellac/confectioner’s glaze’? Probably!
Even after eating ‘this way’ for so long, some things slip by. I found out today that my favorite gum, which has 100mg of caffeine per piece in it and is in the new Army MRE’s; is coated with confectioner’s glaze.
See, food companies have to use ‘layers of abstraction’ to disguise food products that may otherwise seem unappealing.
Confectioner’s glaze is a derived from or is type of shellac. Shellac will often be described as a resinous coating found on certain trees in asia. If you keep looking, and maybe stumble across a link or article geared towards food chemists or professional cooks then you find out the truth:
that shit is beetle juice!
It is what the female lac beetle secrets when it metabolizes tree sap.
So…yeah. Gross. I don’t eat honey either. I think that insects are proof that:
A- There is a god.
B- He hates us.
Bugs…I don’t want to touch them or see them, much less eat something secreted from their bodies!
Damnit. No more caffeine gum for me.
Time to go through my super secret sneaky snack stash again to check the labels!
Can you imagine a more immediate harm?
Than the one you bear me
from you to tower, tower to sattelite,
sattelite to tower to me to an
ageless pain that burrows
and gnaws at the strange sinews
of my being!
enable my rationalizations:
push me further until I stumble
across a careless misnthrope
then give vent to evil impulse
and exorcise your hateful visage
I am the king of many things.
A few of them, I know, are disloyal for fear.
This is true!
…and this is true:
everyman is a son-of-a-bitch,
every eye is dry at the end
and turned inward.
Light will not reach us!
I am alone in the company of madmen
a cosmos-complete in each skull
with a headache like a god’s.
I borrow a prism of incomplete thought
to bend! To change! To make you shudder!
If I feel it, it is true.
I collapse the wave-function;
and I know you are false;
I am the king of many things,
though I no longer rule you.
I woke up to a false alarm
and headache, red-eyes rolling,
though you sang me to sleep
with stuttering breath and whisper,
a touch of tongue and light
mimic of wind and moon
no less ephemeral than your transient nature
likewise, gone with the thoughts
that bring you to me
a giant in my world-
sustain the lie
I’ll not be consigned
to ignore unpleasant truth
settle-down to drinkful oblivion
when you have so much to give me!
magnum opus indeed
more like a post-it note
scribbled with tense disagrement
a prayer for the dinner table
take me quickly,
or take me with flood
but not with words or ideas
that show me the sickness of my own heart
because I am no servant
of even my own interests
and have grown weak, brittle
with amusement and lust
my sugar-spun bones
support a falsehood of form
and movement comes,
when it does,
with a vertigo doze
if I could allow my fall I could rest
an earth bed no more harsh than ‘home’
take me for good,
or spear me with cruelty
and still, eventually
speak the number of my sin
my debt to you is the least of it-
is my failed dream, my deepest love,
my ersatz remorse, and my regret in hand
I can only show you the phantom actions
animated by thoughts
and named by so many gorgeous words
that you never believed anyhow
Sort of a cross between a blog and a twitter feed…sounds like a nightmare? Well, it is kinda neat, I think:
By Dennis Prager
Last week, the Washington Post published an opinion piece by a Marine captain titled, “I Killed People in Afghanistan. Was I Right or Wrong?”
The column by Timothy Kudo, who is now a graduate student at New York University, is a fine example of the moral confusion leftism has wrought over the last half century. Captain Kudo’s moral confusion may predate his graduate studies, but if so, it has surely been reinforced and strengthened at NYU.
The essence of Mr. Kudo’s piece is that before he served in Afghanistan he was ethically unprepared for killing, that killing is always wrong, and that war is therefore always wrong.
–”I held two seemingly contradictory beliefs: Killing is always wrong, but in war, it is necessary. How could something be both immoral and necessary?”
The statement, “killing is always wrong,” is the core of the captain’s moral confusion.
Where did he learn such nonsense? He had to learn it because it is not intuitive. Every child instinctively understands that it is right to kill in self-defense; every decent human being knows it was right to kill Nazis during World War II; and just about everyone understands that if Hitler, Stalin and Mao had been killed early enough, about one hundred million innocent lives would have been saved.
How is it possible that a Marine captain and graduate student does not know these things? How can he make a statement that is not only morally foolish but actually immoral?
The overwhelmingly likely answer is that Captain Kudo is a product of the dominant religion of our time, leftism. And one important feature of the left’s moral relativism and moral confusion is a strong pacifistic strain.
–”Many veterans are unable to reconcile such actions in war with the biblical commandment ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ When they come home from an environment where killing is not only accepted but is a metric of success, the transition to one where killing is wrong can be incomprehensible.”
I give Captain Kudo the benefit of the doubt that he does not know that the commandment in its original Hebrew reads, “Thou shalt not murder,” not “Thou shalt not kill.” The King James translators did an awe inspiring job in translating the Bible. To this day, no other English translation comes close to conveying the majesty of the biblical prose. But the Hebrew is clear: “Lo tirtzach” means “Do not murder.” Hebrew, like English, has two primary words for homicide — “murder” and “kill.”
Murder is immoral or illegal killing.
Killing, on the other hand, can be, and often is, both moral and legal.
In order to ensure that no more Marines share the captain’s moral confusion, the Marine Corps should explain to all those who enlist that the Bible only prohibits murder, not killing. It should further explain that killing murderers — such as the Nazis and Japanese fascists in World War II and the Taliban today — is not only not morally problematic, it is the apotheosis of a moral good. Refusing to kill them means allowing them to murder.
–”This incongruity can have devastating effects. After more than 10 years of war, the military lost more active-duty members last year to suicide than to enemy fire.”
As we have seen, there is no “incongruity” here. And if so many members of the American military believe that it is so “incongruous” to kill the moral monsters of the Taliban — the people who throw lye in the faces of girls who attend school (and shoot them in the head if they’re outspoken about the right of girls to an education), who murder medical volunteers who give polio shots to Afghan children and who stone women charged with “dishonoring” their families — that they are committing suicide in unprecedented numbers, we have a real moral crisis in our military.
–”To properly wage war, you have to recalibrate your moral compass. Once you return from the battlefield, it is difficult or impossible to repair it.”
You only “have to recalibrate your moral compass” if you enter the military with a broken moral compass — one that neither understands the difference between murder and killing, nor how evil the Taliban is.
–”War makes us killers. We must confront this horror directly if we’re to be honest about the true costs of war.”
Other than the author, are there many Americans who enter the military in time of war without confronting the fact that they are likely to kill? Furthermore, it is not “war” that makes us killers; it is the Taliban. We kill them in order to protect Afghans from Taliban atrocities, and to protect America from another 9/11.
–”I want to believe that killing, even in war, is wrong.”
Why would anyone want to believe that? Were the soldiers who liberated Nazi death camps “wrong?”
“The immorality of war is not a wound we can ignore.”
With all respect, I would rewrite this sentence to read: “The moral confusion of a Marine captain is not a wound we can ignore.”
Every American is deeply grateful to Captain Kudo for his service on behalf of his country, and on behalf of elementary human rights in Afghanistan. I have to wonder, however, why, given his belief that killing is always wrong, Timothy Kudo ever enlisted in the Marines.
On the other hand, he will fit in perfectly at NYU.
Can’t get to the hospital for meds.
Can’t get meds for my guys.
Can’t get to JAG for a power of attorney to keep my school from raping me academically.
Can’t move outside the wire without 3 vehicles with a minimum of 3 pax per and at least 2 crew-served weapons…of course, should we come under attack, those crew served weapons cannot be used against human targets lest we violate GenCon…those big guns are for show!
Here is an idea…the Bulgarians are here with us, as are the Lithuanians, Dutch, Aussies, Brits…and they give less than half a fuck about bad press and RoE (so it seems)! So, when US forces come under fire, we should hole-up in our vehicles, and call in a report to the FOB and have the Bulgarians come fuck up the bad guys! Hell, they even still wear uniforms reminiscent of those the Soviets wore here in the 80′s…
God bless NATO.
On the lighter side, I saw a Portugese pilot yesterday. It gave me a warm-fuzzy.
Now I am going to go puke, since I took my Doxycycline too damn early.
I love you all.
I wish I had brought my little Menorah…I would like to light the candles on Erev Shabbat. It is inteersting to me how far east we are. I noticed the Muslims here praying facing west, and it hit me that we are where we are.
Just like the threat last deployment in Iraq, the primary one here seems depressingly random and impossible to detect ahead of time. I am glad that the weapons posture they allow us is suitable…i.e. magazine IN the weapon, ready to go. That is an improvement from Basra where we were ‘green’ and just had rounds available.
We were at an outpost yesterday that was primarily ANA. Part of the wall was mud, and about 20 feet tall. It was over 500 years old, but had been largely destroyed by fighting. Sad, as what would have been pretty neat looking, with the mountains in the background, was not patched up with sandbags, concertina wire, and other misc. garbage to keep it standing…where is UNESCO when you need them?!
The Aussies here are badasses…for the record. We ate dinner the other night with a Australian major, and I think I was the only one who could understand him. He was hilarious, gregarious, and called me ‘mate’ once or twice. I chalk up being called ‘mate’ as one of my accomplishments here! I also caught part of a rugby match on the telly between the All Blacks (new zeeland) and someone else…couldn’t decipher it. Fun anyhow.
I am such an incorrigible anglophone/anglophile!
I hate thanksgiving, though here it took on significance as I saw Kenyans, Ugandans, Aussies, Bulgarians, Brits, Romanians, civilians, and of course US soldiers all taking part. It was touching…and American holiday that translates well to all who are here.
I miss Miles, Lula, Riah, Zay, and of course April (my darlin’ Clementine!); but I can hope that the distance makes their hearts grow a bit more fond of their difficult, irritable, strange dad. I have become my dad! I have been told so, and I take it as a compliment. I miss the man quite a bit, and I actually had this fantasy that he got a job as a civilian contractor and came over here to work and we were able to eat dinner together every day. That would be great.
Anyhow, time to go…
Mom, April, IF you guys are actually reading this, please comment so I know. This is one of the easier ways to dialogue with you. Know that I love you greatly, and will take this time away to work on being a better husband/son/father/dude.
Happy thanksgiving, and Shabbat Shalom.
Chazak, chazak; venit chazak!
Candidates for consideration:
‘You can’t slay my commodo dragon!’
‘Don’t tweak my scrot’!’
‘Scrod!’ (Borrowed from the cartoon ‘Mutant League’)
Which one does Miles like the best? Let me know!
This is, bar none, the filthiest place I have ever been.
For all the talk of pride and the noble people who inhabit this place, it is certainly not manifest in the appearance of their homes and neighborhoods.
I am sure those of a liberal mindset would chalk this up to repression and hopelessness as part of the legacy of colonialism and first-world expeditionary fervor…but whatever. When the Chinese invade ala Red Dawn, I will still pick the trash up from my yard and maintain my home. Poor doesn’t have to mean dirty. Anyhow, the men here are by and large idle. That may not be their fault, but it does seem to be a feature of Arab culture as well. The women seem to do the majority of the work.
The kids here are adorable. It is heartbreaking for me to see them waiving by the side of the road, and I cannot help them, give them anything, etc. All they see is a convoy going by and we get no chance to win their hearts and minds by simply treating them with the love and kindness that kids need. It does serve to make me appreciate my kids and home even more…
…which is the point of today, Thanksgiving.
I am grateful for you April, and for the four wonderful little monkeys you brought into the world with me. All I can ask for is to come home to you, and to have you safe and content while I am away. There doesn’t seem to me to be any truly higher aspiration than that.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
…because of all the characters in the real and fictional world, Lula pics River Song from Dr. Who to be for Halloween!
…because April never uses her period as an excuse for anything…
…because Riah recognizes a reference to the movie ‘The Golden Child’ in a rap song without anyone else catching it…
…because Zay is not satisfied to write about a subject until he has asked every goddamned question he can think of about it…
…because Miles knows more about Cthulhu and ghouls than the president…
…because Miles wants to tell me the title of a song called ‘Rich Bitch’, so he makes quotation marks with his fingers and says “Reech Beech“…
…because Dexter has published two books and is already working on a third…
…because Mariah already has a sense of propriety and decorum that eclipses that of nearly every adult I know…
…because Lula can actually pick up April!
…because April manages to find something about me worthwhile and tolerates all the rest…but is not too much of a saint to also be gorgeous and sexy!
A couple of days ago, the blog Conservative Heritage Times kindly asked me for whom I was voting and requested that I justify my choice in writing. This inspired me to pen the following (which is a lightly edited version of what appeared at the CHT website.)
I won’t vote. Indeed, I can’t think of any good reason for someone to drag his bones to a polling station and participate in the democratic process.
One major reason for this is that I oppose the democratic process in general. Indeed, I can’t imagine a worse mechanism for decision-making than giving equal weight to the passing opinions of every featherless biped with a pulse, from the mentally retarded to the devotees of Jay-Z or Lady Gaga to Third World immigrants to that small fraction of the population actually worthy of being entrusted with the general welfare.
The politicians are themselves walking, talking arguments for the system’s destruction. The personality type that flourishes in democracy—the narcissist sociopath—was once cast to the margins of society; for at least the past century, we have allowed these people to govern!
Then there’s the rhetoric used by the political critters, rhetoric which seems to have genuine appeal to Americans. On the one hand, the politician must bring everything down to the lowest possible level, so as to be understood by the types of men who receive most of their sustenance from Dunkin Donuts. On the other hand, he must claim that America is the most awesome and important political entity ever—and that the American people (or whoever happens to reside in the U.S confines at the time) are uniformly wise, brave, selfless, and entrepreneurial. The civic culture is, essentially, dumbed-down delusional arrogance. And I suspect will be hearing this stuff long after it’s clear to everyone with brains that the U.S.A. is barely distinguishable from a Banana Republic.
Representative democracy has always been about population control, not self-governance. The American system has achieved population control through government-sponsored degeneration.
Of course, one could say that I’m simply being a Romantic reactionary, and that I should access voting in the terms of the real world, and not vis-a-vis some idealized one. But even if we accept America as it as, voting seems to me entirely useless.
Not much has actually changed since 2008: Obama has wound down some stupid wars, but then wound up some stupid new ones. Domestically speaking, while the Tea Party rants about “socialism,” Obama’s policies are truly mere variants on the kinds of things Republicans love and support.
From a Leninist, revolutionary perspective—”the worse, the better”—one could make equally valid arguments for each candidate. Obama, as a mulatto, looks like his policies; he gives White Americans a visual representation of their dispossession. That’s a good thing. Romney, on the other hand, gives the people a false sense of WASP continuity. He is also more likely to join Israel in attacking Iran, launching another trillion-dollar war, or even a global conflict. Thus, the governor might be better positioned to bring about the final collapse of the American empire and the global dollar system that underpins it.
But then, both Romney and Obama are “worse-is-better” in that they are but two aspects of the same system—which itself is destructive and self-destructive.
Instead of arm-chair speculation about which candidate is more likely to bring on a major crisis, we should begin finding solutions outside democracy and the two parties. The first step in this process is to actively disengage from this equally evil and stupid political system.
Now the only problem is I don’t know who to vote for in the House of Reprazentin’!