Who Will Save The Sane?

We learned to run at the speed of light,
and to fall down from any height
It's true, but just remember that
What we do is what you just can't do
- Lene Nystrom, Cartoon Heroes


Today is Saturday, also the end of this particular month of August. There will never be another August of 2010, so I guess it was a good one. Strange, and perhaps a little morbid, to think we basically go forwards to a known destination- the grave. We just don't know how far ahead the road extends. But then again, there's a higher purpose, I've become convinced. No one's presence here is an accident- how could it be, when everything serves a purpose? Then again, where does this all put free will? Who knows? That way, I think, lies madness, as does the opposite- everything I could possibly do is already scripted, so what does it matter?
Perhaps we don't see everything at once so we can't just jump to the ending.
At any rate, it's another day here in Oklahoma- the temperature has dropped considerably, leading me to think perhaps fall comes early here in the South. It could be that all these weather changes are just flat out messing up my old salty New England frame, as well.
Yesterday was an interesting day- sitting up in my room, writing (nothing odd about that) when a bolt from the blue came down to me in the form of a text message from my younger sister. She paid me perhaps the greatest compliment she could have, though perhaps without realizing it. She told me she was proud of her brother. I know, being an older brother means you're supposed to be a role model and all that, but to be honest, she always had herself more squared away than I could ever have dreamed of. She's a successful attorney- I'm a truck driver, recovering alcoholic, and in the Army. True, that's nothing to sneeze at either, and I'm proud of my accomplishments, but I always thought she was more than a couple steps ahead of me, and has consistently been someone I've admired and looked up to. Well, I suppose ultimately it's where you end up, and how you get there, not where you start from. As a platoon mate once told me, the only thing that quits is your mind- the world doesn't change, and your body will go as far as you push it. I've found this to be true, there are two states of mortal conditions- moving and dead.
Though I admit, things weren't always this way, or this easy. Actually, they're not that easy now- there's always that little voice in your head that tells you to quit, that it doesn't matter, you can quit. But as long as your mortal frame is pulling breath, you can keep going, I've found. The real trick is to make sure you're going in the right direction, which is not easy. Good thing I studied land navigation.

Calling Dr. Jones

Guilty as charged- I listened to this bizarre little piece of bubblegum from the same artists who graced the world with "Barbie Girl". It is a catchy song though, and she is kind of cute!
But at any rate, it kind of reminds me of my situation- being a near-superhuman adventurer, and all that good stuff. Okay, maybe not that part. But being apart from the person you love, and going through all kinds of unforeseeable circumstances to get back home. Actually, there are spiders about that big down here, too. We saw one the other day, while out on a chow run. It was in the grass, and apparently is called a grass spider. They are huge, and apparently live (and presumably hunt) on the ground. Interestingly enough, the more poisonous spiders are generally smaller than that. I wonder what they eat- mice?

At any rate, there's just about 20 days until d-day. My ex has that length of time to respond or counter the divorce settlement, which basically says we have no common property, joint custody and nothing else to say to each other. I can't help but take a guilty pleasure in her reaction to receiving the not-so-good news- "It took me three days to read them, as I was furious". Revenge is indeed a dish best served cold, and in small quantities. As I grow older, the number of people whose opinion of me remains pretty steady- exes are not included in that number. I have the mental wherewithal to make my own judgement calls on this one, I think. But at the same time, I feel a tremendous weight off my shoulders- and I don't even want to think in these terms, but looking back on a successful life, I can say, I won. Of course, there are more important things in this world than mere vengeance, however. Like the future, and whatever strange new adventures it may show. I'll face it with both eyes open, and see where this road next turns.

La Fin Du Monde

Today I went to the Comanche County Courthouse yet again, to file (for the last time) my paperwork. This time around was the summons, along with the notice of receipt by the ex. True, she's technically not the ex-yet. But all that will soon change- I saw to that myself. Now, I could sit here typing and pour out all the venom and anger I feel, but that would make for pretty dull reading. I'm guessing deep down she knows that I am now calling the shots- sorry, but I see no alternative. Too long has she been a part of my life. I could call her pathetic, and that would be accurate. But I won't, as I just want to never talk to her again.
Again being the operative word here, as I made the mistake of answering one of her calls yesterday. It was about one of our kids, and the accompanying drama that is inevitably my ex wife. And of course, how everything from original sin on down is my fault. Good thing this conversation was not in person, as I would have been tempted to throttle her on the spot. I recalled one of the better definitions of diplomacy I've heard, however- saying 'nice doggie' until you can find a sufficiently large rock.
And so it went- finally, I got off the phone, then got right back on with a friend, as I felt like I needed to get some perspective on the situation. I hate to say it, but I think she's mad that my life has gone on, and successfully, while she remains in the same place. I just needed the right impetus to change my situation. Sadly, she's still under the impression that I can be ordered around by her- an unfortunate and perhaps unkind awakening is due, although I'll admit I did little to discourage this by listening rather than talking, sorry to say. Well, it'll all no doubt come out in the wash. Regardless, I will let actions rather than words speak at this point.
I decided, out of curiosity, to do a Tarot reading for her, just to see what was shaking in that corner of the universe. The results were not exactly surprising- basically, the only thing standing in her way is herself, though she dug herself in pretty deep there, and of course the only person to free her is herself. It's no concern of mine, however. In fact, I'd rather just call it quits and get on with my life, which looks pretty decent from my own perspective.

I Will Break You

Well, the end is almost here- something I should have done a long time ago. Yes, it's been three weeks without a shower, surprised no one noticed sooner... okay, I'll be serious. I now have everything I need to file for divorce in the state of Oklahoma. I have just received the notice that my ex has received her summons, and have filed the paperwork. She now has 20 days from that date to respond. Will she? Perhaps. I honestly don't know, nor (to be honest) do I care.
I could tell you how conflicted I feel, and maybe even try to feel better saying it had to happen. Both those statements would be true, but I don't really need to feel better. Actually, what I think I need is a good nights' sleep. Tomorrow represents the culmination of insanity, as the battery we were hauling chow for decided to stay out in the field another day. What, do they have kegs and a bonfire out there? Well, whatever the reason, we get tapped (again) to supply them. Guess that's why we're a support company.
At any rate, I'm one or two steps away from being single again. Well, not really, but you know what I mean. Ending one chapter in my life and beginning another- this time for the better, and in some sense I wonder what the ex is thinking. Not that it matters- this, I guess, is the part of the adventure they don't tell you about- there isn't really an end, just a continuation.

Waiting for The Rain

I said 'hey, listen to me

Stay sane inside insanity

But he locked the door and threw away the key!'"

-Little Nell, The Rocky Horror Picture Show

I wanna bowl with

The ganstas, but oh well I'm just too white and nerdy

-Weird Al Yankovic, White and Nerdy

Today was a good day, as far as injuries were concerned. I had to check out a small track vehicle, something akin to an M113, though I'm not positive what the actual model number is. It's a small, boxy affair, with little weaponry, but a ton of armor. We call it the Batmobile, for reasons not known to me. At any rate, it's generally used as a mobile command module, which is always fun. However, it needs to be periodically inspected, and that was my job today. The thing is, it has steel plating making up its outer hull. While this is quite effective in stopping small-arms fire, it also gets very hot when sitting in the sun all day. This I found out first when I had to check the engine compartment. It has a metal panel on the front, which opens up, allowing access to the engine and fluid dipsticks. It's pretty heavy, but has a support rod- kind of like on a car, where a metal rod swings down (or up) to hold the hood open. However, on this particular one, the rod decided to display the unholy resistance of a pissed-off two year old. After spending some time trying to free it, and reflecting on the advantages of not having your skin burned to bacon, I finally got the thing in place. Again, the metal plates that make up the bulk of this thing get extremely hot. Though I had my hand on the underside of the 'hood', it was still plenty warm.
So after taking about 10 minutes to get the thing in place, then maybe one minute getting the fluids checked, I had to climb up to the top hatch and get it unlocked to get inside. Once I accomplished this, it's a question of dropping a large back panel, letting some light in, and getting down to business. Keep in mind, your average track vehicle is not exactly a double-wide inside, and so in I went. Then I had to climb back out the top hatch (to check the antifreeze- for some incredible reason the radiator is on top).
So, having had a fellow soldier secure the hatch, I climbed up. The wind, which seemed to be noticeably absent in the blast-furnace heat of the interior, now decided to whip that (2" thick steel plate) hatch right onto the side of my head. After blackening the paint with a torrent of words perhaps long lost to the sands of time, I went back up and checked the antifreeze, burning (again) my hands and arms on the surface of the vehicle. Yes, all in all, a productive and painful day. So this upcoming week when I convoy out in the thing, I'll try to resist my baser urges and not run it off the road into a ditch.

In other, unrelated news, I had time this morning for another Tarot reading. It was one I hadn't done in a while, a Horseshoe spread. It consists of seven cards, as follows-
The first card tells of the past, at the base of the horseshoe. Here was the 10 of Swords- defeat, destruction, but at the same time from the spilled blood a flower grows, (he says, hoping that doesn't sound too much like an oracle). The 10 represents a process of ending, but at the same time beginning again. This seems to fit pretty well, in light of everything that has already transpired.
In the next position, the present, is the 10 of Wands. Like the 10 of Swords, this one tells of completion, and in this case, the burden of a new undertaking. It could be the weight of a divorce, and the mixed emotions it brings with it. Unfortunate, but true.
Now in the next position, which tells of the Future, is The Devil. This tells often of negative patterns, like an addiction, or something that you have the power to release yourself from, though at the same time, this may not be entirely clear- often the Devil tells of a need for outside perspective, and in this case, I think it points to simply DFA- Don't F*ck Around- I've come pretty far already, and the past does not need to repeat itself. A lot of it does seem to be just that- that I never realized I could break the cycle whenever I wanted. But the result of this is what? That I'm in a position to either go backwards or forwards- repeat the whole thing over again, or go forwards, throw off the chains that I left there for far too long.
The next position tells of the best course of action, given the current situation. Here is the 6 of Swords, which makes a good degree of sense- the 6 tells of travel and change, of things moving forwards, and, in a word, change. This points to change for the better, I'm glad to say. Yet the impetus is there, it falls to me to put it into motion, follow through and just get on with life.
The next position tells of thoughts and feelings, and here was The Star- telling of things working out, it would seem nothing can stand in the way of sheer determination and will. Well, that's all well and good, but there's a more subtle message I see here- I don't get carte blanche on this one- the universe has a purpose, and I'm beginning to believe I've just recently begun to grasp it. So thusly, there are two options- continue along, fighting the good fight, or go off on your own. A small boat survives the rapids not by fighting, but rather by being borne along on the currents. Not that it's really going to be that hard, a part of this card tells of signs and direction- it's a simple matter to figure out where you're supposed to be going, or where you're being prompted.
The next position tells of hidden influences- things that may not be apparent, but affect you nonetheless. Here was the 8 of Swords, which I found interesting, and also cutting. (pun not intended). For a long time I was afraid to make a move- I admit it, I thought better the Devil (again, no pun intended) that I know than the one I don't know. Well, there's one aspect I overlooked- sure, I may get a little scraped up here and there, but ultimately it's better to fight than to wait, suspended and afraid to move. Better to take it and move on- the image of this card is a blindfolded woman, bound and surrounded by swords. It looks like wherever she moves, she's going to have a nasty sharp surprise waiting. However, this woman is bound by her own hands, not by the swords around her. Sooner or later she'll grow tired, and have to make a move. The fact that she knows it's coming somehow makes it worse- the actual event is rarely as terrible as we imagine it to be. So at any rate, the message here is take a deep breath, go for it, and accept the consequences. This too makes sense, and in some ways has already begun- in some ways my hand was forced, but nonetheless, it's definitely proving to be for the best. Painful, but for the best.
The last position tells of the Outcome- here was the 5 of Wands. It represents conflict, and disharmony- often compared to arguing with yourself, the card tells of uncertainty and doubt, and with this, the fear of making the wrong decision. Nonetheless, looking back at the 8 of Swords, it seems the best course of action is to plow through, marshall resources as best I can, and move on with life. No one ever said it would be easy, but I know it's worth it in the long run.

And Then The Fight Started

They see me rollin', they hatin'
Patrollin', and tryin' to catch me riding dirty
- Chamillionaire, Ridin'

Special thanks to John Windham for today's warped humor!

My wife and I were sitting at a table at her high school reunion, and she kept staring at a drunken man swigging his drink as he sat at a nearby table alone.

I asked her, "Do you know him?"

"Yes," she sighed. "He's my old boyfriend... I understand he took to drinking after we split up many years ago, and I hear he hasn't been sober since!"
"Wow," I said, "Who would think a person would go on celebrating for that long?"
And that's how the fight started...


One year, I decided to buy my mother-in-law a cemetery plot as a gift for Mother's Day. Next year I didn't get her a gift. When she asked why, I replied,
"Because you didn't use the gift I got you last year"
And that's how the fight started...


Saturday I woke up early, got dressed quietly, made lunch, and slipped quietly out to the garage. I hooked up the boat, and backed out into a torrential downpour. The wind was blowing 50 miles an hour, so I pulled back into the garage and turned on the radio. The forecast said that the weather would be bad all day.
I went back into the house, got undressed and cuddled up to my wife's back, and whispered in her ear, "The weather's supposed to be bad all day."
To which she replied, "Yes, and can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in it?"
And that's how the fight started...


When our lawnmower broke, my wife kept hinting that I should get it fixed. But somehow I always had something else more pressing to do than get it fixed. Finally, she thought of a clever way to make her point.
When I arrived home one day, she was seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors. I watched in silence for a moment, then went into the house.
I was gone but a minute, and when I came back out, I handed her a toothbrush. I said, "When you finish with the lawn, you might as well sweep the driveway too."

The doctors say I'll be able to walk again, but will probably always have a limp.

The End of the Week, Kind Of

Thursday has come and gone, tomorrow promises to be pretty uneventful at the motor pool. Most of us single soldiers will be out at the lake, doing something that has yet to be made completely clear. Well, such is the way of things. The latest news from the surrounding areas is that some prisoners escaped from a prison down in Wichita Falls, TX and apparently had some plan to 'blow up' Fort Sill. (Probably putting that in here just got me on a whole lot of hot lists, but take it in context.) At any rate, how this was to be accomplished is not known, nor why, after you just broke out of prison, you'd want to go do something like that, is beyond me. Personally, I'd be more apt to head for Mexico, down a couple Coronas and call it a day.
But then again, I've spent a sum total of one night in jail, so couldn't really say. At any rate, this resulted in us standing by for quite a while, setting up the motor pool for inspection, which as far as combat is concerned, we could give a rip less. We also had to clean a great deal of weapons, mostly the MK-19 grenade launchers. They are a pain to take apart, and weigh about 150 lbs. each. Cleaning them becomes something of a chore, but a necessary one. Gunpowder leaves a carbon residue which can be a pain to clean out of small metal parts, of which a large weapon has many. I also saw something pretty interesting a couple days ago- I've heard of 'ganster grips', but prior to that day had never seen one- I thought they only went on machine guns, but I saw some on M16s as well. The gangster grip is an upright handle set at right angles to the barrel (picture a tommy gun's front grip, it's quite a bit like that). I'm thinking it would make the thing impossible to aim, as I got so used to holding the front grip in an underhand way, and aiming like that. Then again, I'm a lot better machine gunner, so who knows?
Well, I'm afraid there's not a lot more going on lately, so I'll call it a night. Time for dinner, anyway- I figure I'll do something bad, like Sonic- what the hell, I've been good all week. Hope everyone's day goes well, and enjoy the weekend! And of course, steer clear of Tenafly Viper!

Signals in the Air

Today was a second day of ammo detail, reminding me of one thing- ammo is heavy. Strangely enough, it's machine gun ammo crates that are the heaviest, perhaps because they're more densely packed than others. But all I had to do was load it onto the truck, n0t unload and unpack it. I did have to unpack MK-19 rounds, which look like cartoon shotgun shells. They actually are grenade rounds, meaning the shotgun shell-looking part is basically just that- it contains an explosive charge that is designed to launch the projectile, which looks like a big cartoon bullet. (I'm not making this up, draw a little face on the thing and you'd be all set). At any rate, the big cartoon bullet is usually explosive, though we used inert, powder-filled rounds to mark where an impact was. The MK-19 looks like a huge machine gun, which basically it is. It's designed to fire multiple explosive rounds up to 1000 meters. It's not really an anti-personnel weapon, as it wouldn't make sense to try to knock down a person with one of them. However, I'm told it has considerable advantages in mountainous terrain, and can offer compensation for not holding the high ground. This makes sense, as the range on the weapon is considerable. I dropped more than a few on an old tank, an old truck, and something a little too shot-up to be recognizable- these were the targets we were using. Like much of the weaponry we have at our disposal, it's good fun for people who like it when stuff goes boom. (guilty as charged).
The ammo comes in belts, although the weight of the thing and the time it takes to aim seem to make the M-203 grenade launcher a more practical choice. It's similar in caliber and projectile to the MK-19, the main difference is a single shot, and it's mounted onto an M-16 rifle. And doesn't sound as cool, but again, that's really a secondary concern.
At any rate, now that I've gotten that out of my system, there's not much else to report, except that my lady friend has found herself a new lair- she sent me a little video tour of the place, which is really very nice! No doubt it'll take some time before she gets settled in, and probably has a good deal of unpacking to do, but she seems quite happy there. I'm glad, and I hope it becomes a sanctuary for her. Perhaps a home, too! As I've said before, it is somewhat odd not really having anywhere to call home, but at the same time somewhat liberating. Home, after all, is where the heart is. In my chest cavity? It's a little dark and crowded in there, what with the organs and all, but well, okay.
On a serious note, I do wish her all the best, and no doubt when I finally get the chance to step through the doorway, it'll be like coming home- home is where my lady friend is- so in that case, I guess it is indeed where the heart is.

Down A Rather Different Rabbit-Hole

The evening finds me once again somewhat out of sorts. I've been consistently feeling like perhaps I'm losing touch with reality, lacking a better way to describe it. Though I'm fairly certain the 'real' world is still out there, and the change is occurring within me. Are you still taking your meds, everyone will no doubt ask. Of course- that's perhaps why the world around me seems unlike a nightmare, and more like a dream. If my own mind can produce my own custom-built Hell, why not a more livable world? Unfortunately, there are a good many people locked away who would say the exact same thing.
The way I see it, how do I know what's real? How do I know it's not simply my own disbelief that prevents me from rewriting the world around me the way I see fit? It's a bit like Chuang Tzu's quandary. Chuang Tzu was an old Taoist philosopher who once dreamed he was a butterfly. When he awoke, he was struck with a problem- he couldn't be sure if he was Chuang Tzu who dreamed of being a butterfly, or a butterfly who was now dreaming of being Chuang Tzu. The easiest answer I could come up with would be to simply look at any empirical evidence you can find. Then of course, the problem is that here you have the filter of your own mind to run anything you see through. So long story short, you can drive yourself mad in an afternoon trying to figure that out.

One of my favorite books has always been Alice In Wonderland, and Through The Looking Glass. Not usual guy fare as far as books are concerned, I know, but that's okay. At any rate, you could also spend quite a while dissecting little Alice's psyche, as Wonderland seems to be simply an extension of herself. There are problems Alice encounters, and often is frustrated by. But there is a happy ending, as Alice ultimately finds the resources within herself to master Wonderland, and while she returns to the real world, she is the better for the experience, and, we hope, can travel back there whenever she chooses. History tells us that the story was originally written for three sisters named Liddell, one of whom was named Alice. The rest, I guess, is also history.

But at any rate, the point of all this is that though we may not fully understand the world around us, never are we powerless to change it. What, after all, is the difference between the world of our dreams and the world around us? Surely both can be changed by us with application of enough willpower and effort- some things easier than others.

There was an interesting reading I had today- one of the rare occasions lately when I've been able to sit down and do a reading. The results were unsettling, but curious. The first card I turned over was the 4 of Cups, telling of perhaps a mixed happiness- things are okay, but still the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. It carries perhaps a sense of resignation, that this world may seem pale, but it's better than nothing. There will always be something that, if we think it, will seem better than the current situation. And we can go on forever, seeking out that one thing that we think will make us happy.

Covering this card was the King of Wands, telling of determination, will and strength, though a strength and willpower that must be tempered with wisdom and restraint. Sometimes this person gets a little ahead of themselves, taking on great projects all at once, then, not having planned it through, cannot bring them to completion. Again, the message is tend your passion and enthusiasm as a good fire is tended, and it will burn through the night.

In the Past position was the 5 of Wands- it seems somehow tied to the Four of Cups- like a conflict had been settled, but it's a bittersweet victory. I can definitely understand that- I'm happy enough where I am, but still seek to make changes- although I think this is different than the 'grass is always greener' mentality- there is one place I'd rather be, and so will draw on the strength of the present to get there.

In the Foundation position was the Six of Swords, telling of an application of thought and reason- in other words, trying to figure out the solution, what needs to change, what needs to transpire for me to be where I want to be. This seems like a good foundation- figure out where you want to go, then figure out how to get there.

In the Near Future position was The Tower- promising destruction, I always wondered if this should be the phoenix card- a phoenix incinerates itself, then is reborn from its own ashes. So from destruction comes rebirth, it seems. True, the Tower usually tells of things falling down all around you, but at the same time, the true foundation remains. In many decks, said Tower is built on a rock, and though the structure falls, the rock, its foundation, remains. From this, one could rebuild, better than before. Even in the darkest hour there's still hope.
In the Aspirations position was the Page of Wands- this perhaps is what put me in the mindset of new beginnings from the ashes of the old, as a Page represents a person starting out- someone who perhaps will grow into a Knight, then to a King, but at this point the Page still has a child-like innocence, or openness to the world.
Now, in the seventh position, telling of the future, is Death and The Star. An odd combination; also odd was the fact that there are two Major Arcana cards back to back. However, Death is not death, per se. What happens when your body dies? Well, generally you return to the earth, and the grass is a little greener where you lie. From an ending comes a new beginning, and this is the message of Death- notice how, on the Rider-Waite version of this card, the people almost seem to welcome the skeletal figure, who rides like a proud and victorious conqueror? And in the distance, we see the two pillars later shown on the Moon card. Death represents a change, usually a drastic one, but at the same time for the better. Coupled with the Star, this tells of a change serving some higher purpose, and with this combination, I take it to mean something inevitable. So instead of fighting, the answer becomes follow the prompting of the 'stars', so to speak. There is a greater purpose at work, though admittedly it may seem strange at this point. Well, seeming strange is about par for the course at this point, so let's see where this particular rabbit-hole turns out.
In the eighth position, telling of thoughts and feelings, I find the King of Cups and the Knight of Swords, telling of a desire for peace in relationships, but at the same time, a passion to fight for what I want to happen, and a warning against running off too fast- stop and consider, take a measured step- though emotions can be a powerful force, they can also betray you, or be your undoing.
In the ninth position, hidden influences. Here was the Chariot and the Queen of Swords, seeming to emphasize the seventh position. First, there is the Chariot- it represents the action of will, and the force of control over the world and oneself. This tells me that though things are falling in line, finding this path and sticking to it may not be as easy as it may seem at first. It calls for careful consideration, and determination. The Queen of Swords represents either a friend or foe, though in this case I tend to think an ally. The Queen can be a very manipulative person, though at the same time her intelligence can be used in the service of others- all in all, whoever she is, I'm glad she's on my side!
The tenth position tells of the outcome- in this case, what I can reasonably expect down the road. And here were The Lovers and the 4 of Pentacles- in other words, things are tending toward a new balance, and new equilibrium- the result of past changes, and a motion forwards. The end result of this will be a good, stable and relatively peaceful life. Is this the end of the journey? That's a difficult call to make. Perhaps yes, perhaps no- perhaps there is no end, and the sun will rise yet again, and life will go on. But at any rate, it points to a wise use of resources- both the things this time of turmoil and upheaval will bring, and the new, bright future- The Lovers also points to a balance, a mixing of elements to create a new and greater whole- the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, as they say. So onward, I guess! Let's see where the road leads next.

Return of The Revenge of the Living Dead Alien House Bloodsucking Corpses In Tromaville

Last night I saw the epitome of bad movies. Brought to you by the fine folks at Troma Entertainment, and featuring a lead role by the same person who directed this movie, this little cinematic gas grenade to the cranium was titled Poultrygeist-Night of the Chicken Dead. Filmed in glorious 35mm, and looking like it was produced on a shoestring budget, the acting is horrendous, the plot incomprehensible, and the humor the most crude of the crude. In-jokes about fast food and horror movies abound, and yes, there are indeed musical numbers. Well golly gee, pass me the Thunderbird and popcorn and let's get down to it!
I'm curious to know when this was actually produced, as it contains some pretty current pop-culture references. There's a Jared-from-Subway parody, a talking gay Hispanic chicken sandwich (yep), a brief cameo by Ron Jeremy, as well as material offensive to pretty much anyone and everyone. The basic idea is that there's a chicken restaurant (or chicken-flavored foodstuffs, as is pointed out) built on the ancient and apparently zombie-filled Tromahawk tribe burial ground. However, the zombies are pretty darn lazy, they only stick an arm up out of the ground on occasion. Either that or the film didn't have that much money for too many zombies. At any rate, gore abounds as the questionable sanitation, safety standards and contents of the food, as well as the personal habits of the employees result in yards of gross-out humor and general weirdness. The story more or less centers around Arby, a dim-witted cashier (or something) who inexplicably wears a skirt (his job title is counter girl) in the course of his duties at the American Chicken Bunker, owned by The General, former charter member of the Georgia KKK. (Guys, I couldn't make this up if I tried). So at any rate, the ghosts, zombies or whatever the hell they are are a little pissed about the chicken shack going on top of their eternal resting place, so begin to posess the chicken, (it gets a little vague here) and by extension, the people who eat said chicken, including the redneck cook, Carl Jr. (anyone else notice a trend here?) So at any rate, Arby's older self (again, unexplained) shows up, apparently from 25 years in the future, still wearing a skirt and sporting a "Go Yankees" tattoo on his hindquarters, sings a couple songs, and saves the day with a stash of firearms. And then it gets weird. The net result of all this is that chicken-zombies (no, I'm serious) overtake the city of Tromaville, resulting in some pretty spectacular and mind-bendingly bloody special effects. Definitely not recommended for the faint of heart, this movie redefines disgusting. It seems like some people sat down, came up with a bunch of fast-food jokes, and decided to make a movie. The result is too bizarre for words- any longtime fan of grindhouse films (you jaded twisted bastards, you know who we are) w0uld find a lot to laugh about in this movie. The three-disc DVD set I rented has extensive introduction from the director, Lloyd Kauffman, who comes across as quite a bit like Ed Wood on LSD, and generally makes fun of himself. It also contains Truth is Stranger Than Chicken, a making-of documentary, which reads like the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.
All in all, if you are in the least bit capable of being grossed out, look elsewhere. If you're sick and twisted, and have no sensibilities left at all, well, take a look. I've seen a lot of gory, bloody, disgusting films in my day, but this one beats out even Street Trash, with its fantastic wino-disintegrating scenes. So guys, stay away from the Tenafly Viper, don't eat anything likely to produce zombifying effects, and go play outside in the sun instead of staying inside and warping your mind with too many bad movies.

Bonds Broken and Unbroken

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn-
But that's all right because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry-
But that's all right because I love the way you lie

-Rihanna, Love the Way You Lie

I spent most of the morning getting stuff transferred from one barracks room to the other, which is a lot more work than it sounds like! But the new room is bigger, and the thermostat actually works! So I'm certainly not going to complain. As barracks rooms go, it's pretty decent. It could be an illusion, but it really does seem bigger. It has a different layout, though the square footage could very well be the same. Perhaps there's more floor space. At any rate, it's an upgrade.
In other news, it's been pretty quiet here lately, though work has been very busy. It's consistently been over 100 degrees all week, and we've had all kinds of reorganizing and all that good stuff to do. So we've been pretty busy, and drinking lots of water to try and stay on top of the heat. Of course, the modern Army uniform is perhaps not designed with this climate in mind- odd that Iraq and more desert countries seem a little better-suited to it. There's also an experimental new camo pattern out there, though it's not currently used state-side. Called multi-cam, it's a little darker and supposedly more versatile than the one we have now. I wonder if it's infrared reactive too? Our uniforms are somewhat IR-reactive, meaning you can see them at night with night vision scopes. But I digress. The problem is, if the enemy also has night vision scopes, guess what?
Well, the battle of the divorce goes on. I expected to get a nasty phone call yesterday, but happily, nothing on the wire so far. The Oklahoma court system is somewhat odd in this regard- not that they required the summons, which makes a good deal of sense. But that they will accept it as served if you send it through the mail, provided that it's with a delivery confirmation- the little green card that you sign, in other words. After that, all you need to do is return a copy of the summons with the same little green card, and that's that! Life goes on. I could say how every day I have to live with what I was, and what I am guilty of, and that would be true. But there's a difference between sinking into despair and turning that pain into something positive- this is why I have that heart tattooed on my arm. Because every time I feel that stab in my heart, I know that I'm not that person any more- I know that I rose above it. I don't pity myself, and would be insulted if anyone else did- but it's true what they say, karma is a bitch sometimes.
Nonetheless, the past is not the present, nor is the present the future. On a completely unrelated note, I have a great spot to sit and practice now- in the window, which opens out onto the back patio, porch, balcony or whatever the correct term is. But the result of this is that when you send sound out into a semi-enclosed concrete space, you get all kinds of echoes and reverberations- it sounds like a concert hall! So far no one has complained about it, though if they do of course I'll keep it down. I don't want to disturb anyone else, but it does sound pretty darn good, I have to admit. I'm still thinking of trying to pull a band together, although I'd rather keep it informal. I'm not a professional musician, and really don't have the time to commit to that kind of a second job. But just getting together and making music could be pretty cool. I know, I've said that probably a hundred times- the one thing I'm consistently short on is time, it seems. But I'm following a suggestion of Tabatha's, which is settle down and set aside time each day for meditation. Get back in the habit, in other words. It's easy to get caught up in the day-to-day, and allowing time to unwind is a good idea. Especially lately, when it seems a few minutes to breathe aren't available.

El Diablo Blanco, or The First Sergeant Cometh

So I learned how to make the title a link to a website! Under ideal circumstances, and assuming I didn't foul it up, that should take you to one First Sergeant Schofield's page, AKA El Diablo Blanco. As you can probably guess, those that know him have a lot of respect for this guy. I've known him but a short time, and I can say I do too. The First Sergeant has been recently assigned to our unit, the 696th FSC, and already has been making some pretty good changes, and in my opinion, much needed ones. But at any rate, apparently he left enough of an impression on his last unit to inspire them to create the rather bizarre Facebook page. At any rate, there's not a lot else to add, except that things are pretty busy around the motor pool- we've been getting things organized, as well as preparing for the never-ending EPA inspection. And yes, that is Environmental Protection Agency. So everything remains pretty much up to standard, and on that front, not a lot else going on. So perhaps when you Google El Diablo Blanco, you'll find a link to this post! Well, actually I have no idea, but that would be cool. So would a new Harley, but the odds are about the same.
At any rate, that's about all the news from here. I realized recently that it was another visit from the f*ck up fairy- though I filed divorce paperwork, I never sent the summons! Whoops! To explain in brief, a summons is a notification of pending legal action against a person. Obviously, this is required to proceed with the legal action- you need to tell the person that you're going after them in court, and give them a chance to answer. I feel somewhat bad about this, but at the same time am of two minds about it. I would have readily settled this a long time ago, (and should have)- when I got ready to file, the ex informed me that she had gone ahead and done that- filed in the Hartford, CT county court. Great, I thought! I'll be heading up that way on leave soon- when that happens, I can kill two birds with one stone- give the divorce papers an examination, determine if everything's on the up and up, sign them, then have the lady drop them off at the courthouse, where it would be entered as a non-contested divorce. I really do want what's best for the kids- my (soon-to-be) ex wife, I wish well, but apart from that, could give a rip less. I hope she has a great life, and is happy. As long as I never have to see her again!
Which brings us to Connecticut. After a long and trying flight down, resulting in a night spent trying to sleep in the Newark airport (sleeping in the blackfly-infested fields of southern Georgia was easier), I made it back to CT. What happened next? I saw members of my family, and generally took it easy. However, what's missing? Divorce papers! Can't read them and sign them if they're not present, still floating around in the void of "could-be", instead of getting filed, signed and so on.
So back to Oklahoma I go, report in, and life goes on. So, however, does time. And time is the one thing I'm running out of. Okay then, says I. Guess I'd better get on that divorce! Paperwork is filed in my state, and there it sits. I understand I'm to wait for a court date, which is hunky dory with me. Time passes, no word. Okay, I say, thirty days is ticking away, so pretty soon. Turns out, upon further investigation, the divorce paperwork is pending a summons- whoops! Easy to correct though. So in that goes, and then I send it off with delivery verification. This means that, as far as Oklahoma is concerned, if the ex receives the paperwork, then read it, turn it into origami, jump up and down on it and curse me to the depths of Tartarus, it doesn't really matter as long as she's received it. She then has 20 days to respond, which I would welcome. Very few things in the agreement I had drawn up are not negotiable, and I want to ensure she gets a fair shake on this one. At any rate, I waited for her, and then nothing happened. The explanation I received, in retrospect, made no sense. In Connecticut, when a divorce petition and summons is filed, you get a marshall to deliver it. However, the paperwork came back as undeliverable. There are marshalls, as well as sherrifs, down here. All have free access to post. If they were to be serving paperwork to myself, one of two things would happen. I requested that the address she use be my battalion office, wherein they are able to contact me, though I myself work down at the motor pool. The marshall coming there would mean that they would be directed either to the motor pool or would call me and tell me to go to the office. Failing that, the marshall would stop at the MP office, and ask where to find me. Then it would be a long chain of phone calls terminating with me- either way, the marshall not being able to find me is not an issue. Believe me, I work for the government- we're the easiest people to find. And so it was I said hell with it, I'm going to do this my way. The summons was sent, the divorce paperwork is filed, and tomorrow is the projected delivery day. No doubt this will be a very bitter and unpleasant emotional scenario, and I dread it like a root canal. Nonetheless, the situation is what it is. I almost feel like my hand was forced on this, as too much time has been wasted already. And I did try to give her every chance, but finally it comes down to me. Well, let the cards fall where they may, then. I take no pleasure in this, merely wish it to come to a quick and final end. Let the past lie, and let us live in the present.
Which brings me to an interesting Tarot reading I did this morning. Seems like a while since I've had time to sit down and do that, but then again, things have been pretty crazy busy lately. At any rate, here's the results- there were a couple things that struck me, which I'll get to momentarily. This was a regular (well, for me) 14-card Celtic Cross, and the first card was The World. This tells of expansion, growth and change. Think of it as a "new world", or a new horizon- this calls for the courage to take the bull by the horns, and get down to do what needs to be done. Next, covering it, was the Empress. I've always had the image of the Empress as connected to the earth, indicating that you have the foundation, the resources and the abilities to move forwards, to grow and develop. All you really need to do at this point is what was suggested by the World- get to growing, get to changing what you want changed!
The next card tells of the Past- here was the 8 of Pentacles, telling of a starting over, and at the same time working towards something new- a new direction, incorporating past knowledge and understanding, and bringing it to bear on the current situation. In other words, this differs from The Fool in that this Fool isn't starting from scratch- he's already got a lot of tools in his bag, and will build with them.
The Foundations position contained the Strength card, reversed. This tells me of working to renew something lost- time wasted, effort was expended in futility. However, the time now is to recover from that, and move forwards. Interesting that Strength is also numbered 8 in the Major Arcana- a point that will be reiterated throughout the reading.
The Near Future position held The Hermit, which I thought surprising- so many Major cards! Things must really be cooking. The Hermit tells of a need to examine- a need to look ahead, and at the same time look within, perhaps to see "what you're truly made of"- to cast a light of truth on illusions, and see what turns out to be just shadows. So again, the theme seems to be move past, look beyond wasted effort and see the truth of the situation. Then stop wasting time and get your ass in gear!
The next position was the Aspirations position- telling of the hopes I have for the situation, or the best possible outcome. Here was the Justice card- I should mention that in this deck, the Justice card is kind of creepy. A woman, hair and eyes wild, mouth open in a scream, brandishes the sword the typical Justice figure carries over her head, while her other hand holds the scales- reward and punishment as each is due, but this chick looks ready to unleash some serious punishment. But nonetheless, it's all karma, a reaction to an action. The question is, whose karma? Perhaps it's both of us together, and things will happen based on that. I don't dismiss the fact that this woman has not abandoned her scales- she holds to the principle of justice- let each receive as they are due.
Now in the 7th position, telling of the Future, is the 8 of Wands and the Page of Pentacles. The message here ties to that theme of moving forwards, of taking the lessons and wisdom from past experience and pressing forwards with it. The Page tells also of a new start- though I'm not as young as a Page would indicate, it's perhaps time to begin anew- to start things over. The Eight reflects this, and its suit of Wands tells of the potential to do just that.
In the Eighth position, thoughts and feelings on the situation. Here was the 8 of Swords and the Page of Cups- a similar combination to the seventh position! Here we see again, an 8- change, however here the change is a frightening one. It seems I'm surrounded by blades- wherever I move, I'm going to take some damage. But with this, you can't stay in one place forever- and it'll be that much worse procrastinating and waiting for an end. Better to move, to make the decision on your terms than being forced into it. However, again, the Page tells of a restart- a do-over, a new beginning. I can certainly attest to this, that it seems that very much the time has come for change.
The ninth position tells of hidden influences, things that affect the situation but may not be apparent. The two cards here were the 2 of Pentacles and the King of Pentacles. The 2 points to a temporary balance- things are in balance, but temporarily, like a wheel rolling down hill-eventually it'll run out of momentum and tip over, but for the time being it's moving in a straight line. However, this card promises the developments will come to bring things to a conclusion, for better or worse. The King of Pentacles, reflecting the suit, apparently tells of things changing for the better- it would seem there is a mastery of these things, as would be indicated by the King. The King also denotes learning and a man of means, who can accomplish what he needs to. Could it be that we see the evolution in the reading from Page to King, from inexperienced and unlearned to learned and wiser?
The last position tells of the outcome- here is the 8 of Cups and the 9 of Swords. The 8 tells of moving on- leaving what you know for the promise of a better and brighter future. I thought this was interesting, as there is the promise of a new future beyond the horizon, and coupled with the 9, it tells of awakening to it- things are not as bad as the 8 of Swords would indicate- this tells of opening one's eyes to see the world as it really is.
One thing that struck me was that there were essentially five 8's in the reading- the four suit cards and the Strength card. It would seem then, that the Eights have the meaning of change- the time has come for change, and to marshal strength for this change. As the Eight and Nine of Swords show, that change might not be a particularly comfortable or easy one, but when it happens, look to the knowledge of the past to help you through it. This Fool has tools in his backpack, and the key to success is knowing how to use them for the end you want.

A Letter To Kitty

Dear Kitty,
Well, it's another Sunday afternoon down here in Oklahoma. You were right, we need rain pretty badly. Though it's not as humid as it probably is up in Connecticut, it gets pretty warm.
Right now you're probably relaxing in your room- maybe watching cartoons, perhaps watching Eris goof around, throw her bone in the air or pretend she still fits on the bed.
Well, it's been a lot of time, actually a year and a half since we've been together. I can remember the first night we met- you were wearing a blue jacket, black shirt and black pants. And lots of blonde hair. Well, you always wore that, but at any rate, you know what I mean. I was glad to meet you- we had talked online previously, and I didn't want to tell you I was already really attracted to you. It seemed we had a lot in common, and that has held true.
So on we went- work in Connecticut continued to be a problem, so then it occurred to me- why not join the Army? I was later to learn that this was a popular solution in a crappy economy, but I digress. So off I went, signed up, took the oath, and went off to Fort Benning. That was a rough but good time, and I learned a tremendous amount about myself, and you, through the letters we wrote back and forth. It was a tough time, but I came out the other side better than when I went in. I felt like I had stripped away a lot of the excess, a lot of the slag, and left the pure iron of the man you fell in love with. "The nervous guy with the roses", as you like to say.
So then, completing AIT, I went on to Fort Sill, and to my first duty station. The regular Army was a bit of a culture shock, and therein was the problem. I did what I had done my whole life- close off, put my problems in the back of the mental closet and pretend it was cool. As time went on, I occasionally started drinking again. No big deal at first, I'd knock back a 40 in my hotel room and watch a movie, then when I moved out of there, it'd be a couple Steelies with dinner from down the block.
Of course, guys like me can't do that- there's no couple of anything. The drinking got worse, as did the stresses of daily life. Things started to crack, and finally, so did I. This was the beginning of the end, though aftershocks persist even today. I had forgotten that man that I once was- the iron began to rust again. It took me time, but ultimately I realized that it wasn't just the booze and the bad decisions- it was something deeper than that. In part, I realized my own thought patterns were really pretty screwed up, and that I would need to start there if I was ever to be 'right' again. So it began.
Now, I'm not saying everything's hunky dory, and it's a 'happy ever after' situation. I struggle every day to do the right thing, take the hard right rather than the easy wrong, as they say. And like all humans, sometimes I wind up flat on my face. But that doesn't mean I give up. I've been through tougher than this, and though it taxes my mental and emotional resources, it makes me that much more determined to get through it and on with my life.
I know that as time goes on, things will continue to improve. I know as I go on, there are two paths ahead of me. One is to take the easy way out- the other, to build up and reinforce. This path has no end- there will never come a day when I look back and say,"All set! Nothing more to do here". Rather, it will be a lifetime journey. But sometimes, the journey is more important than the destination. I already know where this will end up- but along the way, there's a lot to learn, and more to master. All I can hope is that I can offer you the support and strength you need from me, every day. But no matter what, I won't give up. I've given up too easily in the past, and perhaps meeting you was the turning point for all that. Now, it's death before defeat- someone once told me, you're only beaten when you don't get back up again. And so, I'm going to keep getting up to my feet, no matter what.
And soon, I'll see you again, and spend the rest of my life with you. More than that, I could not dream of.
Yours always and forever,
Jake

Refinance Your Soul, New Rates Available!

Well, guilty laugh time. I've been reading the website of the Christian Broadcasting Network, and their views on various topics, much of which villifies Paganism in its myriad forms. What it boils down to seems to be a few key points- Paganism is of the Devil, (a Christian, not Pagan, invention), Paganism, augury, Tarot, scrying, all that good stuff, opens some manner of door (meaning unclear) that lets loose a Pandora's box of nasty spirits that seem to have nothing better to do than give you the heebie-jeebies and throw your stuff around, and the only way out is to go to church, and/or (again, meaning unclear) accept Jesus.
Well, we're all entitled to our own opinions, and I feel bound to respect those of other people. Agree with them, not so much. But respect them, absolutely. However, I can't help but laugh at the occasional misinformation that pops up. I stumbled across a section on Halloween, my absolute favorite time of year. The website informs me that it was based on a Pagan holiday, which is true. Much like the rest of the Christian calendar- Easter/Ostara, Christmas/Yule, and so on. But in all fairness, the Pagans were here first, albeit not the Paganism we know today. At any rate, this being the case, it would be un-Christian to support or celebrate a Pagan holiday. Well damn, I think I'd rather be a Pagan then! Seems like they have all the fun holidays!
But apart from that, of course scrying (they manage a pretty accurate description), augury and fortune telling are all big no-nos, as these apparently bored-out-of-their-etheric-mind spirits will come and mess with you. Why would they do that? Sure, it would make some degree of sense for them to 'feed' off of you, if that was their design. But I'd figure the Devil, after 2000 years, would have a little better strategy than spooking a few teenage girls here and there. Maybe the Devil watches too many '80's horror movies, I don't know. Well, that's ok, so do I.
At any rate, most Christian websites I've encountered reccomend burning these books, cards, scrying materials or whatever else smacks of Paganism. No doubt some of these people are sincere in their beliefs, though I can't help but regard them as misguided. Personally, I'd rather face the burning stake myself than put fire to a book, regardless of its contents. It seems that here is the classic 'experimentation without education' paradigm. Sure, it's possible to open your mind, but know what the blue hell you're doing! Would you jump behind the wheel of a semi without knowing how to drive it? Disaster is more than likely to result. So if you go delving into the world around you, it helps to at least look at the map first.
As to the Church (I use the capital here because of the Church in its broadest, most all-encompassing sense) being the only path to salvation, safety and/or redemption, well, perhaps it's time for the Church to begin to look to science. It seems that the deeper we delve, the line between spirituality (perhaps not religion) and science becomes more and more blurred. What was once taken on faith can be partially proven- what can be disproven by science points to perhaps the fact that a religion needs to be open to new knowledge. Without this, the shift from spirituality to mind control happens frighteningly fast.
Well, at least they had some good recipes on there too.

Contains Mild Peril

And yet another post! That's because I'm too busy slacking off instead of going to work out, like I probably should do. Or clean my room, or do something productive. Instead, I'm reading other blogs. How do I become a Blog of Note? Get people to write notes on it? But aren't those called comments rather than notes? Do I write the notes? Well, at any rate, here's a link to a pretty cool blog- as the name suggests, it contains photos of the UK- good ones, too.
www.hydedailyphoto.blogspot.com
I'm not an expert on Great Britain, architechture, or any such thing, but it is pretty cool. There's a thing that says 'next blog', and when I click it it usually takes me somewhere interesting. Other blogs, mostly. I kind of expected that.

Art Nouveau

Please enjoy this random Art Nouveau mermaid- I didn't draw it, just thought she looked cool. That's one of the things I like about the Art Nouveau school- both simple, yet in many cases suggestive of a dark side to things. (Well, some might consider this picture suggestive in a few other ways, but whatever. Take your prurient concern elsewhere).
Apart from that, I went down to Texas today, mainly because I've never been there- changed planes in Dallas once or twice, but airports don't really exist in any state- they are a limbo all their own. They seem to be set up to make you that much more eager to get to your destination, and get out of the depressing airport. Unlike much of the South, pleasantly. Very few people seem to be in a hurry here. Stopping at a gas station more often than not means an extra 10 minutes of talking about something with someone you've possibly never met. Is that a bad thing? Not in the least! Though I'll admit it was something of a culture shock at first.
Of course, not to speak ill of the east coast- it's different, not necessarily better. Maybe the heat makes everyone slow down, I don't know. That and it takes you at least half an hour to get anywhere in the South- I know a great many east coast cities seem to have trouble with urban (or suburban) sprawl, but down here it's not so much sprawl as wide-open spaces. Some of it is farmland, some of it is just there. No need to build on it if no one's going to go there anyway, is apparently the rationale. Makes sense to me. And the world seems to go around fairly well without a new housing development.
I also got to see armadillos (armadilloes?), which I had not done before. They kind of wander around Texas, apparently. And occasionally get run over on the road, which is unfortunate. They are probably the oddest-looking thing I've seen down here to date. Not very fast-moving, they seem, like much of the South, to be content to let things happen at their own pace. Good philosophy, I think.
Well, I guess that was the moment of Zen for today. Armadillos are philosophers. Or perhaps a better term is Taoist masters. In case it wasn't apparent, I sat down to write this post with no particular starting point. Kind of like the weekend drives- well, there is a starting point,athough after that it's kind of wherever the road leads. Usually out of Lawton, as there's nothing much happening therein. There's a tire plant, a couple fields of cows, of course a Sonic or three, a couple dive bars, and the post. The post has a gym, and as I recently discovered, a 2-mile loop track. That would be interesting to run two or three times, as 4-6 miles is a usual run distance for me. Though the track would be a little less interesting, it would be a good place to run a nice, flat, easy-on-the-knees surface. I also was talking with one of my platoon members, who was kind of looking for a running partner, but didn't seem to be able to find one. The only problem is, (and it's probably just an innate guy thing) that this particular soldier happens to be a young lady, and well, rumors tend to fly faster than bullets around here. Not that I really mind, a soldier is a soldier, and a running partner is a chance to wind up in relentless competition, but I wouldn't hear a word against her, as she's a friend and fellow wearer of the green. But at any rate, I guess I should pay more attention to my own run twhan someone else's. I think there's yet another PT test at the end of this month. I could be less worried, but that would require an increase in my medication.
Of course, the Army does not subscribe to the idea of "If it ain't broke, don't fix it". It's more like, "If it ain't broke, let's set up a committee to figure out how we can fix it anyway, then spend about six months longer implementing it, when it was pretty fine in the first place." Thus, a new PT test. What was wrong with the old one? Pretty much nothing. Though now we're back to using "conditioning drills", basically a series of calisthenic exercises done in place of stretching. The rationale is that this will function more effectively than the stretching. Well, I figure greater and more informed minds than mine have figured this out. On my own, however, I still do stretches before a run, and after. Apart from the fact that I'd look rather silly out there doing these silly calisthenics by myself, I think the stretches work better. Maybe psychologically, perhaps physically, but the results are pretty much the same, I think. My rationale is indeed, if it works, don't mess with it. If it stops working, then fix it. So far, working out like a man obsessed seems to work for me. Keeps me occupied, in fighting shape, and staves off boredom that is probably one of the major root problems of the Army. The phrase "hurry up and wait" is very much alive and well- sometimes more than other times it wears on the soldiers.
Well, here's hoping your day is not boring, and full of adventure, excitement and really fun stuff!

Open Graves

Never Do This
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Yes, I know- juvenile humor at its finest. Well, it's Saturday at the barracks, so don't expect too much snappy intellectual humor out of your humble narrator. Apart from that, a pretty quiet night, and morning. It was hot, no surprise there. But the sun was shining, and it was a pretty nice day. There was a formation going on by the side of the road when I ran past, and on the way back (about two miles' distance), they had a huge tent set up. If there's one thing we learn to do on field exercises, it's learn to get the shelter put up.

Apart from that, I watched yet another in an endless stream of horror movies last night, (I should just break down and buy a TV- or not). At any rate, the title of this little gem was Open Graves, and seems to spend more time on the annoying lead characters than on any actual rationale for why stuff happens. There's a board game, supposedly made from human skin and bones, (okay, that part was kind of cool) which falls into the hands of a group of none-too-bright, obnoxious and self-centered twenty-somethings who, predictably, play the game. Turns out winning the game will give you one wish- anything you want. Losing the game means you get killed in any number of creative ways. Not that anyone's really that sorry to see them go. So on it goes, people getting killed, until the ending ,which continues the film's tradition of not making sense- a woman, apparently a witch, perhaps even the same witch whose body was used to create the game, walks out of the ocean (again, no reason why this is, it just is) and sprouts a set of dragonfly wings! (Okay, again, that part was pretty badass). Then our erstwhile hero wishes for the past week to be undone, and thus his friends back to life. The only problem is, along with the week goes everyone's memories of that week. So the whole thing begins again- luckily, we don't have to sit through the movie twice.
Which makes me wonder- if I had one wish, what would I do with it? Change the world? Make myself immortal? Well, while immortality would be kind of cool, I'd have to opt for a better world for my family, and a better world for everyone around me. Apart from that, no earthly idea.
But fortunately, there are a lot of good movies being put out there, many on the Ghost House Pictures label- one of my favorites was Babysitter Wanted, where the kid turns out to be sporting two small goat horns, and is the son of the Devil, or some such thing. Kind of messes with the whole babysitter in the house alone with creepy stalker guy premise- very amusing, if not actually that scary. Well, the point being, go out and see the world around you. There's a lot out there, despite a lot of this little green and blue ball being kind of a rough room. There are many things worth seeing out there- don't eat stuff off the sidewalk, though. On that somewhat Zen note, hope all is well, and stay chilly, everyone!

Toxic Gumbo

This happened to be a random graphic novel I read way back in the day. I like gumbo, though haven't had any that would answer the description of toxic. What made me think of it was a book I've been reading lately, Toxin by Robin Cook. It deals with E. Coli bacteria coming from meat, which apparently is a problem. I've heard scare stories from the slaughterhouse, how things are unsanitary, and how bacteria and all kinds of bad juju like that gets into meat. Partly this is caused by rendering, wherein animal parts not generally edible by humans are turned into food for animals or fertilizer. Okay, fertilizer makes a good deal of sense- food seems like a bad idea though. There's a chance of recycling any bacteria through the animals, thus producing a higher chance of illness. And of course, there's all kinds of horror stories about the conditions meat is cut and packaged in- whether or not they're true, I don't know, but will have to find out. Personally, I'd like to think the animals don't suffer much- just a quick shot to the back of the head will sever an animal's spinal cord- death would be instant and painless. But like so many things in a free market, profit becomes god-like, and people are willing to sacrifice anything and everything for it.

Case in point, there's also another toxic gumbo out there- Lake Ponchartrain, in Louisiana. After the levees broke, there was a concern that the lake would be polluted, yet one more casualty of Hurricane Katrina. But the point here is, there's too much thought of profit and not enough of the human and ecological cost of the things we do. And it doesn't make sense, in a capitalist system- it should be self-sustaining, thus increasing the potential to continue on- dead men don't drink Coke, as far as I know. However, people seem to rarely act in their own best interest- I've long thought that Dante got it wrong- the lowest level of Hell should be reserved for lobbyists, people who buy influence against the people our elected leaders claim to represent. Just one more tragic example of what happens when we put profit before people.

Comparison

It was a Thursday, and a hot one! Nothing much to report today, though I did manage to familiarize myself with a new Tarot deck- though it's a Tarot deck only in that it corresponds roughly to the Tarot. It's one I had long been struck by, and finally got a chance to examine a little more in-depth. The Osho Zen Tarot, as the name suggests, carries a lot of Zen imagery in it. It's actually similar in a number of ways to the Crowley-Thoth Tarot in that it is largely symbolic. In this case, each card is very individual, though it corresponds to a card in the Tarot- for example, the King of Swords is listed as Control, and the (abstract) picture kind of represents this concept. It's interesting that each and every card is given a specific meaning, usually in a word or short phrase. This kind of blurs the distinction between Major and Minor Arcana, and at the same time makes the reader focus on each card- what does this card say to me, individually? What message is contained here? It's this reason that makes me think I wouldn't recommend it for a beginning deck, much as I wouldn't recommend the Crowley-Thoth deck either. It could go one of two ways, either confusing the hell out of the person, or putting them in a position where they take the interpretations of the cards as unwavering truth, and don't formulate their own meanings, or personalize those meanings. This, I think, is what throws a lot of people, the idea of "this card means this, and that card means that". It's both an art and a science, as the meanings of the cards are somewhat fluid, changing to a degree with the cards that they are associated with or that appear near them, perhaps even in opposition to them, or contrary to them.
Nonetheless, armed with a knowledge of Zen, this could be an interesting tool, and provide insight to a more traditional Tarot deck. Again, I'd say somewhat like the Crowley-Thoth, though this is Aleister Crowley we're dealing with here, so a large grain of salt is recommended.
A couple cards struck me right off the bat- the first is The Fool, which, in this deck, is also called The Fool- other cards have their names changed, but can still be identified both by number and conceptual design. The Fool on this deck is somewhat similar to the more well-known Rider-Waite Fool, and carries the same white rose, symbolic of a pure and unspoiled mind, but here the cliff is a little different- The Fool has just stepped over the edge of the cliff, but the look on his face is one of complete absorption- he's so confident that he won't fall, the viewer is convinced of it too. Another card is Comparison, here the correspondence is to the Five of Swords, which usually shows a defeat, or sense of not being able to compete, and by extension, comparison to another person or situation. This makes a good deal of sense, as once one is defeated, they often begin comparing themselves to the person that defeated them. However, on this card the image is one of an oak tree and a stalk of bamboo. Could the two compare each other? Both have advantages, and both fulfill their functions- the bamboo is hollow, and useful, while the oak is solid and also useful! Bamboo bends in the wind, while the oak tree does not bend. It's an interesting take on the card, which at first seems to have nothing to do with the suit of Swords- except that both deal with ideas and mental processes. All in all, I'd recommend this deck for people looking to gain a deeper insight into the Tarot, though people who are not familiar with the process might be a little stumped.
I find it interesting to examine each card in the spirit of Zen- no comparisons, no value judgements, more like a clear mirror reflecting only what's put before it. This is what most Zen teachers stress, simply being present in any given moment.

Where The Rubber Meets the Road

The week crawls along, today being a Tuesday. It's hot, incredibly so lately. Good weather to be wearing a full uniform and beret in? Perhaps not. There was some talk of going back to the patrol caps we used prior to berets being used, but so far no word on that. (This is Army-wide, not just our unit). The patrol caps do seem a little more practical, and functional. Berets with a dress uniform, which is not designed for combat, are another story.

At any rate, today was the change of command, or responsibility, for the 696th's First Sergeant. Most of us were in attendance, and set up camo nets for shade, as the sun was pretty potent. These would be the same camo nets we inventoried a couple months ago, just in case you were wondering. (Didn't think so). At any rate, someone who will remain nameless (you know which platoon you are... douchebags) put them back into the truck and back to our storage cage messed up eight ways to Sunday. So that means we now have to lay them out in the hot sun tomorrow and put them together the right way, the way they were supposed to be put in there in the first place! Oh well, no sense getting too stressed about it. We can't all exude excellence, as we do on a regular basis. Another thing that occurred to me today- if you are looking for me in the motor pool, don't assume I'm sitting in the office holding my breath waiting for you to come find me! Believe it or not, there are more pressing things than waiting for you to show up at some unspecified time. However, if I told you I would be in the motor pool, guess where I more than likely am? And don't spend two seconds looking in the office door (where I'm not) and then say you couldn't find me. Chances are I'm out where the trucks are. You know, those big bulky wheeled jobs that I'm qualified to operate and you're not? Yeah, those ones.

Okay, now that I've unloaded all my venom on that one, all in all it was a pretty good day. I'm already beginning to like this new First Sergeant, as he seems to have an incredible ability to cut through the BS that seems to accumulate around us. We can only hope the trend continues! Interestingly, in our battalion, we are the only unit- the others are what are called batteries, composed of a couple units. And we support all of them with our trucks, cooks and mechanics. But then again, being an artillery unit, the batteries are primarily concerned with artillery. But we're still cooler. And I kind of like this new First Sergeant's goal- let's make the rest of these guys look bad when compared to how overwhelmingly cool we are. There was talk of what I remember as being called a Ranger run back in basic- you have two five-gallon jugs full of water, approximate weight 60-65 lbs, that need to make it across the finish line, about a mile away. You may or may not be in full gear (battle rattle, as it's known), and carrying a weapon. Because once those water jugs cross the line, it's time to shoot a qualification round with your rifle. The rifle weighs something on the order of 7 pounds, so this is a pretty tough, but very rewarding training exercise! There's another event called Fit to Fight, where you do a ruck march, then a PT test, and I'm not sure what all else. The PT test, at least the old one, consisted of two minutes of pushups, two minutes of situps, then a two-mile run. Too easy! At least, if it's something you want to do. If you have to do it, it kind of sucks. But if you really want to be out there kicking ass, it goes pretty smoothly. Besides, anything to show off in front of the batteries.

On a sadder note, I hear there was a shooting at Hartford Distributors- strange, so often these news stories seem like they're happeining to someone else, but I know where Hartford Distributors is, and used to process incoming shipments when I worked as a receiver for a grocery store, way back when. Sad, that these things happen. Although I think the world is not quite as scary a place as the news would have us believe. But then again, who knows? I just live in my own little corner and try to hold things down here, and hope the rest of the world does the same. Perhaps in time there will be a way to prevent things like this from happening- everyone, it seems, needs someone to confide in, and someone to trust. My thoughts and hopes are with those people and their families today- there's usually a better solution. Try to see past the illusion, pervasive though it may be.

What Goes On In Ellington?

And here you thought it was all just cows and farms! I put this picture up because of an eerie resemblance in layout to my fiancee's parents' backyard. The strange thing is, I know people who would readily be involved in such a spectacle. But that's ok, so would I. Forget looking cool, sometimes all it takes is a giant eyeball mask, a percussive weapon and a small gasoline engine to secure your place in history. Well, that's about all I can really add at this point, hope you enjoyed it. The sun will likely rise tomorrow.

New Ink on Old Skin

Well, here it is another Monday. Today we had a short PT session because we had to go to a change of command ceremony. It was for the brigade Command Sergeant Major- this was the first time I had seen either one of them, and that's not a bad thing. Not that I think they're doing a bad job, or any such thing. Actually, it's because on my level, I have such little contact with the brigade-level powers that be. If someone goes to brigade, it's because you either really screwed the pooch or did something really great. Thus, I know very little about the brigade. I know where it is, and that sometimes command decisions come out of there, but that's about it. Such is the Army.
Apart from that, I can now add to the list of tattoo artists I can recommend from experience- one Jeannie Cloud, late of Lawton, OK. She does good work- pictures to follow when I figure out how to put them on here. (Don't hold your breath, guys). I had one done this weekend, which was a little more in-depth than the last one I had, a simple Tibetan script. It was the mantra of Green Tara, I believe the language is Pali, though it may be a Tibetan derivative thereof. Pali, if memory serves, is native to India. However, I recognize it, and can usually decipher which mantra it is. (There are various mantras for various Buddhas, each one posessing unique characteristics). My patron deity has always been Green Tara, however. Traditionally there are 21 manifestations of Tara, and the story goes she was created from a tear of Avalokiteshvhara, who has a thousand arms. These thousand arms make him more than a formidable ping-pong player, as they are meant to deliver aid to any suffering being anywhere in the world. When he saw how much suffering was in the world, the story goes, he began to despair of ever curing it all, and shed a single tear. From this tear was born Tara, who was able to kind of pick up the slack as far as helping sentient beings was concerned.

Another story tells that Tara was a princess. She studied the Buddha's teachings, but then heard that women were inferior, and thus to attain true enlightenment, she would have to be reincarnated as a man. The hell with that, she said, though not in so many words, and vowed to remain female until all beings were brought to enlightenment, and to help them along the way. Thus, either way Tara is one of the kind of readily present Buddhist deities, and at the same time kind of a no-nonsense type. I admired this the first time I heard the story, and deep meditation has revealed her to be both a formidable force and a wise guide and protector.
At any rate, this is the rationale for the tattoo I had done, and its placement. It's something of a take-off on the well-known Three of Swords from the Rider- Waite Tarot deck, though a little more colorful and three-dimensional. It looks pretty good, if I do say so myself, a credit to the artist that put it there. It's right under Tara's mantra, which I've worn on my right arm for better or worse. This card, to me, has always seemed to pop up in readings. But never in a bad position, or carrying a negative message. Always, it's seemed to mean that no matter what, there's a grain of truth to take away from this. What you may learn depends not on how much you suffer, but what you do with that suffering. Pain, after all, is pretty relative. If you can see through the illusion to the core of the matter, you'll find often that things are not as bad as they seemed at first glance. And this was often the answer I would get from Tara- not, "okay, let me take all your problems away", but rather, "figure it out- there's something you need to know here. I can show you the road, but it's up to you to walk down it". And that's why that seemed appropriate- because both of these remind me that behind it all, there's some kind of purpose, even though it's not always easy to see.

Night Train to Nowhere

Today was an interesting morning. I woke up, folded laundry, and hunted around for some workout clothes to wear to the gym. Most of them are in dire need of the washing machine, although I suppose this is not a bad thing- working hard, and all that. Today was not a lot different, as I was on my way to the gym. Breakfast consisted of a Powerbar and coffee, as I wasn't really that hungry. So off I went. (Told you I have a dull life...) When I got to the gym, I noticed a whole bunch of basic trainees in formation. Interesting, I thought. What are they doing here? Should I go to another gym, as they've reserved this one for some function? It turned out that they were there for a church service! The usual place the service was held, (I think it was over in the theater on post) was being used for something else. The gym has a large basketball court with bleachers, so this would obviously make a good place to fit a lot of people. Okay, not a problem! I certainly don't want to interfere with anyone's Sunday, or church-going. So as long as I can work out, I guess no problem there. And it wasn't. There was music coming from the basketball court, kind of tent-revival type stuff. It was kind of cool, in a way, lifting weights while next door a religious service was going on. I had a less than charitable thought, too- would someone come and complain that their sensibilities were offended? I'm not a Christian, so why should I be forced to hear Christian music? Personally, I could give a crap less, in fact it was somewhat enjoyable. If the Church gives you solace and support, who am I to tell you you're wrong? But in the civilian world I could see this happening- it seems in some cases people go a little too far. It seems to me that yes, you have a right not to be forced to participate in religious or civil functions you do not support. So don't! Other people have a right to assemble peacefully and do what they choose to do. If they do so in a public place, then they are well within their rights.
In some ways this reminds me of the new boycott of Target. Having worked there, on the corporate level, it's an OK place to work. (On the local management level, they don't know their asses from a hole in the ground, but that's another story). The story goes thus- civil rights groups are up in arms due to the fact that Target supported some conservative group. Okay, with you so far. The same thing went down with Disney, who pretty much did discriminate against couples of the same sex. However, it's not that simple. Target has, and continues, to treat same-sex couples the same as anyone else in terms of extending health insurance and benefits to spouses.
Stop and look at this from a business perspective- would it not be in the best interests of the company as a whole to offer benefits to its employees? After all, health insurance generally will mean healthy employees, and hopefully by extension happy employees. This is good for the company- sick employees tend to miss work, which means lost productivity. And everyone knows happy employees are more productive. If they're not stressing about health insurance and bills, they'll be more focused on their jobs. Besides, it means they'll be more likely to stay with the company as well.
But back to the topic at hand. Keep in mind that any company is only as good as its employees, (a fact definitely forgotten during my own period of employment with Target). Now, keep in mind also that a company will act in its own best interest- that is rarely if ever not in the interest of its employees, by extension, although it seems this fact is often forgotten, to the detriment of the company. But keep in mind also, the company is a business entity- it's there to make money. Thus Target's decision to support whatever conservative group it was. The article on this I read spelled out that this was a business decision, not a political one. In other words, it was in the best interest of the company to support this particular group to increase their profit. Personally, I don't agree with political lobbying, I think it's destroyed and shamed what could have been an otherwise great system of government. However, no one is exactly smelling like a rose in this. I don't agree with supporting lobbyists at all, which is what I think has happened here. But can Target, a corporation, be blamed for acting in its own best interests? Despite a good track record as far as civil rights are concerned, one move like that and it's time to break out the torches and pitchforks. Hopefully Sarah Palin isn't contagious, as this kind of thin-skinned complaining is all too common in the world today. True, we should live in an utopian society, and the only thing standing in the way of that is ourselves. However, a part of this is sacrifice, (in this case a seeming small one) for the greater good of all. This is not always so clear, but my own philosophy on this has been do the best you can, and hope for the best results.