The ramblings, rants, and observations of an Orthodox Reactionary. Feel free to look around!

Friday, December 4, 2009

So I was on Mars...

So I was working on my cogitator the other day. I opened the holy slot so that I could insert the dataslate-- and behold, the interior of the feed tray was defiled! Reciting prayers to the Omnissiah, I checked for further flaws, and finding none, I submitted a request for a new dataslate port. Chanting the Canticle of Swiftness, I waited. Within two solar cycles it had arrived!

I, being a humble adept, feared that my inexperience would further injure the machine-spirit. It was with that in mind that I approached my local Tech-Magos. Together, we lit the incense and chanted prayers of supplication to the cogitator's machine-spirit. Speaking the Litany of Unbinding, we performed the Rite of Removal-- taking the corrupted port from the innards of the cogitator. We chanted the Litany of Inclusion as we inserted the new dataslate port into the machine.

We ran holy diagnostics, fulfilling every step of the the proper ritual to ensure proper placement and connection. I whispered prayers to the machine-spirit and the Omnissiah for correct operation, as the cogitator rebooted.

It performed flawlessly! The Magos and I offered our praise to the Machine God that my cogitator could be brought back to perfection!

My computer broke and I took it to Geek Squad to fix it.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Miss home. Miss people there. Wish I could fix stuff, to make things better. I don't think I was in the wrong-- I reacted to the information I had been given-- but I'd rather have things fixed than be right.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009


I guess I might try blogging it all out this time around. It would give me something to do, and lemme vent-- cuz, folks, these kids is retarded.

You know, the hilarious thing about the Army? You kinda forget how idiotic it is until you are in the belly of the beast again. For example:

Today, May, Cantrell, and I left the Armory on a mission after lunch to take Cantrell to the doctor's office for his appointment. We ran to Best Buy to see if Geek Squad could help me with my broke optical drive: more about that later.

Anyways, we make it back to the hotel with Cantrell, who is appropriately drugged to the gills. We depart to our respective rooms and I, after some unpacking, prepare to take a shower. The time was now 3:15 pm. Naked, and practically in the shower, I get a phone call from May: we are required to go back to the Armory, for the day was not over yet.

We get back to the Armory at 3:45. They let us go home at 4:15.

Logic: the Army has never heard of it.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

A little something...

I was reading this today, and I feel that it is a comment that needs to be heard, especially today. From the greatest President we never had (Eat it, Ann Coulter):


"We have all heard much throughout our lifetimes, and seen little happen, on the subject of high taxes. Where is the politician who has not promised his constituents a fight to the death for lower taxes-- and who has not proceeded to vote for the very spending projects that make tax cuts impossible?(...) Talk of tax reduction has thus come to have a hollow ring. The people listen, but do not believe...

... I suspect this vicious cycle of cynicism and failure to perform is primarily the result of the Liberals' success in reading out the discussion of the moral principles with which the subject of taxation is so intimately connected. We have been led to look upon taxation as merely the problem of public financing: How much money does the government need? We have often been led to ... forget altogether the bearing of taxation on the problem of individual freedom. We have been persuaded that the government has an unlimited claim on the wealth of the people, and that the only pertinent question is what portion of its claim the government should exercise. The American taxpayer, I think, has lost confidence in his claim to his money.


Government does not have an unlimited claim to the earnings of individuals. One of the foremost precepts of the natural law is man's right to the possesion and the use of his property. And a man's earnings are his property as much as his land and the house in which he lives. Indeed, in the industrial age, earnings are probably the most prevalent form of property. It has been the fashion in recent years to disparage "property rights"-- to associate them with greed and materialism. This attack on property rights is actually an attack on freedom. It is another instance of the modern failure to take into account the whole man. How can a man be truly free if the fruits of his labor are not his to dispose of, but are treated, instead, as as part of a common pool of public wealth? Property and Freedom are inseparable: to the extent the government takes the one in the form of taxes, it intrudes on the other.

...But having said that each man has an inalienable right to his property, it must also be said that every citizen has an obligation to contribute his fair share to the legitmate functions of government.(...) The size of the Government's rightful claim-- that is, the total amount it may take in taxes-- will be determined by how we define the "legitimate functions of government." With regard to the federal government, the Constitution is the proper standard of legitimacy: its "legitimate" powers, as we have seen, are those the Constitution has delegated to it... when the federal government enacts programs that are not authorized by its delegated powers, the taxes needed to pay for such programs exceed the government's rightful claim on our wealth.

...What's a "fair share"? I believe that the requirements of justice here are perfectly clear: government has a right to claim an equal percentage of each man's wealth, and no more... the idea that a man who makes $100,000 a year should be forced to contribute ninety per cent of his income to the cost of government, while the man who makes $10,000 is made to pay twenty per cent is repugnant to my notions of justice. I do not believe in punishing success. To put it more broadly, I believe it is contrary to the natural right to property to which we have just alluded-- and is therefore immoral-- to deny to the man whose labor has produced more abundant fruit than that of his neighbor the opportunity of enjoying the abundance he has created.

... The graduated tax is a confiscatory tax. It's effect, and to a large extent its aim, is to bring down all men to a common level. Many of the leading proponents of a graduated tax frankly admit that their purpose is to redistribute the nation's wealth. Their aim is an egalitarian society-- an objective that does violence both to the charter of the Republic and to the laws of Nature. We are equal in the eyes of God but we are equal in no other respect. Artificial devices for enforcing equality among unequal men must must be rejected if we would restore that charter and enforce those laws.

One problem with regard to taxes, then, is to enforce justice-- to abolish the graduated features of our tax laws; and the sooner we get at the job, the better."

- Barry M. Goldwater


I think most of you will catch the relevance of what Senator Goldwater was referring to, and how it applies to America today. Of course, some of the numbers have changed over time. For example, under our current President (who was caught on film saying "I want to spread the wealth around"-- the very words Goldwater used to describe supporters of graduated taxes) people whose incomes are $100,000 and above now pay 95% of the federal income, and Americans who makes less than $15,000 pay nothing to the government. The inequities have not been resolved. If anything, they have grown since 1964.

Some might find it odd for Senator Goldwater to refer to taxes and taxation in moral terms, but he is absolutely right. Historically, Americans have seen the tax issue in a moral light since the colonial period. The Intolerable Acts, The Stamp Act, the Tea Act-- all of the furor around these issues stemmed from the English insistence that the Americans' wealth, as British subjects, was to be regulated as Parliament and the King saw fit-- and from the Colonial belief that each American had a right to the fruit of his own labor. For Obama supporters (or even simply big government supporters) to claim that the "people" or the government has a greater claim on someone's property than that person does, is to say that the American Revolution was immoral, and that "the last, best hope of mankind" is based on flawed ideas of greed.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Just to hold you over...

I'm probably not gonna be able to update this thing until sometime in August. So I decided I'd have a filler.

This is most definitely an awesome quote from an awesome person, but it is way too long. So I'll devote an entire post to Patton's Pre-invasion speech.

"Men, this stuff that some sources sling around about America wanting out of this war, not wanting to fight, is a crock of bullshit. Americans love to fight, traditionally. All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle. You are here today for three reasons. First, because you are here to defend your homes and your loved ones. Second, you are here for your own self respect, because you would not want to be anywhere else. Third, you are here because you are real men and all real men like to fight. When you, here, everyone of you, were kids, you all admired the champion marble player, the fastest runner, the toughest boxer, the big league ball players, and the All-American football players. Americans love a winner. Americans will not tolerate a loser. Americans despise cowards. Americans play to win all of the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That's why Americans have never lost nor will ever lose a war; for the very idea of losing is hateful to an American.

You are not all going to die. Only two percent of you right here today would die in a major battle. Death must not be feared. Death, in time, comes to all men. Yes, every man is scared in his first battle. If he says he's not, he's a liar. Some men are cowards but they fight the same as the brave men or they get the hell slammed out of them watching men fight who are just as scared as they are. The real hero is the man who fights even though he is scared. Some men get over their fright in a minute under fire. For some, it takes an hour. For some, it takes days. But a real man will never let his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood. Battle is the most magnificent competition in which a human being can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base. Americans pride themselves on being He Men and they ARE He Men. Remember that the enemy is just as frightened as you are, and probably more so. They are not supermen.

All through your Army careers, you men have bitched about what you call "chicken shit drilling". That, like everything else in this Army, has a definite purpose. That purpose is alertness. Alertness must be bred into every soldier. I don't give a fuck for a man who's not always on his toes. You men are veterans or you wouldn't be here. You are ready for what's to come. A man must be alert at all times if he expects to stay alive. If you're not alert, sometime, a German son-of-an-asshole-bitch is going to sneak up behind you and beat you to death with a sockful of shit!

There are four hundred neatly marked graves somewhere in Sicily. All because one man went to sleep on the job. But they are German graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before they did. An Army is a team. It lives, sleeps, eats, and fights as a team. This individual heroic stuff is pure horseshit. The bilious bastards who write that kind of stuff for the Saturday Evening Post don't know any more about real fighting under fire than they know about fucking!

We have the finest food, the finest equipment, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity those poor sons-of-bitches we're going up against. By God, I do.

My men don't surrender. I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he has been hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight back. That's not just bullshit either. The kind of man that I want in my command is just like the lieutenant in Libya, who, with a Luger against his chest, jerked off his helmet, swept the gun aside with one hand, and busted the hell out of the Kraut with his helmet. Then he jumped on the gun and went out and killed another German before they knew what the hell was coming off. And, all of that time, this man had a bullet through a lung. There was a real man! All of the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters, either. Every single man in this Army plays a vital role. Don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. Every man has a job to do and he must do it. Every man is a vital link in the great chain. What if every truck driver suddenly decided that he didn't like the whine of those shells overhead, turned yellow, and jumped headlong into a ditch? The cowardly bastard could say, "Hell, they won't miss me, just one man in thousands". But, what if every man thought that way? Where in the hell would we be now? What would our country, our loved ones, our homes, even the world, be like? No, Goddamnit, Americans don't think like that. Every man does his job. Every man serves the whole. Every department, every unit, is important in the vast scheme of this war. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns and machinery of war to keep us rolling. The Quartermaster is needed to bring up food and clothes because where we are going there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last man on K.P. has a job to do, even the one who heats our water to keep us from getting the 'G.I. Shits'.

Each man must not think only of himself, but also of his buddy fighting beside him. We don't want yellow cowards in this Army. They should be killed off like rats. If not, they will go home after this war and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the Goddamned cowards and we will have a nation of brave men. One of the bravest men that I ever saw was a fellow on top of a telegraph pole in the midst of a furious fire fight in Tunisia. I stopped and asked what the hell he was doing up there at a time like that. He answered, "Fixing the wire, Sir". I asked, "Isn't that a little unhealthy right about now?" He answered, "Yes Sir, but the Goddamned wire has to be fixed". I asked, "Don't those planes strafing the road bother you?" And he answered, "No, Sir, but you sure as hell do!" Now, there was a real man. A real soldier. There was a man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty might appear at the time, no matter how great the odds. And you should have seen those trucks on the rode to Tunisia. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they rolled over those son-of-a-bitch roads, never stopping, never faltering from their course, with shells bursting all around them all of the time. We got through on good old American guts. Many of those men drove for over forty consecutive hours. These men weren't combat men, but they were soldiers with a job to do. They did it, and in one hell of a way they did it. They were part of a team. Without team effort, without them, the fight would have been lost. All of the links in the chain pulled together and the chain became unbreakable.

Don't forget, you men don't know that I'm here. No mention of that fact is to be made in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell happened to me. I'm not supposed to be commanding this Army. I'm not even supposed to be here in England. Let the first bastards to find out be the Goddamned Germans. Some day I want to see them raise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl, 'Jesus Christ, it's the Goddamned Third Army again and that son-of-a-fucking-bitch Patton!'

We want to get the hell over there. The quicker we clean up this Goddamned mess, the quicker we can take a little jaunt against the purple pissing Japs and clean out their nest, too. Before the Goddamned Marines get all of the credit.

Sure, we want to go home. We want this war over with. The quickest way to get it over with is to go get the bastards who started it. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we can go home. The shortest way home is through Berlin and Tokyo. And when we get to Berlin, I am personally going to shoot that paper hanging son-of-a-bitch Hitler. Just like I'd shoot a snake!

When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a German will get to him eventually. The hell with that idea. The hell with taking it. My men don't dig foxholes. I don't want them to. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. And don't give the enemy time to dig one either. We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and by showing the Germans that we've got more guts than they have; or ever will have. We're not going to just shoot the sons-of-bitches, we're going to rip out their living Goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We're going to murder those lousy Hun cocksuckers by the bushel-fucking-basket. War is a bloody, killing business. You've got to spill their blood, or they will spill yours. Rip them up the belly. Shoot them in the guts. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt off your face and realize that instead of dirt it's the blood and guts of what once was your best friend beside you, you'll know what to do!

I don't want to get any messages saying, "I am holding my position." We are not holding a Goddamned thing. Let the Germans do that. We are advancing constantly and we are not interested in holding onto anything, except the enemy's balls. We are going to twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all of the time. Our basic plan of operation is to advance and to keep on advancing regardless of whether we have to go over, under, or through the enemy. We are going to go through him like crap through a goose; like shit through a tin horn!

From time to time there will be some complaints that we are pushing our people too hard. I don't give a good Goddamn about such complaints. I believe in the old and sound rule that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder WE push, the more Germans we will kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that.

There is one great thing that you men will all be able to say after this war is over and you are home once again. You may be thankful that twenty years from now when you are sitting by the fireplace with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what you did in the great World War II, you WON'T have to cough, shift him to the other knee and say, 'Well, your Granddaddy shoveled shit in Louisiana.' No, Sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say, 'Son, your Granddaddy rode with the Great Third Army and a Son-of-a-Goddamned-Bitch named Georgie Patton!'"
- George Patton

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

My life recently...

It's been awhile, so I guess I'll just fill in a little of what's been going on in my life since I last posted.

I've been doing the youth thing, with some success. I've started to try to get the kids to open up a bit during the lesson-- I also started opening with prayer, to try to get their minds to transition from breakfast to the class. I asked Dr. Durst (who is one of our interim pastors while Dr. Wineland is away in Jordan) for his advice, and am trying to add some application in at the end of the lesson. These kids don't really have a Biblical foundation-- which worries me, since I know you need one to get through high school-- and one of the kids is going to Morehead in a month.
I'm taking the youth group to see a movie next Monday evening.

Saw Transformers 2; thinking about maybe doing a review.

My roommate got a ministry job up in Ohio, and he's gonna be gone by the middle of next month. I'll stay in his place, and likely sign a new lease. I haven't found a roommate, though I told Gentleman (codenames are so much fun) that he is more than welcome to stay in my place. I've known Gentleman for about 3-4 years now, though he's since graduated from KCU. He's quiet, smart, a little nerdy- when I roomed with Mikhail Gentleman served as our RA. He has an interest in staying around these parts because his girlfriend hasn't yet graduated. I told him I could almost cover my rent- not quite a lie, but slightly untrue- and therefore wouldn't mind having him around. He told me it might happen if he could find a job around here.

The new GI bill will give me Housing allowance while I'm going to school- much the same as if I was deployed. The difference here is that when I was deployed, my BAH reflected my pay-grade, E-4. While I'm enrolled, I will recieve BAH equal to an E-5 with dependents. In other words, I'll have around an extra fifty dollars a month that will go straight into my pocket.

I've been looking for a job, and with security guard and Wal-Mart ruled out, I began looking at hotles. My plan is for a third shift job where I have time to sit and do some schoolwork. Hotel front desks(according to my roommate, who did that exact thing) are perfect for this. Show up at midnight, prep for the next day, check-in and check-out the "quickie" rush around 1-2am, and generally STAY AWAKE. That's the biggie. The bosses usually don't care what you do, so long as you don't fall asleep at the desk.

So I took out a bunch of applications- except for one, which was only a page long single side, which I filled out right there at the Holiday Inn- on Friday. Tuesday, I got a phone call from the Holiday Inn. They wanted an interview that day at 3pm. So I dressed, showered, ate, and went to the interview. Guess what they were hiring for? Third shift. I'm really hoping this pans out, but just in case I'm filling out the other apps and leaving them on my 'desk'.

I've got a really good friend that I haven't been talking to. The situation is a bit complicated, but I'm really trying to stay strong. We talked for about a week or so in June, then back to nothing. She expressed interest in going to church with me (which Mikhail and I both thought was odd, seeing as she wanted to avoid personal contact) but then wouldn't return my texts about church. I assume she either wants to be left alone, or is busy, or I pissed her off somehow. So I decided I would wait a literal month and a half before trying again. I even marked August 27 on my calendar. Until August 27, barring some huge earth-shattering circumstance (such as SHTF) I will make no attmept to contact her. The last thing I want to do is to make her angrier by trying to get in touch with her. (I've noticed she and I have opposite reactions to bad news or bad occurences in our lives. "Fight or Flight." I fight, and she... flights? Bad grammar, but I think you get the point.)

I've noticed I'm rambling, so I'll let this go. Later.

PS. Is it just me, or do I update this thing in spurts? It must take a month for there to be anything interesting to write about in my life, I guess.

"Anyone who clings to the historically untrue -- and thoroughly immoral -- doctrine that `violence never settles anything' I would advise to conjure up the ghosts of Napoleon Bonaparte and of the Duke of Wellington and let them debate it. The ghost of Hitler could referee, and the jury might well be the Dodo, the Great Auk, and the Passenger Pigeon. Violence, naked force, has settled more issues in history than has any other factor, and the contrary opinion is wishful thinking at its worst. Breeds that forget this basic truth have always paid for it with their lives and freedoms." - Robert A. Heinlein, Starship Troopers(1959)

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Still here...

So, I had a job interview today; more on that later.

I am also a proud member of the National Rifle Association and the Gun Owners of America.

I must therefore post an obligatory image of Charlton Heston:

That should do.

Later , all!

"Even though large tracts of Europe and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Gestapo and all the odious apparatus of Nazi rule, we shall not flag or fail.

We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be,we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God's good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old." -Winston Churchill

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Not a bad weekend

All things considered.

I taught my first class this morning. It was pretty cool, and it got me thinking that maybe this youth thing won't be so bad. I've got a possible fundraiser lined up, as well as my first event; I think I'm gonna take all the kids to see UP the weekend after next.

Tim came over and grabbed most of his stuff out of the apartment, so while my room looks like a disaster area, it's MY disaster area now. I also hung up all my clothes and had 70 or so hangers left over.

Going to get a tattoo tomorrow. Just in time to see my (anti-tattoo) mother this weekend. Looking forward to that... I promise I'll put pictures up eventually.

There's a situation I'm dealing with, and I admit it gets... difficult at times. But I read 1 Corinthians 13 Friday night, and it's like it burned itself into my memory. I start to grow weary of waiting, and verse four comes back to me. I begin to feel anger and frustration, and verse five rises, unbidden, in my thoughts. It's a tall order that Christ commands of us, that's for sure.

I needed cheering up yesterday, so I watched The Princess Bride. Such a good movie.

I'm still thinking of reviewing a bunch of Graphic Novels. The short list for right now is Light Brigade, The Watchmen, Superman: Red Son, Kingdom Come. Any suggestions? Would anyone read the reviews? Will I have the time?


"In the absence of orders, go find something and kill it." -Erwin Rommel

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

So I should be writing a paper...

But I'm not. I just finished one, and I'm about to head to the fridge to grab an energy drink before I start on the other one. Sure, they taste terrible, but they'll keep me awake.

I kinda feel like venting. I mean, I'm struggling spiritually, which is the constant state of soul that a Christian is supposed to have. I'm growing and stretching in all sorts of ways that are definite improvements. But even though I'm dealing with the problems and sins I had before, now new ones that I've never struggled with are popping up. It makes me so frustrated that I want to cry.

And I feel like I'm waiting on something that will never happen; That I'm tricking myself into thinking that it will, and I'm wondering if, even though its what I want with all my heart, that maybe God doesn't WANT it to happen-- and that makes me angry at God, that like He's been leading me along all these years and letting me hope for something that was never going to be.

I'm tired of being alone. Not only over the summer, but just in general. I am so ready to give this up.

Which reminds me. I went to a friend's bachelor party on Saturday. And every so often, he would whine. "Man, the glory days are over," he would bitch. "No more parties, no more wild nights," he moaned. I wanted to smack him. I wanted to beat him profusely about the head and shoulders and shout "WTF are you crying about? Are you whining cause you've got a beautiful girl who is willing to spend the rest of her life with you? That you've got that security now, someone who will listen to your fears and frustrations, who will be waiting for you to come home? And yet you sit here, acting like parties and strippers and all this shit is stupidly important, like it's worth missing?!?! Some of us don't have all that. Some of us want it. Shut. The. F@*$. Up."
Seriously. I just think he was trying to be deep, and he failed miserably. But it was still annoying. It made me want to cuss.

My part time job is as the youth pastor of Black Oak Christian Church in Vanceburg. I really, really didn't see or expect that. But now that I am in this position, this place of accountability... I feel so unworthy, so unprepared. I feel in over my head.

Sitting in this apartment, doing homework, planning work stuff and stewing, doesn't help.

Gotta go finish that paper now. Cheer me up, TR.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.” -Theodore Roosevelt

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

I'm not dead...

I just have a lot of classwork that is piling up all at once on me.

I got a part time job; that's cool. And I'm looking into a full time job after this week. Following a pretty solid lead, and it might pan out. God is good.

Lucky has a bolt-action rifle that's worth about $1000. The bad news? He is in a tight financial fix, which means he is selling his rifle for about $500. Lucky is the kinda guy who won't take handouts; so I didn't even bother asking. Now, my current plan is to buy it from him, take care of it, put some rounds through it, whatever. Then, I'd sell it back to him after awhile. He gets the cash he needs, he can shoot his rifle whenever I'm down there, and he'll eventually get it back. Sneaky, eh?
I also recently learned that Lucky's wife (Hannah?) was pregnant, and miscarried. She took it really hard. So prayer for that situation.

Oh, and this weekend might consist of more than sitting around the apartment!

*looks at last sentence*

Damn. This is gonna be a long summer.

"They've got us surrounded again, the poor bastards."
-Creighton W. Abrams Jr, Gen. US Army

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Random thoughts

One of my very good friends from basic training got back in touch with me. Lucky is a pretty cool guy. Eh was in Basic with me and doesn't afraid of anything. (Sorry, inside joke. Moving on...) We see eye-to-eye on a lot of stuff, and I have to admit I like him better now that his loving Christian wife has reined him in. Haha. Anyway, I'm looking forward to heading over to Fort Campbell eventually and hanging out with him-- even though he is *constantly* trying to hook me up with one of his wife's sisters as of late. I'll simply take it as a compliment that he considers me worthy of brotherhood, and leave it at that.

I WAS gonna head over to Ft. Campbell this weekend, what with the day off for Memorial day on Monday and all, but I got a phone call from the unit-- it turns out I was volunteered to spend my Saturday (11am- 2pm) standing on a "Welcome Home 201st" float that is gonna be drifting through downtown Grayson (all ten feet of it). I need to find a beret and some wraparound sunglasses before then.

Saw Exorcism of Emily Rose. Good movie.

Might have a job offer around the corner-- maybe more than one.

I'm thinking of posting a series of my favorite Graphic Novels (comic books for all you non-geeks out there) What d' ya think?

I'm gonna go set up my room-- right now evrything is in boxes. I want to make it look lived in.

"Yea- though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for I am the meanest mother#@$% in the valley." -George S. Patton

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

My Star Trek review, and the Nature of Trek

Okay, folks. It took me awhile, but here it is:



I mean, seriously.

Now, I am a life-long Star Trek fan. Some of my best childhood memories involve sitting in the living room with my dad and my brother, watching Star Trek: The Original Series(TOS) and The Next Generation(TNG). I remember once, around 2nd grade, having to be sent back to bed because I had snuck out of my bedroom and into the living room because Star Trek: The Motion Picture was on. My brother and I, between us, owned almost every Star Trek action figure there was. We even had the very badass Transporter room playset-- y' know, the one with the trick mirror that makes the figures disappear with a beaming noise when you put them inside? I discovered much sci-fi since then, but the Enterprise and her valiant crew have always held a special place in my geek heart.

But in recent years, my beloved Star Trek had fallen on hard times. It suffered from a series of lackluster-to-outright-bad movies, even worse TV series, and terrible corporate handling. In the pop-culture solar system, the mainstream and the accepted dwelt nearest the social sun; the tolerated science fiction and fantasy planets revolving at a distance; and further out, the obscure but cool gas giants.

And way out there, at the fringe where barely any light reached, was Star Trek. Star Trek had become a joke and a byword to the masses, only cared about by a sad fraternity of laughable "basement dwellers"-- like the Freemasons, but with fake pointy ears. And it seemed that Star Trek was doomed to eternal irrelevance.

Then... this film. With the aid of some of my awesome fellow Rumblers, I have compiled my thoughts into something cohesive and more substantive than merely throwing around adjectives. Though there will be plenty of those too.

Okay, on to the film itself.

The opening scene is fantastic. We see the USS Kelvin encounter the big bad villain's ship (Emphasis on BIG) from the future. The camera angles and special effects really emphasize the vastness of space. I don't want to spoil this film (it is really good, and you NEED TO SEE IT), but there is a heartbreakingly awesome moment at the beginning that had me in tears Every. Single. Time. I saw the movie.

Zachary Quinto does a great job as young Spock, perfectly balancing the human emotions roiling beneath the calm Vulcan exterior. Chris Pine stays away from Shatner-esque hamminess, finding his own way of expressing the essence of James Kirk. Simon Pegg as Scotty was hilarious, though alongside Sulu, Chekov, and Uhura, didn't recieve nearly enough screen time. But by far the best of all was Karl Urban. He WAS McCoy, down to the facial expressions, physical mannerisms, everything. I wasn't sure that he could pull off "Bones", since until this point Urban had always played big, brooding, manly roles. But I gained a level of respect for this actor that I had never had before.

It was a real delight to see Leonard Nimoy in what is probably his last appearance as Spock. Practically half the movie is fan-service and shout-outs to long-time Trekkers, making us feel right at home alongside brand new fans.

The special effects are stellar (literally!), and the new Enterprise is a beautiful lady indeed. The action is fast and fun. This movie grabs you right out the starting gate and doesn't let go until the classic ending which is the hallmark of almost every (decent) Star Trek film. I recommend this movie to everyone, especially those who aren't Star Trek fans. What you see on the screen, and how you feel, is exactly how I have viewed Star Trek my entire life.

I've heard complaints about the "lazy writing", most of which revolved around the time travel aspect of the plot. But let's face it: time travel is a Star Trek staple, the veggies which go alongside the space opera meat and optimistic-future-for-humanity potatoes that comprise the fun, not-too-hard-sci-fi meal that The Original Series served every week. If you can't handle time travel, you really shouldn't be watching the show to begin with.

True, this movie didn't have an underlying "food for thought" philosophy that some episodes and movies did. But preachiness, to a degree, is what was the worst about Trek. The most loved episodes- in all the series- dealt less with how morally advanced our descendants would be, and more with real people-- people like us-- facing real dilemmas that we could relate to. "City On The Edge Of Forever" is acclaimed not because of any moral message, but rather because Kirk must sacrifice the woman he loves to save the universe. Anyone who has suffered *any* kind of loss can identify with that. What we can't identify with is Picard telling a 21st century woman that "we don't believe in money or personal profit. We work to better ourselves." I'm paraphrasing, but at its best Star Trek was people like us-- people with hopes, dreams, fears, and flaws-- facing unimaginable dangers and mysteries and pulling through because of heart, and because of each other. With a liberal amount of shooting and space aliens thrown in, of course.

And that's what we see onscreen. We understand Nero's desire for revenge. We see the anguish of Kirk's mother and father on the Kelvin. We feel Pike's disappointment at how Kirk has wasted his life. We see Spock struggling to control his anger and grief because of.. well, that would be telling. The point is, these characters are HUMAN.

This film took what was most accessible, most fun about Trek, and put it on the big screen. And in doing so, it made Star Trek "cool" again. (Of course, I always thought it was cool, but who asked me?)

Do yourself a favor. See this movie.

Live Long and Prosper, Star Trek.

"The best diplomat I know is a fully-charged phaser bank." - Montgomery Scott

Monday, May 11, 2009

Sorry y'all

I know I promised a post tellin' you what I thought of the new Star Trek movie. I haven't gotten around to it because my personal life has pretty much gone to shit all at once over the weekend.

And it's all my fault.

Y'see, there is a certain way friends act. Friends are supportive, not overbearing. Friends don't force themselves onto others. Friends don't consider what is going on in their life, in their heart. A true friend only considers the needs of those they care about.

This is where I failed.

I have a friend. I have known this friend for years-- literally, her entire college career. We met, and for me at least, it was love at first sight. Our friendship was somewhat rocky from time to time, as I put her needs above my own consistently. This was not always a bad thing (more people, I think, should do this) but the few times I put myself first, it damaged our relationship spectacularly.

Regardless, though we had feelings for each other, we never got together. Our timing was off, or there were other people in the way, usually.

She eventually got married (a mistake by her own admission) on a whim. She had a son, and then her marriage began to fall apart. I had stayed away at first, still burying the pain her marriage had caused me. But, I recalled my duties as a friend, and when she fell, as she had before, I was there to pick her up. I carefully hid my feelings, both from myself and her, and thought that since they were hidden they were dealt with.

As her marriage began to end I started to feel these deep emotions bubbling to the surface. I knew that being in love with a married woman was wrong only if I acted on that love. So I hid it. Even when she was at her lowest point during the separation, I kept my mouth shut and only administered to her needs.

I finally confessed to her a little while ago that I loved her. And I learned, to my surprise, that she loved me too. She and I began tentatively reaching out to each other, and this is when I committed my greatest sin: I hoped. I actually began to believe that maybe, for what seemed like the first time in a long time, my life wasn't meant to be one of loneliness and dissatisfaction. That maybe, after watching so many of my friends embrace happiness, I too would be allowed my heart's desire.

I returned from Afghanistan, and things seemed to go well for the first month or so. Then, she got officially divorced. (*I know this is incriminating, and that my legalistic friends will point their fingers and scream "SINNER!!!!" My only response is, "Yeah, I am. And so are you. Realize that that covenant was broken the moment my friend's husband cheated on her. And once you've turned that over in your mind, you can promptly go to whatever Hell you choose.") Around this time, she started acting strangely. I didn't quite notice, and what I did notice I wrote off.

A brief aside: I am a Christian, and I value my relationship with Christ highly. But the final few months of my deployment to Afghanistan I backslid. HARD. I did not read my Bible, I didn't pray, I was embarrassed when people mentioned God. I used profanity without regard to the feelings of my fellow Christians. I became a practical alcoholic. God has been slowly working on me these past few weeks, and I can see visible improvement in my life. There is still much work to do, but He is making me- willingly-- into the man He wants me to be.

I began to harbor a fear-- irrational, I later learned-- that she and her ex-husband were getting back together. I acted like an idiot, and she refused to talk to me. About two weeks later, I saw her and we talked briefly. I learned what the deal was (they had suddenly gotten joint custody) and things seemed, after that conversation, to improve for about two days. She even said hello to me (!) two days later. I asked her if she needed some space, and she said yes.

I left town and gave her the space she asked. When I returned, things still hadn't seemed to improve. I went to her son's birthday party.( For those of you who don't know him, he is the cutest little kid in the whole wide world. And I fell in love with him too...) There was a moment when she and I were alone, and I asked if we could talk later. She practically exploded at me. She explained that the day we talked before, I had cornered her and trapped her (But, of course, I never grabbed her and locked her in bedrooms, like other people I could mention...) and that this was a wholly inappropriate place to bring this topic up. I asked her how could we bring it up in an appropriate place, if she wouldn't return my texts and calls. She said for me to give her two weeks. (Graduation Day.) Looking back, I realize that she never intended to talk to me, that she was simply buying time for her to get the hell out of Dodge, knowing that she would never have to see me again after graduation. I agreed to give her the time.

But alas, whereas a real friend would actually abide by the wishes of the one they cared about, I didn't. The Monday after the party, a friend that we both confided in told me that she admitted to him that she stopped loving me around the time she got her divorce. That Monday (April 27th) was the lowest spiritual point in my life. I was so completely broken. (On the plus side, Jesus found me that night.) I saw her later that week, and told her that I was going to give her a letter explaining my feelings on graduation. She wouldn't make eye contact with me. In neutral tones, she said that would be acceptable.

The next Monday was where I royally fucked up. I was doing my normal late night routine (namely, obsessing over this whole situation) when I saw that she was logged into Facebook.

I should've restrained myself. I should've stayed away. But I didn't and I was in SO MUCH PAIN. I told myself "She is my friend. She'll understand my problem. Despite all that is going on, we are still friends, right?" So I sent her a Facebook message, apologizing for bothering her, but also explaining that I was hurting and that she was the only person who could help with my pain.

And it was ignored. I continued to watch Facebook refresh itself, as she left comments and photos and took stupid little quizzes.

And I began to realize that the woman I had loved was dead, to be replaced by this person who looked like her, acted like her, and was her in every way, except for a deep apathy where I was concerned. I came to understand that she not only didn't love me, but she didn't even care about me as a human being. And I got angry. I picked up my phone and left a furious phone message.

And you know what? I slept, my first nightmare-free night in almost five weeks to that point.

But daylight made me regret what I had done, especially since I realized that I had failed as a friend. I had let my needs come before hers. So I anxiously awaited graduation day. I decided not to give her a letter, because that might make her feel cornered, like I was trying to force her to talk to me. I had decided to give her all the time she needed. Even after all of this, I still had hope.

I showed up at graduation early. I saw her, and tried to explain to her how I was sorry about my phone call on Monday, and that I was proud of her for accomplishing her goals in spite of everything, and that I was going to give her the space she wanted.

She cut me off, and told me that she DID NOT want to talk to me at all. I asked her if she would talk to me eventually, and she said "maybe". When she said that, I had the first moment of true clarity that I had had in weeks. I saw how everything had come to this point because I kept pushing. I had been so selfish, so stupid, that I had lost my best friend. All that we had been through, all the ups and downs that only seemed to make my love stronger, all of that had gotten to the point where I was not even worth a straight answer.

I stared into the gray, empty future. A future where I am alone at twenty-five, thirty, forty-five. A future where I come home to an empty house. I saw my future laying before me, bleak and sad.

And I said the only thing left to me. "I am sorry that things turned out this way," I said to my love as she got in her car and drove off.

I went home. For the first time in probably a decade, I lay on the ground like a little child and sobbed. I felt every inch of my failures, every inch of my pain. And there, curled up on the kitchen floor, Jesus came to me. He came to me and He held me and He let my grief run its course. I asked Him to watch over her, and to bless her in everything she does from now on. And I asked Him to give extra attention to her son, that he might grow up into the kind of Christian man God foresaw when He made him. And I also asked Him to give her good friends to replace me, friends that would succeed where I had failed.

I lost everything that mattered to me on Saturday, May 9th. But Christ found me again. So I suppose it is a net gain.

Life is full of loss and pain. Full of grief. But in those losses, there is a kind of victory. Because I know that I am reunited with my Savior; my Hero. And I also know that we who are in Christ have a joy that cannot be measured, cannot be taken away. "And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God, and are called according to his purpose."

I know there will come a day when she and I see each other again. And we will stand in the shadow of Christ, and our eyes will meet. And we will see all the pain we have caused one another, and we will overcome that pain. And then, we will be friends again.

I look forward to that day.

"True Love never has a happy ending, because True Love never ends." - Alexander the Great

Sunday, May 10, 2009

May 9 2009

A day which will forever live in infamy.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

I'm special cause...

I'm Gonna see Star trek later today. I'll let you know how it is.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Wolverine *****SPOILERS******

Saw X-Men Origins: Wolverine last night.
It was meh. Save your money.

The Good:
- Wade Wilson. 'Nuff said.
- Wolverine is a sympathetic character-- something I've always felt the movies managed well, despite their flaws. (The comic book Wolverine, on the other hand, is so hideously overpowered and obnoxious that I wish Galactus would show up and eat him. And shat the remains into a black hole. That ends directly in whatever passes for the bowels of Nyarlathotep.)
- They made Sabretooth an engaging and interesting character.
- The opening sequence was simply great.
- The "Only I am allowed to kill you" moment between Logan and Victor.

The Bad:
- They butchered Deadpool. He doesn't talk, is a mindless drone, has way too many powers, has swords in his arms, doesn't talk(!), wears pajama pants instead of his awesome Red/black outfit... oh, and did I mention he doesn't talk? The "Merc with a mouth" DOESN'T SAY A SINGLE WORD.
- Stryker's final plan. So, you made Wolverine indestructible, pissed him off, let him come straight to you, and when all else fails, what is your plan? "I will shoot him in the head with these special plot-device bullets, which, even though he'll heal, will cause amnesia. There's no way this plan could backfire. I mean, in a world full of people with psychic powers and dozens of abilities that can affect the brain, there's like, no chance Logan could ever get his memories back, realize how badly I screwed him, and end up impaling me and leaving me to my doom in the future, is there? I'm brilliant!"
- There are a lot of decent characters in the film, but none of them get enough screen time. They show up, drop a few one-liners or use their powers, and disappear.
- The special effects. Some scenes are very good, such as the final fight. Others look downright terrible. Logan's claws in the bathroom, most of the motorcycle scene, etc. Which leads me to the worst offense of all...

The Ugly:
-CGI Xavier. So, you have Professor X in your script, but your budget won't allow you to hire the actual Patrick Stewart. Solution? Crib some of his lines from older X-Men movies, and build a computer generated model that is supposed to make us think "young Xavier" but instead takes us plummeting into Uncanny Valley. Nice.

My final verdict? If you have the money to waste, go for it-- it's an easy, enjoyable way to blow a couple of hours. If not, save your hard earned cash for Star Trek, and wait for DVD.

"We will fight them, sir, till hell freezes, and then, sir, we'll fight them on the ice."-Anonymous Confederate Soldier

Thursday, April 30, 2009


So, I changed my major yesterday to History. It's about friggin' time, if you ask me.

Anyways, Dr. Wineland and I figgered out that I would need 46 credit hours to graduate with a B/A in History. If I play my cards right, I can get out in 3 semesters.

And take a maymester class.
And testing out of another class (U.S. History II)
And take a summer class.
And take three classes(Philosophy, World Geography, and American Government) elsewhere because while they are required, they are not available here in the next three semesters.


Man, not looking forward to it.

Oh, and I'm looking for a job this summer, too.


"Hard pressed on my right. My center is yielding. Impossible to maneuver. Situation excellent. I attack."-General Foch's telegraph to French High Command, the First Battle of the Marne

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

My life...

So I've been struggling with a lot of stuff.

A woman, mostly. I don't want to go into a lot of detail, but basically, I gave my heart to someone. It has been in her possession for as long as I have known her. Recently, she decided that my love was not good enough, nor was my friendship.

I learned very recently from a third party (trustworthy source, if you're curious) that she told that person that she did not love me anymore.

I lack the skill to describe in words what happened to me on Monday night. I can only explain (inadequately) that I literally lost all hope. Not, "OMG, this is so terrible, I'm heartbroken." I was certainly that, of course. But this was worse. Literally, All. Hope. Gone.

I had no future, no reason to live.

Let's try an analogy, shall we?

Do you remember the boat scene in Superman Returns? The Nice-Guy-Who-Is-Not-The Hero tries to do it himself, tries to save the day. But the situation is more than a mere mortal can handle. Though the attempt is noble, he fails, and Guy futilely pounds the glass as he and everything he truly cares about is sinking beneath the waves of despair, plunging away from the light of life to suffer a slow death, cold and alone. And then--

Boots on the porthole. The music builds at the arrival of the World's Greatest Hero. Where lesser men fail, He never fails. No problem is beyond His ability to handle. Even if He dies to do it, He will save the day.

The Hero lifts him out of his despair, away from death, and back into the light. He casually tears away the hatch, and looks down. And He speaks.

"Give Me your hand." The one and only-- or 'only begotten', if that's your flavor-- Superman.

There have been two points in my life where God so openly and inevitably moved that I could feel Him; only two points where He-- literally!-- saved my mortal life.

Once was in Afghanistan.
The other was Monday, April 27th, 2009.

But Christ did what no comic-book character could do: He gave me hope back.

God created me for a reason. He has brought me here, to this place and this time, to do something. What, I don't know. But I do know that if it *is* that good, that whatever I'm to do is so important that He will perform genuine miracles to make sure it happens...

I wanna stick around, and see what it is.

"Be of good cheer; for I have overcome the World." -Jesus Christ

Friday, April 17, 2009

Patience, and Freedom in a Holster ;)

I think God is teaching me patience.

Don't ask why, it's just been a rough couple of weeks. But one thing I have noticed about all the myriad and different phases I have been through, one thing remains constant: I have no control over the next step. It is always out of my hands.

So, I assume I am being taught patience. That is one of my bigger character flaws, methinks.

Hunh. Couldn't he teach me some other time? And under different circumstances?

Anyhow, it was really nice out today-- I mean, really nice. I usually don't care too much about the temperature, or the sunshine, or trees blooming and birds chirping-- at least, I didn't used to.

I know I've changed in some big, fundamental ways. But little things still get to me. Like appreciating what kind of day it is outside. I'm thinking I understand now what Sather said over there, about how the quality of life counts. It was a different subject, but I think it applies here.

I want to go camping. I want to hike, and hunt, and fish. I want to head away from the cities, away from the press of humanity. I want to see nature, and appreciate it like I never have before.

I open carried my handgun today. It was glorious. Like wearing freedom on my hip. (I'm laughing at that line, BTW.) I can't wait until I get my concealed carry license, so I can carry my Glock almost everywhere.

I don't have names for my firearms. Should I name them? If so, what?
"Stop quoting laws to us. We carry swords."-Pompeius Magnus

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Oh Noes! I'm turning into a crazy gun nut!

Not gonna lie, folks.

I went to Afghanistan, and came home with a love for firearms. On my 2-week leave, I bought a Mossberg 500 and two AR-15s, one of which I have recently sold.

When I got home for good, I bought an AK-47 and an M1 Garand. And lots and lots of ammo.

I filed my taxes on Tuesday, and in celebration of my rather sizeable return, I went and bought a handgun.

Behold, the Glock 30 SF (Short Frame), chambered for .45 ACP!

User-friendly, tough, and perfectly sized for concealed carry. I think this is probably the most expensive hobby I have ever picked up.

Buy firearms, people. And since I'm all about the gettin' of knowledge, I will now perform the end-post ritual of AWESOME Quotations from AWESOME PEOPLE.
"Loneliness. The American grizzly lives out his life alone. Indomitable, unconquered - but always alone. He has no real allies, only enemies, but none of them as great as he.
The world will never love us. They respect us - they might even grow to fear us. But they will never love us, for we have too much audacity! And, we're a bit blind and reckless at times too.
The American grizzly embodies the spirit of America. He should be our symbol! Not that ridiculous eagle." -Theodore Roosevelt, The Wind and the Lion(1975)

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Hey, I haven't forgotten!

Still got this blog, but I've been busy, so I haven't updated it. May continue in the near future.

"Now I've always liked you Byron; but You never knew when to shut up.

Even bad men love their mamas."