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

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