So I’ve been banned from commenting on a second Facebook page that I was a part of. This really isn’t news. Frankly, I shouldn’t be upset about it, but I am. Not in an “end of the world” upset, but more like a disappointed upset. Allow me to explain:
A few months back I was disallowed commenting privileges on the page Am I Libertarian? My offense? I had commented that libertarians are supposed to be more independent minded, yet there is a cult-like following and agreement with any and all things done by a Rand or Ron Paul.
A few days ago I was booted from commenting from the page Grunt Stuff because I dared challenge the moderator who said that everyone should be conscripted into the military following high school. I stated that this was a violation of the 13th Amendment, and that the draft was in effect, slavery. This isn’t appropriate for a supposedly free country.
Why do I care? Well, here’s the deal: I’m a libertarian. I’m a grunt. These are MY PEOPLE. Were I to make such a comment challenging the dogma of people who I were ideologically opposed with I would expect such behavior. Hell, were I to have spoken inflammatory or made personal attacks I wouldn’t have been upset at getting the ban hammer. But I didn’t. I expect more of my people. For a libertarian group to kick someone out for not following dogma causes me to fear for our cause. I expect the free intercourse of ideas from a libertarian.
An infantry based page should also know better. These pages are regularly being shut down by Facebook for stating things that aren’t terribly popular. They then go and rightfully complain about people being butthurt and acting like crybabies who try to shut down ideas they don’t like. But then, an infantry page, people whose ideas are being discriminated against and people who additionally should be above having their feel bads hurt go and shut down the voice of a fellow grunt, well, again, it just makes me sad and causes a little bit of my faith that we’re going to make it after all dwindle.
Actual picture posted by the admin of grunt stuff hours before banning me for stating the draft is slavery.
I concede that I expect too much of my people. I concede that I should probably just lower my standards. But that just isn’t going to happen. I simply compartmentalize these people and groups and move on in my search for those special few that keep the world spinning. They’re out there…somewhere.
Look, I get that you may not like cops. Hell, I’m generally distrusting of the police. A large portion of why I’m a defense attorney is because of my distrust of the police, along with a bad run in with Moscow PD which resulted in having my Constitutional rights violated by one of Moscow’s finest.
That said, I’m not sure not letting cops into your establishment is a good idea. There are a few reasons for this:
— it isn’t appropriately targeted. It is the idea of the police in general that was being being kicked out. Even someone as unfriendly toward the police as myself will admit that SOME police are necessary, even if the “some” is about 10% or so of what they have right now. Maybe don’t let in ones with a track record of abuse. Don’t kick them ALL out.
— You poked the bear. Do you really think this is going to result in fewer cops around your establishment? In fact, it’ll probably end up in more patrols, with people AROUND your business being harassed. You don’t poke a bear. You either kill it or you leave it alone.
— Additionally, I can’t imagine that you’re going to be a top priority to help when you actually call the cops. And you ARE going to call the cops when you need them. You run a hipster commie Portland coffee joint. You do not run CD’s Smoke Pit, with their 10% discount to people carrying firearms. CD’s will NOT need to call the cops to solve their problems. You will.
— Finally, that cop you kicked out was none other than Jim Crooker. He was my Staff Sergeant in Iraq. He’s the most honorable officer I’ve met in my life. He’s one of the precious few good men in a profession in desperate need of good men. He does however need to grow his mustache back. It was epic. I promise. Besides, I’m sure if you got the “red” in your “red and black”, those cops would just be soooooooo nice to everyone, just like in all of those other “red” countries. So, congratulations on that, YAAFM.
Though I gotta say that comparison to the civil rights movement…… I think you’d probably take that one back if you could SSgt.
Maybe I’m a fool for posting this drunk after a night of wild turkey. But I think this should be posted while still drunk. I’ll probably clean it up in a post tomorrow.
The Vietnam vet has become somethign of a running gag, “You weren’t there man!”. WEll, I just walked home alone after a night of drinking. The roads were empty. I was so god damned lonely on the walk home. I walked the streets looking like any drunk college kid. But I wan’t in Moscow, Idaho. I was in Fallujah walking alone in the dark on base. I was there at camp cupcake, al asad crying, knowing the war was over for me forever and being sad it was gone. There were nights I spent alone in Okinawa. But there, in Oki, in Iraq, in the Phillipinnes, I at least felt like others could grok me. I coud fool myself into thinking there was a mission. A goal.
In Moscow I’m a man alone. Relaly, really alone. And I guess it sounds like I contradict myself, but I’m not alone. There are wartime Marines who feel the same every night, 20-30 years removed from service. There are wartime Marines, peacetime Marines all feeling the same. There is no such thing as a real peacetime Marine. For some, being a peacetime Marine is the hardest, becaucse they didn’t get the war. They didnt’ get to fight a lava monster or on a chess board. YOU don’t know what it’s like to NOT get a kill. YOU don’t know what it’s like to get a kill. YOU don’t get us. And when we come home that leaves us very very alone. That feeling doesn’t abate.
What’s the answer? I don’t know? Maybe it’s taht warhorses should fight until they die. Maybe there’s peace in death. Maybe that’s peace n the halls fo valhalla. Mabe the only peace is in the middle of f istfight. Maybe it’s shouting cadence at passing cars. I don’t know.
Many men carry a woman’s picture in their helmet. I didn’t. I carried a woman’s picture in my flak jacket flap, next to my heart. That woman left me for another man. I won’t trust another woman. Mabe that makes me a bad person. A sexist. A misogynist. I don’t know. I just know that I’m alone. I was lonely at war. I was lonely deployed. But here, stateside, I’m actually alone. There’s a difference betwen being lonely, and being alone. And you don’t know. “you weren’t there man!” 😉 I’m not the only guy that feels this way. There are thousands of us across the country.
Sometimes I’m left wondering if the Postal Service isn’t downright clairvoyant. This is what I ran into while purchasing book of stamps 500 for the month:
I concede, this is probably a hilariously simple accomplishment for most people, but I spent the last 2 days at a total of about 7 hours, changing the brakes on my truck. Let me show you what my rotor looked like:
Either way, the truck is back in the fight! What’s neat is how much simple grade school education comes into play if only you remember it. As I’d been taught before, you need a buddy to help bleed your brakes. You loosen the bleeder valve, press the brake, close the valve. When you’ve pushed all the air bubbles out you’re set. You close the bleeder valve after you press the brake because if you don’t it’ll suck air back in.
Well, I didn’t have any friends to help me out. But then grade school science made its appearance. What if I just put the hose into a clear bottle that already had brake fluid in it? It wouldn’t be able to suck up any air. So, I set things up and press the brakes while watching the bottle. The bubbles stop and the brakes are bled.
I felt a similar feeling of accomplishment recently regarding my trash can. You know the common problem of putting a trash bag in there and the bag not going in right because of all the air trapped in there. Well, grade school science my friend. I grab a drill and make a hole. The air pushes out as the bag goes in.
Fixing computers, fixing trucks, and fixing your legal problems. BAMCIS!
So, there is a 4th Dimension. This is not to be confused with the 5th dimension:
Now, I’ve mentioned in the past that my life’s true passion is space. I’ve recently taken some time to go back and rewatch Cosmos with Carl Sagan. Old Boy can sure rock a turtleneck. Recently I watched his attempt to explain the 4th Dimension. Watch this before moving on:
This thought is horrifying. I’ve spoken at length before about how man is destined for the stars lest we damn ourselves as a species. Here’s the problem: there ARE aliens. Consider our 2D man in Flatland. Should this 3D man decide to wage war against him, 2D man hasn’t a prayer. What then of those aliens capable of operating in a 4th dimension? Even the most foolish and base barbarian capable of traveling in a 4th dimension would be able to destroy the most technologically advanced civilization we can muster.
Out there in the black is war. It is death and darkness and war the likes of which we cannot imagine. There is such incredible evil and power out there that the darkest of humans and beasts would be considered saints. Reavers are child’s play. There in the black we are but guppies in a vast ocean.
Yet we have no option to be travel out there if we wish to survive. We will have to wage into nightmares so horrid that we lack even the ability to imagine them. Still, we must go. Our science fiction authors have not yet prepared us for this. “Shoot a nuke down a bug hole and you’ve got a lot of dead bugs.” Well, bugs are out there. We will meet them, and fight them, and kill them. That’s what we’re being prepared for. That’s nothing. What’s out there is much worse than that.
Now, we’re going to have to go out there and fight. We may be able to make peace with some, but there is no such thing as peace unless YOU wage it. The wasps that live under my stairs are not at peace with me. I’m at peace with them. Should they get out of line, or really if I find myself sufficiently bored to go grab some brake cleaner, they die. Peace exists only when you are the baddest motherfucker in the universe. The odds will never be in our favor considering the vastness of the universe.
The day we kill the first civilized creature we will show ourselves as a threat to anyone and everyone out there aware of our presence. At that time we will rain hell onto ourselves. But we have to fight. There is no other option. Out there is war –dark, hellish war.
The problem compounds still. Even if you are in fact the single baddest force in the universe, you are not safe, and I’m not talking about interspecies alliances. On February 10th, 1990, Mike Tyson was the single baddest man on the planet. On February 11th, 1990 he was defeated by Buster Douglas. On that night, Tyson would have been able to kill 100 men capable of beating Buster Douglas. But he could not beat Buster Douglas. Anderson Silva is the baddest man in MMA, yet he is not unbeaten, to include his last fight. So too will it be with life beyond the stars. Even the best will not be unbeatable.
Now, this all isn’t to say we’re doomed, despite the gloomy attitude I’ve taken. Just as in this video Sagan has demonstrated that those in 2 dimensions can flesh out and understand the 3rd, even if they cannot perceive it, just as we can made a model of the 4th dimension, perhaps some day our minds will allow us the ability to enter it technologically, either by machine, or by biological enhancement. Maybe we will find a way to fight and defeat those that wish to do us harm even if our eyes cannot see them. Maybe.
But the most likely outcome is simply that if man wishes to survive, he will have to do what EVERY species will have to do, even those nightmarish civilizations that could destroy us on a whim: expand forever at a rate faster than any conquering army can overtake them. On Earth we have found war, death, and destruction. Out there it is no different. A warlike people will find death but at least they’ll have a chance. A pacifistic people will not find death — death will find them. In peace there is slavery, with survival only at the whims of their betters. Politics/War/Science/Religion — They are one. Whether we’re talking about space travel or the British Empire, Patrick Henry said it best:
“It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace– but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”
It appears that there’s been quite a gap between posting. My apologies. I took about a week off to dedicate all of my time to an impending trial. It went quite well.
Following that, my young daughter decided that the best place to leave the water in a full 32 oz Nalgene bottle wasn’t actually in the bottle, but rather in my computer. She then decided after about 4 hours of letting it stew that she should tell me. Worry not dear current (and potential) clients, fortunately I have kept a backup of all of my files on an encrypted thumb drive. After removing the back cover and cleaning up all the water, the computer worked, sans keyboard, power button, and mouse. I could abide that. One thing I couldn’t handle: the computer was so slow that it could not keep up with my typing. This resulted in me billing for only half of the work I’d done. This was a nightmare I assure you. Therefore I was not typing more than I had to.
So, deciding that I’m going to crack this thing open and fix it, I bought a full on external hard drive and moved everything over. I had entertained using Carbonite online backup but I guarantee the NSA is all over that. So, I cracked the computer open and immediately became convinced that I’m a fool that would be doing all of his work on his 6 year old backup computer.
So I grab a Blue Moon, an old toothbrush, some q-tips, and some rubbing alcohol. After about an hour of removing a screw then taking a picture with my phone to be able to go backwards, I discover what seems like a perfectly legitimate culprit:
Now, this is a good picture, but it still does not fully show you just how thick this corrosion was. It was AMAZING. Well, I got it back together. I had a small war with the ribbon connector for the keyboard. A little research on the Youtubes showed me there was a hinge. Once I flipped that it was smooth sailing.
Now I’m ready to give up the law and be a computer repairman. 100% full recovery. Okay, maybe I’ll stick with the law, but I have to tell you, ramping up to normal speed after a week of the snail’s pace I was at, well, I’d say it was a difference between night and day, but it was more like the difference of a night on Neptune and a day on Mercury.
So, the computer is up. Blogging shall resume tomorrow.
Okay, so Zimmerman was found not guilty. I didn’t watch too much of the trial because I don’t really care to get caught up in the drama, though I did watch some of it, especially voir dire, simply because I wanted to watch how the big guns run a trial for my own professional education. But here’s what you need to know legally speaking: you weren’t in the jury box. Now if you sat there for a few weeks, properly sequestered and not influenced by the disgusting display of racism by EVERYONE, and got to put your life on hold to give a man’s life a fair judgment, then your opinion matters. Otherwise, shut up. You don’t know anything.
Now the news has been hammering away at the race angle here. It was the evil white guy who we later find to be hispanic shooting a sweet innocent little black boy. When I couldn’t avoid having this trial put in my face, these are the two pictures that consistently came up:
Most popular picture of Zimmerman
Most common picture of Martin
They played it up like Zimmerman woke up thinking, “Let’s kill us some Darkies today!” Us conservatives and libertarians are all sorts of incensed at the media. We get mad and blame them for influencing everyone. We act like we’re above it. BUT, in the same breath you hear people talk about how there are going to be race riots. Guess what Mac? You think there are going to be riots because you are getting suckered in by that same media you think you can see through. There aren’t going to be any riots. But, by the same token, if the media has inflamed the black community into feeling like it’s open season on black men, wouldn’t it be justified for them to feel a need to fight back? Would you not do the same?
Here’s the deal: black people in America are kinda dumb. They’ve gotten suckered in by media hype. But they haven’t gone full retard. They aren’t going to riot. They aren’t so stupid as to think there’s legit open deep injustice sufficient to riot and turn to violence.
Here’s what’s more: white people in America are kinda dumb. They’ve gotten suckered in by media hype. But they haven’t gone full retard either. They don’t think indiscriminate killing of sweet little black boys is okay. Everyone is getting played by the media. Let’s point our fingers at them, not each other.
Here’s the last thing that needs to be considered:
People think that Zimmerman just walks out of that courtroom and shows up to work on Monday, having paid no price. Friends, the man’s life is devastated. Half of this country thinks that he is a murderer. He’ll carry that stigma, and he’ll do it without the monetary luxury OJ has. He has the burden of having a man’s death on his conscience. Also, I would be surprised if his legal defense were less than $100,000. A man had to spend a hundred grand to defend himself. He didn’t walk away unscathed.