Normal disclaimer applies... if you are easily offended or don't appreciate the semi-god like versatility of the word "fuck" please stop now, go stick your head in the sand, cover your ears and sing loudly.
"I'm gonna rape, kill, pillage, and burn;
I'm gonna rape, kill, pillage, and burn;
EAT THE BABIES!"
So as some of you have already discovered this morning I was visited by the retard fairy in the most vulgar form. My eldest daughter had to take a math placement test for Junior High, which by the way is a baby that I have been tempted to but never killed. The test was a little over an hour and instead of heading home I decided to swing by the nearest coffee place to get some coffee and mess around on the bookface. The nearest place happened to be Starbucks cause their like the cockroaches of the coffee shop world and are nearly on every fucking corner. As I stood in line patiently waiting to purchase my over-priced brown water I got my wallet out and ready. There were several people behind me and as I ordered I realized that my Military ID was not properly placed in my wallet. So after I paid, while the snot nosed kid poured my coffee I slid my ID into it's proper place. I then received my cup of wake the fuck up, tossed in my sugar, then found an unassuming comfy chair to place my ass in.
Sitting on the couch to my right was a guy in his bike leathers who was obviously the owner of the crotch rocket I parked next to was reading a paper. I was loading the wireless innerwebz connection when the woman who was behind me in line came up to me and asked me something along the lines, "Are you proud of being a baby killer?" Sorry I didn't clearly catch the first part because the buzz of the espresso machine was making my ears ring like hell and I wasn't sure at first if she was talking to me. My only response was "Excuse me." Which she then asked if I was in fact in the Marine Corps cause she had seen my ID and I responded with yes and then she elaborated on the fact the I'm apparently responsible for killing babies. I was more or less dumbfounded that I was actually being accused of killing babies but I wasn't really in the mood to satisfy her by responding. I just told her to leave me the fuck alone at which point the motorcycle guy lowered his paper and told the woman she was out of line and told her to get the hell out of there. It was kind of surreal. At this point she left and didn't even pick her skinny soy caramel vanilla latte infused with rotten cunt juice and raging bitch serum. The motorcyclist left shortly afterwards and apologized as he left, to which I informed him it wasn't his fault, it just is what it is.
This unfortunately isn't the first attack that I've experienced due to my military affiliation. I've witnessed protests at American airports going both to and coming home from combat zones. I will say that the airports did one hell of a job shielding this from us. I've been spat at in DC while running. I had my way nearly completely blocked while running into Arlington Cemetery to visit a dear friend SSgt Archie Taylor who was killed in action in Afghanistan and was laid to rest with Hero's honors in Arlington. I've had to ensure proper security for residents at the Barracks while protesters paraded up and down 8th St with their anti-war signs and we deserve to die and all of that. While on recruiting duty I went to an anti-war rally at MSU in full blues and shook the hands of many protesters and expressed my thanks for using their rights which we fight to protect. By the way, I ended up enlisting three people from that stunt. It's kind of crazy and many people think that the vast majority of our population support the troops. This is a fallacy. Although I think we are in much better shape than during the Vietnam War, there are still an ass load of people out there that should have been swallowed or left as a stain on the mattress that assault the troops with reckless abandon. The thing is that after a decade of war a lot of people are drawing a large comparison to the Vietnam War and some of our saddest moments as a Nation are beginning to repeat themselves.
For the longest time Afghanistan was the forgotten war while most American's focused on Iraq because a majority of them didn't agree with it. Those of us in Afghanistan at the time were pretty much ignored. When Doc Fralish was killed my machine gun fire in the Gownapal valley in Northeastern Afghanistan, most were bitching about Iraq. When 20 year old PFC Bertolino was buried by his grieving mother few even knew that he sacrificed his life before it even began. Brixey, Anderson, Mendoza, Gagnon, Taylor, the names that come to my mind immediately never seem to end. And it went on while most American's continued with their daily lives. The events of 9/11 a distant memory.
"Men sleep peacefully in their beds at night because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."
~George Orwell
The thing that worries me is that as this attitude seems to spread, our "baby killers" are coming home damaged. They are having problems adjusting back to that normal lifestyle they grew up with. In all honesty that lifestyle doesn't fit most of them anymore. They've grown, in someways good, in someways bad. That age of innocence was left on a battlefield in some hostile land that someone else told them they had to go to with some lofty goal of establishing a government and providing security to the people. They are told that the American people are behind them 100% while they see protests outside the gates of their base and at funerals of their fallen brothers. It's a mixed message but they keep doing what they do for those that are around them. They come home different people who have trouble relating to an old friend who is doing the same shit they've always done and worries about the petty things that no longer seem matter. They leave service with scars, both mentally and physically, that set them apart from everything else. And they silently wonder if they will ever be able to connect to anyone who hasn't done what they've done.
It is what it is and it sucks. Honestly as floored as I was that this woman accused me of being a baby killer it doesn't bother me as much as it does some of you. I've been desensitized to it and really don't feel the need to satisfy people like that with a response. There is just no way to change their point of view. They believe what they believe and they have the right to do that. I'll just take solace in the sea of uniform white grave stones that stand proudly on a hillside outside of Washington, DC that are there because someone chose to protect those rights. The loss that those stones represent is incomprehensible. The shattered lives, the broken families, the children who will never know the kind of Hero their parent was, the mother who wakes up every morning to see the picture of her only son that she will never be able to hold in her arms again, the high school sweetheart that wonders if she'll ever get over having her first love ripped from her world, the brother in arms who feels an eternal guilt because he made it home, and the leader who endlessly wonders if he had done something differently would that kid have made it home.
With those thoughts I ignore the people that think we are baby killers, that pray for our deaths, and curse the life we lead. Because, to put it simply, they don't have the spine to do it. They sit here, yelling and screaming, while some cop who may be a veteran has to protect them from the onslaught of people that they upset and offend. It's kind of ironic if you think about it.
So I know many of you were expecting this verbal onslaught towards this ass licking cunt bag, but hey, this is how I feel. I wanted to get something written down but I just don't get upset about this shit anymore. After all my government gave the Westboro Baptist Church permission to protest at our funerals so why should I argue anymore? It's a mute point. They are going to do what they are going to do regardless of what you or I say to them. All we do is add fuel to the fire when we get into a heated argument with them and in their twisted view it justifies their beliefs.
At this point I want to present something to you and you can choose to agree or disagree but hear me out and think about it. If we truly ignored the activities of the Westboro Baptist Church and stop putting everything they do on the media, would it take the wind from their sails? If they have no one to preach their shit to, won't it kind of fuck their world up? With people who share the same opinions of the woman I ran into this morning if we just ignored them, turned our back to them, and walked away, who is there to listen? If we ignore the protesters and just went about our normal business completely ignoring them, who do they protest to? Seriously think about that. Most Americans are now ignoring the war, it's in the background, rarely reported on except in defense spending, so now most people don't even realize it's still going on. If a war that has been raging for 10 fucking years can be ignored, if veteran suicides can be ignored, if PTSD can be ignored, then so can these people.
Just a thought. And on that note I leave you with this...
"From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother."
William Shakespeare
Henry V
Via con Queso
The Senator
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Weekly Beer Review!!!!
Once again we have nearly survived the week and have found ourselves at another glorious Thirsty Thursday!!! At the request of one of our Blog followers, the Spyder, our Master Brewer has done a review of one of my favorites, Arrogant Bastard. So without further adieu I give to you our weekly beer review!
The silkscreened label reads:
This is an aggressive ale. You probably won’t like it. It is quite doubtful that you have the taste or sophistication to be able to appreciate an ale of this quality and depth. We would suggest that you stick to safer and more familiar territory–maybe something with a multi-million dollar ad campaign aimed at convincing you it’s made in a little brewery, or one that implies that their tasteless fizzy yellow beverage will give you more sex appeal. Perhaps you think multi-million dollar ad campaigns make things taste better. Perhaps you’re mouthing your words as you read this.
Stone Brewing
Arrogant Bastard Ale
American Strong Ale
7.2%ABV
Appearance - A Deep Brown/Amber color with a tight creamy head that laces until the last drop. Highly carbonated as most American Style Beer's are.
Smell - Caramel and Toasted Malt with an intense smell of Pine. If you've taken a walk in an evergreen forest in early spring, you're getting close.
Taste - Big astringent bitterness with Pine and Spice! It's definitely malty but the alcohol is hidden quite well. When it's warmed up a bit (~55F) I get quite a bit more pine from the hops.
Mouthfeel - Silky-Smooth, Creamy and Frothy. It laces your palette much like it does the glass.
Overall - One of my very own personal "Gateway Beer's" with a classic Stone Brewing taste. It's big and bold with something for everyone. If you haven't had it yet, I would encourage you to try it. There is no balance to this beer as the name implies, it's simply Arrogant!
The silkscreened label reads:
This is an aggressive ale. You probably won’t like it. It is quite doubtful that you have the taste or sophistication to be able to appreciate an ale of this quality and depth. We would suggest that you stick to safer and more familiar territory–maybe something with a multi-million dollar ad campaign aimed at convincing you it’s made in a little brewery, or one that implies that their tasteless fizzy yellow beverage will give you more sex appeal. Perhaps you think multi-million dollar ad campaigns make things taste better. Perhaps you’re mouthing your words as you read this.
Stone Brewing
Arrogant Bastard Ale
American Strong Ale
7.2%ABV
Appearance - A Deep Brown/Amber color with a tight creamy head that laces until the last drop. Highly carbonated as most American Style Beer's are.
Smell - Caramel and Toasted Malt with an intense smell of Pine. If you've taken a walk in an evergreen forest in early spring, you're getting close.
Taste - Big astringent bitterness with Pine and Spice! It's definitely malty but the alcohol is hidden quite well. When it's warmed up a bit (~55F) I get quite a bit more pine from the hops.
Mouthfeel - Silky-Smooth, Creamy and Frothy. It laces your palette much like it does the glass.
Overall - One of my very own personal "Gateway Beer's" with a classic Stone Brewing taste. It's big and bold with something for everyone. If you haven't had it yet, I would encourage you to try it. There is no balance to this beer as the name implies, it's simply Arrogant!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
A Personal Rant
WARNING!
The following post is of a personal rant which has no affiliation to politics but is more about personal experience. For those of you who know me, I'm in rare form. For those of you who don't that means that this particular rant has the potential to offend even the moderately laid back person who doesn't normally get too offended. I also must caution that any child with the ability to read needs to stay the fuck away from this shit unless you want to expand their repertoire of insults and offensive material. Now if you are offended by the 7 words you can't say on television, the C-bomb without quotations, AND don't appreciate the semi-god like versatility of the word "fuck" then stop now, hit the back button, and ignore this particular blog. Everyone else, continue at your own risk, but don't say I didn't warn you.
So picture if you will a mundane office with a lone plant, some pathetic excuse for a calming Native American wall hanging, and some quasi-peaceful colorations on the chairs. The Doctor has a calm voice and a nice demeanor. For some reason all of this irritates the fucking dog shit out of me.
There I was, in that fucking place. "Have you cut down on Caffeine?" "Nope, that would be possible if I could sleep, but I'm still not sleeping so yeah, the coffee is basically keeping me functioning." Seriously, what the fuck. The nightmares, let's talk about the fucking nightmares shall we. Yes they fucking suck worse the 1970 Porn Star Super Legend, Debbie from Debbie Does Fucking Every Dick that she can get her cum guzzling mouth around! Holy shit, really. Yet instead of talking about that shit. Instead of rooting out the proverbial demons we have to work on relaxation techniques so I can go back to sleep afterwards. ARE YOU ON FUCKING CRACK! You dream about getting blown the fuck up and launched into fucking oblivion and then tell me how fucking long it takes for you to get your useless fucking heart beating at a normal fucking level! Jesus Howard Fucking Christ where the hell did you get your fucking degree? Did you wipe your ass one day and find a fucking shitty ass degree in your fucking hand? God dammit trying to calm down after that shit takes fucking hours. I can't think of myself laying on some fucking peaceful white sand fucking beach without the water turning the color of blood and end up making shit worse. Getting told I need to work on turning my mind off in a sense is fucking more retarded the Boehner thinking his dumb ass looks good with an Oompa Loompa fucking tint. My mind works at eleventy fucking miles an hour and it doesn't fucking stop. The only way to stop that shit would be to put a fucking round through it which is a pretty fucking dumb ass option. Oh great, the demons stopped throwing shit out from the subconscious but now I'm worm food. Fucking dumb cunt. Seriously think about what the fuck you're saying before you let that shit fly outta your mouth like you've been taking fucking diuretics that makes you puke like some anorexic cheerleader trying to be like a fucking dumb cum sucking gutter snipe slut from some show on the WB. At this rate you could run for President in the next election.
I don't fucking get it. I always thought the point of this shit was to figure out what's bothering a mother fucker and face that shit head on. Like when you get fucking ambushed, you don't fall back and reconsider your fucking options. You fucking gain fire superiority and assault through that fucking shit like a crack addict going after that last fucking rock rolling through a fucking crowd of unsuspecting nuns. You bowl through that shit and make it look like a strike with inside out fucking pins! Is this the only kind of help out there. I feel like I'm fucking screaming and the fucking retard fairy put my ass on mute. That fucker, you want to hear about a relaxing fucking image in my mind. It's running the next fucking window licking ass clown that cuts me off on 495 off the road, ripping his ass out of his fucking $60,000 Mercedes by his shriveled up excuse for a fucking pencil dick, then curb stomping his fucking ass American History X style. That fucking relaxes me. Oh yeah, never mind I put that I didn't have a desire to fucking mutilate the general populace when I filled out that stupid ass fucking form because I didn't want you to try to commit me because in all honesty I fucking shit to do and I can't do that shit from a padded fucking room.
Relaxation techniques. Oh and you need new meds. God knows in wars gone by that we had a plethora of fucking Lithium and Paxil to doll out to the knights of the round fucking table. King Arthur didn't pull a sword out of a stone, he pulled it out of his fucking foot but they were so fucking high they couldn't tell the god damn fucking difference. Come on, lecturing me on the fucking dangers of stopping drugs without consulting a Doctor doesn't help. Let me clue you in on something. Keeping me on anything that will raise my level of anger in any way shape or form is a danger to the general fucking populace that already piss me off numerous times a day. I can barely hold back the urge to choke the shit out of your average idiot that thinks the world revolves around them and that we can keep slinging people into combat with no ramifications. Or the politicians that covers up what's really going on by not entering shit like veterans killing themselves after they get out of the service. Great you fucking useless piece of flesh. Stop wasting my fucking oxygen and go choke on one of your fat slob lobbyists fucking wallet.
As for shrinks. Let me clue you in on something that's mildly fucking important. When it gets bad enough that we can't sleep and we can't think of anything truly relaxing without being interrupted by the demons chillin in the subconscious then fucking relaxation shit just isn't going to fucking work. It's time to gain fire superiority on the demons and tear those fuckers up like the god damn fucking exorcist. Don't feed the bitch. Kill the fucker. That's gotta be the only fucking way I can think of to do anything productive. Jesus fucking christ, don't you get it. Put us in combat and we know what to do. We've rehearsed the shit so many fucking times we can do it when we're shit housed drunk. That's the fucking point of it. We have Immediate Action drills pounded into our muscle and the most common thing after a fire fight is for guys to tell you they didn't even realize they were returning fire until they were changing a magazine. The thing is we were never taught an IA drill for shit like this. We aren't sure how to gain fire superiority on this enemy. Yet you tell us to relax. I've missed it. I was at the airport but apparently I was supposed to be at the bus station. I'm calling someone to find out where the fuck I'm supposed to go from here but apparently the "Can you hear me now?" fucker never walked by here. Either that or someone else who got fed up with his stupid fucking ass shoved his cell so far down his fucking throat that he's farting fucking ring tones.
Then again how the fuck do you communicate with someone who has no fucking idea where you're fucking coming from. Fuck. It's like I'm speaking a different fucking language and the fucking haji interpretor is more concerned with Man Love fucking Thursday instead of telling this dip shit what I'm saying. Fuck it. Lost cause.
The following post is of a personal rant which has no affiliation to politics but is more about personal experience. For those of you who know me, I'm in rare form. For those of you who don't that means that this particular rant has the potential to offend even the moderately laid back person who doesn't normally get too offended. I also must caution that any child with the ability to read needs to stay the fuck away from this shit unless you want to expand their repertoire of insults and offensive material. Now if you are offended by the 7 words you can't say on television, the C-bomb without quotations, AND don't appreciate the semi-god like versatility of the word "fuck" then stop now, hit the back button, and ignore this particular blog. Everyone else, continue at your own risk, but don't say I didn't warn you.
So picture if you will a mundane office with a lone plant, some pathetic excuse for a calming Native American wall hanging, and some quasi-peaceful colorations on the chairs. The Doctor has a calm voice and a nice demeanor. For some reason all of this irritates the fucking dog shit out of me.
There I was, in that fucking place. "Have you cut down on Caffeine?" "Nope, that would be possible if I could sleep, but I'm still not sleeping so yeah, the coffee is basically keeping me functioning." Seriously, what the fuck. The nightmares, let's talk about the fucking nightmares shall we. Yes they fucking suck worse the 1970 Porn Star Super Legend, Debbie from Debbie Does Fucking Every Dick that she can get her cum guzzling mouth around! Holy shit, really. Yet instead of talking about that shit. Instead of rooting out the proverbial demons we have to work on relaxation techniques so I can go back to sleep afterwards. ARE YOU ON FUCKING CRACK! You dream about getting blown the fuck up and launched into fucking oblivion and then tell me how fucking long it takes for you to get your useless fucking heart beating at a normal fucking level! Jesus Howard Fucking Christ where the hell did you get your fucking degree? Did you wipe your ass one day and find a fucking shitty ass degree in your fucking hand? God dammit trying to calm down after that shit takes fucking hours. I can't think of myself laying on some fucking peaceful white sand fucking beach without the water turning the color of blood and end up making shit worse. Getting told I need to work on turning my mind off in a sense is fucking more retarded the Boehner thinking his dumb ass looks good with an Oompa Loompa fucking tint. My mind works at eleventy fucking miles an hour and it doesn't fucking stop. The only way to stop that shit would be to put a fucking round through it which is a pretty fucking dumb ass option. Oh great, the demons stopped throwing shit out from the subconscious but now I'm worm food. Fucking dumb cunt. Seriously think about what the fuck you're saying before you let that shit fly outta your mouth like you've been taking fucking diuretics that makes you puke like some anorexic cheerleader trying to be like a fucking dumb cum sucking gutter snipe slut from some show on the WB. At this rate you could run for President in the next election.
I don't fucking get it. I always thought the point of this shit was to figure out what's bothering a mother fucker and face that shit head on. Like when you get fucking ambushed, you don't fall back and reconsider your fucking options. You fucking gain fire superiority and assault through that fucking shit like a crack addict going after that last fucking rock rolling through a fucking crowd of unsuspecting nuns. You bowl through that shit and make it look like a strike with inside out fucking pins! Is this the only kind of help out there. I feel like I'm fucking screaming and the fucking retard fairy put my ass on mute. That fucker, you want to hear about a relaxing fucking image in my mind. It's running the next fucking window licking ass clown that cuts me off on 495 off the road, ripping his ass out of his fucking $60,000 Mercedes by his shriveled up excuse for a fucking pencil dick, then curb stomping his fucking ass American History X style. That fucking relaxes me. Oh yeah, never mind I put that I didn't have a desire to fucking mutilate the general populace when I filled out that stupid ass fucking form because I didn't want you to try to commit me because in all honesty I fucking shit to do and I can't do that shit from a padded fucking room.
Relaxation techniques. Oh and you need new meds. God knows in wars gone by that we had a plethora of fucking Lithium and Paxil to doll out to the knights of the round fucking table. King Arthur didn't pull a sword out of a stone, he pulled it out of his fucking foot but they were so fucking high they couldn't tell the god damn fucking difference. Come on, lecturing me on the fucking dangers of stopping drugs without consulting a Doctor doesn't help. Let me clue you in on something. Keeping me on anything that will raise my level of anger in any way shape or form is a danger to the general fucking populace that already piss me off numerous times a day. I can barely hold back the urge to choke the shit out of your average idiot that thinks the world revolves around them and that we can keep slinging people into combat with no ramifications. Or the politicians that covers up what's really going on by not entering shit like veterans killing themselves after they get out of the service. Great you fucking useless piece of flesh. Stop wasting my fucking oxygen and go choke on one of your fat slob lobbyists fucking wallet.
As for shrinks. Let me clue you in on something that's mildly fucking important. When it gets bad enough that we can't sleep and we can't think of anything truly relaxing without being interrupted by the demons chillin in the subconscious then fucking relaxation shit just isn't going to fucking work. It's time to gain fire superiority on the demons and tear those fuckers up like the god damn fucking exorcist. Don't feed the bitch. Kill the fucker. That's gotta be the only fucking way I can think of to do anything productive. Jesus fucking christ, don't you get it. Put us in combat and we know what to do. We've rehearsed the shit so many fucking times we can do it when we're shit housed drunk. That's the fucking point of it. We have Immediate Action drills pounded into our muscle and the most common thing after a fire fight is for guys to tell you they didn't even realize they were returning fire until they were changing a magazine. The thing is we were never taught an IA drill for shit like this. We aren't sure how to gain fire superiority on this enemy. Yet you tell us to relax. I've missed it. I was at the airport but apparently I was supposed to be at the bus station. I'm calling someone to find out where the fuck I'm supposed to go from here but apparently the "Can you hear me now?" fucker never walked by here. Either that or someone else who got fed up with his stupid fucking ass shoved his cell so far down his fucking throat that he's farting fucking ring tones.
Then again how the fuck do you communicate with someone who has no fucking idea where you're fucking coming from. Fuck. It's like I'm speaking a different fucking language and the fucking haji interpretor is more concerned with Man Love fucking Thursday instead of telling this dip shit what I'm saying. Fuck it. Lost cause.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Thoughts on PTSD and Suicide
So after looking through article about Cpl Hunt, a Marine who tragically took his own life, I began ranting about it a bit. I was then asked to blog about it, so that's exactly what I'll do. For my light hearted readers this one is a little on the serious side. Prior to let me post two links real quick.
Cpl Hunt Suicide story on CNN
Garrett Anderson Blog - Church Bells Sing Suicide
Read those when you get a chance.
Not sure where to start so I'll dive right in with some thoughts about PTSD, which is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Let me start by saying that this is something that can affect all kinds of people. Any traumatic event people suffer can cause PTSD, bad car accidents, severe storms that destroy homes, near death from various traumatic events, etc, etc, etc. With civilians it is a little different, actually it's a lot different. I don't mean to take anything away from people who have it, but it's a different kind of beast for those who served.
In the Pentagon PTSD and it's tragic effects on the lives of so many is the proverbial elephant in the room. It's fairly silent but it cannot be ignored. Unfortunately in many ways it is also the embarrassing cousin you don't want people to know about that you more or less stick into a quiet spot at parties. For those with PTSD, it cannot be ignored no matter how hard you try. They come home from war and visit their old friends and family and quickly realize they are not the same. It's like they've gone through this dramatic change and everyone around them has stayed the same. It's hard to relate to anyone who hasn't been there. The distance grows over time and they find the ones they used to be closest to no longer understand them. A strange disconnection occurs and because of that anger begins to set in. Not only for that disconnect, but also for the friends they lost that no one else seems to care about, the things they were forced to see, hear, and do, and a load of other things that they can't explain but it won't let up. Most people that have problems can lay down and sleep peacefully and take a break from the world. For those who have PTSD, this is normally not an option. Those demons that are buried in the dark corners of their soul, the things they don't talk about, the things they avoid thinking about, the things no one would understand. Those demons. At night they come out and play havoc. The atrocities play over and over again. Relentlessly haunting them. After a while, the lack of sleep gets shrugged off and one of two things happen, they either get used to it, or they drink. Unfortunately, when they drink and sit alone, those demons come out with a vengeance. Peace of mind is unachievable and even when trying to get help it can be difficult. How can someone help you when they haven't been there? How can you trust them? What should you tell them? Do they even care? Thoughts race. Heart pounds. Ears ring. Mouth dries. They look to the sky and scream only to find that there is no sound. So with determination they push on, sometimes they manage to cope, and sometimes, a soul is lost and see's no other way to get away from the demons then to end it all. A shot rings out in the night, a family is broken, a statistic is raised, a death ignored by most, some say it's said, others never notice. But for one... they found peace.
And yet, as one soul finds peace, the rest are left wondering that unanswerable question, why? There is the common statement, "They were never the same..." The difference that people who haven't been there don't understand is that each and every one of them experienced a death of innocence. The kind of innocence that can never be returned. The kind of innocence that allows most to sleep at night is killed as the first bullet whistles by, the first rocket explodes, the first IED racks the body, as they witness their friend take that last breath... an innocence that as it dies, leaves a void that can never truly be filled with anything else.
................................................
There is a problem and no one knows how to effectively fix it. One of the things that happens, haphazardly, is referred to as the "Warrior Transition Process." Following combat operations before being sent home each person fills out a questionnaire to see what they've been exposed to. It is supposed to be used to give medical professionals a rough guess for that individuals potential to develop problems. Then once these combat vets arrive home they are exposed to a plethora of "adjustment" classes, most of which are a joke. At 30 days after returning they are screened with another questionnaire asking about various PTSD indicators. Again at 60 days, then 90 days, then 6 months, then a year, and finally at 18 months. Following the 18 month survey they are left on their own if nothing is pointing to PTSD. If anyone hits too many indicators they are sent to a psych for evaluation and possibly further treatment. At least that's how it is supposed to work. Sounds good and looks good written up in some order.
Unfortunately those who developed this plan neglected to include a few basic principals. The Marines are with a unit right around 3 years. In those three years they do at least two 7 to 9 month deployments. The dwell time when they aren't deployed is usually around 9 months. During those 9 months they are training for the next deployment which may entail being out in the field or away for a few months at some other facility getting specialized training. Then they go on pre-deployment leave, then they are back in country. After their second and in some cases third deployment one of two things happen. They say their good byes to the Corps or they execute orders to a new command.
Going off of personal experience, when I returned from Afghanistan I missed my 30 day eval. Oops, I was at a Marine Corps advanced school so I wasn't around for that. Oh, and I was still there for that 60 day eval as well. That 90 day eval, yeah I was on leave for that cause I missed my original leave block for said school. I was there for my 6 month eval which I didn't complete because the jerk of a Doctor decided to lecture me about the importance of these evals. So half way through I told him to go fuck himself and left. Then my year eval came up, oh shit, I was in Iraq for that one. I returned from Iraq and wasn't even with the unit long enough to get the classes because I was executing orders. Once I had been to my new unit for a month or so I got flagged for an eval. I figured it was probably the 60 day for Iraq. Yet as I filled out the paperwork and spoke with the Doc I was informed that I did the paperwork wrong because I put Iraq and I hadn't been there. Ummmmm.... You see apparently this was my 18 month return from Afghanistan screening. These guys had no clue I had also been to Iraq. Well I guess I hit a few too many "you're going nuts" indicators and I was referred to Behavior Health at Bethesda Naval Medical Center. I managed to get an appointment about 2 months later and when I sat down with the psych he listened gave me some anti-depressants (which I didn't understand cause I wasn't depressed) and then gave me some Valium to help me sleep on the real bad nights. Then I was given the time and place for some group therapy that I should go to. Worked out great considering it went on Wednesdays at 1000 and at the time I was working nights. I was then referred to TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury) testing, I guess having your brain slapped around the inside of your head during explosions was bad for business. Roughly two months later I managed to get the appointment for the TBI testing where a Neuro psychologist informed me that I didn't have PTSD that I was just infuriating. Which probably wouldn't have happened had they informed me that morning that I would be taking the same series of tests three fucking times! Either way after calling them for months without being told the results I finally threw in the towel and said fuck it. Nowadays I got to the point where I did a self referral back to the new and improved behavior health unit because I can't sleep. That and I want to make sure everything is documented. The system is getting better but the evaluation process is still broken. I still have yet to have even one eval for my Iraq deployment. The only way I was really able to receive help was constantly asking until I was able to find out about the self referral program they recently started. Yet for someone who is worse off than me, would they have that kind of resolve? I don't know.
Then another thing to consider is what about those that left the Marine Corps. They don't go through evals and the VA is hard to deal with at times. As for the VA, before I blog about them I want to do a little research as to how their system works for this and how long it actually takes guys to get help that they need. I don't want to go completely off on them without backing up some of my rants.
At any rate.... yeah. Sometimes when that innocence dies, the Marine dies with it only to return home a shell of their former self. The suicide comes as a result of it. It's almost like they were already dead and can't find a reason to come back to like.
Yeah...
Until next time.
Cpl Hunt Suicide story on CNN
Garrett Anderson Blog - Church Bells Sing Suicide
Read those when you get a chance.
Not sure where to start so I'll dive right in with some thoughts about PTSD, which is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Let me start by saying that this is something that can affect all kinds of people. Any traumatic event people suffer can cause PTSD, bad car accidents, severe storms that destroy homes, near death from various traumatic events, etc, etc, etc. With civilians it is a little different, actually it's a lot different. I don't mean to take anything away from people who have it, but it's a different kind of beast for those who served.
In the Pentagon PTSD and it's tragic effects on the lives of so many is the proverbial elephant in the room. It's fairly silent but it cannot be ignored. Unfortunately in many ways it is also the embarrassing cousin you don't want people to know about that you more or less stick into a quiet spot at parties. For those with PTSD, it cannot be ignored no matter how hard you try. They come home from war and visit their old friends and family and quickly realize they are not the same. It's like they've gone through this dramatic change and everyone around them has stayed the same. It's hard to relate to anyone who hasn't been there. The distance grows over time and they find the ones they used to be closest to no longer understand them. A strange disconnection occurs and because of that anger begins to set in. Not only for that disconnect, but also for the friends they lost that no one else seems to care about, the things they were forced to see, hear, and do, and a load of other things that they can't explain but it won't let up. Most people that have problems can lay down and sleep peacefully and take a break from the world. For those who have PTSD, this is normally not an option. Those demons that are buried in the dark corners of their soul, the things they don't talk about, the things they avoid thinking about, the things no one would understand. Those demons. At night they come out and play havoc. The atrocities play over and over again. Relentlessly haunting them. After a while, the lack of sleep gets shrugged off and one of two things happen, they either get used to it, or they drink. Unfortunately, when they drink and sit alone, those demons come out with a vengeance. Peace of mind is unachievable and even when trying to get help it can be difficult. How can someone help you when they haven't been there? How can you trust them? What should you tell them? Do they even care? Thoughts race. Heart pounds. Ears ring. Mouth dries. They look to the sky and scream only to find that there is no sound. So with determination they push on, sometimes they manage to cope, and sometimes, a soul is lost and see's no other way to get away from the demons then to end it all. A shot rings out in the night, a family is broken, a statistic is raised, a death ignored by most, some say it's said, others never notice. But for one... they found peace.
And yet, as one soul finds peace, the rest are left wondering that unanswerable question, why? There is the common statement, "They were never the same..." The difference that people who haven't been there don't understand is that each and every one of them experienced a death of innocence. The kind of innocence that can never be returned. The kind of innocence that allows most to sleep at night is killed as the first bullet whistles by, the first rocket explodes, the first IED racks the body, as they witness their friend take that last breath... an innocence that as it dies, leaves a void that can never truly be filled with anything else.
................................................
There is a problem and no one knows how to effectively fix it. One of the things that happens, haphazardly, is referred to as the "Warrior Transition Process." Following combat operations before being sent home each person fills out a questionnaire to see what they've been exposed to. It is supposed to be used to give medical professionals a rough guess for that individuals potential to develop problems. Then once these combat vets arrive home they are exposed to a plethora of "adjustment" classes, most of which are a joke. At 30 days after returning they are screened with another questionnaire asking about various PTSD indicators. Again at 60 days, then 90 days, then 6 months, then a year, and finally at 18 months. Following the 18 month survey they are left on their own if nothing is pointing to PTSD. If anyone hits too many indicators they are sent to a psych for evaluation and possibly further treatment. At least that's how it is supposed to work. Sounds good and looks good written up in some order.
Unfortunately those who developed this plan neglected to include a few basic principals. The Marines are with a unit right around 3 years. In those three years they do at least two 7 to 9 month deployments. The dwell time when they aren't deployed is usually around 9 months. During those 9 months they are training for the next deployment which may entail being out in the field or away for a few months at some other facility getting specialized training. Then they go on pre-deployment leave, then they are back in country. After their second and in some cases third deployment one of two things happen. They say their good byes to the Corps or they execute orders to a new command.
Going off of personal experience, when I returned from Afghanistan I missed my 30 day eval. Oops, I was at a Marine Corps advanced school so I wasn't around for that. Oh, and I was still there for that 60 day eval as well. That 90 day eval, yeah I was on leave for that cause I missed my original leave block for said school. I was there for my 6 month eval which I didn't complete because the jerk of a Doctor decided to lecture me about the importance of these evals. So half way through I told him to go fuck himself and left. Then my year eval came up, oh shit, I was in Iraq for that one. I returned from Iraq and wasn't even with the unit long enough to get the classes because I was executing orders. Once I had been to my new unit for a month or so I got flagged for an eval. I figured it was probably the 60 day for Iraq. Yet as I filled out the paperwork and spoke with the Doc I was informed that I did the paperwork wrong because I put Iraq and I hadn't been there. Ummmmm.... You see apparently this was my 18 month return from Afghanistan screening. These guys had no clue I had also been to Iraq. Well I guess I hit a few too many "you're going nuts" indicators and I was referred to Behavior Health at Bethesda Naval Medical Center. I managed to get an appointment about 2 months later and when I sat down with the psych he listened gave me some anti-depressants (which I didn't understand cause I wasn't depressed) and then gave me some Valium to help me sleep on the real bad nights. Then I was given the time and place for some group therapy that I should go to. Worked out great considering it went on Wednesdays at 1000 and at the time I was working nights. I was then referred to TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury) testing, I guess having your brain slapped around the inside of your head during explosions was bad for business. Roughly two months later I managed to get the appointment for the TBI testing where a Neuro psychologist informed me that I didn't have PTSD that I was just infuriating. Which probably wouldn't have happened had they informed me that morning that I would be taking the same series of tests three fucking times! Either way after calling them for months without being told the results I finally threw in the towel and said fuck it. Nowadays I got to the point where I did a self referral back to the new and improved behavior health unit because I can't sleep. That and I want to make sure everything is documented. The system is getting better but the evaluation process is still broken. I still have yet to have even one eval for my Iraq deployment. The only way I was really able to receive help was constantly asking until I was able to find out about the self referral program they recently started. Yet for someone who is worse off than me, would they have that kind of resolve? I don't know.
Then another thing to consider is what about those that left the Marine Corps. They don't go through evals and the VA is hard to deal with at times. As for the VA, before I blog about them I want to do a little research as to how their system works for this and how long it actually takes guys to get help that they need. I don't want to go completely off on them without backing up some of my rants.
At any rate.... yeah. Sometimes when that innocence dies, the Marine dies with it only to return home a shell of their former self. The suicide comes as a result of it. It's almost like they were already dead and can't find a reason to come back to like.
Yeah...
Until next time.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Beer Review
Ladies and Gentlemen it's Thirsty Thursday! Today is the day that on your way home from work you should be selecting the alcoholic beverages that you plan to consume with friends or by yourself this weekend. It'a also a day to partake in a little pre-weekend cheat to sample the various kinds of frothy goodness that you acquired for the weekend. Our blog's official Brewmaster, Danny, has provided us another review for our sampling pleasure. So without further adieu...
Indigo Imp
Spring
Belgian Style Saison
6.8%ABV
Appearance - A Golden Straw color with just a bit of haze from the yeast. Only slightly carbed with a very small bright white head that leaves almost as quickly as it came.
Smell - Farmhouse, Phenolic, Fruity, Mango & Papaya all come to mind when I stick my nose deep in to the glass.
Taste - Bright and Crisp with Pineapple and Mango Fruits in the mid-palate, moving to a farmhouse tasting finish.
Mouthfeel - Light and Dry with a slight acidic bite.
Overall - A good Saison from a great local production brewery. There aren't too many beers from Indigo Imp that I don't like. Dangerously drinkable for a 6.8%ABV beer, something nice and refreshing for a hot summer day! We will be getting one of those soon right??!!
Indigo Imp
Spring
Belgian Style Saison
6.8%ABV
Appearance - A Golden Straw color with just a bit of haze from the yeast. Only slightly carbed with a very small bright white head that leaves almost as quickly as it came.
Smell - Farmhouse, Phenolic, Fruity, Mango & Papaya all come to mind when I stick my nose deep in to the glass.
Taste - Bright and Crisp with Pineapple and Mango Fruits in the mid-palate, moving to a farmhouse tasting finish.
Mouthfeel - Light and Dry with a slight acidic bite.
Overall - A good Saison from a great local production brewery. There aren't too many beers from Indigo Imp that I don't like. Dangerously drinkable for a 6.8%ABV beer, something nice and refreshing for a hot summer day! We will be getting one of those soon right??!!
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Things that Piss me Off
My normal disclaimer applies. I promise once I get the time to do so I'll update my disclaimer on the main page for all to see.
So the last week or so has been kind of rough for me. Not like I'm down in the dumps or anything like that but its been rough because I've had to interact with some people that just generally piss me off. After yesterday I truly feel the need to rant. I figured I'd talk about some stuff that really pisses me off. Now I will say that this is a rather short list because a list of things that piss me off in its entirety would be long and even with my crazy ass writing I'm sure you'd eventually get bored and potentially realize how big of an asshole I truly am. So here we go...
1. People who take shit too literally.
Let me explain what I'm talking about. Although my vocabulary is fairly extensive I have my only little pet words and sayings that can be fairly offensive to people who take them literally. I was recently corrected at work because I referred to something as being "fucking retarded". You see one of the many civilians that I am now forced to work with has a son with special needs. Amazingly enough, she was not the one who was offended and upset about my statement. It was some other douche bag who apparently felt she had to jump on the high horse to protect her co-workers feelings, or some shit like that. Anyways she came out of her cubicle faster than a fat kid going to an all you can eat buffet for the Friday night special. She then made the mistake of insulting me and berating me for using such a "foul and insensitive term" in the general presence of a woman who had a son with (using her words on this one) "a mental handicap". Amazingly enough I didn't go high and to the right. Actually I laughed which enraged her even more, but before she could open her mouth I told her to shut it and listed. I explained that saying someone has "a mental handicap" was far more offensive than referring to a stupid decision that someone made as "fucking retarded". In truth, that is the proper use of the word. I defined retard for her as being slow, a hindrance, something that causes a delay, or something that generally impedes progress of any kind. I then informed her that I never use the term to describe anyone who has a condition that requires special assistance. I then explained that the reason I don't is because the vast majority of people with special needs I've met are kinder, have better social skills, and far more determination than your average person who in my opinion is waste of space. So when I refer to someone as a "retard" or "retarded" it's because they have the capability to be better but the CHOOSE to be lazy, worthless, useless pieces of shit that suck the life out of this country. I can only imagine that once she picked her jaw up off the floor that she went back to her cubicle and cried on the inside because she realized I was referring to her. Either way, I went back into my corner and set to work. But the point is, people like that PISS ME OFF.
2. People who spread their religious beliefs of non-religious beliefs for that matter.
Let me start by saying I am not referring to religious people in general. You have a constitutional right in this country to believe in what ever the fuck you want and not be persecuted for your beliefs. I have gone to some pretty crazy places to support and defend that right and for the love of fuck I'd do it again. I'm talking about the people that walk up to me for no apparent reason and want to talk to me about Big Daddy, Little J, and the Holy Spook, or Yaweh, or Allah, or fucking dancing god damn fairies! OR even better, why none of the above should be believed in at all. Listen, I don't fucking give a rats ass what you believe in or what you don't believe in. I have the constitutional right that I've fucking fought for to be left the fuck alone and not have you persecute me for not believing in the same shit you do. I am not going to hell, I am not going to burn at the stake, and I'm not a fucking infidel or whatever the fuck else. This is the problem with people like this. With their insistence that they have the only true religion they end up persecuting others for not having the same beliefs. It's fucking, dare I say, RETARDED. Religion has caused more fucking blood shed throughout history than anything else. Think about it! Seriously, think about it! The Inquisition, the crusades, the spread of Islam, the Jews slaying Christians, the Romans slaying both at different points in history, homegrown Christian terrorism, Nazi's (yep, at one point could old mustache boy hisself was a devote Christian who developed a hatred of Jews and Gypsies cause they believed different shit), extreme Islam (you know recent terrorist events), the Taliban killing fucking all kinds of people cause they weren't devote enough, the area around India, the area around Israel, holy fuck me running backwards we could go on forever with this shit! Bottom line is we are a cultural melting pot that have the protected right to believe in what ever the fuck we want and you shouldn't fucking bother people who don't believe in the same damn thing. Last thing on this, Jehovah's Witnesses. HellfuckingO! Do you realize that you are perpetrating a fucking religion that by your own retarded beliefs make it nearly mathematically impossible for you to go to Heaven! That's the stupidest shit I've heard of. "There are nearly 8 million of Jehovah's Witnesses alive today, I'm sure a few million have already died since they started and only 144,000 are going to Heaven. Ummm....calculating... FAIL.
3. People that live in a fucking bubble.
Ok, so I understand that some people aren't big into politics or world events and only vaguely keep track of what's happening outside of their own little world, and to an extent that's ok. However, those that are completely clueless as to what's happening in this country and our world in general need to go to their local coffee shop and order the giant sized cup of WAKE THE FUCK UP! I met someone in DC of all places who was clueless as to why the Government was about to shut down last week. How the fuck do you not have a clue as to what's going on? Met someone else that was confused as to why gas prices are skyrocketing. Wake the FUCK up! It's people like this that allow our fucking crooked useless politicians to take advantage of the very people the represent and basically do what ever the fuck will benefit them the most. Unfortunately there are so many of these mother fuckers out there that the politicians know they can get away with some of this bull shit. To illustrate this point I was on my phone the other day on hold waiting to speak with someone from my Congressman's office. When someone finally answered I referred to myself as one of his constituents and asked where he stood on the budget crisis. After getting a bullshit explanation and conveying my opinion on why he should be doing more I hung up disgusted. Then the person standing next to me in our roped off smoking area tapped me on the shoulder and asked what a constituent was. I was absolutely floored. I explained it like this. "Who is your representative in Congress? Oh, you don't know, well this is how it works there brain child, that person that was voted as the congressional representative in your district, well you are one of his or her constituents because you gave permission for them to represent you in our government." The response I received, "Well that doesn't make sense, who came up with that system?" At this point I had to walk away to avoid going on a murderous rampage. Here is my point, the people that are like this are killing our system of government. It's by the people for the people. Without the people shit doesn't get done for the people, it gets done for the politicians. That is not how this shit is supposed to work. So I challenge each and everyone of you, when you meet a person like this try to educate them and get them to participate. Well that's if you can avoid the urge to choke the ever living shit out of them.
Okay, I think that's enough for now. Feel free to comment, groan, moan, bitch, complain, call me an asshole, whatever. At least you'd be participating.
Via con queso
The Senator
So the last week or so has been kind of rough for me. Not like I'm down in the dumps or anything like that but its been rough because I've had to interact with some people that just generally piss me off. After yesterday I truly feel the need to rant. I figured I'd talk about some stuff that really pisses me off. Now I will say that this is a rather short list because a list of things that piss me off in its entirety would be long and even with my crazy ass writing I'm sure you'd eventually get bored and potentially realize how big of an asshole I truly am. So here we go...
1. People who take shit too literally.
Let me explain what I'm talking about. Although my vocabulary is fairly extensive I have my only little pet words and sayings that can be fairly offensive to people who take them literally. I was recently corrected at work because I referred to something as being "fucking retarded". You see one of the many civilians that I am now forced to work with has a son with special needs. Amazingly enough, she was not the one who was offended and upset about my statement. It was some other douche bag who apparently felt she had to jump on the high horse to protect her co-workers feelings, or some shit like that. Anyways she came out of her cubicle faster than a fat kid going to an all you can eat buffet for the Friday night special. She then made the mistake of insulting me and berating me for using such a "foul and insensitive term" in the general presence of a woman who had a son with (using her words on this one) "a mental handicap". Amazingly enough I didn't go high and to the right. Actually I laughed which enraged her even more, but before she could open her mouth I told her to shut it and listed. I explained that saying someone has "a mental handicap" was far more offensive than referring to a stupid decision that someone made as "fucking retarded". In truth, that is the proper use of the word. I defined retard for her as being slow, a hindrance, something that causes a delay, or something that generally impedes progress of any kind. I then informed her that I never use the term to describe anyone who has a condition that requires special assistance. I then explained that the reason I don't is because the vast majority of people with special needs I've met are kinder, have better social skills, and far more determination than your average person who in my opinion is waste of space. So when I refer to someone as a "retard" or "retarded" it's because they have the capability to be better but the CHOOSE to be lazy, worthless, useless pieces of shit that suck the life out of this country. I can only imagine that once she picked her jaw up off the floor that she went back to her cubicle and cried on the inside because she realized I was referring to her. Either way, I went back into my corner and set to work. But the point is, people like that PISS ME OFF.
2. People who spread their religious beliefs of non-religious beliefs for that matter.
Let me start by saying I am not referring to religious people in general. You have a constitutional right in this country to believe in what ever the fuck you want and not be persecuted for your beliefs. I have gone to some pretty crazy places to support and defend that right and for the love of fuck I'd do it again. I'm talking about the people that walk up to me for no apparent reason and want to talk to me about Big Daddy, Little J, and the Holy Spook, or Yaweh, or Allah, or fucking dancing god damn fairies! OR even better, why none of the above should be believed in at all. Listen, I don't fucking give a rats ass what you believe in or what you don't believe in. I have the constitutional right that I've fucking fought for to be left the fuck alone and not have you persecute me for not believing in the same shit you do. I am not going to hell, I am not going to burn at the stake, and I'm not a fucking infidel or whatever the fuck else. This is the problem with people like this. With their insistence that they have the only true religion they end up persecuting others for not having the same beliefs. It's fucking, dare I say, RETARDED. Religion has caused more fucking blood shed throughout history than anything else. Think about it! Seriously, think about it! The Inquisition, the crusades, the spread of Islam, the Jews slaying Christians, the Romans slaying both at different points in history, homegrown Christian terrorism, Nazi's (yep, at one point could old mustache boy hisself was a devote Christian who developed a hatred of Jews and Gypsies cause they believed different shit), extreme Islam (you know recent terrorist events), the Taliban killing fucking all kinds of people cause they weren't devote enough, the area around India, the area around Israel, holy fuck me running backwards we could go on forever with this shit! Bottom line is we are a cultural melting pot that have the protected right to believe in what ever the fuck we want and you shouldn't fucking bother people who don't believe in the same damn thing. Last thing on this, Jehovah's Witnesses. HellfuckingO! Do you realize that you are perpetrating a fucking religion that by your own retarded beliefs make it nearly mathematically impossible for you to go to Heaven! That's the stupidest shit I've heard of. "There are nearly 8 million of Jehovah's Witnesses alive today, I'm sure a few million have already died since they started and only 144,000 are going to Heaven. Ummm....calculating... FAIL.
3. People that live in a fucking bubble.
Ok, so I understand that some people aren't big into politics or world events and only vaguely keep track of what's happening outside of their own little world, and to an extent that's ok. However, those that are completely clueless as to what's happening in this country and our world in general need to go to their local coffee shop and order the giant sized cup of WAKE THE FUCK UP! I met someone in DC of all places who was clueless as to why the Government was about to shut down last week. How the fuck do you not have a clue as to what's going on? Met someone else that was confused as to why gas prices are skyrocketing. Wake the FUCK up! It's people like this that allow our fucking crooked useless politicians to take advantage of the very people the represent and basically do what ever the fuck will benefit them the most. Unfortunately there are so many of these mother fuckers out there that the politicians know they can get away with some of this bull shit. To illustrate this point I was on my phone the other day on hold waiting to speak with someone from my Congressman's office. When someone finally answered I referred to myself as one of his constituents and asked where he stood on the budget crisis. After getting a bullshit explanation and conveying my opinion on why he should be doing more I hung up disgusted. Then the person standing next to me in our roped off smoking area tapped me on the shoulder and asked what a constituent was. I was absolutely floored. I explained it like this. "Who is your representative in Congress? Oh, you don't know, well this is how it works there brain child, that person that was voted as the congressional representative in your district, well you are one of his or her constituents because you gave permission for them to represent you in our government." The response I received, "Well that doesn't make sense, who came up with that system?" At this point I had to walk away to avoid going on a murderous rampage. Here is my point, the people that are like this are killing our system of government. It's by the people for the people. Without the people shit doesn't get done for the people, it gets done for the politicians. That is not how this shit is supposed to work. So I challenge each and everyone of you, when you meet a person like this try to educate them and get them to participate. Well that's if you can avoid the urge to choke the ever living shit out of them.
Okay, I think that's enough for now. Feel free to comment, groan, moan, bitch, complain, call me an asshole, whatever. At least you'd be participating.
Via con queso
The Senator
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Weekly (Possibly) Beer Review
Okay, for your reading and alcoholic pleasure I have enlisted a good friend, Danny Wyszynski, to write a beer review. I'm thinking of trying to get a weekly review out of him, but we'll see how that goes.
Why is he qualified you ask? Well let me tell you! Other than being a qualified alcoholic for serving in the Marine Corps during peace time when our area of operations covered any bar we may come across, our rules of engagement involved consuming what ever sinister beverage was in arms reach, and combat was fought attempting to make it across the Mexican boarder on two feet! You must understand, we were not allowed to crawl across the boarder. Besides the epic qualifications bestowed upon him from Marine Corps service he also spends gratuitous amounts of time sampling and brewing his own frothy creations. So without further ado, I offer you this weeks beer review!
Brasserie Dieu du Ciel!
Rigor Mortis
Abbey-style brown ale
10.5%ABV
Belgian Quadrupel
Appearance - Dark, Murky brown in color with an off-white head that dissapates quickly, not highly carbed as is typical with this style.
Smell - Spice and Citrus with a biy of Clove, no hop aroma of which to speak. There is also a faint sweet Caramel in the nose.
Taste - Clove and Spice take the lead with a big hit of Caramel to follow. The back end is hot with alcohol and the finish is quite dry.
Mouthfeel - Light and silky smooth, the lack of carbonation does not at all detract from the beer.
Overall - This was a $5.99 bottle of beer purchased at the local bottle shop by my Wife as a Birthday present, and I have to say I'm very pleased with
my gift! Rigor Mortis is a nice solid Belgian Quad that I would certainly love to drink again despite the high price tag. If you like Belgian Style
beers this is a must try!
Why is he qualified you ask? Well let me tell you! Other than being a qualified alcoholic for serving in the Marine Corps during peace time when our area of operations covered any bar we may come across, our rules of engagement involved consuming what ever sinister beverage was in arms reach, and combat was fought attempting to make it across the Mexican boarder on two feet! You must understand, we were not allowed to crawl across the boarder. Besides the epic qualifications bestowed upon him from Marine Corps service he also spends gratuitous amounts of time sampling and brewing his own frothy creations. So without further ado, I offer you this weeks beer review!
Brasserie Dieu du Ciel!
Rigor Mortis
Abbey-style brown ale
10.5%ABV
Belgian Quadrupel
Appearance - Dark, Murky brown in color with an off-white head that dissapates quickly, not highly carbed as is typical with this style.
Smell - Spice and Citrus with a biy of Clove, no hop aroma of which to speak. There is also a faint sweet Caramel in the nose.
Taste - Clove and Spice take the lead with a big hit of Caramel to follow. The back end is hot with alcohol and the finish is quite dry.
Mouthfeel - Light and silky smooth, the lack of carbonation does not at all detract from the beer.
Overall - This was a $5.99 bottle of beer purchased at the local bottle shop by my Wife as a Birthday present, and I have to say I'm very pleased with
my gift! Rigor Mortis is a nice solid Belgian Quad that I would certainly love to drink again despite the high price tag. If you like Belgian Style
beers this is a must try!
Saturday, April 9, 2011
The Budget and the Almost Government Shut Down
Okay so as with any post, my disclaimer still applies. Which by the way will be shown in full under my blog name in full, well once I finish it anyways. So let me restate the portion that seems to have struck some as funny... "if you are easily offended or do not appreciate the versatility of the word "fuck" you may want to stop now."
So off to the ramblings.
I find myself a little irritated over this budget thing. Not just because of the fact that had the government shut down I would have been without pay until they unfucked themselves but more along the lines of how people are reacting to it.
Let me just point out one thing for you to ponder on. The Democraps held both the House and the Senate last fiscal year. Now by all accounts they were supposed to come up with a budget before fiscal year 2011 began, which was in October. So isn't part of the blame to be placed on them? I mean, really. Mid-term elections come in, the Tea Party gets their foot in the door and BOOM, now they have the opportunity to cause problems with this budget which should have been in place months ago. So for everyone bitching about those Republicants and Tea Baggers, well the Democraps gave them the opportunity to throw in their two cents.
Now I'm not taking sides here. I can't stand either party because I think way too many on both sides aren't really looking out for the best interests of their constituents. I've written my Congressman and my Senator on numerous occasions for various different things. Each time I have requested a written response. How many have I received you ask? Well let me tell you! Not one. Not a single written response for any of my questions, groans, moans, or complaints. Not even a one liner that says something like, "We are reviewing your question and will get back to you when we have an answer." NOTHING. In my eyes this is an epic fail. I understand that the man in charge there may not have the time to reply to each of his constituents, HOWEVER, (pause for effect) they have a staff that should be able to speak on their behalf. So the fact that apparently I'm not important enough or do not deserve a response really gets under my skin.
I digress. As for the budget crisis. If we think this one is bad, lets see how it goes when they start negotiating the fiscal year 2012 budget. Which if they have a thread of common sense between any of them they will start working on immediately following the passage of this one. It's going to be a whopper. I would encourage all of you to pay close attention to it and more importantly pay attention to the riders that they are trying to throw in with it. A rider is like a condition. For example, a big bone of contention with this one was, Planned Parenthood. The condition or rider, for government money going to Planned Parenthood was that they were not allowed to spend any federal funds on anything that could be diverted or used for abortions. Now we all know that even though Planned Parenthood claims not to fund abortions directly that they have a means of indirect compensation. With that being said this rider can pretty much defund Planned Parenthood. This is just one example. These are the things that stop progress in negotiations.
The spending conditions do more than that, they divert funds and in some cases force the receiving party to spend these funds a certain way. An example of this was the billions of dollars the Pentagon received to purchase back up engines for the Joint Strike Fighter. The back up engines cost nearly as much as the plane with the original engine. This was one of those moves where members of congress were trying to push money into their state because that's where components of the back up engine were made. As a side note, the Pentagon tried at several junctions to turn this money away because they didn't want or need the back up engine. Pretty crazy huh?
So as we move from one budget crisis to another I encourage you to pay attention to what our politicians are doing. It doesn't matter if you voted for them or not. They are there representing you in the government.
At this point I'd like to take the time to advertise for a friend of mine who is one of the developers of a political website that is for the people, not the politicians. Here you can participate with ranking and finding out information about your respective politicians. Now this site is still under construction because there is a LOT of politicians, but still check it out.
http://www.politicasts.com/
Thats all for now....
Oh yeah, this blog is still in it's infancy and I'm working on it along with many other projects so be patient and keep checking it out.
The Senator
So off to the ramblings.
I find myself a little irritated over this budget thing. Not just because of the fact that had the government shut down I would have been without pay until they unfucked themselves but more along the lines of how people are reacting to it.
Let me just point out one thing for you to ponder on. The Democraps held both the House and the Senate last fiscal year. Now by all accounts they were supposed to come up with a budget before fiscal year 2011 began, which was in October. So isn't part of the blame to be placed on them? I mean, really. Mid-term elections come in, the Tea Party gets their foot in the door and BOOM, now they have the opportunity to cause problems with this budget which should have been in place months ago. So for everyone bitching about those Republicants and Tea Baggers, well the Democraps gave them the opportunity to throw in their two cents.
Now I'm not taking sides here. I can't stand either party because I think way too many on both sides aren't really looking out for the best interests of their constituents. I've written my Congressman and my Senator on numerous occasions for various different things. Each time I have requested a written response. How many have I received you ask? Well let me tell you! Not one. Not a single written response for any of my questions, groans, moans, or complaints. Not even a one liner that says something like, "We are reviewing your question and will get back to you when we have an answer." NOTHING. In my eyes this is an epic fail. I understand that the man in charge there may not have the time to reply to each of his constituents, HOWEVER, (pause for effect) they have a staff that should be able to speak on their behalf. So the fact that apparently I'm not important enough or do not deserve a response really gets under my skin.
I digress. As for the budget crisis. If we think this one is bad, lets see how it goes when they start negotiating the fiscal year 2012 budget. Which if they have a thread of common sense between any of them they will start working on immediately following the passage of this one. It's going to be a whopper. I would encourage all of you to pay close attention to it and more importantly pay attention to the riders that they are trying to throw in with it. A rider is like a condition. For example, a big bone of contention with this one was, Planned Parenthood. The condition or rider, for government money going to Planned Parenthood was that they were not allowed to spend any federal funds on anything that could be diverted or used for abortions. Now we all know that even though Planned Parenthood claims not to fund abortions directly that they have a means of indirect compensation. With that being said this rider can pretty much defund Planned Parenthood. This is just one example. These are the things that stop progress in negotiations.
The spending conditions do more than that, they divert funds and in some cases force the receiving party to spend these funds a certain way. An example of this was the billions of dollars the Pentagon received to purchase back up engines for the Joint Strike Fighter. The back up engines cost nearly as much as the plane with the original engine. This was one of those moves where members of congress were trying to push money into their state because that's where components of the back up engine were made. As a side note, the Pentagon tried at several junctions to turn this money away because they didn't want or need the back up engine. Pretty crazy huh?
So as we move from one budget crisis to another I encourage you to pay attention to what our politicians are doing. It doesn't matter if you voted for them or not. They are there representing you in the government.
At this point I'd like to take the time to advertise for a friend of mine who is one of the developers of a political website that is for the people, not the politicians. Here you can participate with ranking and finding out information about your respective politicians. Now this site is still under construction because there is a LOT of politicians, but still check it out.
http://www.politicasts.com/
Thats all for now....
Oh yeah, this blog is still in it's infancy and I'm working on it along with many other projects so be patient and keep checking it out.
The Senator
Friday, April 1, 2011
Welcome to my Ramblings
Hello Peoples!
Well if you are here you have decided to follow my various ramblings. So I figured I would spin some of you up into the know. First off I wanted to explain where "The Senator" came from in the first place. Back in the high school years several of us got together and created our very own social group. In actuality we had a social group but we decided to name the social group for the hell of, so The Society of the Y.A.K. People was born. We all had our own snazzy titles and the four founders had official like positions. Mine was High Keeper of the Sacred Text because I was rarely if ever without something to write on or in. The Senator is actually, Senator Ron "Chico Suave" Lopez. There is this singer named Poe who at the time I was a fairly large fan of. In one of our local beatnikish papers, Art Voice, there was an interview with Poe which I had read. The name of the interviewers chihuahua was Senator Ron "Chico Suave" Lopez, and I felt that I had to immortalize this little dog because during the interview he jumped into Poe's lap and did what only a dog could do. He stuck his little face right smack into Poe's crotch! Therefore in honor of this heroic animal I took his name as a pen name of sorts so he would always be remembered as long as I was around to write.
Now that you know where the pen name came from let me tell you what to expect with this blog. First, expect my opinion and non-sensical ramblings thrown out for your reading pleasure on an irregular basis. Second, expect writings of old being pulled out of the archives and transcribed for you on occasion. Third, I'll toss out some quotes that I enjoy although you may have no idea what it means, that's ok. Other than that I am going to transfer some of my bookface posts to this blog.
Other than that, just enjoy and stand by.
The Senator
a.k.a.- Senator Ron "Chico Suave" Lopez
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