I hate OPSEC

We are doing some really amazing things out here. And by "we" I mean other people while I stand by with my mouth agape watching. The problem is that I don't dare mention specifics now. I mean amazing things are happening and I don't even feel comfortable telling my Mom over the phone.

Eight days!

I started this post just before midnight my time and it was going to be titled "Nine Days!" I was also going to say something cute about this being the story of a girl who looked so sad in photographs... (No cool points for naming this band, it's too easy.)
Let us talk of something else other than my impending arrival in the states.(eight days! I mean eight days! Are you excited? Can you tell I am excited?) We could discuss bioethics, for instance.
Scientists in South Korea (familiar territory for me) have recently discovered ways to speed creation of stem cells. These men and women have opened up the biggest can of worms in science today. Stem cell research on new stem cell lines has been banned in the United States. To understand the debate you must understand what stem cells are and their huge potential. My definition is taken from the National Institute of Health's website.

Stem cells have the remarkable potential to develop into many different cell types in the body. Serving as a sort of repair system for the body, they can theoretically divide without limit to replenish other cells as long as the person or animal is still alive. When a stem cell divides, each new cell has the potential to either remain a stem cell or become another type of cell with a more specialized function, such as a muscle cell, a red blood cell, or a brain cell.

In layman's terms that means that means that stem cells are magic. In effect, scientists hope to one day make little pills or an injection that would heal injuries like Wolverine does in comic books. Really. Stem cells are of special interest to people with damage to their central nervous system - Parkinson's disease, spinal cord injuries, etc - because ordinarily nerve cells never grow back. Scientists hope that stem cells can grow to replace any cell in the body.
The problem with stem cell research is that to collect stem cells you usually have to destroy an embryo to do so. If you believe that abortion is ok, then by all means destroy away. However, if you believe that abortion is evil, heinous, wicked, and just a plain wrong thing to do, destroying embryos would definitely leave you with a guilty conscience. (I happen to think that abortion is wrong.)
The policy of allowing no stem cell research to be conducted on new cells was great for keeping me and the abortion crowd happy - no tiny babies were harmed by our drug - but stifled promising research - Christopher Reeves couldn't get doctors to grow him a new spinal cord in a test tube.
The technique used by the South Korean scientists could raise some other interesting issues as well. A cursory glance at the article makes me think that the Koreans did something that looks suspiciously like cloning. They created embryos that were a "genetic match" from skin cells and donor egg cells with no DNA information. Sounds like cloning to me, but I am not a geneticist or even a biologist. The scientists involved ruled out any possibility of cloning humans, noting that animal trials yielded more failures than successes. As a rule, most people are against human cloning; however, in unscrupulous hands, who is to say that it couldn't be done?
So do we allow the research? What's wrong and right in this situation? I am of the belief that evil never begets good. Well intentioned evil is still evil - one should never do something wrong in the process of doing a good thing. But in the face of what stem cells could do for mankind... I really want to close my eyes and say "Destroy those babies!" Luckily, I am not in charge.
No tiny babies were harmed in the making of this blog.

Freak Dancing and the finer points thereof

I am going on leave soon and as a male of a certain age and certain inclinations I like to hit the dance floor on Friday and Saturday nights and my mind has begun to dwell on the topic of "freak dancing". If you don't know what freak dancing is you need to watch "Beauty Shop"and fast forward to the scene with Alicia Silverstone dancing in it. The only thing I have to say in reference to that scene is "Whoa".
Watching Silverstone's performance brought back many fond memories for me. There was the time in AIT with the drunk soldier who handled the family jewels after telling me that she thought I was "too cool"; as a substitute teacher when I caught two students freak dancing in the back of the class; and on spring break once with this one girl who had a special gift for the freak dance (I don't know how to describe it in a PG-13 way other than to say OH MY GOD).
Honestly, freak dancing is simulated sex on the dance floor. I totally understand why so many people are so strongly against freak dancing. A cursory google search brings up some interesting stories: Public High schools banning freak dancing, concerned feminists speaking out against overtly sexual dances, and rebellious teens organizing semi-orgiastic unchaperoned dance parties. Shoot, in Waco, Texas, Baylor University had banned all forms of dancing until recently. Now, they only disallow lewd gyrations.
Well, in 19 days I hope to do some "lewd gyrations" of my own.

1000 crunch challenge

I was reading Muscle and Fitness magazine the other day and I saw an interview with Ryan Reynolds about the training he did to get in shape for Blade Trinity and he said that he did 1000-1250 crunches or crunch variations every day. I don't know if you have seen the movie and I can't find any pictures of his midsection but the dude is jacked. I am jealous. I mean even scrawny comedians are in better shape than I am. What the...?
I have 20 days till I go home on leave and every day until I leave I am going to do 1000 crunch or crunch variations. So there. Before and after's will be posted at A Thousand Words.

Behold the competition.

Saddam's lobbyist is dead

Edward von Kloberg III used to do some lobbying work for the world's leading despots including yours and my favorite dictator, Saddam Hussein. He leaped to his death from a window in a castle in Europe.

You might be a POG

Civilians tend to think everybody in the military leads a rough life and spread their sympathy accordingly. I am here to tell you that nothing could be further from the truth. The military can easily be separated into two groups of people: "grunts" and "pogs". Grunts hate pogs and pogs despise grunts. Grunts think that pogs are silly and weak; pogs think that grunts stupid and brutish. Neither group is entirely right.
Grunts lead lives that lend credence to the quote by Thomas Hobbes:

The life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.

Grunts generally hold combat MOS's (Military Occupational Specialty) and tend to absorb the majority of casualties. Usually grunts are infantry. I have lived with grunts and have been an honorary grunt for a while. Being a grunt sucks. No, you simply don't understand, being a grunt sucks. Grunts stink, fart, curse, tell inappropriate sexual jokes, and did I mention they stink? There is a reason for the smell and the cursing - life as a grunt can be unbelievably hard. Grunts have an incredible capacity for suffering. Grunts will go without food, sleep, and water for hours. I have personally known grunts who were unable to shower for three months due to their living conditions. Grunts improvise - grunts don't need toilet paper, they'll wipe with strips cut from their t-shirts; grunts can fix anything with duct tape and a pocket knife; grunts make modern war possible.
Pogs exist to make the grunt's job possible. Pogs ferry supplies, provide medical care, handle communications - just about everything other than shooting people. Pogs live in comparative luxury and safety. Pogs will often wear civilian clothes in a combat zone; or at the other extreme, will enforce strict military disciplines normally reserved for garrison like the ironing of uniforms or organized physical training. (We don't dare gather for organized PT here. If a mortar were to strike at the instant we chose to do PT an entire platoon could be disabled. If that were to happen to the medics who would treat us?) Pogs have no conception of what real combat is. Pogs are necessary but often annoying to the grunt.
Pogs dominate the military. In fact, there are entire branches of the service filled with nothing but pogs - like the Air Force or Navy for instance. It's hard to be a grunt from the safety of an aircraft carrier or an air base. Pogs should be happy with what they are, they are the true face of the modern military. For whatever reason, pogs don't like to acknowledge what they are and their purpose in life. I am going to help them. The following is a set of warning signs to let the reader know if he/she is a pog. (Good chances are if the reader is a "she" she's a pog. It's not prejudice, females aren't allowed in combat... Yet.)
You might be a pog if you never leave the front gate. You might be a pog if you've been using porcelain toilets the past year. (The world is a grunt's toilet) You might be a pog if you take a hot shower every day. You might be a pog if you have a Combat Infantry Badge or a Combat Medical Badge sewn on when you haven't left Iraq yet.(Combat Infantry Badge, abbreviated CIB, is the badge that infantry men wear when they have seen combat, been shot at. The Combat Medical Badge, abbreviated CMB, is what medics wear when they provide treatment under fire. Other MOS's should get their own badges.) You might be a pog if you actually live within walking distance of a tailor shop. You might be a pog if you are neither a medic or an infantry man and you have a CIB/CMB sewn on. You might be a pog if you really care that much about the wearing the badge in the first place. You might be a pog if you eat catered meals in an air conditioned tent everyday. You are a pog if you iron your uniform in Iraq. (Sorry, but you are.) You are a pog if you have never had a bloodstain on your uniform. You are a pog if you never get dirty. (Even our Battalion Commander gets dirty out here.) You might be a pog if you are not suffering from combat stress. You might be a pog if you actually go to therapy for your combat stress. (Grunts like to think of themselves as strong silent types.) You might be a pog if this post offends you. In fact, you might be a pog if you are reading this - grunts only get online to check email and look at half naked women.
*Disclaimer: Pogs are great people who handle a million different things and make the military go; their only problem is that they think they are grunts. I only seek to promote greater understanding between the two factions.

Possible mozilla fix

Thanks to Ryan, I think the problems for Mozilla based browsers are gone. For most of you that means nothing. For the others well, let me know if it works.

Advanced minds in primitive bodies

I reserve the right on this blog to post random things from time to time and this post is one of those random things. I can never be "off topic" since there is no topic.
I was on guard today when I had an epiphany. I don't have epiphanies often but I have guard often and guard affords one time to think. I mean what else are you going to do when you are in a guard tower alone for hours at a time? (Well, there are other things but we can discuss that at a later time.)
I think many of the problems of modern society are directly related to the fact that basic human physiology was designed to survive primitive conditions. The traits that enabled man to survive primitive conditions can go haywire when faced with modern life.
For instance, consider obesity. I believe that the reason so many Americans are fat is that the human species original primitive instinct was to eat everything fat and sweet in sight. Fats and sugars are easy calories - they provide the most calories for the least effort. Assume that humans commonly lived through famines; individuals that maximized their caloric intake were most likely to survive. The easiest way to maximize caloric intake is eat nothing but fat and sugar. The logical thing for primitive man to do was to love the taste of fat and sugar. In modern times, gorging oneself on fat and sugar isn't the healthiest thing to do; but now you can blame your primitive ancestors for your sweet tooth.
Primitive brains lead people astray when it comes to sexual differences also. There is a theory that women only developed prominent mammary glands when humans began walking upright. Before, men were drawn to the curve of the female buttocks from behind. When humans began walking upright, the buttocks were no longer at eye level. Women began attracting their mates with enlarged mammary glands that looked like buttocks in front. To this day, the average male cannot distinguish a butt crack from cleavage. Something to think about when donning low cut attire. I'd also like to say that when a man leers at a woman's bosom, he is only succumbing to the instincts that kept him alive in primordial days.
I could go on, but I'd probably lose my female audience.
Why is any of this relevant to my situation? Why was I thinking about any of this? Life in the 1-503D was pretty primitive for a while. I think even cave men bathed more and ate better than we did for a while. Also, a man's ideas about sex tend to regress in the absence of women.
*Disclaimer: I don't believe in evolution but I think that evolutionary theory provides a useful framework for thinking about the development of living organisms. Most of my ideas came from theories having their basis in evolution.

More pictures

New pictures on A Thousand Words.

Template Problems

As many of you know I recently changed the blog template and my apologies go out to those who surf the web with Netscape, Firefox, or any Mozilla based browser. Especially since you can't read what I just wrote. Sorry, I am working on fixing that right now.

I think I'm paranoid

For those who are curious about why I don't take advantage of this grand opportunity and blog about the realities of this conflict let me explain: OPSEC. If I were to do hard news or talk about in detail what goes on here I am deathly afraid that terrorists could read my website and gain valuable information. Maybe I am paranoid, but then I am living in hostile territory in what is reputed to be the most dangerous place on earth, surrounded by random gunfire, frequent explosions, and suicide bombers. Wouldn't you be worried if I wasn't a little paranoid?
Two points if you can name the music group I am referring to in the title.

The difference between men and women:Totally irrelevant factoid

It's important to remember that genetically men have more in common with a male chimpanzee than they do with any woman. (A little something I learned from a book called Why Men Don't Have a Clue and Women Always Need More Shoes: The Ultimate Guide to The Opposite Sex.)

New Pictures

There are new pictures up at A Thousand Words.

I strive for the sublime by embracing the trivial

This blog has no aspirations to be controversial. My goal was specifically to escape my chain of command's notice and fly "beneath the radar". By several accounts, I have failed. Miserably, I am told. I don't know.
The good news is though that nobody is planning to shut me down. I think it is because of my tendency to avoid things like my opinion of the commanders latest decision, the dramatic success of our latest mission, the dramatic failure of our latest mission, or casualty reports.
Instead, I'd rather tell you I bought clothes for leave! Look at what I got!

• Michael Kors citron yellow piqueé polo shirt - size L - Citron Yellow
• Glorious Shirt Company multi-color cotton patterned button front shirt with jersey back panel - size L - Multi
• Allen B. white embroidered sport shirt
• Glorious Shirt Company blue & white cotton multi-pattern button front shirt - size L - Blue / White
• Michael Kors black wool 2-button blazer - size 44 R - Black
• Ralph Lauren: Polo RRL cream corded cotton jean-style jacket - size L - Cream
• Ralph Lauren: Polo green tint wrap around sunglasses - size One Size - Gold / Green
• John Varvatos cream ribbed crewneck cotton t-shirt - size L - Cream
• Kenneth Cole New York black leather 'In Plain Sight' oxfords - size 12 - Black

All purchased from Bluefly.com at discounted (yet still exorbitant in the eyes of my incredulous colleagues) prices. Note that I didn't buy pants. I was joking before that I was going to spend all my time on leave at a nudist colony since I didn't have clothes. Now, I'll just have to ensure that I am only photographed from the waist up.

Comments at Will!

I don't know who cares and how much, but comments work now. I'd puzzled over them once before and gave up, but now I think I have the situation handled. Comment at will!

Spring Diet fever

I sympathize but don't necessarily fully understand the pain women suffer when they diet for and eventually buy a new swimsuit. (I am not buying a new swimsuit, well, at least I am not buying a bikini. Or... I don't know maybe I will.) I do have some idea of how hard it is to lose two inches off one's waist. I understand, because that is what I am trying to do.
I checked the other day, and my measurements are as follows:

• 41" chest
• 14" right bicep
• 14 1/4" left bicep
• 24" thighs
• 15" calves
• 34 3/4" waist.

Most unsatisfactory! I mean, look at that waist! I am too young to become a blimp. (My apologies to those who are larger than that. You are not blimps. You're ummm... I'll get back to you on that.) Granted, I do tip the scales at 200+ lbs now but I consider that to be a feeble excuse. I have never been this fat before. I've also never been stronger. The bottom line is that I am carrying way too much fat on my stomach.

Why do I suddenly care that I might be turning into the Pillsbury doughboy? Who I am trying to impress? Well, I am reasonably certain that I am coming home on leave in May, and it is absolutely imperative that I be in tip-top shape to impress the girls at home. Surely, there is no more worthy cause for concern? What could be more important than a young man's never ending quest for female companionship?

I burn massive amounts of calories, and I do a small amount of aerobic exercise. (skipping rope) The problem is my rapacious appetite. I find it nearly impossible to not eat everything in sight. I tend to not discriminate when I snack and I will eat whatever is available. Thanks to my faithful readership, my loving family, and my fellow soldiers, ramen has been in steady supply. (THANKS!!! I really enjoyed the ramen folks.)

I could do more intense cardiovascular/aerobic workouts, but the problem is that aerobic exercise destroys the products of weightlifting. Long distance runners are usually very skinny because their muscle eats itself. Aerobic exercise eats muscle. So more than 15 minutes of anything is out. Besides, extended running hurts my back, because (you guessed it!) I am so much heavier. Also, running in our installation incurs the risk of being struck by a mortar round. Hemorrhage due to shrapnel wounds and blast injuries is extremely bad for one's physique.

The only solution is to cut calories. Ramen is definitely out. I've also renounced refined sugar (for a while anyway) and all other junk foods. I am still going to eat everything I can at regular meals. I am just cutting back on snack foods.

Random Thanks

I am going to thank a few random people who have sent me soccer balls. I don't have a comprehensive list because that would entail organization, which is not a word I would use to describe this soccer ball endeavor. "Ambitious" is a word I might use, but definitely not "organized".
Thank you, Karen, Ryan, Jason, Judy M, Kathleen, Jon, the children and teachers at the Monteverde Friend's School in Central America, Claire, and most of all Colleen - without whom I would probably have very few soccer balls. I am sure there are people I have left out but I did mention that these were randomly selected givers right?
I estimate I have received 50 soccer balls so far and I am hoping for more. I've distributed the soccer balls through the battalion chaplain to the various line companies and the demand is enormous. I simply can't give them enough and the children always come back for more. I could easily give twice as many away and still not have enough. Thank YOU!

American Economy modeled as gas

A random blog article about how economists are modeling all of the economy but the top 3% as a gas. You have to read it if only for this quote, "...as macroeconomist Makoto Nirei puts it, the gas model "seems to me not like an economic exchange process, but more like a burglar process. People randomly meet and one just beats up the other and takes their money."

Boy do I feel foolish

So my hand isn't broken. My trip to see the Navy doctors and get X-rays was revealing. I got off on the wrong foot by forgetting my consultation paperwork, and compounded my problem by being a little insolent with the Physician's Assistant on duty. Oh well.
I got an overwhelming response on the Informal Reader Survey. Three people responded. They were overwhelmingly female and middle aged, so I am redoing the page with pink accents with 24 point font so they don't have to wear their reading glasses when they check out the page. (I am allowed to tell that joke because both my parents are middle aged and very near-sighted. My vision is better than 20-20 now but when I turn 40 I will instantaneously go blind.)

Football Is More Violent Than War

Who would have guessed that I would sustain the first broken bone of my life playing football in Iraq? Three or four weeks ago, when I ceased to be a line medic and moved into the aid station, I played a football game and fell on my hand knuckle-first. I remember that immediately my pinky knuckle was deformed, swollen, and very painful. I thought immediately "Something is wrong." Then of course I thought, "It'll heal". If it had been anyone else's hand I would be in trouble with the medical platoon for not providing care.
So I was lifting weights the other day and mentioned how stiff my pinky finger had become to another medic and showed him the lump underneath my pinky knuckle. He suggested a condition known as "Boxers' hand". Boxers often break their metacarpals from punching with the smaller knuckles on their hand. I showed my hand to our doctor and he immediately concluded that I had broken my hand.
So I am probably facing surgery sooner or later to fix the problem. Things were going so well...

Places to Go Before I Die

I place a lot of emphasis on wish fulfillment in my life. I want to be able to grow old and not regret wasting my youth. I mean one can be responsible, get a job and get married, or one can party oneself cross-eyed. It is obvious what route is most attractive.
I was reading Stuff magazine (or was it Maxim? They are so similar that I think they might as well combine forces and stop competing. They could call the new magazine Stuffxim, pronounced "stuff 'em") the other day and saw a list of party spot world-wide to visit for New Year's Eve. Of course, last New Years Eve I had a hot date with a dude wielding an AK-47 and wearing a long beard so I didn't visit any of the aforementioned reveling rendezvous. I did start thinking though, where do I want to go party while I am still young enough to enjoy it? Well here's my list:

• Ibzia, Spain. It's only the wildest party in all of Europe, if E! Entertainment is to be believed. I think I read a statistic somewhere about how 70% of all females who visited with their boyfriends cheated while they were there. I am certainly not taking a date when I go.
• Sydney, Australia. I was planning to go while I was in Korea because of the things I have heard about Aussie women and the pictures I have seen of Australian beaches. The number one reason? Nicole Kidman and Elle McPherson are Australian. I've been trying to figure out where to go to meet lonely 6 Ft. tall super model types all my life.
• Cozumel/Mazatlan/Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. I spent 4 hours in Mexico during spring break, and I saw enough to know that anything goes in Mexico. Anything.
• Las Vegas, Nevada. I want to see Sin City while there is still sin left to be committed.
• Los Angeles, California. I am not really interested in seeing the stars. I have been watching that TV show The OC and I think that LAX is the closest airport to Newport Beach.
• The French Riviera. Because I want to see French girls and there are no beaches in Paris.
• Reykjavik, Iceland. Hip people worldwide are flocking to Iceland because of the great night-life, the northern Lights, and the hospitable people. I am hip right?
• Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. One Word. Carnivale!
• Bora Bora, South Pacific Islands. Because everyone says they want to go to Hawaii. I want to see the South Pacific, but I also want to be original.
• Miami, Florida. Ok, so maybe Will Smith isn't the greatest rapper alive; but I think he was onto something with that song.
• Hedonism, Jamaica. The name says it all.
• Benin, Nigeria. Because Dallas, TX is home, but Nigeria is Home.

Informal Reader Survey

If you don't know, I have been plotting a massive redesign for sometime, but it occurred to me that I haven't included a major constituency in the decision-making process - you the reader. I don't gather usage statistics and for all I know all I may have ten readers total (but they all send great care packages!) but I do want all ten of them to suggest how the site might better serve them.
At the same time, please don't be offended if I completely ignore your wishes and do something completely different. It isn't callous disregard - it's... I'll get back to you on what it is, but I do understand one thing about my readers. The majority of my readers stay interested because my situation is the same or similar to that of one of their loved ones. When I was in AIT, a woman read my site and told me of her fiance who was going to Fort Sam Houston. She lived in fear that he would succumb to the many temptations to be found in San Antonio. Another woman wrote me when I was in Korea about how her son was also in Korea witnessing and probably experiencing moral depravity with "Drinky girls" in Tongducheon. Now that I am in Iraq, I get family members of deployed soldiers.
I am trying to say that in six months I will have new readers because I will have started a new adventure. I don't know what happens to the old readers, but chances are they stop reading. I can't even get my family and friends to read all my blog posts.
I need email from as many readers as possible about why they read, who they are, and what they like or don't like. I don't share reader's names or their names.

Rock Star's Websites

When putting together your own "rock star" website it is necessary to study actual rock star websites, which I have been doing in my spare time. I discovered that a lot of Rock Stars have old, poorly updated websites. It looks like many people put a lot of money and work into developing flashy cutting edge websites when the web was new and then discovered how much was required to maintain such a website. A lot of sites have flashy graphics and music but no content to back up the site's pretty looks.
My goal and what I mean by Rock Star website, is a site that looks expensive but is designed without any expensive parts. The site should be colorful, energetic, and look as if it might fly off the screen but without breaking the budget of the guy who built it.
I do know these things:

• I hate rectangles.
• I like irregular borders.
• I like not having any borders.
• I like Jenniferlopez.com.
• My liking Jennifer Lopez's site has more to do with the picture on the left side of the site than it has to do with the design.
• I don't look as good with my shirt off as J.Lo. does. (But I do look real good, let me assure you).
• I hate sites that make you download stuff to see them.
• I hate sites that only work on certain browsers.
• I think really cool designs should also look really simple.

Those are my design principle right there, in a nutshell.

While you ponder my rules of good design check out www.firstrock.net.

I finally got a programming job

After an exhaustive search for employment I have finally found a job doing programming work. The catch is that I had to join the Army become a medic and forget half of what I knew about programming to get the job. My newest task in the medical platoon is to replace the old platoon database, which is a formidable endeavor. The old database had 47 fields in a table and 816 records. "Daunting" is a good word to describe my job for someone whose only experience with databases comes from a 3 credit class he took in college almost 3 years ago. To further complicate matters, the database could probably use some Visual Basic expertise, another class I was blowing off on a regular basis 3 years ago.
Despite all the cobwebs in my brain, the database is actually coming along fine. It's going better than my last project, building a heating rack for iv fluid with balsa wood and duct tape, which didn't really go that badly either if you ask the people who matter most.
My next big project for the platoon is building the platoon website. I am going to make us all look like rock stars. That is as soon as I can get someone to send me some decent image editing software...

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day!
That is, if you actually want to enjoy Valentine's Day. I mean, Valentine's Day is just another one of those commercial, market driven holidays that corporate America uses to separate honest people from their money.
Ok, So I am a little bummed about not being able to hook up on Valentine's Day. Sue me!

Do You Remember The Time I Almost Got Married?

I don't know whose been reading for how long and how long those peoples' memories are, since I no longer gather any usage data; but I was curious if anyone remember the story I told about the "soldier medic" at Fort Sam Houston who wanted desperately to get married. This is what I said:

...Like this girl I know who is getting chaptered out of the Army due to health problems. She realized that she will be without any benefits or employment so she is trying to get married to someone for the health benefits! It will happen to because she is an attractive girl. I was tempted myself - if only for the chance to demand that she do her "wifely" duties...

Well I have trouble resisting a good joke, so I called her and suggested that we should get married for the money. So of course, she said yes. Luckily, I was hanging out with other medics who were able to administer CPR. She went on to say that she had always liked me and that she would be happy to do her "wifely duty". I had of course lost all powers of speech.
I bring this story up because she e-mailed me the other day and told me how her life was going, which was pretty well actually. She's working and will soon be returning home to attend college.
I still can't help but wonder "what if?" What's more, if I was married I'd have had priority for leave dates. What if?

My Name is Idaho, and I am an Addict

My name is Idaho Edokpayi, and I am addicted to television. I may have said something about being addicted earlier, but you must understand that my addiction is serious. I think I would be less obsessed if I was mainlining heroin every thrity minutes. I have never watched much on tv until I discovered the wonders of broadcast television the summer I graduated college. I watched an entire season of "The Real World: Chicago" in one day. Suddenly, I understood what it was to actually enjoy a program and want to watch new episodes in sequence.
The next year, I discovered the magic of DVD's and Tivo all at once. I am now forever spoiled. My life is over.
It's that simple.
When I am not watching "Smallvile", "Roswell", or lately "The OC"; I am watching "Buffy, The Vampire Slayer", or possibly, even worse, playing Soul Calibur 2. Soul Calibur 2 has to be what you might get if you took crack and digitized it and put it in a video game. There are times that I am not even enjoying playing the game, but my fingers won't stop and I can't seem to drop the controller. I don't even know what other games I own on my Xbox anymore.
This is bad because I am a soldier... in an infantry battalion. I am surrounded by fellow addicts! When somebody isn't saying, "Hey, Doc let's watch some OC" or "Hey, Doc let's watch some Buffy" they are telling me that I couldn't beat them at Soul Calibur if they all had no thumbs and were forced to play the game by pecking the buttons with their noses. Wrong thing to say.
What more can I say? I love television. Just not on TV anymore - I've got my brother, an electrical engineering major, working on technology to send the visual impulses directly into your brain. You'll be able to watch hours of TV in seconds. Just think of the possibilities!
TV is a heck of a drug.

Is This Thing On?

Somebody recently emailed me to ask why I hadn't posted in two weeks and I nearly replied that I thought I had. I looked at the blog and I haven't. I have been posting by email and I am not sure if I have been careless or if there is a problem but I know of at least one email post that still hasn't shown up.
If you have been checking the blog and thinking horrible things, well they are not true. I would never lie about my feelings for your sister... Wait wrong apology. I am alive and well as those of you who have been e-mailing know very well. I am sorry and I'll pay more attention to whether my posts actually get on the blog in the future.

When it Rains it Pours

My location in the Sunni Triangle looks like a monster truck rally, which isn't far from the truth when you consider how much modified up-armored and armored HMMV's weigh. Winter here can be cold, damp, and dreary - which is to say that it is probably preferable to the only other season we have here, which is summer. We have tracked mud on every square inch of floor indoors and most boots have changed color from tan to brown. The majority of my platoon is complaining of cold symptoms, and I am suffering the exact symptoms but I hate medication, ironic since I am the medic. 

For those of you who are interested in my soccer ball project I have a few helpful guidelines:

• You may send the balls deflated.
• Size doesn't matter, but I would recommend a size 5 ball. (The kids aren't picky)
• I am not affliated with any charitable or  international aid organizations.
• I make up the rules as I go.

Keep those things in mind and we can have a beautiful relationship. I am going to post pictures of smiling children with soccer balls at this location , my new photoblog, A Thousand Words. There will also be pictures of daily life in Iraq.

That's all for now, I am leaving to go take my mudbath.

So You Need Proof?

When I came up with the idea of giving Iraqi children soccer balls I always knew in the back of my mind that I would need proof that I was actually giving the balls to the children. I originally intended to take pictures as proof, then I I realized that may not be adequate. However, I don't have much in the way of other options. I intend to take the pictures and post them on a photoblog (as yet unnamed but coming very soon) but in the end, I'll have to ask you to just trust me. The address the soccer balls are sent to is an APO address in Iraq and honestly, other than perhaps a soccer coach, who wants a million soccer balls in the mail?  I suppose it could be part of some diabolical plan to take over the world, but what are the odds?

Meestah Give Me Football!

I would never explicitly ask for something for myself on the blog. I might however drop subtle (ok not so subtle, or rather really obvious) hints. However, for somebody else, I don't feel the slightest compunction making my demands known.

What I want are footballs, known to you as soccer balls. The never ending refrain of the Iraqi children's singsong pleas is "Meestah give me football!" They ask for other things of course, pencils, pens, crayons, stickers, coloring books, papers, money, watches, sun glasses, etc. But they always ask for soccer balls. And I never have any. So I aim to set this situation right. So please, send me your balls. Soccer balls, I mean. (perverts)

This is how it works. If you send me an email, I'll email you back instructions on where to ship your soccer balls. If you already know my address feel free to just go ahead and send them.

Thanks! You many now return to your regular programming.

Combat Carpenetry

If you had been near my location in Iraq recently, you would have thought it was a construction site. Well, my location is a construction site; but it's also a fortified position, bristling with heavy machine guns and booby traps. People passing by simply do not realize how close they come to death everyday.

The most popular pastime recently has been carpentry. I even tried my inexperienced hand at some minor projects. Thus far I've built a platform for exercise and a floor for my room, and both were remarkably similar in construction. I built the platform so I could do calf raises without breaking my neck on the balcony or the stairways and I put the floor in so I didn't have to walk in the dirt in the little room I call home. I am satisfied with the results, even if the results are lopsided and unfinished. Finished wood where I live is unheard of. It wouldn't go with the decor.

I took some pictures recently (THANKS DAD!) to send home to the folks and my mom upon seeing the pictures immediately wanted to know where my gun was. I replied that it was strapped to my leg like it always is. It seems that the family is afraid I'll get shot because I am not carrying a big enough gun. I just want to say, don't worry about me - I have 20 body guards and they are all packing heat. Me worry? Nah!

Ever wake up on the wrong side of the bed or sleeping bag in my case? Today, I was in such a nasty mood that I would have punched Mother Teresa in the ovaries if I had seen her.

Check out the Bravo Company website. http://www.b-co.1-503rd.org/

Gotta Go!

It's a New Year

I have no resolutions except to do everything I can to return to the States in one piece. I should think of something funny to say but some days you just don't feel it. I WANNA GO HOME!

Happy New Year

Happy New Year to you and yours!
Umm by the way, unless the Army is willing to relax its strict rules of behavior and allow shenanigans like what is depicted in Starship Troopers (co-ed showers, sex in the tents) I am very much not in favor of women in the infantry. I'll explain what brought this up another time.

stuff not to send a soldier

My platoon has been getting a lot of packages because of the time of year and we appreciate the sentiment and the good things the people of America have sent us. Some things have been cause for head scratching or bemused laughter. For instance, if the address says anything about "Infantry Regiment", "Inf.", or anything resembling the word "Infantry" feminine hygiene products will not be appreciated. We feel much the same way about vitamin supplements meant for women, and magazines like "Redbook" aimed at an older female audience. Men in an infantry line company really do not care to read about why Julianne Moore believes that no one should get plastic surgery. (We would tend to believe that many people are in dire need of immediate emergency plastic surgery, but that's just us.)

Also don't send us water. I am amazed that the water survived the trip without springing a leak but, a single bottle of water is a mockery more than anything else. If the Army can deliver my mail I am sure it can deliver sufficient quantities of water also. Now that I have told you not to send water, I am sure we will have a shortage and I will be forced to drink water from the open sewers in the street. No matter, what does not kill me sends me home early.

I can't think of anything else you shouldn't send offhand but I'll let you know when something occurs to me.

Merry Christmas

In case I don't see you again. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

By the way, visit www.desertoutkast.com, make PFC Gonzo happy too this Christmas.

I'd be happy if he'd just take down that stupid picture of me sleeping.

In case we don't meet again

Rampant consumerism aside I wanted to say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Christmas isn't about the stuff you get or the money you spend or the places you go or what you do when you get there. Christmas should be about the people you spend the birthday of Christ with. I apologize to the atheists out there. Atheists should feel free to spend Christmas concentrating on getting more stuff.

No more homilies in this space till next year.

More Stuff

I have had a couple of days to think about it and I wanted to add a few more things to my list. Of course, when I get done, Santa will have to airlift everything I want in a C130 but I have needs.

• a Special Operations Medical Backpack $159.99 at http://www.rangerjoes.com/ (in Black please) I have to feed my not so well hidden aspiration to be in Special Ops.
• the next 12 copies of Maxim magazine, because you can't get Playboy in Iraq.
• one jumbo size bottle of hand/body lotion, my skin is extremely dry.
• a time machine, I need some way to make this year pass faster. Of course if I had one the Army would immediately confiscate it in the interest of national security.
• a motorcycle.
• a full body cast, in anticipation of the massive vehicular accident that I will likely have the first time I ride the motorcycle.
• illegal drugs, so I can numb the pain. (If you really attempt to send me illegal drugs I will fly to your location and beat you senseless. If I can't get pornography what makes you think I can get drugs?)
• a Papa John's pizza with extra cheese, Italian sausage, and jalapenos. Frozen? Maybe they could just send me a kit with instructions on how to assemble the whole thing and then I could attempt bake it over a campfire. There is no limit to what a determined soldier might attempt.
• An Xbox, because nobody will send me one despite the fact that I have oodles of money in the bank. (Oodles is a word I define as more than I am accustomed to having due to my normal spending habits)

That's all for now. I'll be waiting impatiently I promise.

More Stuff

I was reading the list of stuff I asked for, and realized that there was no reason I should stop there. I mean I asked for world peace so I might as well try for a couple of new XBox games or something.

In addition to world peace, brotherly love, and well being for all I decided I also want:

• A Pony.
• A big house with a pool. (I'll need it to store the stuff I am going to ask for)
• A vacation to Disney World.
• A baby grand piano. I don't play but I'll learn.
• An electric guitar. See above statement.
• A drum set. See above statement.
• An Alienware Gaming Desktop computer system. I like computers, especially funky alien shaped computers.
• Smallville season three DVD. I already asked for this once. If I have to do it again heads will roll.
• Season three of 24 on DVD. I kind missed this season what with training and deploying for Iraq and all.
• The Dave Chappelle show on DVD. I want this mostly so third squad leader can stop bugging me about borrowing DVD's I have already broken.
• Season three of The Shield on DVD. I don't know if this available but I had to ask you know, I'm on a roll.
• Season three of Friends. I have this weird quirk - I only watch the third season of any TV show.
• Nine pairs of Nomex tactical gloves or Nomex aviator gloves. I destroy like one pair of these a month, so I figure that nine will get me through the rest of the deployment.
• More to come later!

Christmas list continued

Where was I? I think I had just left off with the car. I also want:

• A Tablet PC that can play DVD's and burn CD's. Everybody else has them! I just want to have the same things as all the cool kids.
• Bi-pod legs compatible with a picatinny rail system. My platoon sergeant just got some and they are super cool. You never have to use a sandbag to support your M4 at qualifying again. Of course I would also need an M4.
• My own domain name. You can't be hip unless you have you own your-name.com . All the cool kids have this I swear.
• The Rosetta Stone Arabic Level 1 Language Program. I can't be an international super spy until I have mastered a difficult foreign language and Arabic is the language of the month at Oprah's linguist club.
• 100 pounds of Ramen Noodles. I am hungry.
• 100 pounds of spiced Beef Jerky. I am very hungry.
• A new wardrobe in case I come home on leave. If I come home right now I will be forced to spend the entire time in a nudist colony.
• A weight bench. I recently benched 245 lbs. - the most I have ever lifted in my life - but we lost our weight bench. I stay in shape by doing calisthenics in the wee hours of the morning when I am pulling guard.
• Summer desert combat boots. Supply mistakenly gave me two sets of winter boots and I can't wear one pair because they are too small.
• Final Draft 7 screen writing software. Instead of selling the movie rights to Warner Bros. I am going to write and direct the compelling story of my adventures in Iraq myself.
• World Peace.

Merry Christmas!

All I want for Christmas

All I really want for Christmas is to be home. Unfortunately the only way I'll be home this Christmas is in my dreams. That failing I have a list of things I want.

• A Casio G-shock Watch. I have destroyed no less than 5 watches since I was told that I would be deploying to Iraq.
• A warranty for my XBox. I have destroyed nearly $300 in Xbox equipment since I have been in in country.
• Warm weather. It has been absurdly frigid in our location and I am told it will continue to be so for the forseeable future.
• A Nissan 350Z. Do I really need to explain this one?
• Matching chrome plated 9 millimeter hand guns. I have just grown accustomed to the feel of the gun and I want to be able to accessorize with my watch.
• Time is up. More later

Out on the street with my peeps

So I was on patrol just the other day when we met this crowd of Iraqi children. When we see children they tend to clamor for whatever trinkets we carry and we usually give them pens, coloring books, or whatever school supplies we have on hand. Candy is not recommended but sometimes we do it anyway. Usually, the kids won't accept the candy. I began asking the kids their names and trying to converse with them using the limited Arabic I have learned during my tour. One child completely floored me when he read my name off the front of my flak vest, no mean feat considering how much difficulty native English speakers have pronouncing my name. I immediately turned and pointed at another soldier's name. The kid read the name with no difficulty. He didn't speak English as well but his sense of humor translated just fine. With the pen we had given him less than 2 seconds ago he wrote on his hand in English "Ali Baba" - Arabic G.I. slang, as in "Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves".

Let me be the first to tell those of you at home who don't know yet, it gets cold in Iraq. I can't tell you how ironic it is to be wearing a jacket when you are staring at palm trees. I always wondered why they made us pack cold weather gear.

Somebody send me season 3 of Smallville! I acknowledge that I can't eat it but the box that it comes in might be kind of tasty.

Idahosa Edokpayi

Can anyone understand the mystery that is Africa?

Can anyone hope to survive her jungles unscathed and soul intact?

Can anyone look upon her people and not be moved?

Can anyone understand the mystery that is Africa?

Posting by email

I am trying a fairly new feature in Blogger that allows users to post by email. I had some lame sentimental rhymes I had wanted to post but I failed to write them down immediately and the poetry disappeared. Maybe next time.

Any Citizen

Lately, we've been receiving letters addressed to any soldier. I am replying to any citizen who cares to read.

Dear Citizen,
Thank you for your letters of support and the numerous packages you send our way. Your support makes our war effort possible. The cookies fill the stomachs of the soldiers who receive them and the letters fill their hearts. We laugh with delight when your children write us and study the pictures they draw and the photographs you send with intense interest. Soldiers amuse themselves by responding to your correspondence and even if you receive no response do not assume that your letter was not appreciated. Our duties sometimes make us forget our manners but we never forget your gifts and letters.
There are those of you who question our involvement in Iraq and wish us to come home immediately. Most soldiers would tell you this is impossible. We believe that we are here because we must be here. Our involvement is necessary for your safety, for the safety of the world. Whatever the reasons that soldiers originally entered Iraq, soldiers must stay now for the good of all involved. We are here planting the seeds of freedom in Iraq just as the first American soldiers planted them in America so long ago. Even if we could be persuaded to abandon the work we have started we could not leave. To leave would be to disgrace the blood of our brothers in arms who have died or been maimed fighting here before us. We have to make their sacrifice worthwhile.
Citizen, don't know me, you will probably never meet me but if you read what I have written and understand the sentiment behind my words you will have done me a great service. Thank you.

SPC Idaho Edokpayi 1-503rd INF REGT US Army

Simple Pleasures

Idahosa is a happy soldier today because he just took a shower and is going to take another in a few short minutes. The warm spray of a strong shower head over filthy skin is a dramatically sensual experience when one has been taking cold showers for 3 months. Add hot chow and life just does not get better.
Have I said anything about how the Army gets too little good press and the Marines get way too much? I'd say more but...
Somebody just destroyed my month old Xbox while I was out dodging bullets. I hate people sometimes. If I could find that person, I would personally ensure that they suffered a horrible, agonizing death involving clever misuse of medical equipment and the blunt end of a 9mm Beretta. I am a medic after all.
By the way, here's a note to all the girls out there just dying to hook up with a soldier: if you get within ten feet of an infantryman in any branch of the service you will get pregnant instantly. I promise.

War is Hell

There is a joke going around that Time magazine has voted the installation currently housing the 1-503rd is the worst place to live in the world. The problem with the joke is that any reporter visiting from Time magazine would be blown to smithreens, shot, or kidnapped before he ever actually walked in the gate.
I have a few projects in mind with regard to this blog. I plan to get some web space and get a domain name. I also plan to get a digital camera so you can see me win the war in Iraq single handedly or rather so you can see me pose for silly pictures with bewildered Iraqi children. What this means for the blog in its current incarnation is nothing. Even when I start the new website I will still be posting to this blog. The new website will be this blog, just on steroids. I like self-promotion over the internet.
Life in Iraq is well, life in Iraq. It sucks. It sucks a lot. We just installed electricity and I saw the CO building a shower behind the building so things are looking up. Hot chow has been more regular lately, I might stop losing weight. I also took a shower today so I am feeling extremely chipper.
Send food.
(I can't eat money.)

Lame Poetry

Does absence make the heart grow fonder,
Or does it make one prone to wander?
Through the distance can two souls reach and touch
Or do suspicious minds demand too much?
Can loneliness poison, leave us in pain,
Prevent us from seeing what we have to gain?
It seems that man will never learn:
To yearn is to blunder; to desire is to burn.
Love is tragedy; life is love; the end comes faster;
And all is unmitigated, beautiful disaster.
The common everyday emotional attachments
Are just snares, entrapment.
Don't try to escape, don't deny your need!
Join me in folly; this I plead.
In the end love is impossible.
Yet at the same time, love is unstoppable.

I am prone to write dumb poetry when I spend a lot of time on guard by myself.
I've got big plans, just not a lot of time to talk about them. Watch this space. I'll be back.

Going Places

If you don't hear from me don't worry. I am going to be at a location nearby where I cannot post to the blog for a while. In the meantime, go vote! Today's election will be the most important election to take place in my lifetime and could directly impact how long I stay in Iraq and whether I will have to go back. Those of you who know me well know how I would have you vote, but I don't want to go any further because I don't want to possibly insult the future Commander in Chief.
I am actually leaving in two hours so I'll have to cut this short.

Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween!
From a guy who never went trick or treating as a kid.

Who are these people?

So I am receiving even more mail from people who apparently are visiting this blog. It's touching really it is. I am always amazed that people are interested in what I have to say.
Life around the FOB (Forward Operating Base if memory serves) is actually relaxed for once. At least it is when I am not being wrestled to the ground and cuffed by members of my own platoon. It could have been worse, the last medic was bound and stuffed in a box, a prank known in platoon history as "Doc In a Box". I would have killed someone before I let that happen. I am not angry really. They did the same thing to our Platoon Leader not long ago. No one is immune, except the Platoon Sergeant. I am sending out a warning. I will have my revenge. I am different from medics past. Those involved should sleep with an eye open.

Grammar police

I am expecting a visitation of the Grammar Police at any moment due to numerous miscues in the last few posts. When people start reading, I start proofreading and start wondering how much it would cost to hire an editor. This is from a kid who once boasted on a college application that he could teach 98% of graduating high school seniors something about English.
To my audience, (you know who you are, all 2 of you) thanks for reading; you keep me honest. Well at least you make me check my spelling.

What we all fear most

Silence is the most ominous thing a military family can hear.

MSNBC - Reservists refuse mission in Iraq

The military might be downplaying the seriousness of what these 19 people did but I know that if 19 people in my platoon did what these people did that the powers that be would rain hell-fire and brimstone on our location for days. I hope that they were justified and that the media can rescue them. Because not even God will help you if you disobey the US Army without good reason.
MSNBC - Reservists refuse mission in Iraq

A Soldier's Wish List

Someone emailed me and reminded me that people indeed do read this blog. I forget that people read what I write every so often. With those of you at home reading this in mind I came up with a list of things your soldier probably wants you to send him.

1. Books: I read at least 20 books in the two weeks 2ID was in Kuwait. I recommend light reading, Tom Clancy is much better in our situation than John Milton.
2. Magazines: Magazines are good also. You would be shocked at how many infantry men will read Cosmoplitan.
3. DVD's : If a soldier doesn't have a DVD player he will beg/borrow/steal one if for someone reason he can't buy it. Once he has obtained said DVD player he will watch everything on DVD in a two mile radius. It's true; I promise.
4. CD's: Same situation as with DVD's only not as desperate.
5. Baby wipes/Wet Wipes/Body cleansing towels: Soldiers use baby wipes on themselves just like you do on your baby. I wouldn't be that surprised if someone told me that a soldier somewhere was buying and wearing diapers. Baby wipes have other cleansing uses but there exists no better replacement for toilet paper.
6. Toiletry items: The PX's (Post Exchange - it's where military personnel buy enormous amounts of things they have no use for) are chronically under-stocked and there is always something that a soldier wants that isn't readily available. Also, I bet you would be surprised that macho infantry soldiers buy loofahs and body wash to use in the shower; loofahs are the best way to fight an affliction known as prickly heat. (Prickly heat is a skin condition that soldiers often get from constant wear of body armor. The sensation is something like having an infinite number of flaming needles jabbed in the skin at once. Those afflicted have been known to do the "Prickly Heat Tango", a dance requiring that the dancer scratch his back while writhing in agony on the floor.)
7. Video Games: I recommend multi-player games. True story: I recently bought X-Men Legends for my XBox and played it for five minutes and left to run an errand. When I returned, ten men had gathered around my Xbox to wait their turn to play.
8. Pictures of friends and family: I often see pictures of wives, girlfriends, children, friends, and family taped on the walls in the barracks, right next to the picture of naked women ripped from girly mags.
9. Clothes: There are no PT uniforms in the PX, none! PT's are the only other thing that most soldiers have to wear if they are not in their DCU's (Desert Combat Uniforms, they are the tan and brown uniforms that you see soldiers in on the news). You can buy PT's at any military base or possibly at military surplus stores. You can also buy them online at Ranger Joe's. PT, by the way, stands for Physical Training. PT uniforms are worn to exercise and sleep in. Most branches of the service have dark shorts and some sort of plain t-shirt with the name of the branch on the front. The Army personnel wear a gray t-shirt
   with Army emblazoned on the front and black trunks with Army written on left leg with white reflective tape. The Marines (which are not even a separate branch of the Service. They are a Department of the Navy!) insist on being different and wear plain green t-shirts with the shortest green shorts I have ever seen. There is nothing funnier than the sight of a macho Marine doing PT - in green short shorts. There official color isn't even green; the Marine color is red. Even the Air Force had the sense to wear dark blue. Send underwear too. The PX sells a very unsatisfactory narrow selection of underwear. They do sell thong panties, though. We all know how practical it is to be digging butt-floss out of the crack of your butt when the insurgents decide to start shooting at you. We all appreciate effort though. (Don't get me wrong, I am very much in favor of butt floss, just not on the battle field) Under Armour or some sort of moisture wicking t-shirt is also in high demand. Soldiers think they look cool in high tech spandex.
10. Food: Girls, if you send a soldier cookies you baked yourself and they make it to him intact and unspoiled, he will propose marriage. I promise. I recommend candy, beef jerky, powdered drinks (Gatorade powder is being sold by the gram in the barracks), and meal replacement bars for everyone else. Generally any food that will not spoil and does not need any kind of preparation is a good idea.
11. Letters: The most important thing you can send a soldier is your love. Soldiers measure love in mail. (or e-mail) If all you can do is write "hi" on a sheet of paper and mail that, at least he knows you love him a little.

So what are you waiting for? Send me something already!

On the Radar

Uh-Oh! It seems through extremely reliable sources that this blog is on Army brass' radar. In my experience this is the beginning of the end for most blogs. I do not think that will happen in my case since I take care to stay away from OPSEC violations but my fingers remain crossed.
Yesterday, I learned why the insurgents are such terrible shots by firing an AK-47 on automatic. It was enjoyable - I now believe that everybody should have their own AK - but was hardly a demonstration of outstanding marksmanship.

On Patrol in Iraq

So I was walking the beat with my peeps in an Iraqi village when I saw this Iraqi guy surrounded by all these children, his I suppose. He smiled at me and gestured at the water bottle I was guzzling cool water from. (cool water is more precious than gold in Iraq) He pointed at the youngest child, a girl with huge brown eyes and curly reddish brown hair. She was so perfect, a little angel. When I saw her my heart leaped in my chest. So I knelt and gave her the water bottle. She took it in both hands like a baby bottle and finished the water I had left. Moment's like that make me proud to be a soldier.

Election Scorecard - Where the presidential race stands today.

Election Scorecard - Where the presidential race stands today.
Bush is kicking Kerry in the butt according the people who like him least.

One down 11 to go

We've been here a little more than a month but I thought I'd let y'all know. To be brutally honest with myself, there is nothing I would like more than to leave this God-forsaken hell hole behind me. It is everything I can do at times to not weep when I think of the time I must spend here, a year! What was I thinking when I joined the Army? In calmer moments, I comfort myself by saying that I knew what I was getting into, that I actually wanted to do this, and most of all I wanted to serve my country. It's all true, but there are times that I would kill to be back in the States - anywhere in the States, at this point I'd go to Death Valley. It isn't so bad as I made out in the last two paragraphs. There are a multitude of benefits that will come to me by being here and my life isn't coming to an end. It's just not easy. Even when it isn't that bad, it really isn't that great either. I just want to go home. So I am alive despite the best efforts of our friends the insurgents. The chain of command is making every effort to bring as many of the comforts of home as feasible to the soldiers here and it is getting better. The one thing that never cease to amaze me is the sight of thong panties in the PX. We spend every day in mortal danger and someone is worried about whether their panty lines show. You can't see panty lines in DCU's! It is comforting though that people have time to think about sex on the battlefield. At least, some things haven't changed.

Visit Lost in Desert.com

Visit my platoon website. The people who are going to keep me alive in Iraq.

Umm Still here

You know, I am scared witless of saying anything interesting about what is going on here due to operational security and I don't get outside news so my blog for at least the next 11 months could probably be summed up with, "I am still here!"

Our man Jack In Iraq

So I am firmly ensconced somewhere outside of Baghdad near a major hot spot in Iraq and I am still in one piece. The key phrase in the first sentence is "still in one piece". Death and destruction find the unwary and the wary alike although the unwary are struck down with much greater frequency. There are a few simple things one can do to protect himself here, but the truth is that when the day comes death will find you and nothing can prevent it. So I don't think about it... Much anyway.
Communication with the outside world is intermittent due to operational security and unreliable technology. I have also succeeded in destroying some of my personal electronic equipment with the 220 volt electricity generated by the installations overworked generators. Luckily my laptop is more resilient than my XBox. I have nothing of consequence to say really. I am alive. That's all.

Live from Iraq

You know the title for this post is silly. Of course I am "Live from Iraq". If I was dead there would be no post. Or maybe it isn't so silly. The only thing that is constant about life now is the sheen of sweat on every soldier's brow at midday. I've experienced mortar attacks for the first time. Most of the time mortar attacks are only acknowledged because of the noise they make, but one round came close enough that we could feel the rush of air from the blast. The battalion that we are replacing once had nearly half of its tents burn to the ground due to mortar fire. Men were caught in the shower in the midst of the attack and were forced to wander the camp in towels. I giggled like an uncaring school girl when my platoon sergeant told this story. He immediately pointed out that insurgents target medics and would love to kill me first. I still couldn't stop laughing.
As to my living conditions, all I'll admit to is that I live in squalor compared to the air conditioned tents we slept in while in Kuwait. I'll live though. And I am done.

Soldier and Psychopath

Soldiers are psychopaths. The act of traveling to a strange country and causing fatal bodily harm to people one barely knows must surely be madness. War is merely the process of building perfect little murderers enmasse. Yet war is the only form of diplomacy that really works. War is more than necessary. War is inevitable.

First Blood

My unit has drawn first blood today in Kuwait, we produced our first non-friendly casualty. Granted it was an innocent civilian who stumbled into a live-fire range but I caught myself wishing I was there so I could have treated my first gunshot wound. My motivation is curiosity. Does everything I have been taught work? If someone is bleeding from a wound will dressing the wound really help them? If someone is in shock and I initiate an IV will they be revived? Inquiring minds want to know. Mine does anyhow.

Come On

I can't escape the feeling that my life is on hold. The longer I stay in Kuwait, the more impatient I become. I saw an old buddy of mine from boot camp but we had nothing to say to each other. Beyond the momentary elation of recogniton, there was nothing.
I don't have any insights gained from living in the desert, no knowledge gained from constant introspection. The most productive thing I have started doing again is lifting weights. I am bored.

Can't Wait, I'm in Kuwait

That has to be the corniest post title I have ever used. I've been in Kuwait four days now and I think that the desert agrees with me. At least it does when the Army installs showers, air conditioned tents, dining facilites, an internet cafe, and a Subway. Life cannot be that hard when there's a Subway restaurant within walking distance. I won't even eat there, the only restaurant that could make me feel more at home though is a McDonald's.
I made the mistake of not bringing half of my laptop charger. So I am hamstrung. But it's ok.
One of the things that has been so surprising in Kuwait, is how "hajji" has so easily replaced "ottoshee". Foreigners in Korea called every Korean male "ottoshee" now in Kuwait and Iraq we have "hajji". I suppose that I'll stop liking "hajji" so much when he starts shooting at me. Time is money, in the internet cafe it's $5 an hour, so I am done and on to the next one.

soxblog

Here's hoping no one ever looks up my grades as an undergrad to decide whether I am intelligent or not.
soxblog

3 days out

Umm I am 3 days out of Iraq. I am at peace with going to war. (Irony if I ever saw it.) At the same time what do I say? Not a lot of turmoil or mixed emotions.

Democracy doesn't happen in conventions

I was reading electablog the just now and he commented on how going to the Democratic convention opened his eyes on how Democracy works.
I've got news for anybody who thinks political conventions are a part of the democratic process, they are clearly not any more. Maybe at one time nomination conventions were meant to chose a candidate for the national political parties but that time has passed. Candidates are chosen well before the actual convention and conventions merely rubber stamp the party's preferred candidate. Conventions are now an impediment to the democratic process because they provide the preferred candidate a chance to coopt his former primary opponents messages and silence any critics within the party thus squashing any serious dialogue.
What's worse is that conventions are vehicles of a two party system that excludes any and all others. We essentially have two state mandated political parties. Conventions aren't about democracy, Conventions are a tool of the political establishment to control the voting public. The entire thing is a giant sham.

Kerry Stinks

I've been back from the field and I have been able to catch up on my political reading and I wanted to say that John Kerry is a weak candidate. Despite the incredible ground swell of public outrage from the political left against President Bush, Kerry will be unable to connect with voters outside his own natural liberal constituency. Why? He stinks.
I've been pointing out that Kerry has run for president before and was defeated in the primaries. Kerry is a re-tread. He will fail because his stiff demeanor and speaking style will prevent him from convincing the American people that he is anything other than he is; and he is a canny, opportunistic, and very cautious political operator.
I just don't feel that John Kerry has the new ideas or the charisma to lead the country in a transformative era.
There are times I don't know if George Bush has the ability to lead the country, but what he has shown is the willingness to make incredibly unpopular decisions merely because he is convinced that he is right. This isn't a problem if Mr. Bush is always right. Let us pray that he is right more often.

AtomFilms - This Land

Don't get me wrong though. I plan to vote for the nut job myself.
AtomFilms - This Land

Terror in the Skies, Again? - WomensWallStreet

Absolutely positively chilling.
Terror in the Skies, Again? - WomensWallStreet

Slogging my way to Iraq

Training for the desert in Korea during the monsoon season has not been one of the most pleasant things I have ever done in life. Constant wear of my body armor has introduced me to an ailment known as "prickly heat". Salt, dirt, and assorted other things become lodged in the patient's pores and subject him to a maddening, burning, prickling sensation in the affected area. It sucks. You should see me do the "oh-my-God-what-is-that-itching-burning-sensation-all-over-my-back" dance.
I return to the field tomorrow morning with my line company to continue training in God knows where on the Korean peninsula. A nearly continuous month of training, spiced with unsubstantiated rumors of extra time in Iraq make Jack a very dull boy indeed.
I am out.

MSNBC - Iraqi group says it beheaded U.S. Marine

NO!
MSNBC - Iraqi group says it beheaded U.S. Marine

The world is my Urinal

The one thing about being in the field in the Army is that you get really thirsty. So you drink water. Then the inevitable consequence is that you must get rid of the water somehow and there are no bathrooms. What do you do? You go anywhere you feel like. There isn't anybody watching who might get offended and if there is, they shouldn't be watching.
I am back in the barracks (I don't use the word "home" because I have no home anymore) for the Fourth of July but I am leaving Monday morning. I better get while the getting is good. I can feel Iraq coming...
I have some funny stories to tell about being in the field but I don't want to give away any of tactics, it's actually a matter of security. We did have some craziness involving the platoon sergeant splattering a squad leader with glow-in-the-dark paint from a broken Chem-light. The inside of the building we were camped in looked like a low rent rave party. The BDU's even looked all right because apparently everyone is wearing camouflage to the club now.

Terrorist Henchmen have US Marine

MSNBC - Arab TV shows tape of purported U.S. hostage

Medical Tomfoolery

Never sleep around a medic. Never get so drunk that you are unconscious. Never agree to let the medic practice procedures on you that you have never heard of. Like inserting a nasogastric tube, inserting a nasogastric airway, or inserting a Foley catheter. Medics were probably the kids growing up who were always sticking pens in their noses or inhaling beans. Male medics have this urge to stuff tubes in every human orifice extant. We think it's funny. Look at us funny and you might end up with a catheter slimed with surgilube somewhere the sun doesn't shine.
Two medics offered themselves up as guinea pigs for medical procedures tonight. One agreed to have a nasogastric tube put in. A nasogastric tube is a tube that doctors use to clean out your stomach in a hospital or take a sample of stomach contents. Well medics like it because we get to shove a tube down somebody's nose. I have a video of this dude drinking Mountain Dew only to have a buddy of mine sucking it out of a tube in his nose as fast as he can drink it.
The other guy put in his own Foley catheter. That is to say he smeared iodine on his penis while wearing sterile gloves, put lubricant on a plastic tube and shoved the entire thing in his penis! At one point, he was in so much pain he was nearly in tears and we all just nearly died with laughter.
I have a video of him doing this to himself. I laugh so hard when I watch it that I have to make sure I go the bathroom first. Medics are fun.

Dick Cheney drops an F bomb on Pat Leahy

MSNBC - Cheney curses Leahy on Senate floor

Gene Expression: Homo Superior or how Science has discovered how to create your own race of mutant super men

Gene Expression: Homo Superior

Unfairenheit 9/11 - The lies of Michael Moore. By Christopher?Hitchens

Christopher Hitchen nails Michael Moore's cowardly movie.
Unfairenheit 9/11 - The lies of Michael Moore. By Christopher?Hitchens

Mistakes Loom Large as Handover Nears (washingtonpost.com)

Ouch! Things could have been so much better. Mistakes Loom Large as Handover Nears (washingtonpost.com)

Are we deployed yet?

I talked to someone who just spent 10 months in Iraq, which honestly could be almost anyone in the Army since Army brass is deploying everybody. He told me something interesting. Deploying is easy; predeployment is hell. I mean hell like living in jail with some dude named Bubba who's looking for a new "Mommy". I mean hell like living with your PMS'ed mother-in-law and her new boyfriend "Donny". I mean hell like finding out your wife cheated on you with your brother... And your best friend, and your cousin, and his friends, and...
It's unpleasant.
I did get off work early today so I decided to unwind by actually using my XBox for what it was designed for and playing some video games. So I played "Ninja Gaiden" and got my butt handed to me by assorted fictional characters whose only purpose is to hassle hapless gamers. Strangely enough, it was enjoyable, but I could only take so much failure.

MSN Video

Michael Moore's at it again. He says that he "rails against the Democratic party". Yet he's made no movies about them.
MSN Video

A Medical Quest - In which I am given new hope, which is crushed a few days later. By Masha?Gessen

A Medical Quest - The story of a woman who is dealing with cancer - before she gets it. By Masha?Gessen

What it means to be a Soldier

The only good reason to ever become a soldier is for what the soldier can give to his country and not what his country can give to him. The country in the end can only offer so much but the soldier sacrifices his life - all that he has.

Winning the War on Terror

Do you want to know a secret? America is winning the war on terror. What we are doing is working. Given time, Al Qaida will be driven from Iraq and most likely Bin Laden will be caught. People hear the negativity in the news and they read about soldiers dying in Iraq but they don't hear the stories about how we are slowly but surely driving the terrorists out. No one pays attention when commanders lament that we are killing the insurgents too easily, marveling at what madness drives young men to challenge tanks with rifles or handguns. Nobody pays attention to intercepted communications from terrorists fretting about how the US Army is depriving terrorists of "space of movement". I make no claims that everyone involved has done all the right things for the right motives. Defeating terrorism has been a clumsy process, but I implore anyone who will listen to just give us time. We will win. The cost of failure is much to high for us give up and go home now.
As a soldier, my distaste for going to Iraq and being separated from home is almost as strong as my desire to do the right thing. The right thing is difficult and dangerous thing to do, but the right thing to do is the only thing we can do. Driving the forces of evil out of Iraq won't prevent all possible terrorist acts, but it will show the enemy that the free world fights terror where ever terror can be found. The enemy will learn that we are an implacable foe. They will know that we will win.

Yahoo! News - Purported Letter: Iraq Holy War in Danger

This link is old news by now, but I hope somebody up high is listening and pushing for earlier elections.
Yahoo! News - Purported Letter: Iraq Holy War in Danger

GUNNER PALACE

As you might expect I am fascinated by anything involving soldiers in Iraq. Check out this documentary filmed in Baghdad.
GUNNER PALACE

For Melissa

I am in South Korea once again. It is time to get down to the serious business of training for Iraq. I was reminded once again of how serious being in Iraq is by the news of the death of a friend of mine in Iraq. I won't divulge her full name since that is not my privilege, but I will say that her death really brings home how real and how dangerous it is over in the "Sandbox".
Melissa (her real first name) had trained in the same platoon with me through BCT and AIT. She told me about her little girl, nicknamed me "Gizmo", boasted of her prowess at physical training, and told of her wild antics as a bartender in civilian life. She was real, I knew her, and now she's cold lying in state with a bronze star pinned to her chest to solace her family.
I don't know whether she died bravely (she probably did), but I do know that I'd rather her be alive. I'd rather that my cocoon of invincibility - people I know don't die - hadn't been shattered. People who win medals die. Coming back alive is my number one goal. The cost in human life has been painful but we cannot falter. The only way to redeem the life lost in Iraq is success. Iraq must become a nation worth dying for. Leaving would be an affront to the people who sacrificed their blood in the desert. Leaving would say that Melissa died for nothing. I can't allow that. We must stay the course as painful as the course may be.

Blah

If I had to use one word to describe what I feel it would be "blah". I feel like I have accomplished nothing in two weeks of being in Dallas. I think I am running in the wrong crowd or something. I feel as if I know no one, as if I do nothing, and I have learned nothing. Yet, if I go out people I know from long ago recognize me, I am so busy I barely find time to rest, and I babble endlessly about learning how to treat the sick and injured. Nothing satisfies.

Though I speak with the tongues of men and angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.
I Corinthians 13:1-2

Maybe I just need to meet a girl named "Charity".

Proud to Be an American

In about an hour I will become an American citizen after living here 23 years and being in the Army a year. Wish me luck!

Live, From Austin!

I am in Austin trying to party it up before I go. The fun starts in earnest tonight. I am reveling with a sense of urgency - if that is possible.
Perhaps I have the wrong attitude, but I am trying to cram as much as possible into my time at home. I don't think I am going to die, since the actual casualties in ratio to the number of troops in Iraq is small. At the same time, I could just get lucky (or unlucky, whichever word you prefer). I am not going to leave anything to chance or leave with any regrets.
Got to go nap before the party.

It's Really Simple Sucker

If you haven't noticed, I now have RSS (Really Simple Syndication) and Atom feeds of my blog available for public consumption. That is going to be really important when I go off to Iraq and become a war hero/minor celebrity - people are going to be able to keep up with my travels in the desolate Iraqi war zone.

Intimacy

Intimacy, isn't that all that anybody really longs for in their personal life? That feeling when you wake up looking directly into someone else's eyes; that feeling on the dance floor when your foreheads touch gently, your noses brush, and your mouths are less than inches apart; that split second feeling from a good hug; or that little thrill when someone kisses you on the neck where the jaw line approaches the ear. Let other people have sex and prostitutes - if a woman were to sell intimacy, I would pay any price she could name.

Lawrence Lessig on how Copyright is Destroying Flamenco

Why do people feel the need to claim ownership of everything?
Lawrence Lessig

Jet Lag

The upside of being jet-lagged is that I am also feeling really creative. I usually get inspired late at night anyway so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I have made a lot of tweaks to the blog's appearance and added a few links. I hope that my reader's (all two of them) appreciate the effort. I shouldn't laugh about not having readers. At times, the fact that nobody reads this blog is a saving grace.

Investigating Myself

Every time I come back to Dallas, I feel as I am investigating my past life. Evidence that I lived before the Army is quickly disappearing. I came home and I spent 3 hours looking for people I want to hang out with in Dallas. The list is depressingly short. I am beginning to think that is very little reason for me to come back to Dallas anymore. I think I will see the world after all, what is the use of coming home too see friends when there are no friends left to see?
I find that I am a user and a loser. I hang out with people I don't necessarily like because they are useful. I also tend to lose contact of even the people I really like. So I use friends and then I lose them. Sad...
I feel as if I had something profound and sad to say about loneliness and lost childhood, but the words have slipped my mind and the feeling remains. If my friends were to read this they might think I don't value their friendship, but the opposite is true. I am puzzled and disappointed that I don't hear from them daily, I long for communiques from people I haven't heard from. I covet their time. I don't know why but when I travel thousands of miles and cross eight time zones, I feel good when people drop everything there doing to spend time with me.

A funny link to lighten a heavy post.

Don't Tell the Folks

By the way, nobody knows I am in LA yet, or that I am going to be in Dallas in a few hours. So don't be the one to tell them.

California Love

So I am sitting in the USO at LAX writing this post. Regrettably, I am not going to explore LA while I am here, although I am still adding it to the list of places I have been. I have visited: Columbia, SC; San Antonio, TX; Atlanta, GA twice; Tongducheon, Republic of Korea; Seoul, Republic of Korea; Osan, Republic of Korea; South Padre Island, TX during spring break; Austin, TX three times; Houston, TX four times; Dallas, TX my home in the US; and Anchorage, AL). Of course, I only know many of these places by the airports. Flying is still a strange experience for me, although I am quickly accruing more time on jets than all of my family members combined. I am not afraid, yet on every takeoff and landing I imagine the plane shuddering tipping and bursting into flames. I have a very morbid imagination.
I never thought I would become a war blogger, yet here I am. After eleven days of leave, I will be returning to South Korea to train and then deploying to the Middle East. Odds are, judging by the results of other war bloggers, my chain of command is likely going to shut me down for saying the wrong thing, but let's have fun until then shall we?