2011 Round Up

Hello everyone,   Christmas 2011

Sometimes it feels like I am writing one of these every 20 minutes, but in fact it has been a whole year. They keep going faster and faster and I'm reminded of two great truths: nothing changes and everything changes.

Two-Thousand Eleven has been a pretty academic year for the Fosters. Zachary has finished his Associate's. Jennifer has finished her Bachelor's. I finished my Master's. Hannah, still in her Junior Year, has done her first college class. That's a lot of studying, but we are all in preparation for the future... because it is now.

This is likely the last year we will all be together in the same house. Zack is planning on leaving the nest and heading into the world, possibly by the time you read this. He's looking around for Law Enforcement positions and prepping his pepper spray. I thought I was raising Batman, but I think we got Commissioner Gordon instead; an honest cop to a fault, and I couldn't be more proud. Too bad he can't grow a cool Gary Oldman style mustache. We are going to miss him when he goes, but are really excited to see him get out into the world and fix it. That, and Eightball wants his own room...

Hannah has become someone whom I not only love as a daughter, but enjoy spending time with as a person. She's articulate and funny, but sometimes goes off with the type of mouth Fosters are famous for. I should tell her to watch her mouth, but at times her profanity is sculpted like Michaelangelo working in four-letter words. It's an artform she is mastering, and she has the brains to back up her points. Also, we watch a lot of Doctor Who together. She's looking forward to some of the changes 2012 brings, which I will get into in a moment.

Zack isn't the only superhero in the Foster family; Jennifer—along with her academic success—has been volunteering with the Red Cross helping several families who lost their homes in fires, to include the Monument Fire which made national news this year. She's building up the resume to get to our next duty station and find some work saving the world herself. Very exciting to think about what she's going to be up to in the coming year, be it work or her own Master's program (or both). Again, we are getting ready for the next phase.

That next phase is about here. In the Spring we make what should be our last move for My Firm and return to the Great Green Northwest. About that time I should be pinning CW4, and the 36 (or possibly 24) month countdown to retirement starts then. I have truly loved My Firm, but phase two is about here, and it is time for something new. Not sure what that will be, and My Firm still wants me to give them one more trip to the badlands, but that's a small price to pay for joining the Check of the Month Club.

See? Everything is changing: new city, new jobs, new school, new ranks. Everything is staying the same: save the world, get educated, be busy. The world isn't going to end in 2012; we won't let it.

So, we ask this year you indulge us just a bit longer as we may be sporadic in reaching out. Please believe me when I tell you we love you all and we hope Christmas and the holiday season finds you all looking forward to 2012, and the New Year being kind to you. Keep calm and carry on, and we will all get through this together.   Merry Christmas!  Happy Chanukah! Happy New Year!  Occupy 2012!

The Fosters

The Official Black Owl review of James Cameron's “Avatar.”

Oh, where to begin? I suppose at the beginning. (Massive Spoilers!!!!!)

In the future, mankind is out and about in the stars, and have located the forest moon of Pandora. Not only is Pandora lush in flora and fauna, but a noble sentient race, the Na'vi, make the moon their home in various tribes situated in various locales. The moon Pandora is also rich in the extremely valuable mineral “unobtanium” which means the humans are willing to do what they must to, well, obtain it.

Along with the Military/Industrial mission to Pandora to mine the unobtanium, there is also a scientific team using “avatar” technology to study and communicate with the native Na'vi. This means scientists have cloned human/Na'vi hybrids capable of surviving on Pandora's atmosphere. The human half allows for a mental transference; i.e. the human DNA donor can actually project mentally into the nine foot tall blue body as if it were their own, while their own frail human shell lies in a transmitting chamber.

A member of the team dies in a freak accident, but happens to have a twin brother who is a Marine. Jake Sully takes his brother's place in the scientific mission, but for the first time is a member who straddles the line to the military. Additionally, the former Marine suffers from paralysis due to an old war wound- use of the avatar will allow him to walk again.

Though initially there only to help the Military backed Corporation exploit the Na'vi, he becomes attached, falls in love with the Chief's daughter, and proves himself to be the great warrior they need to defeat the superior human forces.


So what's good? The imagery and cinematography are without peer. Every frame and design are beautiful, from the graceful (and scientifically plausible) human starship the Venture Star, to the Scorpion helicopters, to the Battletech-like power suits. The organic design is also masterful, with the majority of Pandora's wildlife designed by the famed Wayne Barlowe, known as the author of “Barlowe's Guide to Extraterrestrials.” (A must have for all geeks BTW.) With a single exception (to be discussed later) the fauna of Pandora follows an evolutionary chain lending a stunning realism and suspension of disbelief to the creatures.




The cast has some of my favorite performers. Sam Worthington, despite being in some awful movies, is always worth watching. Zoe Saldana, the newest Leiutenant Uhura in my favorite film of the last decade, Star Trek, delivers as Neytiri the Chieftain's daughter even through the mask of motion capture CGI imagery. Her skinny blue alien is, and maybe I'm a freak for saying it, sexy as all get out. James Cameron alumni Sigourney Weaver, no stranger to dealing with aliens herself gets to perform as both human scientist and nine foot blue hottie. So what could be wrong?

Well, everything else.

I have hugged more than a few trees in my time, and I have taken responsibility for my share of White Guilt over the abominable treatment of the Native Americans. Cameron wants to make sure we do both, and he isn't hiding this message- he's bludgeoning us with it. Where's the subtle message of cooperation so deftly delivered in “The Abyss”? How about the sidebar conversations on the inevitability, or non-inevitability, of being destroyed by our own science in “Terminator”? Where's the quiet little jabs at Corporate inhumanity as personified by Paul Reiser in “Aliens”? All of these themes which rode in on the backs of movies in the form of brilliant Science Fiction allegory are replaced by Cameron reaching out of the screen and choking you with the barest minimum of character development or plot to deliver the social message. There are no characters in this film- there are stereotypes. Giovanni Ribisi I assume was cast as Parker Selfridge, the Corporate dick, because Paul Reiser was unavailable to reprise his role from Aliens. Sigourney Weaver tapped her Dian Fossey button from her performance in “Gorillas in the Mist.” The military commander, Colonel Miles Quaritch (which I have to assume is named for H.R. Haggard's novel 'Colonel Quaritch, V.C.” about a military man forced to fit into a quiet, nature-like country environment) is nothing more than a two dimensional amalgamation of every military hard ass to grace the silver screen. From reveling in his scars to casually clutching a coffee cup while on missions of genocide, he's about as deep as my belly button. The only character who goes through any transformation or development at all is Jake Sully, who one could very well argue becomes sympathetic to the Na'vi because the avatar program lets him walk again, and no longer being paralyzed means hot jungle sex with a nine foot tall blue Zoe Saldana. Speaking of stereotypes, let's discuss the Na'vi.




After countless hours someone spent imagining the ecosystem of Pandora, the culture of the Na'vi is simply lifted from your standard “noble savage” story. The tribal rituals, the native peoples type accents- no originality WHATSOEVER in their existence. The only attempt at allegory instead of direct rip off is the Na'vi's ability to psychically link with the animals of Pandora- they are literally connected instead of symbolically. Physically, instead of giving us something truly alien, we get exaggerated versions of Western beauty images. Long legs, rounded hips, full lips; only the somewhat feline facial features and impossibly long bodies make them alien at all (Yeah, ok, and they're blue). Their expressions of emotions- exactly human. Their symmetry, idealized human. Why is it every other form of animal life we see on this planet, from the big rhino things to the black panther dogs, even the pterodactyls, have six limbs, but the Na'vi only have four? Are they a transplant? As far as their worship- of course there's a Mother Goddess, and though there is an attempt to give some scientific reasoning to her existence, we are still looking at the same old Gaia/Earth Mother/Living Planet idea used in such brilliant movies as “Ferngully: The Last Rainforest.”

The story? Equally derivative. If you caught a double feature of “Dances with Wolves” and “Pocahontas” you have seen this film. Did Neytiri really have to be the chief's daughter? Did they really have to teach Jake Sully their ways as a hunter so he could understand them? Did the Na'vi really need a white man to come in and save them from the other white men? There's no depth here either. No surprises. It's like someone took a Hollywood Mad Libs script book and followed the formula. Hell- Cameron doesn't even bother to tell us WHY unobtanium (and dear god, what a dumb name! Why not “Hardtogetium” or “Rareicity” or “MacGuffinanium”?) is so important! Is it fuel? Food? Medicine? You want depth in this story? Tell us there's a plague ravaging Earth, and the only way to save the human race is to mine unobtanium (though I guess then it would be “panaceaithium”). have some of these characters desperate to find another way, but needing to ensure the survival of their children on Earth. Nope- we just get that the Corporation wants this stuff 'cuz its 'spensive. Quite the cliché.

And speaking of clichés, here's the part that really got my goat about this film. The portrayal of the military. My own commentary on my Firm on this very Blog has shown there are plenty of people in the military willing to dehumanize the enemy and exploit poor situations. However, the military is also full of some of the finest, most honorable, most intelligent, and caring people on this planet. Many do their jobs to make Earth and America a better place, not just to get resources of value for the Corporation. Yet in this film, the only military characters who show the slightest bit of empathy for the Na'vi are the ones who have been properly deprogrammed by working with the scientists; Jake Sully and Michelle Rodriguez's Scorpion pilot Trudy Chacon. Trudy's been flying these scientists out on their missions, and loves the beauty of the world. She is the sole pilot to disregard the order to bomb the Na'vi tribe's “Hometree,” this tribes homeland for all of history, full of women and children. EVERY other pilot and Marine launches. Every other member of the military shown on screen is perfectly happy to slaughter the blue people because corporate said so (except of course for Jake Sully, who may only be resisting because of the tail... his and Neytiri's). Cameron has dealt with the military in a Science Fiction setting before. The Colonial Marines in Aliens are felled a bit by their arrogance, however most of them are sympathetic characters (CPL Hicks in particular, and even the dipshit Hudson isn't evil) on a mission to save human colonists- in the end those Marines are every bit as exploited by the Corporation Weland-Yutani as the colonist sacrificed to the Xenomorphs are. Even in The Abyss, the SEAL Team leader trying to blow up the aliens is a) trying to do what he thinks is right to save the humans from evil aliens, and b) suffering from madness due to high pressure syndrome. Not here; here in this remake of a film which showed how awful we were in the 1870s, we get Manifest Destiny Marines in the future. Now, maybe I am being over sensitive, but I have a tough time thinking Cameron is trying to remind us of what happened to the American Indian. This would seem to be a message pointed more toward modern day, and since the script and film were developed while GW Bush was still on office, I have a tough time thinking I shouldn't imagine unobtanium as oil, and RDA as Haliburton. Does this mean I should be imagining the soulless, heartless, killing machines perfectly happy to carry out genocide at the request of their corporate masters as... well, me? That seems like a pretty personal affront to me and people like me who put our lives on the line in service to our country. Our leaders goals may be skewed at times, and some of us do certainly lose our way, but to generalize so willingly and unapologetically was more than a bit troubling to me. I kept hoping the movie would surprise me with a twist to break the stereotypes in character, story, and military vilification; nope, we rode it all the way out to Jake leaving his battered, broken, inferior body behind in favor of new blue hotness after leading those noble savages to defeat the evil humans and drive them from the planet.

Again, maybe I am being too sensitive, but I remember another movie came out a few years ago, “Final Fantasy.” It was full CGI, had great production design, a sexy CGI lead, and centered around a Gaia situation being exploited by an evil military officer. “Avatar” doesn't even manage to offend me with any originality.

I am however looking forward to the sequel where the human ships return and don't even bother to land before razing the surface from orbit, magic tree and all. Perhaps by the third film in the trilogy, Jake will show the few surviving Na'vi how to build casinos...

Choose for yourself what you think of it. As a conservationist, it offended me with it's simplistic take on why we should protect our environment. As an SF fan, it offended me as being so derivative of other, better films, and for the laziness involved in developing a truly alien culture. As a member of my firm, it offended me with it's simplistically brutal portrayal of my honorable profession. As someone who wants to see us put aside our differences and reach out into the stars as one world (yeah, I said it), it offended me to say the future is more of the same.

Why can't I have a science fiction movie where human and alien come together, overcome their differences, and put aside barbaric concepts like greed and avarice, while showing a military both strong and humanitarian?





Oh yeah. Live Long and Prosper.

Happy 43rd, Star Trek!

Yes indeed, it is that time of the year again. The Great Bird of the Galaxy has let our planet revolve around the sun one more time, and we again find ourselves on Trek Day! To celebrate Trek day this year, I made a custom Mirror Universe Sulu based on the new movie, and wanted to share a special Trek story with you as we all huddle around the glow of the intermix chamber and quietly sip our Saurian Brandy.




Once when I was but a young inquisitor for my firm, I was working for a pretty cool boss who was going to go have a nice little meet with a member of one of our competing firms (we were trying to get that firm to work with our firm, so it was actually a friendly conversation in a Neutral Zone!). We went to pick that guy up, when suddenly, he was joined by a DIFFERENT member of his firm, who was there to make sure he didn't say too much to my boss. In the old days, some people would call that guy a “political officer.” So, my boss asked me to distract the Political Officer so she could speak freely with the Officer she actually wanted to butter up and question.

We went to a cafe in the Eastern European city we were in, and we all ordered our food and “kava c shlagam” (coffee with cream) and sat down to chat. I immediately went to work trying to get the attention of the political officer, and was having a poor time of it. What does a 25 year old American, still just an E4, have to say to a 50 year old Eastern European political officer wearing Colonel rank? While fishing for subjects, I mentioned that back in the days before I joined my firm, my friends called me “Spock.” He immediately turned to me, his eyes wide.

“Spock like 'Star Trek'?” he asked. I confirmed that and told him I was a huge fan.



























So was he. We spent hours mulling over the fine details of “The Corbomite Manuever” and “Balance of Terror” and since he'd never had a chance to see it, I was able to fill him in on the Next Generation, and first couple seasons of Deep Space Nine. He was enthralled. We were still talking Trek long after my boss had finished doing her thing with the guy who was actually the objective.

When we started to leave, this former Communist Political Officer- enforcer of his Empire's will, gave the young American his address and asked if he would send some Trek his way if he ever got the chance. I had to tell him there were rules which prevented that, and he obviously understood, though was a bit sad. Still, he thanked me, and asked if it was OK if we met again when my boss met with his friend again. Just to talk. He wanted to show me his Trek scrap book.























Mission constraints quite unfortunately prevented me from seeing him again. What an incredible experience though to be able to reach out and find camaraderie with a man who should have been an enemy. Knowing that for those three hours we were just fans discussing our beloved Star Trek meant a lot to me, and was a lesson on how to deal with other cultures and countries. I think it would have made Gene Roddenberry proud.


Here we are in the 43rd year of Trek, and it is stronger than ever with a new lease on life in the terrific new film. May the Great Bird of the Galaxy bless our planet for another year (at least until New Trek 2 comes out!).
















And of course, goodnight Jolene Blalock, wherever you are...

Memorial Day

So, for Memorial Day I am going to talk about Christopher. Infantry guy from Roswell, New Mexico. Married, had a little girl. Loved rock music, particularly Black Label Society. He had a big BLS flag which hung over his rack in the barracks. Had a sweet little electric guitar he used to play along to their albums to, along with an amp which would occasionally piss off the people in the bay with him. He loved old rock too- Tom Petty, Skynard of course. Had a fair amount of Johnny Cash.

He wasn't politically stupid either. Read a lot of Right side stuff; some O'Reilly etc., but also had a well dog-eared copy of Howard Zinn's “A People's History of the United States.” He liked video games, usually ones where he did what he did in real life- war games where you go out and shoot the bad guy and keep going until someone gets you. He had his games crammed in with his movies- mostly stuff he'd bought there in Iraq, playing the games and the movies on a little TV he'd crammed into his little space with his guitar and music and books.

When I met him, all that were left were these mementos. I went through it, item by item, meeting the man with whom I would never speak. Filing the pictures of his wife and daughter. Counting the CDs (nearly 300!) and movies and placing all of it into footlockers, carefully inventoried and then locked away.

Christopher and his squad walked into a building north of Baqubah, Iraq that morning, and the entire thing blew up on them, killing him and his entire squad. I was the officer who inventoried and packed his things to make the trip home he never would. I was sorely tempted to put a note, some little piece of comfort or condolence for his wife and daughter, but luckily I was wise enough to forego this; I didn't really know him. I only knew what was left. I only had an evidentiary connection to who he had been, and somehow in my mind that created a relationship of some kind, a bond with a man with whom I had a lot in common, but whose name I only learned when I was handed the info sheet with his name, last, first, middle initial across the top. I had no right to him though, and what could I say to his wife or child except, “he seemed like a good guy.”

It's been more than a year and a half since I put together Christopher's personal effects. He still comes to mind when I see a Black Label Society t-shirt, or hear Tom Petty's “Full Moon Fever.” I hope his family has learned to cope, and I hope they remember him fondly. Even though I have no right to...

...I miss him. Weird huh? For Memorial Day, I ask you all to remember someone who shouldn't be gone, but since they are, should be missed.

Y'all don't come back now, y'hear?

So, Texas Governor Rick Perry while speaking as a tea-bagger (snort) mentioned secession. Secession because a fairly elected president who can be voted out in less than four years raised taxes (for 2% of the people, we'll talk about the deficit later).

I have long said the best thing I ever saw in my career with my firm was Texas in the rear view mirror.

Let us know how your Southern Border fares with no Federal Law Enforcement. I can only ask why you couldn't have done it before you foisted W. on us...

The End of the Second Babylonian Exile

Well ladies, gentlemen, and all others who might possibly tune back into this fallow blog, I have returned to the Homeland, and left the dust, grime, carnage, and blood of Babylon once more behind me. Yet another bit of service to my firm is done, and I can look forward now to…

Well, the third Babylonian Exile. Not immediate of course, but I have no illusions that my service to the South Canadian Empire will not lead me to again breathe the acrid stench of burning garbage, fecal matter, and high explosive that is Babylon. It is only my hope that I cannot in a few years coyly write a blog entry called “Babylon 5.” That will suck.

So why have I been so quiet? Well, my firm has decided to keep an eye on those who would blogify their experiences in Babylon. Ostensibly, this is to prevent Faux News style gaps in operational security (while here I watched a Faux News reporter describe on national television the inner workings of a system so secret I don’t even want to mention it here because I am sure it is a keyword search for the No Such Agency). However, I am somehow loathe to want to register my free thoughts with the modern equivalent of a political officer. So, I have bottled up all kinds of stuff, mentally relieving myself once on leave (last entry) and now with my triumphant return to the Homeland. Oh what a difference months can make.

If you will look below, you will see I made comment that my firm can be taught. I now know that my firm can also forget everything it learned. Somehow, as if a switch was flipped, or I slid through a strange gap in the Space/Time Continuum, my return form leave to Babylon brought me to a unit operating as if it were the halcyon days of 2004. Precise targeting for apprehension gave way to hearsay, and we again put a huge wall between the left hand and the right hand. My hope has been pretty well beaten out of me as I watch us not understand who our enemy is, not understand how to keep friends, and not understand why people want to blow us up. Oy. At least the explosions keeping me up all night this time were outgoing, and I can say it rained metal on me and my comrades much less than before.

Why the hell aren’t we running out of Babylonians to blow up? Because, when you blow one up, it ticks off his fellow tribe members. “Tribe? Well that’s a silly reason to want to kill someone! Why aren’t they acting like South Canadians and just sucking it up?” Because, Einstein, they are BABYLONIANS AND THEY THINK AND ACT LIKE BABYLONIANS!!!! In this culture, if you kill a tribe or family member, regardless of how friendly your two tribes are, there’s a debt of honor that must be paid. Usually with something explosive.

Another little factor is what I call the “I want your goat” factor. Joe the Babylonian wants Frank the Babylonian’s goat. It is a very simple matter to find a member of my firm and say, “Frank is a terrorist!” Early in this tour, we would wait for a few guys to say Frank was a terrorist. By the end, Joe didn’t even have to write it down and we would storm into Joe’s house in the middle of the night and whisk him away to talk to Imperial Inquisitors. Time passes, Joe comes home to find his goat gone, along with most of his worldly possessions, and possibly his daughters or wife, Joe gets angry. Poof! Instant terrorist. It is also amusing to watch the tribal leaders swear the rival tribes’ males are all terrorists, and likely harboring Usamah bin Laden himself. After all, they are the same sect, and everyone knows you can’t trust a (insert opposite sect here).

So, what progress has five years in Babylon made? Well… I really didn’t see any. There are pockets of normalcy, but the simple fact is these people are killing each other in droves and we are basically a single finger in a very large, very creaky dike. I hope, I hope, I hope. I wish, I wish, I wish. But I don’t see it getting better anytime soon, and for every step forward we sponsor, we then take a couple in reverse.

“WHY DAN? WHY IS BABYLON SO FRACKED UP?” as Starbuck would ask. I have a very short succinct answer that will get me in trouble with a lot of people for whom I care deeply:

Religion.

Oh wait, allow me to elucidate. It’s not Islam I have an issue with, though primarily it is not my bag. The issue is fundamentalism. A belief system of any sort so close-minded, so intractable, so self-righteous it cannot allow for even the possibility that it might have some things wrong and someone else might have some things right. See, if I can’t be wrong, you can’t be right unless you believe exactly what I do. If that’s my base assumption, I start going from there. I can never allow anyone to change what I think, and anyone who offers a counter-opinion is not only wrong, but a problem. And even if I am firm in my faith, what if some infidel decides to talk to my children when I am not around? Then, someone who believes differently is not just wrong, they become…

A threat. The very existence of a different way of thinking is a threat to my family, my tribe, my culture. I have to stop them, I must keep my faith pure. Besides, if they don’t believe like I do, they aren’t in God’s favor anyway, He won’t mind if I discriminate to keep them away for my kids. Or shun. Or banish. Or murder. Heck, I bet God WANTS me to kill people who don’t believe like I do! That means more opportunity for people on the right path to succeed, so long as there are less infidels.

Another aspect of fundamentalism is the idea that you hold no responsibility because anything that happens is God’s will. In Arabic, this is “Insha’ Allah-” as God wills it. This answer is handed out whenever you ask someone why they don’t make things better, why they don’t actually stop the bad guys? Insha’ Allah. C’est La Vie. Que Sara Sara. Predestination. Fate. There is nothing I can do, because it is all up to God, He has removed all responsibility and culpability from me. I have actually seen Babylonian soldiers puzzled that we want them to practice marksmanship- if God wants them to hit the target, they will. Practice is futile. Making a decision is futile. Taking hold of your future is futile.

Sound familiar? Willing to kill those who don’t think like me, and denying all responsibility for your actions? That’s what leads to people crashing airplanes into sky scrapers. That’s what leads honest citizens to feed other citizens into ovens. That’s what leads to people burning down Black churches or Synagogues. That’s what leads to Jihads/Crusades, which are the same thing in a different language; killing in the name of God. I am sorry. It’s wrong to kill I the name of God, and that is what I am intractable about. If God wanted us killing each other, the Israelites wouldn’t have a commandment saying “You will not Murder.” Jesus would not have gotten nailed to a tree for telling people to love each other. Muhammad wouldn’t have tried to pull warring Arab tribes together under the banner of a religion whose very name means “of Peace.” I could go into Karma, and Nirvana, and a myriad of other religions that all agree on one thing- God wants us working together not whacking one another. When does it go wrong? How does “Love one another as I have loved you” become the Spanish Inquisition?

Intractability. Intolerance. Fundamentalism. Nearly every conflict on Earth right now can somehow be traced to Fundamentalist belief in something- Wahabbist Islam, Fanatical Zionism, (insert ethnicity here) Supremacy, dogmatic Christian intolerance, the Almighty Dollar.

And several of those fundamentalist beliefs come together in Babylon. And that my dear Starbuck, is why Babylon is so fracked up. And no one believes we can really do anything about it, because Insha’ Allah.

Don’t misunderstand me -- I am all about protecting MY way of life. I am all about defending MY family, and nation, and people. Unlike most people who like to bitch about such things*, I actually took an oath and put my life on the line to “support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic, and to bear true faith and allegiance to the same.” When I see though how my Firm is being crushed by the intractable fundamentalism of the Babylonians as it slams up against the intractable fundamentalism of my nation’s decision makers, I can’t help but think this sick, tired, over spent, frustrated, angry force is going to have a hell of a time defending MY way of life, MY family, MY nation, and MY people when a serious threat crops up.

So, as my Second Babylonian Exile ends, I look forward to the third one, whenever that may be. It is my earnest hope that Babylon is the worst fight my Firm ever has to deal with again.

History tells me it won’t be. So make your choice my South Canadian Empire, my beloved fellow citizens of my United States of America. Do we keep fumbling around in Babylon, rubbing our fundamentalism on theirs? Or do we regroup, reassess, and redirect toward where a real threat may actually be? Where Al-Qa’ida has regrouped in the mountains between Pakistan and Afghanistan? Where China waits for us to blink with the ability to raise an Army equal to our entire population? Where fundamentalists in the former Soviet Bloc are passing nuclear materials like they are cards in a bridge tournament? Where the actual source of most of our oil is under an arrogant twit like Hugo Chavez? To be fair, you should know what happens to Babylon when we leave.

Blood. Blood on a scale that makes what we spill now look like something we can slap a band-aid on. But it is a decision too important to leave to fate, too important to not let out nation’s decision makers (who I will remind you WORK FOR YOU) know what you think. Don’t give me any Insha’ Allah crap, get up, make a decision, make your voice heard, whichever track you follow. Choose America, choose what you want. But for Gods’ sake, actually make a choice, don’t just sit there waiting for someone to make the decision for you, for someone else to take responsibility.

Your protectors are tired. And we’d really like to do something right.


*as I read over the above, I would like to add a small caveat. As you choose, as you research, check facts, and make an informed decision I ask one more thing. If you choose war, and that’s fine if you honestly believe it, if you choose war put your ass behind your decision. Five million people make up your complete armed forces. All of it. There are 300 million Americans. Yeah, I know that includes children and the elderly, and those who have already served and paid their way as citizens. However, if one percent- just three million more Americans, put their lives on hold for five years and served in the military the burden would be immeasurably lessened on those here now. And I say, particularly if you think the occupation of Babylon is a good idea (and I am not arguing either way right now) it seems to me you have an obligation.

However, it is very possible right now I am just tired and disgruntled, and after all misery loves company.

Bloggy Mountain Breakdown

Oh, so long overdue, but it is time for an update! Seven months in Babylon, and currently on leave, I have the time to ponder a bit before heading back to do another seven or so (thanks for the 15 month rotations! They REALLY increase morale!). So, here now are seven things I have learned in seven months in Babylon.

1) The Mandolin. The lovely Jennifer denied me something for the first time ever—a banjo. I am sure some of you are “yes, we understand,” while a small, small minority says “but the banjo is so cool!” Not to be discouraged, I went looking for other ways to appease my jangly bluegrass fixations, and a mandolin was approved. Now, I will tell you that I am no Bill Monroe, and certainly not a Flatt or Scruggs (pardon my sacrilege, and my age I can never remember which one was the mandolin player, and which was the banjoist. I am however listening to the Flatt and Scruggs “Bonnie and Clyde” album as I write this and it is beyond phenomenal if you have never heard it). The Mandolin is however a lot of fun to play, and has provided me some fine distractions.

2) My current firm can be taught. Despite all the missteps I have previously related in this blog, the Army of the South Canadian Empire is really actually doing a better job this time around. The proper application of carrot and stick works with the Babylonians, and not to say I told them so, but, I told them so.

3) Anything less than 10 years will not help Babylon. Don’t know that my firm can sustain that.

4) Morale is directly connected to boot comfort.

5) Morale is directly connected to the ability to Skype with the lovely Jennifer.

6) I have given up on Marvel Comics, and really hope DC pulls its head out of its arse. The whole Marvel Civil War/World War Hulk/Dead Captain America/Dead Aunt May thing just blows really. The Marvel universe is just not a fun place to visit anymore. DC did some neat things with the Infinite Crisis and 52, but having events for the sake of events is getting tiresome. Countdown blows, and here’s a novel concept for you; how about focusing on giving me 22 pages of good story. We’ve had the big events, you’ve re-written the universe. Now, go play in the big new sandbox. To completely shoot down my own argument though, let me say I am really enjoying the Sinestro War in the Green Lantern titles. The shadow of Alan Moore falls heavily there though, and I will never forgive them if the kill Mogo-- just so we are clear DiDio.

7) My favorite human is the lovely Jennifer. Still and always. The separations never get easier, and my goal in life is to get to the end of my career so I never have to leave her side again. She is my heart and soul, my night and day, and the love of any life I might have lived or yet live. Even if she won’t let me have a banjo.

Alas, Babylon...

Well, I'm going where the weather suits my clothes. Be safe all, and expect irony laden posts about Babylon soon...

Scooby Doo and War with Persia

First, go read this:
http://www.slate.com/id/2157397/?GT1=9010

Now, here's my take; I blame a lot of the problems of the South Canadian Empire on Scooby-Doo. Oh, you heard me- Scoob screwed us. How did Scooby do this?

1) The bad guy is just out to scare you off, and has no intention of actually doing any damage.

2) You don't need a plan to find an answer, just stumble around in the dark until you find the bad guy's secret stash. This will make your whole plan fall into place.

3) Once you catch and unmask the bad guy, the whole thing is over because every bad guy has the same plan; make yourself all scary and chase off the good guys. As soon as the bad guy is revealed, he is powerless and humiliated.

4) Scappy Doo sucks.

With the possible exception of point four, it would seem even the Great and Powerful W, leader of the South Canadian Empire, used the lessons of Scooby Doo to plan the invasion of Babylon (unless of course you compare Donnie R. to Scrappy... yeah, OK I can see that, point 4 too). The worst part is, we the People are the fooled cousin to Fred or Velma. You know, the cousin who thought they were threatened by the monster/ghost? Then in comes the Mystery Machine, hilarity ensues and thanks to those meddling kids, scary old Mr. Saddam is revealed to just be a guy in a bad mask. Many of us (enough for me to say "we" regardless of what any individual may have said)also let W and his Mystery Machine just completely screw Babylon up. Hey, mistakes were made. We decided to change that. There was an election, and all that ambiguity gets cleared up by the fact that the then ruling party became the minority party faster then Scooby and Shaggy down a bag of... Scooby Snacks. That'll send a message. Now we have advisors (Babylon Study Group), and a clear indication that things should be different.

Oh, it's gonna be different all right- we're going to hit Persia too! See, Emperor W just moved another South Canadian Carrier group into the Persian Gulf. He also just put a Navy Pilot in charge of ground forces in Babylon. Hmm, we don't need aeroplanes or Squids in Baby... Wait! Airstrikes in Persia would need that stuff! Well, so long as we don't like raid a consulate or- D'Oh! (Sorry- mixed my cartoon metaphors.) Jinkies!

Now, my firm is the group that gets Surged; Yes True Believers, I will be back in Babylon "Reel Sune" (to quote Emilio Lizardo). But here's the thing; I am apparently going to act as bait to get the Persians out from behind their wall so we can pick a fight with them too...I am now Shaggy or Scooby sent into the dark cave to draw out the monsters so W's Fred, Daphne, and Velma can jump out and rip the bad guys' masks off- or hit them with an airstrike or two. And I'm not even getting the Scooby Snack or an offer to feel up Daphne later (or Fred for that matter, but honestly my firm frowns on that too).

You would think we would have learned by now that the people living in that part of the world are not just wearing scary masks- they are wearing the vestiments of fanatics, and will kill or die until there is no one left on either side. It is a culture that glorifies death even more than our own, and that's a lot of killin'.

Read my old posts, or just let me reiterate; I think we were right to rip the mask off Saddam, but then we didn't do what we should have to make Babylon work. My fear is it's too late. It's too late to stop two groups who have wanted to whack each other for years from trying to whack each other. Perhaps there is a solution, I hope so.

That solution is not however having Emperor W write a verbal check that my firm's ass can't cover. We can't open another front. Let the Flintstones or Johnny Quest handle the Persians. My firm needs some time resting up in the Mystery Machine. Otherwise when the real monsters come calling, it'll just be Scrappy between us and them...

...and I hate that fucker.

Ding Dong...

The New Rulers of Babylon hanged the Old Ruler of Babylon. There are two things that disturb me about this. Before I get into that though, let me state that if anyone does deserve capital punishment, it would be this Dick...tator. His crimes were horrendous, and a far better excuse for the South Canadian Empire to invade than weapons of mass delusion. Few are higher on my list (except Celine Dion of course).

But what disturbs me? First, that the official state executioners, according to the single fastest intelligence service on the planet (See En En), decided to invoke the name of (name not changed to protect the guilty) Muqtada Al Sadr. That takes this firmly out of the range of state execution and into sectarian assassination. This will do nothing but make the Former Dick...tator a martyr to the Sunnis, both in Babylon and without. That will not bring stability to the region in any way.

Secondly, how See En En has decided to become Snuff News. See En En is showing execution video. I would expect that low level pseudo-journalism from Faux News (and got it by the way, since they proudly announced they were seeking such videos- the website featured one of the worst pics of Saddam ever with bright red capital letters proclaiming "HANGED!" Way to be fair and balanced assholes). I expect more from See En En though. This cheap sensationalism sickens me and shows the same disregard for human life that those who are dancing in celebration show- the same lack of regard for human life that made the Dick...tator the monster he was. Ending human life is sometimes necessary. Celebrating death is an affront to God and Man.

Updates, updates, updates, shouted to an empty room.

Well, it doesn’t take long for several months to go by without updating your blog, now does it? Well, I guess it actually takes several months. Time flies when you are hellaciously busy. Lots going on in my firm as my little corner of it prepares for a return to Babylon. Oh yes, true believers, I am on the train back. The glimmer of hope that I got this last week though is that it seems various bits of leadership within my firm are beginning to realize the types of mistakes that have led to the current situation there. Little things like cultural knowledge and respect are beginning to matter! It only took four years… Now if only we could get that message across to the highest levels of Imperial management.

The British apparently have found a map made by Lawrence of Arabia in regard to how he proposed to establish boundaries and borders in that region; get this, it was based on religious and tribal locations. Hmm… I wonder if we can get a copy of that to our Imperial leadership?

In far less Earth-shattering, but much more entertaining matters, I just watched the digital re-mastering of the original Star Trek. The cleanliness of the picture was delightful, but I had actually expected more to be done with the special effects. I suppose they were a little gun-shy from Lucas and his molesting of his own intellectual property, but the problems I have there are more with changing story and character moments, and not making the original available. I think classic Trek would be well served by bringing some of its visuals in line with the newer series’. Seeing the 1701 do the stretchy warp and flash would make me drool. Of course, I am a big geek.

Speaking of being a big geek, I recently met Greg Rucka, book and comic author, and guy who got me reading comics again after a long absence with his work on the Batman character. As an aspiring (read that wanna be) comic book writer myself, it was very interesting to get his insights into writing and the industry in general, and get some scoopy gossip on other comic writers. His admiration for Grant Morrison is apparent, but then so is mine, and some of the comments made about “All Star Batman and Robin the Boy Wonder” seemed to be along my thoughts on that incredibly lame book. Overall, Mr. Rucka was a very pleasant guy with a good sense of humor and a sharp wit. Glad he’s out there writing my comics for me.

And beyond that we approach ever closer to the best of all holidays- Halloween! I am likely to Batman again, as I have just purchased a rather pricey cape to fill out my outfit. My son, last year my World’s Finest companion of Superman, has instead purchased a man-sized chicken outfit. Yes indeed- a 6’2” chicken. Odd boy, that one. My daughter has moved beyond that Darth Vader fetish, and now will dress as herself as a Sith. Turning to the dark side, and likely never coming back. And the lovely lady Jennifer? As always, the lovely Lady Jennifer will be the lovely Lady Jennifer, and I wouldn’t have her any other way.

Well maybe with some pointed ears or a plaid skirt… Maybe.

North by Northwest

Our Moral Compass. We all have one, for better or worse. Gives us our directions of Right Action. Mine usually shows up as that little voice in the back of the head that tells you when things aren’t quite right. Is it the voice of guilt? Sometimes, but like those cliché angel and demon that pop up on your shoulders, every little good voice in the back of your head has a little bad counterpart that thinks it would be a good idea to take the last cookie, throw a party while Mom and Dad are away, or institute a plan of ethnic cleansing across southern Europe.

I will admit that I have been under a fair amount of stress lately. Though admittedly the “things that blow up really good and throw fast moving sharp pieces of metal” quotient has diminished, the inverse of that is more of the ones that would send those things our way are waiting for my inquisitional skills. They’re off the streets and I spend much of my time sitting in a small room with people who would just as soon see me bleed, asking if they can tell me where their bad guy friends are. As a result of my stress, I have found my mind wondering to places I freely admit I am not comfortable with it going. Nothing to do with torture and such, I’m just not the guy to do that, and I really don’t entertain thoughts of it. Times though, I just want to kill folks.

Easy now, I’m not sharpening my knives and making victim lists, but as abhorrent as I find killing I just sometimes run into people that in a cold dispassionate way I think would make the world a better place by leaving it. Then, the guilt sets in for thinking that way. I don’t really want to kill people says saintly figure on right shoulder, and let them taste their own blood says horned figure on left shoulder. Yes I belong to an organization that kills people and breaks things, but in my career I have yet to confront the first one of those. I’m hoping I don’t have to, I really hope I don’t have to.

So, dealing with the death dealing, I go looking for solace elsewhere. And what goes with violence? See, my life mate is well chosen. Pretty much perfect for me. And she is my solace: in heart, in soul, and certainly in body. There is nothing that cleanses my demons better than kind words, acceptance, and physical contact. It can be as simple as a hand on mine, or hours of sweat-drenched, breath-taking… well I’m sure you get the idea.

But what do I do when she’s not here? I can’t tell you how happy I am the darling of my life is not in Babylon. Yet I yearn for her touch and her love. Without her here, the yearning doesn’t stop. The need for that acceptance and touch is just as strong, perhaps stronger because there is no release. And there comes the guilt again, the warning signs that keep us all members of society or families. But as with the other issue the thought is there. The little red guy with the horns telling me what to do and how to hide it. The guy with the halo though, sets him straight. But…

What if my moral compass pointed South? What if I could slaughter my way across Babylon and fuck whoever was left? What if for a single day I cast aside every compunction, every ethic, every little shred of moral decency that keeps me on the majority of people-I-like’s good sides? If I actually held down that Babylonian and used my ballpoint pen to do major cerebral adjustment through an eye socket? If the glance young girl-soldier gave me was pursued to the creative use of an empty tank? What happens then, when I become one of the bad guys? Do you come back from that, can you?

I really need to go home. I am tired of being this way, tired of contemplating how much I would be satisfied doing the wrong thing. The Negative surrounds me, and I feel it pulling my compass needle away from north, away from the Right, away from Her. Without her, I am another one of the masses that make the world worse instead of better.

I don’t know what takes one charismatic leader and allows him to become Jesus, and makes another Adolf Hitler. What makes a brilliant leader Gandhi, or another Napoleon? The things around us? Jesus got Mary Magdelene, Adolf got mustard gas. God gave me Her. I have Her. Except right now I don’t. I have mortars and rockets. I have…

…to hold on. Just a little while longer, I hope. Before everything goes South.

December!

For the love of Yahweh, it is already December. That's actually good, making it all the sooner I will be leaving Babylon and returning to a more civilized place where the preferred method of civil disobedience is public drunken nudity rather than beheading. I may consider engaging in some drunken public nudity myself. My firm doesn't look kindly on that, but they try to make us all wear the same earth-tones outfits as well, and they do nothing for my hips.

On the lighter side, I got some new comic books in the mail today, and they are good. I also recently re-reread the first three volumes of the collected "Powers" series by Bendis and Oeming. I never fail to be blown away by their ability to tell some pretty devastatingly emotional tales with artwork that is stylistically reminiscent of the "DC Adventures" comics. I don't think anyone can deny the impact of Olympia's wife's reaction to his public death and the revelations that he had taken comfort from hundreds of groupies. I think they go five or six pages with no dialogue, and it is great.

Finished a horribly disappointing book- Jonathan Carrol's "White Apples." He excelled at creating truly weird moments, but just couldn't bring it all together in the end. His God-concept is pretty good though, as much as the story goes nowhere. Maybe I just didn't get it, but I really was left with the feeling there was nothing to get.

Watched a really fascinating movie recently; "Return to Oz." now, this is a movie that was lambasted when it came out, I'm sure because it is far more true to the source material than magnesia classic ever thought of being. Sure, who doesn't love Judy singing "Over the Rainbow?" This is a different type of trip though. Notably, it is Fairuza Balk's first film, as a more age appropriate Dorothy. The film also involves serial decapitation, electro-shock therapy, inanimate objects brought to life, people turning to sand, and the only villains in movie history as creepy as Flying monkeys, the Wheelers. It's really a well made film though, with Jim Henson's shop working overtime on the animatronics, Will Vinton's claymation, and some great imagery that didn't rely on computer effects to make a movie. Don't expect musical goodness, but it is well worth checking out. I don't think you can play "Dark Side of the Moon" along with it though...

I'll tell you what else I have to talk about- William Shatner's "Has Been" album. Now, one could probably argue this is a Ben Folds album with Shatner narrating, but the damn thing is bloody brilliant. I defy anyone to find a better study on classism than "Common People" or anything more chilling than Shatner confronting his deceased wife in "What Have You Done?"

Arrogance. We The People of the United States are full of it. In a lot of ways, we kinda earn that right. For all our troubles and blemishes, the vast majority of our country lives in safety and health, and does not go to bed hungry. Our poorest are better off than most of the planet (if you have ten bucks in your pocket, you have more money than some 75% of the worlds population). We are so good in so many ways, but we let that go to our heads. We enjoy freedom and our Republic, and we believe everyone else must want what we have right? A lot do- but not everyone. Not everyone knows what it means. Not everyone knows that with freedom comes responsibility. You have to be involved for freedom to work, you have to be accountable for freedom to work. We cannot expect people to have never had the right to think for themselves to do it right overnight. We have to teach them (or not push ourselves in them in the first place, and let them earn freedom like we did...).

I don't know what all these subjects in this post have to do with one another, but they are all in my head. Maybe it is the approaching Babylonian winter, or the spring that will (hopefully) take me home, but my mind's a scramble right now. It is a swirl of the inane and the severe, the important, and the really-way-not-important.

A beautiful woman sent me pictures of herself today. That made me happier than my comics.