The Language of War

I sit here after a workout filled with techniques on how to beat an opponent quickly, efficiently and brutally. I sit here filling my mind with images of war and bloodshed in Band of Brothers. There is beauty in the carnage, the death, the destruction and the effective use of it all. It sickens me, and I learn about it; I study it; I practice it, and I vainly hope to God I never ever see its like in reality.

What in the name of all that's holy and good possesses people (and I use the term lightly and with no small amount of derision) to find something--anything--so important as to cause the death and suffering of other people? What, power? Land? Resources? Money? Different gods? Is it worth it? Really?

I'll tell you what's worth causing the kind of suffering war brings to fighting men and women and their children. It's people that allow their greed and lust for power, land, resources, money and different gods to overcome their general decency, their very humanity in order to satisfy those lusts. These are the people that cause others who would normally not want to kill have to kill. These are the people that typically never have to kill--they only create "policy" that requires others to do their dirty work. These are the ones who are deserving of the hell that they inflict on others for their lust. Terrorists all, pretending to be statesmen. God damn them all. Course, as always, they'll be doing that themselves. I'm good with that.

Don't get me wrong: right now there are times and events that require war. There are even times when going on the offensive to neutralize a clear and present danger is needed. Damn those who create that necessity. They'll go to hell, and I won't shed a tear to see them there. And I will wade through the beautiful filth that are the skills to defend myself from these drooling demons in human form, as I curse those that create that demand, reveling in its fluidity and formless, horrid beauty.

I study two languages. Both are beautiful. Both reveal a man's soul. I prefer the language of Peace.

The Hypocrisy of the New Messiah

I'll admit I'm not the sharpest brick in the sack of drawers, but honestly, who can't see through the foolishness of this "stimulus bill" drafted by our fearless, holy leader?

Who remembers Bush being continually slammed for his attempts at putting money back in the pockets of companies so they could employ more people, and therefore allow those people opportunity to spend more and keep the economy rolling? Who remembers the derisive word used? "Trickle-down Economics." What an idiot, that Bush, thinking that the money will trickle down from companies to employees to companies.

Let's consider how this new brilliant piece of dog-shtimulus coming down the pike will stimulate the ecomony.

Question: How will giving money to these government programs help stimulate the economy?

Answer: You give the money to the government programs. They give the money to needy companies. Needy companies can then employ and pay needy employees. Needy employees can then buy stuff, thereby stimulating the economy!

So...Obama and his cronies aren't for trickle down economics, but they're for trickle-trickle down...? That's so much better!

Why Appearances Don't Matter

So I spend an extra few minutes in the restroom, making sure my face is free of debris and my nose is free of...debris. You see, I was planning on going to the System's Architect to ask a question, and I wanted the focus to be on what I was saying, not on what about my face was distracting him. Satisfied, I went to the SA, asked my question, got the answer, and just couldn't figure out why he was grinning.

On my way back to my cubicle, I sensed something was definitely not right. Sure enough, the fly was undone. It must have been the breeze. Whatever it was, it became crystal clear that appearances--no matter how important they are to others--are completely the wrong focus; I'm clearly always going to have something distracting going on. Boog--uh...nose detritus, zits, dried skin, cowlicks, impressive gut, undone zippers.... And people wonder why my preferred method of communication is electronic.