"'We should not have gone to war knowing the information that we know today,' Kerry told ABC. 'Knowing there was no imminent threat to America, knowing there were no weapons of mass destruction, knowing there was no connection of Saddam Hussein to Al Qaida, I would not have gone to war. That's plain and simple.'"

So, once again, the Senator says that he would not have taken this country to war if: A) he had won an election that he didn't even run in, B) had knowledge that it was impossible to have at the time. Somehow implying that he would have done better.

Is he trying to convince someone that he is clairvoyant? What's the deal?

This is even better than when he accepted the gift of a shotgun that he voted to make illegal. It turns out that when the ban was in effect he owned a weapon covered by the ban!

I'm already drooling. My T2 is already looking ancient next to my boss' T3.

One of the first performances I ever did as a military musician was at an awards ceremony at an Army hospital.

The first awardee was a Specialist (E-4, equivalent to a Corporal, abbreviated SPC) who, on his off-duty time, sitting around the pool at his apartment complex, had saved a little girl who was drowning. An act, normally, that would receive the Soldier's Medal. (A peacetime bravery award) Instead, this soldier received the Army Achievement Medal. The lowest award that the Army has that gets a medal.

The second awardee was a Sergeant (E-5, the next higher rank) who was being recognized for decorating a conference room for a staff function. She received the Army Commendation Medal. The next higher award than the SPC had received, and the lowest "end of tour" award currently being given for service in Iraq.

Let's look at this comparison: saving a young child's life versus hanging some crepe paper. HHHhhmmmm...

I heard the justification was that the SPC hadn't received a medal before, and they couldn't justify giving him a higher award based on that. What has that got to do with anything?

Seen the same principle in action for the last 15 years. Still don't understand it.

Not going to say much about this one, either.

I would just suggest that you follow both the link at the top of the blog entry, and the one for the ad it talks of.

I would suggest that you read the linked blog entry from kos.

It's worth looking into.

Make sure that you follow the link near the top of that page and read all of the article that this is based on.

Also, make sure you follow the link further on down the page that talks about the government's response to what Al Lorentz wrote.

I loved the last template that I was using for the blog, but there were too many little things about it that didn't work quite right. So, I went back to a standard Blogger template, and made some customizations. Hope you like the new look and feel.

I noticed that it had been a week since I posted any Steven Wright. So, here is a bit of catching up.

I can remember the first time I had to go to sleep. Mom said, "Steven, time to go to sleep." I said, "But I don't know how." She said, "It's real easy. Just go down to the end of tired and hang a left." So I went down to the end of tired, and just out of curiosity I hung a right. My mother was there, and she said "I thought I told you to go to sleep."
-- Steven Wright

My theory of evolution is that Darwin was adopted.
-- Steven Wright

I wrote a song, but I can't read music so I don't know what it is. Every once in a while I'll be listening to the radio and I say, "I think I might have written that."
-- Steven Wright

I got up one morning and couldn't find my socks, so I called Information. She said, "Hello, Information." I said, "I can't find my socks." She said, "They're behind the couch." And they were!
-- Steven Wright

I was in a job interview and I opened a book and started reading. Then I said to the guy, "Let me ask you a question. Suppose you are in a space bus traveling at the speed of light, and you turn on the headlights--what happens?" He said, "How should I know?!" I said, "Forget it, I don't want to work for you."
-- Steven Wright

I've never seen electricity, so I don't pay for it. I write right on the bill, "I'm sorry, I haven't seen it all month."
-- Steven Wright

I have a decaffeinated coffee table. You'd never know it to look at it.
-- Steven Wright

I think everyone in the military felt it when the Cole was attacked.

I know that every military musician did.

There has been one military musician that won the Congressional Medal of Honor. An Army bugler that served during the Boxer Rebellion. Can't remember his name.

There has been one ship in US history named afer a military musician. A Marine trumpet player that served during WWII. When the fighting got too intense to play music, he served as machine gunner in a rifle platoon during the island hopping campaign in the Pacific. The ship named for him was the USS Cole.

To sum things up:

No. The Communist Party of America does not endorse John Kerry, per se.

They just want Bush to be defeated more than any other candidate, and they think Kerry has the best chance of doing that. So, they endorse the "defeat of Bush" by suggesting that you vote for Kerry.

Confusing enough?

This is really deceptive. It's typical of the "soundbite" mentality of today's media.

Most units currently in Iraq will not be taking their vehicles back to their home stations at the end of their deplyment. It's too simple to figure out.

Why transport a vehicle that is half a world away from here when there is already one on the ground here that can be used, and the people that are currently using it are going to leave?

It's called saving the tax payers money.

Imagine that.

Wow! Some people are incredibly slow on the uptake.

Every poll of "career" soldiers that have gotten out in the last few years have cited "increased operations tempo" (deployments) as the reason people who should have stayed to retirement, but didn't, got out of the Army.

There are around 135,000 troops in Iraq. Another 17,000, or so in Afghanistan. 37,000 in Korea. All of these troops rotate out after 12 months and are replaced. For a total of 189,000 a year on deployment, in just those three areas. (Let's not forget the troops we have deployed in Bosnia, Kosovo, and the Sinai, among other places) The Army has a standing strength of approximately 495,000.

Do the math. It's not that hard to figure out.

(These were sent to me in email)

This is amazing.

The Catholic clergy have become known for touching people in ways and places that they shouldn't for years, but a brawl in a church?

However, if they did this on Pay Per View, I betcha that "Sunday Slapdown" would make the churches involved a fortune!

Sure would beat anything on the 700 Club!

this was funny.

If you understand why I HAD to post this cartoon, then you will die laughing. If not, then I can't explain it.

And if betting Kerry doesn't work, the President could always "Double-Dog Dare" him to back up his claims.

Big Brother learns how to use office supplies, sort of.

The continuing story of what's going on with the "Patriot Act".

From what I can tell, Patriotism has nothing to do with it. It's like Blue Thunder meets 1984. Big Brother, apparently, is watching, and reading your email.

Okay, I know these storms are responsible for terrible devastation.

HOWEVER.

When I saw this headline last week, I couldn't help thinking:

Why hasn't anyone had Jeanne arrested, or at least tried to get a restraining order?

As for Ivan, he just belongs in jail. Shoot, in Texas, they will probably push him to the head of the line for lethat injection!

"The Democrats have complained bitterly about a new advertisement that shows Osama bin Laden, September 11 hijack leader Mohamed Atta, Saddam Hussein and the ruins of the World Trade Center, and questioned whether Kerry was up to dealing with them."

Huh, imagine that. It's, apparently, unfair to ask them to come up with answers to those questions. Or, at least, they think so.

As I sit here in Iraq, knowing that I have almost 5 years left on my military commitment, or to rephrase that, until the next Presidential term is over, for me, I can think of no question that is more pertinent at the moment. Yet, the Democrats think it is unfair to have to respond to that.

Well, Mr. Kerry, there are about 135,000 servicemen and women that deserve an answer to that question in Iraq, right now.

And, I am sorry, but the ads they are saying are unfair are from the new "527" organizations. You know what those are?

It's a new thing allowed by the legislation that restricted the "soft money" advertising that was said to be so bad. These ads are NOT funded by anyone's campaign, or by the parties. These are groups of voters that put their money together to voice their opinion. Hmmm ... can you say First Amendment, boys and girls?

Even better yet, Mr. Kerry has come out against the ads from 527 groups that do not support his campaign, but has encouraged for the 527 groups that do support his campaign. So, apparently, what is good for the goose is not good for the gander.

The President, on the other hand, not too long ago, asked ALL of the 527 groups to stop their ads, whether they supported him or not.

Is it just me, or do the Democrats sound like they are whining?

"When U.S. soldiers are in harm's way, the American people don't want jokes and fantasy spin from their president, they want to hear the truth."

Another nice sound bite from the Senator from Massachusetts.

Okay, Senator, if that is the case, and if you are going to be the next President, how do you justify voting for sending American troops to do a job, and then voting against actually paying for the equipment, and other things that they needed to do that job?

The truth now. No jokes or fantasy spin. I still haven't heard a satisfactory answer from you on that one.

"'I will lead our allies to share the burden.'"

Huh, nice soundbite, Senator.

Have you ever heard the one that goes: "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink."

It doesn't look like our allies are going to be drinking with you anytime soon on this one.

Interesting.

Kerry is against reforming Social Security through privatization. Yet, according to every expert in the field that the Democratic party has, former President Clinton in particular, the only choice are: raise taxes, cut benefits, or privatize.

Hmmm. So, Senator Kerry, just which of the other two do you prefer, and when do you plan on telling us?

Sounds like "Read my lips. No new taxes." all over again.

Hey! Someone in the Pentagon finally said that we might not have enough troops to do all of the stuff that the military is being tasked to do.

Congratulations to them on, finally, getting a grasp of the fairly obvious.

Some of the stats in this editorial are amazing.

But, I can't really say much. I have no idea who the Congressman is from the district that is my military home of record. (Haven't lived there in over 15 years, or been registered to vote there since then.) Or even from the district I was last registered to vote in. (Been away from there since June of 2002.)

When I was eight, I played Little League. I was on first; I stole third; I went straight across. Earlier that week, I learned that the shortest distance between two points was a direct line. I took advantage of that knowledge.


-- Steven Wright

I feel like posting pictures, again.

It struck me that I have talked a lot about being over here but I haven't shown you anything really. So, I've borrowed some pictures that my co-workers have taken, and am going to post them tonight. Some of these pictures are rather large, that's why I've only posted thumbnails. Click the picture to see it full-size.

This is Sarmad, one of the vendors in our bazaar, and Sergeant (SGT) Nicole Smith. She is the manager of the Sports Bar in the MWR building. The picture is taken behind the bar of the Sports Bar.

Sarmad acts as the head vendor in the bazaar. Translates for us, and runs the electronics booth in the bazaar. Sarmad has hooked me up with a webcam, mic/headphone combo, the cordless mouse for my laptop, and all five of the SD cards for my Palm. His prices are great. Much cheaper than the PX.

This SGT Smith, again, behind the Sports Bar with our boss, Master Sergeant (MSG) Bobby Anderson.


This next pic is MSG Anderson behind the Sports Bar with Muhammad. Muhammad is Sarmad's cousin. Muhammad runs the maintenance crew for our building. Muhammad and Sarmad both are good friends with all of us that work here.


This is taken right outside the front door of our building. Some genius threw a lit cigarette in one of the trash cans. This is me and one of the KBR employees for MWR, BJ, putting out the fire. Proving that KBR and the military can work together. This is not the best shot of this. We had one with both of us looking at the camera and smiling. But I can't find it.


I've mentioned that we get all the stuff for the Sports Bar from the PX. I took this picture of SGT Smith with a couple of the guys we normally deal with when we shop for the Sports Bar. Joe is on the left, and Diles (sp?) is on the right. It's pronounced "duh-lease".


Some time ago, I mentioned my friend, Greg. The guy that used to work SWAT in East St. Louis. This is SGT Smith with Greg (on the left), and Steve. They both work for DynaCorps.


Do you remember that palace of Saddam's that we hit with 6 missiles in the first couple of hour of the war? It's right across the street from where I work. It's actually on this base. This is a picture of MSG Anderson on top of our building with that palace in the background.


Here's another shot of that palace from the back. You can see the damage. This place is now condemned and off limits to soldiers.


This is the MWR crew with a number of the attendees of that conference we had a few weeks ago. I've given you the names, already, of all the permanent workers at the MWR in picture, except for Jessi Vanya. Everyone in civilian clothes is an Iraqi that attended the conference.


This is Sarmad and the last of the "permanent" staff at the MWR, Private First Class (PFC) Jessi Vanya. Vanya is the person in charge of the rotating crew that oversees our Iraqi workers. This picture was taken in the back of our facility.


Well, that's all of the pictures from here that I have to post at the moment. I will try to get some more soon.

My Dad forwarded me the link. It came from a close friend of the family that is a retired Air Force NCO.

It may seem a bit hokey to some. But, not to me.

Tikrit is in the middle of the "Sunni Triangle". Right up until the time that the 1st Infantry Division took over this base, this was one of the hottest spots in all of Iraq. Saddam was captured not here from here. Uday, and Qusay were killed not far from here.

I knew when I left that a lot of people were praying for me. My parents, their church, my in-laws, their church, the family of the preacher that married my wife and I, and the church that they now lead, the family friend that forwarded this to my dad, his family, their respective churches ... just to name a few.

Tikrit, now, is probably one of the safest places in all of Iraq to be an American serviceman. There were daily mortar and rocket attacks when we first got here. Now, if there is one a week, it has been a HEAVY week. They never have been able to hit anything. Now, it's not unusual to miss the base entirely. If you don't believe me, check the news. When was the last time you saw Tikrit in the news? My guess is shortly after the 4th of July. You know why? AP picked up and ran a story on our 4th of July celebration. Had a pretty nice picture from our fireworks display as well. Been meaning to link to the story here, but I have had problems finding it on a site where I didn't have to pay for it.

Am I saying this is all because of a few prayers, that some mystical thing that God has done has made this base so much safer than a lot of other places? Not necessarily. I think a lot of things have been done in this area to minimize the violence. Ordinary, mundane things. Now, if you ask me if God "guided", if you will, those things to come about as an end result of those prayers, then I have a different answer.

In any case, prayers/thoughts/meditations/whatever can't hurt, and they are appreciated.

My girlfriend's so intense... She woke me up the other night and asked, "If you could tell exactly when and how you were going to die, would you want to know?" I said, "Heck no, why?" "Doesn't matter, just go back back to sleep..."
-- Steven Wright

(Another email gem from my Dad)

A sexy woman went up to the bar in a quiet rural pub...She gestured
alluringly to the bartender who approached her immediately. She seductively
signaled that he should bring his face closer to hers. As he did, she
gently caressed his full beard. "Are you the manager?" she asked, softly
stroking his face with both hands.

"Actually, no," he replied.

"Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him," she said, running her
hands beyond his beard and into his hair.

"I'm afraid I can't," breathed the bartender. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes. I need for you to give him a message," she continued, running her
forefinger across the bartender's lips and slyly popping a couple of her
fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.

"What should I tell him?" the bartender managed to say.

"Tell him," she whispered, "there's no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper
towels in the ladies room."

(Another gem from my Dad)

Walking into the bar, Henry said to the bartender, "Pour me a stiff one, Eddie. I just had another fight with the little woman."

"Oh yeah," said Eddie. "And how did this one end?"

"When it was over," Henry replied, "she came to me on her hands and knees."

"Really? Now that's a switch! What did she say?"

"She said, 'Come out from under that bed you little chickenshit!"

Dear Lord,
I pray for Wisdom, to understand a man.. Love, to forgive him, and Patience, for his moods.

Because, Lord, if I prayed for Strength, I'd just beat him to death...!!

I knew I said the Steven Wright thing was going to be everyday that I posted. Frankly, after a 20 hour workday on Friday, I simply forgot. Tonight is the first time I have been back on. So, to make up for it, here are three gems from Steven Wright(Friday, Saturday, and Sunday).

He asked me if I knew what time it was. I said, "Yes, but not right now."
-- Steven Wright

Four years ago... No, it was yesterday.
-- Steven Wright

Is it weird in here, or is it just me?
-- Steven Wright

It's amazing how many people in America are convinced that things are completely going to crap here in Iraq. Especially given all they know is what the news outlets choose to cover.

There are so many things going on over here ... Or even better yet, in terms of stability in many areas, there things that are NOT going on that the news never covers.

There is an old adage in the news that "If it bleeds, it leads." And that certainly seems to be the case here.

You never hear about kids that were never able to go to school because their parents weren't Baath party members are now in school. You don't hear how the 4th of the 3rd Air Defense Artillery Battalion provided school supplies for hundreds of those kids in the Tikrit area.

You do hear about people that have lost minimal public services (water, electricity), but they don't tell you the whole story. How they never had them before, the Army or it's contractors ran the lines, and set it up for them. The reason they are without services now is that insurgents came along behind the Army and blew the stuff up. Depriving their own countrymen, sometimes their own neighbors, of service. You don't hear about units like my cousin's that kept repairing water and electrical lines after insurgents blew the stuff up.

You don't hear about how thousands of Iraqis that weren't able to get decent jobs, because they were Baath party members, now have them.

AND YOU CERTAINLY DON'T HEAR ABOUT the approximately 5 cents a gallon that Iraqis pay for a liter of gas. ... or about 20 cents a gallon. Do you even remember the last time gas was that cheap in America? I barely do. If this is a war about America getting cheap oil, something is terribly wrong, because it obviously hasn't worked.

The wannabe First Lady has a rather interesting way of expressing herself.

At first she sounds like Marie Antoinette, in the "Let them eat cake." vein. Then, she covers herself by saying she just meant that disaster relief should be prioritized.

Or maybe she is just promoting a "naturalist" lifestyle.

Sometimes its hard to tell with her.

This is the same woman that about a week ago said that anyone that wasn't for her husband's health care plan was an "idiot."

You know, all things considered, I'm not too sure who she really is campaigning for. She may be one of the best things to happen to the Bush campaign.

Here is a Rabbi's interesting take on the similarities to the Anti-Americanism as expressed by many nations of the world, and anti-Semitism.

He, also, has some very interesting things to say about Canada, and why our two coountries have never quite seen eye to eye.

You may not agree, but it is very interesting food for thought.

Yay, Linus!

The little guy scores another one.

I feel real safe flying.

This guy got on a plane in Afghanistan. Changed planes in the United Arab Emirates. Landed at JFK. And they only found this stuff as he was boarding his flight at JFK to go home to California.

---

 Hey! And this is coming from allies that normally are very supportive of the UN. 

Wow! 

It's good to see that someone else has figured out that the war in Iraq WAS authorized 

by previous UN resolutions. Like the ones that ended the first Gulf War.

---

Iraq war allies rebuff UN chief

Key allies in the US-led war in Iraq reject UN chief Kofi Annan's assertion that the invasion was illegal.

---

 Of course it's pitiful. Who wants to rebuild anything when some 

"freedom fighter" comes along behind the construction crew and 

blows it up?   

---

Iraq rebuilding efforts 'pitiful' US lawmakers criticise progress on the rebuilding of Iraq - saying only $1bn out of a $18bn fund has been spent.

---

More XP security concerns. 

I thought XP Service Pack 2 was supposed to the best there is?

---

Image flaw threatens Windows

Millions of computer users are at risk of attack because of flaws in the way Windows handles some images.

(Another email that I thought I'd share)
Now that food has replaced sex in my life, I can't even get into my own pants.

Marriage changes passion.
Suddenly you're in bed with a relative.

I saw a woman wearing a sweat shirt with "Guess" on it.
So I said "Implants?" She hit me.

How come we choose from just two people to run for
president and 50 for Miss America?

A good friend will come and bail you out of jail...but, a true friend will be sitting next to you saying, "Darn...that was fun!"

I signed up for an exercise class and was told to wear loose-fitting clothing. If I HAD any loose-fitting clothing, I wouldn't have signed up in the first place!

When I was young we used to go "skinny dipping," now I just "chunky dunk."

Don't argue with an idiot; people watching may not be able
to tell the difference.

Wouldn't it be nice if whenever we messed up our life we could simply press 'Ctrl Alt Delete' and start all over? AMEN, AMEN !!

Why is it that our children can't read a Bible in school, but they can in prison?

Wouldn't you know it...
Brain cells come and brain cells go, but FAT cells live forever.

Why do I have to swear on the Bible in court when the Ten Commandments cannot be displayed in a federal building?

Bumper sticker of the year:
"If you can read this, thank a teacher-and, since it's in English, thank a soldier !!"



I don't know about you, but I sure got a chuckle out of these,
and I'll bet your friends will too!! Pass it along!!

(Another email I received)


The following scouting report is making the rounds of Division I
football coaches:
Wayfron P. Jackson: 6' 6", 215 lbs. Wide Receiver. Hottest prospect from Texas in the last ten years. Loves rap music. Will demand a mini cassette in his helmet. Currently holds world record for the most "you knows" during an interview (62 in one minute). Wayfron can print his complete name.
********************************************
Cletis Quinticious Jenkins: 6' 3", 220 lbs.. Running Back. Set state scoring record out of Triton High School, Dunn, N.C. Also led the state in burglaries, but has only 9 convictions. He has been clocked at 4.2 seconds in the 40 yard dash with a 19" TV under each arm.
*****************************************
Roosevelt "Dude" Dansell: 6' 1", 195 lbs. Running Back. From Tyler, Texas. Has processed hair and imitates Billy Dee Williams very well. Before he signed his letter of intent, he wanted the school to change colors to chartreuse and pink. Listed his church preference as "red brick."
**********************************************
Woodrow Lee Washington: 6' 8", 310 lbs. Tackle. From a 4th generation welfare family. At 19 he's the oldest of 21 children. Mother claims Woodrow and child number 9 have same father. He has a manslaughter trial pending but feels he will be found innocent because: "The dude said something bad 'bout my Momma." On his entrance form, he listed his I.Q. as 20-20.
**********************************************
Willie "Night Train" Smith: 6'4", 225 lbs. Quarterback. Born on an Amtrak train. Birth certificate indicates he is 27 years old. Thinks the "N" on Nebraska's helmets stands for "Nowledge," but still meets this school's stringent entrance requirements. Insists on wearing number 32 jersey since it matches his score on his College Entrance Exam.
*********************************************
Tyrone "Python" Peoples: 6'10", 228 lbs. Wide Receiver. Has a pending paternity suit and two rape trials, but hopes none of his other 9 victims will file charges. Tyrone had already signed letters of intent with six other colleges but was also willing to sign with us. Likes wild women and red Cadillacs. Thinks Taco Bell is the Mexican Telephone Company.
**********************************************
Abdul Hasheen Abba Ali: 6'10", 305 lbs. Guard. Played high school ball under the name Sylvester LeRoy Jones until he discovered religion.. Abdul thinks Sherlock Holmes is a housing project in Jacksonville. Doesn't know the meaning of the word "fear." (Doesn't know the meaning of many other words, either.)
**********************************************
Note: College track coaches intend to use several of the above signees in their track programs. However, instead of using a starting gun at track meets, the NCAA has now agreed to use a burglar alarm....this, they hope, will keep the runners alert.

(My parents sent me this in email)

Letters To God
--------------

A nun asked her class to write notes to God. Here are some they handed in:

Dear God:
I didn't think orange went with purple until I saw the sunset You
made on Tuesday. That was cool.
----------
Dear God:
Instead of letting people die and having to make new ones, why don't
You keep the ones You already have?
----------
Dear God:
Maybe Cain and Abel would not have killed each other if they had
their own rooms. That's what my Mom did for me and my brother.
----------
Dear God:
If You watch me in church on Sunday, I'll show You my new shoes.
----------
Dear God:
I bet it is very hard to love everyone in the whole world. There are only 4 people in our family and I'm having a hard time loving all of them.
----------
Dear God:
In school they told us what you do. Who does it when you are on vacation?
----------

Dear God:
Are You really invisible or is it just a trick?
----------
Dear God:
Is it true my father won't get into heaven if he uses his bowling
words in the house?
----------
Dear God:
Did You mean for the giraffe to look like that or was it an accident?
----------
Dear God:
Who draws the lines around the countries?
----------
Dear God:
I went to this wedding and they kissed right in the church Is that OK?
----------
Dear God:
Did You really mean "Do unto others as they do unto you"? Because if
You did, then I'm going to get my brother good.
----------
Dear God:
Thank You for the baby brother, but I think you got confused because
what I prayed for was a puppy.
---------
Dear God:
Please send me a pony. I never asked for anything before You can look it up.
----------
Dear God:
I want to be just like my Daddy when I get big, but not with so much hair all over.
----------
Dear God:
You don't have to worry about me; I always look both ways.
----------
Dear God:
I think about You sometimes, even when I'm not praying.
----------
Dear God:
Of all the people who worked for You, I like Noah and David the best.
----------
Dear God:
My brother told me about being born but it doesn't sound right.
They're just kidding, aren't they?
----------
Dear God:
I would like to live 900 years just like the guy in the Bible.
---------
Dear God:
We read Thomas Edison made light. But in Sunday school they said You did it. So, I bet he stole Your idea.

I guess the logic is: Throw enough money at the problem and things will ... stay the same.

More proof that the Federal government should stay out of local school districts.

I know this is going to shock and amaze you.

Nothing like this has EVER happened before.

The House of Representatives has voted 235-170 to give itself a pay raise as part of a Transportation and Treasury Department spending bill.

And get this ... this is even more unheard of they rejected a member's procedural attempt to vote on the pay raise separate from the rest of the bill.

It's good to know that we won't have members of Congress on food stamps.

I just don't know how they can get by on a measley $158,100 a year.

They are playing fast and loose with economic numbers, too.

I have to admit, though, scare tactics work.

It's amazing, you know. I read an interesting a piece a few years ago how opposition candidates pretty much have to convince you that things are bad, economically, for them to win. No matter what the obivous truth.

It's time to ask yourself the question that killed Dukakis "Are you better off than you were 4 years ago?"

I would suggest voting on what you find the answer is, not what somebody tells you the answer is.

Man, oh man.

Kerry wants to eliminate health savings accounts.

Let's start with the question of: When did saving for a rainy day become a bad thing?

And when did it become the government's business if you did?

The questions that immediately come to mind only get uglier.

Once again, this guy is getting frightening.

I didn't know it then, but looking back, in hindsight, I realize that when I was younger I could see into the future. Now I'm getting all my premonitions as flashbacks!
-- Steven Wright

Hey,

I wasn't really thrilled with the templates that Blooger provided. So, I went looking at a few places, and thought I would give something else a try.

I thought the last template that I was using for the blog was really cool. Then, I loaded it in Mozilla. It was almost unreadable. So, I am giving this one a try. Tell me what you think. I like the colors, and the idea the original author had for the left column. Okay, the Reading and Listening thing was originally in a third column on the right, but I couldn't get all the stuff in the left column to work right with three columns. I decided to scale it back to two.

Anyway, if you have any problems reading it now, drop me a line.

Thanks, as always, for dropping by.

Hey folks!

I've decided to add a new thing here. I love the comedy of Steven Wright. A few years back, I found a website that had a lot of his stuff on it, and saved it.

So, everyday I post I am going to add "Wright-ism of the Day".

Here's the first one:

Right now I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time. I think I've forgotten this before.
-- Steven Wright

Read the latest from the European Union.

Add a little Anti-Semitism to this, and it could have come from Joseph Goebbels. (Nazi Propaganda minister during WWII)

It's a bit frightening.

Thought the title might catch your attention.

As I sit down to write tonight, I have two totally unrelated topics on my mind. Guess what they are.

Let's go in order.

I've either linked to, or written some things that might lead you to believe that I either believe that all Muslims are terrorists or that I have some other prejudice against them. Actually, I believe quite the opposite. In particular, I believe the opposite of the many Iraqis that I have come into contact with since I got here. They are great people. I count many of them as friends. I just wanted to dispel any misconceptions that you might have had.

Okay.

The "salchicha" post from last night was written, originally, in 1997. Thought I might give you an update, and I felt like posting some pictures.

Where to start?

My "boys"
are Tasselhof Burrfoot, and Radar O'Reilly. Tas is on the right, and Radar is on the left in the above picture. They are from the same litter. Their sire was a Panamanian Kennel Club show champ, and their mother was registered with the AKC. I say "was". That's an assumption. If they are still alive, they are about 15 years old. We lost touch with the breeder when we left Panama. Tas was the biggest pup in the litter. (He had to be pulled from the mother, he was to big for her to birth him by herself.) Radar was the runt.

The entire litter was sold and left the breeder's house when they were 8 weeks old. Originally, we only had Tas. The people that bought Radar from the breeder sold us to him about a month later. They coudn't keep him, and knew from talking to us that we really wanted two pups from that litter. Radar has been the "top dog" in our house since about three weeks after we brought him home.

The boys are almost 9 years old now. Radar, in particular, is beginning to gray.

About a year ago, one of the discs in Tas' back exploded, basically. He is partially paralyzed from just in front of his hips.

You can see his cart in this picture, pretty well. With or without the cart, Tas can still beat his brother in a race to the front door from any part of the house.

They are keen watch dogs. They are very territorial, and warn us about anything invading "their space".

They are quite a team. They have perfected mouse catching as a team event, "treed" the postman, and multiple squirrels. It's amazing what they can do when they work together as a team.


Tas is the "happy-go-lucky" playful one.

Radar is a "flirt". He loves people, and will do, or put up with a lot to please people.

They still act like a pups most of the time, but you can tell time is taking it's effect. They are starting to have "old man" moments.



Well, I am sure that is enough.
It's getting late, here, and I am beginning to get a bit drowsy, myself.

A Kuwaiti weighs in on condemning the Muslim mainstreams reaction, or lack of one to bin Laden. Especially in light of the way that they reacted to Salman Rushdie in the 1980's.

Another interesting look into Muslim thought.

Wow!

An interesting document.

Well worth the read.

So!

An expert in Arab culture thinks that having a broader international base for our war on terror is not necessarily a viable, or even a good thing.

Hooo-Raaah!

Gotta read this story.

I get a daily RSS feed of Dilbert, Get Fuzzy, and Peanuts.

A few years back, Amy and I were heavily involved in a production of the musical "Snoopy". She played Lucy, and I played Linus. The spoken lines were all taken directly from actual cartoon strips.

The following was one of my favorite scenes to play.

The following few posts are some things I wrote some time ago.

It was right after I was transferred to Panama. I spent the first 9 months that I was stationed there by myself. My wife was back in the States while we waited for on post housing to open up for us.

Thought I would share them with you.

The spanish word “salchicha� translates several different ways. It can mean: 1)sausage, in its many forms, to include hotdogs; 2) the breed of canine known as dachshund. I own two. Of the canine variety.

The two I currently own are numbers 6 & 7, for me. My first was a birthday gift, on my fifth birthday. I will be 32, in a few months. My boys, the current ones, will be 18 months old in a few days. I feel the need to explain my “obsession� with the breed.

First, let me explain. I am a “dog-person�. I love dogs. My family has owned the following breeds: Beagles, Bassett Hounds (the Hush Puppie dog), English Setters, Labrador Retreivers, Old English Sheepdogs, and multiple mutts. Not to mention my prolonged exposure to dogs that friends of mine have owned that did not fit into the aforementioned breeds. While they have not always been “my� dog, I have loved them all. There have been a few treatises that have asserted viable cases for the domestication of the canine species as being as important to the development of the human race as homo sapiens having an opposable thumb ... given my experience with dogs, I believe them.

So, okay, I am biased. Biased towards dogs. That does not explain my bias towards a specific breed of dog.

Dachshunds are special dogs. Unlike any other breed I have ever encountered. A dog that is entirely comfortable in a setting with no other dogs present, in any lifestyle, ... yet has the strongest primeval pack instincts I have EVER seen in a dog breed. They are more finely attuned to the “alpha� or pack leader (or what they perceive as their pack leader) than any other breed I have ever seen. What does that mean? It does not matter who you are, if “your� (their choice, not yours) dachshund makes the “terrible� deal with you that I talked about in “My Boy� (the dog in question was a dachshund).


They are not conscious of their lack of physical size. My last one whipped a German shepherd ... and if I had allowed it, would have tried to do the same to a rather pissed Pit Bull! My current one has.... Okay, let me be the proud “father� for a moment ... has kept a 5'11" woman (my guess is 150+ pounds) from going upstairs in my house, AND has pinned an employee of my landlord’s(a male, at least 6', and over 180 pounds) against my front door, just by growling (rather intently) and raising the hair on his hackles. THE DOG IN QUESTION WEIGHS LESS THAN 13 POUNDS! And measures less than 4 inches at the shoulder! So, to quote an often used phrase, dachshunds are a BIG dog in a small package. They are afraid of nothing, especially if their pack leader backs them up.

I know, I know. It seems over the last few years that baseball has been the most greedy, seemingly, of all sports, with the strikes, and the labor disagreements.

But I love baseball. I didn’t when I was younger, but I do now. There are lots of things to point to that make it a grand thing: the history, the tradition, it’s great heroes ... its great legends (The Babe, Ty Cobb, Cy Young, Shoeless Joe Jackson, and the BlackSox). But those are not enough to justify it. Football has a lot of the same things, as well as basketball, and they are, justifiably, just as much American creations. They do not justify loving the game over any other game.

However ...

There is a reason to love the game that goes beyond these things.

Bob Costas almost got it right when he talked about the fact that, even though it is easy to forget it, baseball is a beautiful thing.

Almost, Bob.

Indulge me a moment.

I heard of a sociology professor who, once, asked his students, “How long have you lived?� He, then, qualified it by saying that he did not mean how long you had been alive, but how long have you actually lived ... and then he shared an anecdote about himself and a trip to the top of the Empire State Building.

That is what baseball is about ... living.

You go to the park ... get your refreshments, sit in “your� seats. The green field spreads out in front of you. Get comfortable... greet those around you. You sing the national anthem (badly) with everyone else in the park, and you hear the last two words of the national anthem shouted out by the umpire .... “PLAY BALL!!!�

Then the game begins.

And what is game about? Is it about runs? Balls or strikes? Labor disagreements?

No.

It is about moments that you “live� ... moments to savor.

The pitcher has finished warming up, he’s ready. So, is the batter. The batter is in the box. The pitcher starts his delivery. At this point, anything could happen. The batter could hit it out of the park, he could swing and miss, he could not swing and because the pitch is outside of the strike zone, he could get hit by the ball, the batter could ... anything could happen!

What is baseball about?

It’s about history, and stats, its about tradition, its about community, it’s about hot dogs and peanuts, it’s about moments of blinding speed, and moments of motionless stare down between pitcher and batter ... it’s about taking the most life has to offer in each and every moment no matter how little action it offers to the eye, and savoring each scent, sound, smell, and sight.

Baseball, when it gets down to it, is about living. Truly living each moment of life. Americans, traditionally, have understood that. In the 1860's, it was a game of “blinding speed� the pace of life of those times. Now, it is a game of leisure. The long season that other sports try to emulate. It is about living each moment, over the long haul, as if it is truly worth living to the full.

Baseball is about taking the emotion of the moment and fully embracing it, ... savoring it. Life is too short not to do so.

I admit it. I didn't understand. I've watched movies like "If You Could See What I Hear", and heard/read untold stories of "handicapped" people all my life. I thought the stories I heard were "noble", "inspiring", etc.

I didn't realize what they really were.

Let me explain. I was diagnosed with arthritis when I was 3. I am almost 31. I have lived with pain in my knees for most of my life. Used to it. No big deal. It never really slowed me down.

Until a couple of months ago.

Now, thanks to the current state of my knees, I dread having to go up stairs, no matter how few. I avoid it if possible. (I live in a three-story house. My bathroom is on the third floor, my carport is the first floor.)

Today was a "good knee day". At one point, I thought my right knee was going to collapse under me ... but there was no pain.

I am all but 31, and when I have a "bad knee day" I move slower, and more feebly than my grandfather. He is 81, suffers from what will be terminal emphysema, and has had a stroke!

This is unacceptable. I will not tolerate this. I will not tolerate my superiors at work "rethinking" their personal involvement in marathons because of my knees, and me limping! (Because they could be like this)

I realize that I have been brought to this point by my choice of profession. I am in the Army, I have to run. I didn't expect this so soon.

But on the other hand, I will not ... I am almost 31 ... I have roughly 50 more years to live. I will walk for all of those years! This career is not worth the ability to walk, or stand. I will quit and do something, anything else before I cripple myself doing this.

I have pups (I own two pups). I want kids. I will need to be able to play with them all. I refuse to do that on crutches, or with a cane, or from a wheelchair.


And pity ... I guess that is what really kills me. I, finally, get to the floor of the building (the building with no elevator) I work on, and limp into work ... and get looks of pity from people that I wouldn't waste the effort of spitting on! It pisses me off! I leave work to go to Physical Therapy for my knees and get sympathy from these same schmucks ... it pisses me off!

And that is what motivated all of those "inspirational" stories. They were pissed off! They knew they could do more.

When I was young, like most little kids I had an imaginary friend. Being an only child, at the point where children develop a need for a sibling, I did the natural thing. I invented Squeaky.
Squeaky was a little boy exactly like me. Same hair, same eyes, same taste in Hot Wheels cars, etc... except of course, Squeaky was invisible. Squeaky ate with my mother and I, he and I went to pre-school together, played together, slept in the same bunk beds.....Squeaky preferred the top bunk, so, being, even then, a nice guy, I let him have it. But the main thing Squeaky and I did together was talk... actually, I did most of the talking, even then, Squeak was a good listener.
Then came the day... Squeaky could no longer stay with us... his job was done, or so we thought. Mom, not noticing that the invisible boy in her house was gone, asked me one day where Squeaky was. So, I told her. Squeak had joined the Army, and had to go. I still find it rather amazing that any Army recruiter (even in the late 60's) would take an invisible 4 year old boy! So, Squeaky was gone never to be seen again (not that he had been seen before, he was invisible, you know).
At least that is what I thought at the time.
So, time moved on, and I grew up. I graduated from high school, went to college, got married, graduated from college, and ... joined the Army. I joined at age 24, to be an Army Bandsmen. By then, I had pretty much forgot about Squeak. I did basic Training, went to my tech school (the one where they teach you your job in the military), and then to my first duty station, in Texas. Never thought about, heard of, or heard from Squeak. After all, he had, by this time been in 20 years, if he was still in, or still alive. One assumes being invisible would come in very handy in a number of the more dangerous jobs in the military.
After five years in Texas, the Army sends me to Panama. My wife does not immediately follow me, and I get stuck in the barracks, alone.
Guess what I found out!!! Squeaky was still in Army! He was an Army Bandsman ... and he not only was in my band, but we shared a barracks room. Of course, I did not realize this at first. Having a roommate who is extremely quiet to begin with, and invisible, means its rather hard to notice him. But, it was a small room, and one day we ran into each other!
I was amazed! After all these years, we still looked exactly the same! (I know, I talked to him many times while looking at him in the mirror, while shaving!) And if that was not enough, we were the same rank, as well!! We had many great conversations, once again. He was a great help in me keeping my sanity in a screwed up unit, while separated from my family. Matter of a fact, some of the best stuff in this book was stolen from him, and our talks.

But, all good things must come to an end. I received on post housing ...Squeak stayed with me for a while, but it came time for my wife to come down from Texas ... and Squeak was transferred.
I don't know where the Army sent him, but, he said when I need him again, he will be there. And he disappeared. Well, sort of ... I mean how can a guy who is already invisible, disappear?

What is the measure of a relationship? How can you tell how strong, how deep a relationship is? Not just the one with your spouse, but with your friends, co-workers, boss, etc.
Most people will tell you it is measured by how well you get along. They will tell you the longer you go without a disagreement is the way to measure how strong, deep, or good a relationship is. That disagreement, arguing is a sign of a weak, or failing relationship. A sign that the relationship is on the rocks .... if not too far gone to save.
Personally, I believe that view is a load of organic fertilizer. If anything, the opposite is true. The less you disagree is probably a sign of the relationship's weakness. Disagreement is the way to measure a relationship. For instance, I dated a girl in high school. I thought I was in love with her. We gave in to each other, and compromised on a regular basis. It, on the surface, was almost a text book picture of how to honor the other above yourself. Underneath it all I think we both knew (I knew after a while) that our first argument would be our last. If we ever argued, that would end the relationship, because the relationship was not a strong, deep relationship. It was based on my infatuation with her..... and her need to climb socially (I was a senior with a car, job(read: money), and a flashy letter jacket for her to wear). It was the most stress free dating relationship I ever had......right up until the end, which was our first and last disagreement. On the other hand, to call up another example from my high school dating career, my most stressful dating relationship was my best and strongest, the one that came closest to actual love. Our relationship started my junior year. She was a sophomore. We went out (that time) for about 5 months. My parents didn't like her. It was a time of year I was up to my ears in school activities, and my job was working me harder and longer than it did at any time in high school. It didn't help that my parents, about that time, bought 3 pieces of rental property that needed heavy renovation and they decided to do it themselves. I, being the oldest child, and having a job that put me near the properties at night when my folks were working on them, was "volunteered" to help. So, I have this girlfriend that I care about, a lot. My parents don't like her. I have a school schedule that keeps me occupied from 7:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.. I have a job that keeps me from 4:00 p.m. to 9:00-9:30 p.m. My parents have stuff I have to so from 9:00 p.m. to about midnight. This girl cares, at least, as much for me as I do for her.... My parents, with a slight manipulation, have fixed it so I can only see her between classes in school. (This was about 2 ½ months into our relationship) Because she misses me, and I her, the arguing starts. The strain of separation begins to wear on us, and the fact we can see each other for a few brief moments each day, only makes it worse. This went on for 2 ½ months. We had occasional breaks where we could go out, or, at least, spend the evening on the phone.

But, the arguing was okay. Why? We cared for each other enough that we didn't have to agree. It wasn't just the hormonal.... even though, she was, to my taste, very attractive (and as of the last time I saw her a few years ago, still is). It was more than that. We shared what hurt us. We knew what made the other tick.... and even though, we didn't always agree. We didn't have to. It wasn't a condition we placed on each other. If anything, we both reveled in our differences, and did things to understand the other better..... even after we broke up the first time. (We picked up the relationship 2 more times before..... well that is another story, for another time)
I am most fortunate, in that, I now have a wonderful mate. Our relationship has a similar basis. We were married when I was 19. She was 18. I will be thirty in just a few months. We've had some REAL disagreements in the last 10 years. But, that is okay. The survival of our relationship is not dependent on agreement. If it was, our marriage probably would not have survived my 20th birthday. (I went through a phase of true assholery shortly before that birthday.... all aimed at my wife (and she has had times of true bitchiness, but (for all you feminists) I think I have been an asshole more often than she has been bitchy))
It is important to understand that I am not advocating arguing. It is only an indicator of an attitude. The attitude is, basically, one that says I care (or respect) you enough that our differences of opinion are inconsequential. Like I said earlier, this concept can be used as a yardstick for any relationship. I use it to gauge my relationship, and how to deal with coworkers..... peers, subordinates, AND superiors. It is a change of perspective from what you will hear from the world around you, from the "experts" to your buddies. BUT, I have found it to be the most accurate measure of such things. And, unlike so much of what you hear, it actually works.

There has never been more of an oxymoron, than the term "acceptable Army haircut." At least, as far as I am concerned. I've read...no, memorized, the regulation that covers haircuts, And I know what I find acceptable. No such thing exists as an "acceptable Army haircut." So, what do you do? Well, when I'm not with my wife, I go as "gung-ho...hoooraaah" as I can. Why? If I can't have what I want...what fits my image of myself, why try to even get close? Because, as close as possible, is nowhere close to acceptable, in my mind. Why even try? Why not go for the easiest thing to deal with as possible, and still be socially acceptable? So, I do. The areas of my body that used to have feet of hair growing from them when I was a civilian, now....have what amounts to razor stubble.
I guess, the saddest thing is, I can tell my hairline is receding. So, it will work out that when I have the hair to grow it the way I want, I won't be able to, and, when I am able to, I won't have to hair to grow it out the way I want. I have six years in the service.
(Only fourteen more years... Only fourteen more years... Only fourteen more... Only fourteen... Only…

You are on a rigid schedule. Whether you know it or not. You are being timed and graded on your accomplishment of certain tasks. All of this is being closely monitored. Whether or not you accomplish these tasks decides a number of important things in your life: who you associate with, the approval of your friends and family, how you can spend your spare time, how much money you have, and possibly, where you live. The bad part is.......you, probably, have never been informed , as to, just what these tasks are and to when and how you should accomplish them. In fact, you have never really been informed that this rigid schedule of tasks actually exists. And it must be IMPORTANT, because everyone you come into contact with inquires on your progress. It also seems that they HAVE been informed of what these tasks are, AND when you should have accomplished them. .
To illustrate what I mean, I will walk you through an "examination". Our two conversants, we will call the evaluator (E) and the victim (v.) They have just met in the last few minutes. The victim is a man in his mid-to-late 20's.

E: "Are you married?"

Now, if the victim says yes he gets a look of approval. But we will follow that trail later.

V: "No."

(Mild look of concern from the evaluator)

E: "Are you seeing anyone?"

If the victim says no, the look he receives is one of disbelief. If he say.....

V: "Yes."

Then comes the question...

E: "Is it serious?"

If the victim says no, the look of mild concern (which has stayed on the evaluator's face) becomes one of deep concern. If the victim says yes,...

V: "Yes, actually it is."

The look of mild concern becomes a smile, indicating the victim is, indeed, at least, trying to keep with the schedule.


Now, if the victim had said he was married.........it goes like this....

E: "Oh (look of approval), how long?"

If the victim says anything over five years, he gets a look of alarm from the evaluator. If he says anything under two years, he gets a smirk. If he says anything in between,...

E: "Have any kids?"

If he says no, once again, the look of deep concern (this, also, is the same for those married over five years). If he says anything more than two, once again, the look of deep concern. If he says between one and two......

E: "Oh really! How old are they?"

If the oldest is more than 4, he get the look of concern again. If the only child is still on the way, same look of concern. Anything in between...

E: "That's great! Do you have pictures?"

If the victim doesn't have pictures, the look of concern returns. If the victim has pictures, they are "ooohed" and "aaaahed" over for a polite amount of time.


And that is an evaluation.....at least at one stage of life. The scary thing is....it never ends. Up to age eighteen or twenty-two, you know what the landmarks are....go to elementary school, go to junior high, or middle school (depending on what your town has to offer), go to high school, go to college, get a job (the last two, not necessarily in that order). But from then... Society has this rigid timetable you are SUPPOSED to live up to. Nobody tells you what it is. Society doesn't care if you want to live up to it.

IT IS YOUR JOB TO BE EMPLOYED, SUCCESSFULLY, MARRIED, HAVE KIDS, AND GET THEM OUT OF YOUR HOUSE, PREFERABLY, INTO A GOOD SCHOOL, AND YOURSELF RETIRED. All ON A RIGID, TIMED, AND GRADED SCHEDULE. IF YOU DECIDE TO DO ANY OF THIS EARLY , OR LATER, THAN SOCIETY SAYS YOU SHOULD, IT WILL DEAL WITH YOU VERY HARSHLY.

As I write this, it's 2:20 AM, September 11th, here. I don't know if this will make sense, but I want to share some "scenes" that I associate with this date.

Three years ago, this time, I was a soldier in the 77th Army Band, at Fort Sill, OK. I was in charge of what we did in support of the Army's Recruiting Command. Our rock band had a week long tour of northwestern Texas that I was preparing. It was the first tour with this particular line up that I was arranging, and it was going to be a tough one.

I got in my little Nissan truck that morning to go to work at 7:45 AM. My radio was set to the local rock station, as it always was. I didn't care for the DJ's (they did some of the most inane things, and thought they were hilarious), but the music was good. I was thinking about hotels, schools, renting vehicles, etc. Anything but what they were saying. I half heard them say something about a plane crashing into a building, and figured it was another one of their stupid stunts.

I got to work and found out it wasn't a stunt. As soon as morning formation was over, the entire band crowded into the breakroom and was glued to CNN. After watching for a while, I figured out that I had to get to work on that tour. It was more important than ever. I wouldn't have a problem convincing any school to let us in, now. And, in a few short hours I would not be able to get any work done.

It wasn't like I could do anyone any good sitting glued to a TV. As I worked, I listened to the radio. I heard the second plane hit the towers. I heard the plane hit the Pentagon. And, finally, I heard the fourth plane crash in Pennsylvania.

They sent us home, later that day. Said stay near a phone. Don't come on base. We will call you when to come into work next.

My wife and I spent the better part of a week glued to the TV.

One of my first few days back to work, the band had to perform at a basic training graduation. It was my turn to conduct the band. The conductor was allowed to pick out three tunes to play before the ceremony, then you conducted the National Anthem, and the Army song during the ceremony. I had selected the music a few weeks earlier ... but I changed it all. The band sat at the back of the theater. We played a Sousa march for the first piece. I don't remember which one. The band was playing like never before. God Bless America was next. They played even better, and we received the first of our standing ovations that day (we rarely even received applause for pre-music, normally). Stars and Stripes Forever was next, and the applause went on so long that I thought we were going to have to start the ceremony late. Then, we did the anthem.

I've been a musician for 28 years. I have played the national anthem on, at least 4 different instruments, sang it, and conducted it more times than I can count. I have NEVER heard the Anthem played the way it was that day. Every bit of hurt, anger, frustration, pride of country, and of service that those 18 musicians had in them came pouring out of their instruments.

Exactly a year later I was in Korea. I had been tasked, with another NCO, to plan a September 11th Memorial Concert. In the first half of the concert, through music, spoken word, and video, we took the audience through all of the emotion of the previous September 11th. And when it became almost unbearable, we knew we had to turn it into something else. At the end of Taps, and then a moment of silence, the band began to play Ashokan Farewell. After it was going, I stepped to the microphone, and read these words over the music:

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Those words seemed as, if not more, appropriate than when they were first spoken.

So, now it is three years after the fact, and I sit, wearing my country's uniform, in a palace that used to belong to a tyrant, in the middle of a country that for the first time in it's history is struggling to figure out what it means to be free. I can't explain why but, I feel like the following, more than ever is my picture:

(Speaking to self) I will not make a John Kerry joke. I will not make a John Kerry joke. I will not make a John Kerry joke. I will not make a John Kerry joke. I will not make a John Kerry joke.

The best friend I have ever had (besides my wife) says,"Sometimes you have to call a spade a f***ing shovel." That's what Ollie North does in this open letter to John Kerry.

John Kerry's claim to honorable service to his country in Viet Nam is a slap in the face to anyone who has ever worn a US military uniform, and upheld the Code of Conduct. Oliver North does a good job of explaining why.

LTC (ret) North, also, touches on Abu Ghraib, and what happened there. I'd like to go off on that tangent for a bit.

Let me state that what the soldiers did there was wrong. There are no two ways about it. They were wrong. There are several articles of the Uniformed Code of Military Justice that they violated, and they will pay for it. They should pay for it. That is right.

On the other hand, I must say that I don't have a lot of sympathy for the victims of their acts. I think any group that tries to get them freed on the basis of their treatment or anything like that is behaving in an irresponsible manner, and is guilty of the same kind of treachery that Oliver North accuses John Kerry of in his letter.

Let me tell you why.


These guys were not suspected shoplifters, recidivist jaywalkers, chronic speeders, or even drunk drivers. These were the guys that survived the raids on weapons caches, and bomb making labs. These were the guys who survived the firefights that they and their cronies started with US troops. Each one was responsible for at least one of the 1,000 US dead in this war in some way.

If they had to stand in a painful position, go without some sleep, live through the threat of electricity being passed through some sensitive part of their body, or do something that resembled fraternity hazing .... well, then .... GOOD! It's not near as bad as what they were responsible for. For each of those "poor prisoners" there is at least one posthumous Purple Heart, and an American family without a child, sibling, spouse or parent.

Their jailors will be tried and punished, but they do not have my sympathy.

Hey,

It's the end of my "long day". I'm a bit tired, and I think that I am getting a cold.

It was a rough week. The facility that I am assistant manager of played host to a conference with leaders from various Iraqi "Non-Governmental Organizations". We would think of them as "non-profit" organizations. The groups that were represented ran the gamut from Human Rights watch groups, to Iraqi Business Women associations, to organizers of youth sports leagues. About half of the conference attendees stayed in the building I work in.

Setting up for and then making this happen was a BIG headache. Especially given that this building was not set up to house anybody when I arrived at work Sunday, and the conference attendees started arriving Monday night.

I, being the shy soul that I am, made several new friends. I received an email from one. He hosts a blog through ths service as well. It is called: Iraq At A Glance.

He sent me a couple of pictures that he took at the conference.

First, he snuck a picture of me, while I was taking one of him and my boss:


Then, the boss took one of me, Haider, and Specialist Rodriguez (don't know her first name):


It was neat to meet all of these Iraqis. Neat people.

It was the day after all of that mess that I began to come down with a cold.

So, after I get done here, I am going back to my "hooch", going to sleep. Tomorrow, I am going to have an exciting day of changing sheets, washing socks, putting away clean clothes, reading, playing some computer games, and, let's not forget, coughing, hacking, and sneezing.

I have a few more things that I want to post before I call it a night. But this is the last real personal note. I hope you all have a good weekend.

A responsible pet owner prevents his pets from having offspring that they can't take care of.

This guy got what he deserved.

Let's see here, in the stories I have read in the news, the Kerry campaign has:

1) Called the Vice President "divisive" and "un-American" for, basically, speaking his mind and campaigning against them.

2) Accepted a gift of a gun that Senator Kerry sponsored legislation to have banned.

3) Now, basically, advocated the assault of a heckler at a campaign rally, and threaten the press's privileges with the campaign if they took a statement from the heckler.

Man! They have given the 1st and 2nd Amendments to the Constitution a work out this week!

This from a man who is campaigning to get the job where his primary mission is to uphold and enforce the Constitution.

You gotta love it!

If legislation that HE sponsored had passed last year, then John Kerry would have committed an illegal act at a campaign function in the last week!

So, it's okay for John Kerry to have an automatic shotgun with a pistol grip, but not you and I? Is that what I understand?

Does that make you a bit nervous, or is just me?

Okay, let me see if I have this straight. A candidate for office states an opinion that the man heading the opposite ticket is a bad choice for the job. So, the opposition party gets upset calls it "un-American", and wants a retraction if not an apology.

What did they expect? Did they think the Vice President was going to endorse John Kerry for President? How is stating his opinion, thereby exercising his Constitutionally guaranteed right to Free Speach, "un-American"? It sounds very American to me.

Even better yet, they accuse the Vice President of being "divisive" by stating his opinion on why the ticket he is running on is a better choice for office!

The entire electoral process by its very nature is divisive. It can't be inclusive. The American people have to pick one or the other. They can't have both.

Edwards called this a "test for the President". Just how is it a test for the President? Are they implying that they want the President to endorse John Kerry for President now? That is what it would take, you know. If the President refutes what the Vice President said, he would, implicitly, be endorsing Kerry for the job.

Does anyone else see how ludicrous this is?

Even better yet, let's talk about divisive. Kerry's use of the President's middle initial in the last week. Saying that it stood for "wrong". If you look at the use of "Walker" within the Bush family, it becomes immediately apparent that Walker is some type of "family" name that carries some significance. By using the President's middle initial and, by implication, his middle name in such a way, Kerry took his campaign rhetoric into the same territory as a "yo mamma" joke. That wouldn't be divisive, would it?

You give him a script, and get him to stay on it, and he does fine.

You let him improvise, and stuff like this come out.

Which is worse: "fundamental-supplemental" funding or buying body parts for the military?

Early editions of Shakespeare's work put online by the British Library.

Where do you start with this one?

1)The report says that there were more than 3,000 women married without their knowledge. Sounds like the honeymoons were ... uneventful.
Now that does alot for a guys ego.

2)It's not enough to fake orgasm, now women are faking marriage too!

It seems Halliburton has decided that if they don't have free rein to rip off the tax payers, and give the soldiers crappy service, they just won't bid to keep their contract.

I'm sure that a lot of other soldiers will agree with me when I say that this just breaks my heart.

Fact checking is becoming a lost art, even at the National Geographic.

Maybe they should just stick to photos of topless African women.

Some good news for the Bill of Rights in the latest Daily Digest from the Cato Institute.

Also, some interesting things about budget deficits, and Health Savings accounts.

Clinton's proposed health care plan would have given America Canada-ish health care. As the writer points out, Kerry's plan is very similar to the Clinton plan.

I've been under the care of the largest socialized medical program in America for almost 15 years now. Let me tell you, it is not always a good thing.

I was diagnosed with arthritis in my knees when I was 3 years old (circa 1968). My knees started giving me chronic problems in August of 1996 (about 7 years after joining the Army). It took the Army medical system until May of 2002 to acknowledge that I actually had a chronic knee problem.

Don't let this happen to you, vote appropriately.

(Another thing sent me by my father-in-law. I thought I
would post this on the blog. Try to give you something useful,
not just the normal stuff.)

"We're about to enter the peak of the hurricane season.
Any day now, you're going to turn on the TV and see a weather
person pointing to some radar blob out in the Atlantic Ocean
and making two basic meteorological points :

(1) There is no need to panic.

(2) We could all be killed.

Yes, hurricane season is an exciting time to be in Florida.
If you're new to the area, you're probably wondering what
you need to do to prepare! for the possibility that we'll
get hit by "the big one." Based on our experiences, we recommend
that you follow this simple three-step hurricane preparedness
plan:

STEP 1: Buy enough food and bottled water to last your family
for at least three days.

STEP 2: Put these supplies into your car.

STEP 3: Drive to Arizona and remain there until Halloween.

Unfortunately, statistics show that most people will not
follow this sensible plan. Most people will foolishly stay
here in Florida.

We'll start with one of the most important hurricane preparedness
items:

HOMEOWNERS' INSURANCE:

If you own a home, you must have hurricane insurance. Fortunately
this insurance is cheap and easy to get, as long as your
home meets two basic requirements:

(1) It is reasonably well-built, and

(2) It is located in Arizona .

Unfortunately, if your home is located in Florida, or any
other area that might actually be hit by a hurricane, most
insurance companies would prefer not to sell you hurricane
insurance, because then they might be required to pay YOU
money, and that is certainly not why they got into the insurance
business in the first place. So you'll have to scrounge
around for an insurance company, which will charge you an
annual premium roughly equal to the replacement value of
your house. At any moment, this company can drop you like
used dental floss. Since Hurricane George, I have had an
estimated 27 different home-insurance companies. This week,
I'm covered by the Bob and Big Stan Insurance Company, under
a policy that states that, in addition to my premium, Bob
and Big Stan are entitled, on demand, to my kidneys.

SHUTTERS:

Your house should have hurricane shutters on all the windows,
all the doors, and-if it's a major hurricane-all the toilets.
There are several types o! f shutters, with advantages and
disadvantages:

Plywood shutters: The advantage is that, because you make
them yourself, they're cheap. The disadvantage is that,
because you make them yourself, they will fall off.

Sheet-metal shutters: The advantage is that these work well,
once you get them all up. The disadvantage is that once
you get them all up, your hands will be useless bleeding
stumps, and it will be December.

Roll-down shutters: The advantages are that they're very
easy to use, and will definitely protect your house. The
disadvantage is that you will have to sell your house to
pay for them.

Hurricane-proof windows: These are the newest wrinkle in
hurricane protection: They look like ordinary windows, but
they can withstand hurricane winds! You can be sure of this,
because the salesman says so. He lives in Arizona .

Hurricane Proofing your property: As the hurricane approaches,
check your yard for movable objects like barbecue grills,
planters, patio furniture, visiting relatives, etc...You
should, as a precaution, throw these items into your swimming
pool(if you don't have a swimming pool, you should have
one built immediately). Otherwise, the hurricane winds will
turn these objects into deadly missiles.

EVACUATION ROUTE:

If you live in a low-lying area, you should have an evacuation
route planned out. (To determine whether you live in a low-lying
area, look at your driver's license; if it says "Florida,"
you live in a low-lying area.) The purpose of having an
evacuation route is to avoid being trapped in your home
when a major storm hits. Instead, you will be trapped in
a gigantic traffic jam several miles from your home, along
with two hundred thousand other evacuees. So, as a bonus,
you will not be lonely.

HURRICANE SUPPLIES:

If you don't evacuate, you will need a mess of supplies.
Do not buy them now! Florida tradition requires that you
wait until the last possible minute, then go to the supermarket
and get into vicious fights with strangers over who gets
the last can of SPAM. In addition to food and water, you
will need the following supplies:

23 flashlights.

At least $167 worth of batteries that turn out, when the
power goes off, to be the wrong size for the flashlights.


Bleach. (No, I don't know what the bleach is for. NOBODY
knows what the bleach is for, but it's traditional, so GET
some!)

55 gallon drum of underarm deodorant.

A big knife that you can strap to your leg.(This will be
useless in a hurricane, but it looks cool.)

A large quantity of raw chicken to placate the alligators.
(Ask anybody who went through Andrew; after the hurricane,
there WILL be irate alligators.)

$35,000 in cash or diamonds so that, after the hurricane
passes, you can buy a generator from a man with no! discernible
teeth.

Of course these are just basic precautions. As the hurricane
draws near, it is vitally important that you keep abreast
of the situation by turning on your television and watching
TV reporters in rain slickers stand right next to the ocean
and tell you over and over how vitally important it is for
everybody to stay away from the ocean.

Good luck, and remember: Its great living in Paradise.

Hey,

Like I said earlier, it's been kind of a strange week. Things should get back to normal tomorrow.

I'm going to write a few things up about the last few days, and hopefully, I will have some pictures, as well.

I would like some input, as well. I am looking at some different layouts for the blog, hit counters, and maybe putting a tagboard on here as well. What do you think?

If things are back to normal tomorrow, I will probably write some more stuff about me, and my outlook. Explain some of the range of stuff you see here.

This is ... nuts.

France and Russia being conciliatory. The far left endorsing al Sadr?

Next thing you know: cats and dogs living together, Clinton being monogamous, and other signs of the Apocalypse.

Good Lord! He said this in public!

It looks like the Kerry campaign is snapping out of the sinkhole that the Swift Vets episode had sunk it in.

Getting advice from one of the two living men that have defeated incumbent Republican Presidents was probably not a bad idea.

I wondered if Clinton included "Keep it in your pants." as part of the advice.

HHHMMmm ....

It seems I mentioned something about KBR being overpriced.

Something has gone seriously wrong in the government's procedure here. It seems someone has acquired a firm grasp of the fairly obvious, and done something about it.

This can't last.

I had to share this one.

Not because of any real scientific interest. I did find it interesting, but, the part about the ship in question having "hooters."

I guess it's a British thing.

This is frightening.

It's like Bill Engvall's "Here's Your Sign" crossed with Orwell's "1984".

So, basically, OPEC is ripping off the world.

And just who is surprised by this?

Aaron Swartz is entitled to his opinion. I think this is a well written and well thought out article that makes numerous valid points.

I would disagree with what he says about Michael Moore loving the troops. I have seen the parts of the movie that relates to the troops, and speaking as a soldier serving in Iraq, who saw the movie in Iraq, I would say I felt many things during that part of the film, and "loved" is not a word that comes to mind. "Demeaned", "stereotyped", "insulted" ... those are a few words that come to mind.

Anyone else not feel good about this?

I get visions of goose stepping, and hear Wagner in the background.

Is it any wonder that some people think that Bill Gates is evil incarnate?

This is an EXCELLENT article.

It COMPLETELY agrees both with what I have seen in my study of the history of this region, as well as my, now, 7 months of experience on the ground in this conflict.

If you REALLY want to know what is going on in Iraq, with Iraqis and their government, and the changes their culture is going through, YOU NEED TO READ THIS.

Now, I am not totally opposed to "wife beating".(that was a setup for a joke) BUT ... there is a big difference between intensifying "the moment", if that is what trips HER trigger,(that was the punch line) and doing the same thing for emphasis in conversation.

This guy, once again, proves that fundamentalist Muslims are not on the same page with the rest of the world. These people aren't even in the same book.

Good stuff on computer security, and XP Service Pack 2's lack of it.

He wasn't one of the Navaho, and he didn't serve in the Pacific. But, he was one of famous "Code Talkers."

Huh! What do you know?

Despite what you have heard on the news recently, and what the Democrats would have you believe, it appears that the entire Arab world does not hate us.

Okay, I have a general distaste for, and distrust of politicians.

I believe that a lot of the problems with politics and government in America would disappear if we got rid of two things: a) Democrats, and b) Republicans. Or at least, the parties.

But I like this guy.

Sounds pretty accurate.

I've never considered myself a Republican. I spent some time as a Democrat. Now, more Libertarian than anything else.

Don't care for either candidate.

But don't see how Kerry could be as good as what we already have.

A friend of mine, a contractor with a security firm that works here in Iraq, told me yesterday that the video contains a good face shot of the guy who performed the beheading.

This friend of mine is a white man that is a member of the SWAT unit in East Saint Louis, when he is not doing this. So, coming here is not much of a change.

He mentioned the face shot with a rather evil grin on his face.

We'll see what happens to these guys.

My bet is that they are about to find out if Allah has 70 virgins waiting for them or not.

As France is given a clue. Radical Muslims are not about what war you do or do not support. They are about control.

Look at what the Taliban did in Afghanistan. That is their goal for the world.

The sooner people get that through their heads the better.

Good example of why Aaron Swartz said what he said about Big Media.

This article really got to me. I'm not sure which troops the anti-war elements are protesting in support of, but I am not one of them.

Especially after hearing about the way that coffins were treated that were supposed to represent fallen soldiers, I want no part of this.

More interesting commentary from Aaron Swartz.

What do you call this?

Creative listening?

An interesting theory on how big money REALLY influences politics.

Got this quote in email from my father-in-law. Found it to be very insightful.

"The true goal we seek is far above and beyond the ugly field of battle. When we resort to force, as now we must, we are determined that this force shall be directed toward ultimate good as well as against immediate evil. We Americans are not destroyers . . . we are builders."

FDR, December 9, 1941. Full text: at http://www.mhric.org/fdr/chat19.html

I wrapped up work about 2 hours ago. Today was my "long day". If you read the post about deploying below, then you know that on Friday's I come into work about 7 AM, and finish up about 2 AM Saturday morning.

I have about 36 hours until I come into work again. Until then, I won't have access to the Internet. I'll have my computer, and will try to write some. But there won't be any new posts until Sunday night, my time.

I hope everyone has a good weekend.

(Some things you need to know: the chow hall here on this post is managed, under contract, by Kellog, Brown and Root (KBR), and staffed by a subcontractor, ESS (I have no idea what that stands for).)

I have long suspected, given some things that I have been told by soldiers that were here for the initial invasion, that Weapons of Mass Destruction would be found in Iraq. I never expected to ge the proof that I have obtained in the last 36 hours, though.

I have come to the belief that the Department of Defense, and it's contractors are actually creating WMD here in Iraq. Let me explain.

I ate at the chow hall last night. Roast beef, potatoes, and succatash. A couple of hours later, odors started emanating from my intestinal tract. They were ...foul is not the word ... the human body should not be capable of manufacturing what I was smelling. To quote George Carlin: "It's not the smell, it's the BURNING OF MY EYES!"

I am not kidding. If I had not known that they were my own farts, I would have started checking the building I work in for some kind of chemical spill.

Anyway, since I went "there", I guess I'll share with you a little episode that happened a few weeks ago. Since I am discussing my stomach with you, might as well go the rest of the way.

To get you up to speed, it's a rather common experience, when going to a new foreign country, to experience "gastrointestinal distress". There are various germs, and bacteria in any given region that are just part of the environment. The locals are used to them, because they have been exposed to them since birth. But, a newcomer gets hit with them full force, because they are totally different than the set of germs and bacteria that he has already built up resistance to.

So, as in any deployment, most soldiers here experienced ... an "adjustment period". That was complicated by the joy of taking pills for malaria, which are infamous for messing up your stomach. This makes living in a place where the majority of the toilet facilities are porta-potties sitting outside in 120+ degree heat an even more enjoyable experience.

So, anyway, my gut had gotten past all of that, finally.

Then it went in the opposite direction. I don't know how. I don't know why.

But, as I explained to a coworker that asked, I didn't need a laxative. I needed a Lamaze coach. You know, someone to hold my hand ... tell me when to breathe and when to push ... wipe my forehead with a cool cloth, and feed me ice chips.

Just thought I'd share some of the joys of my deployment experience.

(The following was sent to me by a co-worker. It was forwarded to her.
I have no idea who this "Bubba" is.)

Dear Friends,

My wife Toni is fond of saying that my last words on this earth will
be something akin to, "Hey y'all. Hold my beer and watch this!" Well,
I have outdone myself once again. No doubt you will see this true
story chronicled in a Lifetime cable-TV movie in the near future. So,
here goes:

Last weekend I spied something at Larry's Pistol and Pawn that tickled
my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled). I
bought something really cool for Toni. The occasion was our 22nd
anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my
sweet girl. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized
Taser gun with a clip. For those of you who are not familiar with this
product, it is a less-than-lethal stun gun with two metal prongs
designed to incapacitate an assailant with a shock of high-voltage,
low amperage electricity while you flee to safety. The effects are
supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your
assailant, but allowing you adequate time to retreat to safety. You
simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb. tattooed assailant, push the
button, and Bingo, it will render him into a slobbering, goggle-eyed,
muscle-twitching, whimpering, pencil-necked geek. If you've never seen
one of these things in action, then you're truly missing out--way too
cool!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded
two AAA-sized batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button.
Nothing! I was so disappointed. Upon reading the directions ("We don't
need no stinking directions"), I found much to my chagrin that this
particular model would not create an arch between the prongs. How
disappointing! I do love fire for effect. I learned that if I pushed
the button, however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I'd
get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the
prongs that I was so looking forward to. Awesome!!! Sparks, a blue
arch of electricity, and a loud pop!!! Yipeeeeee .
. I'm easily amused, just for your information, but I have yet to
explain to Toni what that burned spot is on the face of her microwave.
Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that
it couldn't be all that bad with only two AAA batteries, etc., etc.
There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently
(trusting little soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not
Gracie) and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a
flesh and blood target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie
for a fraction of a second, but thought better of it. She is such a
sweet kitty, and after all, if I was going to give this thing to Toni
to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it
would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I wrong to think that?
Seemed reasonable to me at the time... So, there I sat in a pair of
shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on
the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, Taser in another. The
directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your
assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and
a loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make
your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. All the
while I'm looking at this little device (measuring about 5" long, less
than 3/4 inch in circumference, pretty cute really, and loaded with
jut two itsy-bitsy AAA batteries) thinking to myself, "No friggin'
way!" Friggin' way -- trust me, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.
Those of you who know me well have got a pretty good idea of what
followed. I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head
cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it buddy," reasoning that a
one-second burst from such a tiny lil' ole thing couldn't hurt all
that bad (sound, rational thinking under the circumstances, wouldn't
you agree?). I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the
hell of it. (Note: You know, a bad decision is like hindsight--always
twenty-twenty. It is so obvious that it was a bad decision after the
fact, even though it seemed so right at the time. Don't you hate
that?) I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and
then HOLY DAaaaauuuuuuMN!!! I'm pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in
through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, and body
slammed me on the carpet over, and over, and over again. I vaguely
recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on fire,
testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked
under my body in the oddest position. Gracie was standing over me
making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face,
undoubtedly thinking to herself, "Do it again. Do it again!"

(Note: If you ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a Taser, one
note of caution. There is no such thing as a one-second burst when you
zap yourself. You're not going to let go of that thing until it is
dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.
Then, if you're lucky, you won't lodge the prongs 1/4" deep into your
thigh like yours truly.) SON-OF-A-***** that hurt!) A minute or so
later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I
collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the
landscape. My reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How
did they get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were
still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain,
as my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. give or take an ounce or two, I'm
pretty sure. By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they
ran away. I'm offering a reward. I miss 'em . . . sure would like to
get 'em back.