84) Perspectives of Horror

After finally getting over my summer laziness and deciding to start reading obsessively again, I managed to finish Studs Terkel's celebrated novel, The Good War.

The entire book is an informal collection of interviews Studs Terkel recorded in the decades following World War 2. The interviews flow freely from all different perspectives, including soldiers that were in direct combat from both sides, to regular civilians caught in bombings.

The interesting parts of the novel are in the divisional split of opinions concerning the war. You have shell shocked veterans who will tell you that the conflict was a terrible atrocity that should never be repeated, while another battle hardened soldier will tell you it was the best thing to happen to America.

Of course, many of these opinions have similar backgrounds depicting young gung-ho teenagers with a patriotic streak. Many of them end with horror stories of detached limbs and lost friends.

The book ends with interviews of young children on a Chicago street, their lives no longer looking forward to their lives, but to expect an unnatural death. Although these kids were interviewed at the height of the Cold War, many of their fears still ring true with today's youngsters. The same understanding, the same expectation, still exists.

Children are now raised to be desensitized to violence in the American culture. Although they may not understand the horrors of war in person, they understand better the perspective of death and its inevitability through the world conflicts that occur today. Our culture of death obsession, our fear of the end in relation to war, is vastly different and detached than the views of our grandfathers. With an almost unstoppable flow of images and videos from the nearest battlefield, we now grow up understanding that human suffering is a much more normal and unstoppable condition, rather than being a simple blight of human nature that befalls the innocent. We've grown to understand that it's much more complicated than black and white when it comes to war and death.

But I digress.

The real point, the real moral of this book, is the simple cliche war is bad. It is very bad. Bad along the lines of an H. G. Wells quote stating "If we don't end war, war will end us."

World War 2 was what really changed America into a unstoppable war machine. It spawned the shift from civilian control of the military to the government. It birthed what Eisenhower so famously stated in his farewell speech: the military-industrial complex.

America can't complain. The government really can't be blamed for starting daily wildfires around the globe if the people allow it to happen. At least, that's the idea.

Part of what I've come to understand about American government is that the peoples' mistrust in Washington stems from their lack of control over what goes on. In a democratic republic like ours, we vest our power into representatives that work around the clock in a white building that is a symbol of power rather than practicality. We can't trust that our representatives will comply with any of our requests. When we vote for them, it requires a leap of faith.

Following this form of government, it's not hard to understand how people become upset when their representatives go rogue, and well, don't represent. That's what drives a lack of interest in Capitol Hill for the average Joe. It fuels discontent, mistrust, and anger when the government makes big decisions we have a disturbing lack of control over.

Before World War 2, we could have a say in going to war. There wasn't anything like the Presidential War Powers Act (and the more recent War Powers Resolution) to give the President leeway in deploying troops carte blanche.

What really disturbs me is the real lack of understanding, the lack of knowing just how little control we exert in the decisions that shape whether or not we go to war. All our leaders have to do is pick up the red phone and whisper a single codeword, and the next world war could start. Not long after, a nuke could land on your house and kill you and your family.

Isn't that the real modern understanding of death? Knowing that as an ordinary citizen, you won't live to see tomorrow just because someone at the top disregards your opinions? Is deciding your fate without your consent?

Then again, I did say that electing your representatives takes a lot of faith.

80) The Impossible Life of Lady Liberty

With end of the year finals approaching and college issues to sift through, I haven't had time lately to do much of anything I'd enjoy. Alas, much of my free time consists of sleeping and video games anyway.

But as Memorial day dawns upon us once more, we recognize the sacrifices and the hardships that American men and women overseas have endured to ensure our continued freedoms and liberties. We do not forget all they have given to help keep alive the country that is the United States.

In the midst of our war, the war that has been the keen cause of all our problems, I've seen a broad spectrum of ideas and actions that define what battle and warfare really means. I've seen the people who are eager to fight, the peaceful protestors that have lined the streets, and the normal worker who couldn't care less.

I've always believed in the firm idea that the hardest part of a battle is not being out on the front lines, but being in the waiting room back home. The hardest part of a war is the mothers worrying about their husbands, the young teens who worry about their big brothers, all wishing for a safe return for their loved ones.

I don't personally know anyone in the war, but that doesn't stop me from worrying about the thousands of soldiers over there, facing a hostility of bullets and rockets that barely conforms to reason and sense.

With my military mind, some would call me a young patriotic that doesn't know any better. They wouldn't be completely wrong. I have no qualms about joining the military, war or not. The puzzling part of it, the piece that you're going to love, is this:

I hate the military. I hate war with an almost insane passion.

I firmly believe the only reason a country should have a military is for self defense. Many militaries around the world serve this purpose, the most notable example being Japan. However, this in itself was forced, a legacy of defeat following an American victory in World War 2.

The Japanese Self Defense Force is the American equivalent of the national guard. It's a defense army, the only army that exists for the nation island of Japan. They've got a handful of air fighters and a sparse number of soldiers to prepare for the invasion that might never come. With North Korea showing signs of overeager hostility, the JSDF is becoming more important these days.

But you see, in Japan, it's almost a mark of shame to join the military. The JSDF is restricted from international warfare, making them a pretty inactive and dull organization. Their real purpose is really just to stand guard in the watchtower. If an invasion actually occurred, Japan's allies would most likely bear the brunt of the work, helping to repel the invaders and clean up the mess.

Which is why most Japanese turn to the JSDF as a last choice. There's no honor or glory to be gained. The pay and the regular meals are pretty much the only incentive to join. Not to mention supporting an organization that was built around obeying the bigger world powers.

Or, from America's perspective:


Yes, you guessed it, the JSDF is an American legacy of war. It's how the United States decided to handle the Japanese 'situation'. It was a way for Washington D.C. to keep tabs on Asia and the spread of communism. It was a way to deter those who would dare fight against Uncle Sam.

But, what I find most interesting, and what I believe most anti-war Americans would love imposed on the U.S. military, is one of Japan's basic policies concerning national defense:

2. To avoid becoming a major military power that might pose a threat to the world.

And look at Japan nowadays. One of the greatest powers after the the Cold War, with an economy and workforce that emphasizes honor and efficiency. They haven't instigated a war in the past seventy years and have done just fine.

The United States? Not so much.

Here in the U.S., you're shunned for not taking a violent stance, whether it be for or against a war. Ironic, no? Here we emphasize that individuality and debate, the spirit of unity, and the fairness of politics, is the right way to approach domestic and international problems.

Not a problem, except for the fact that it's caused a couple dozen wars, the most recent collapsing the American economy, and in turn, the international economy. Not to mention a discontent population reduced to focusing on the wrong things, all the while waiting for a Deux Ex Machina that will never come.

On top of all that, I have to worry about paying for college and finding a job that probably won't be there in a couple of months. If all else fails, my backup plan is to join the U.S. military, thus advocating the agenda of a superpower I don't believe in.

If you ask the United States, I'm sure they'd tell you we're all for world peace, and then point you toward the nearest military quagmire. But then again, we don't all do as we say, right?

So congratulations, U.S of A, for instilling on me a hopeless and bleak future. But if you ever need more victims for the next war, be sure to call me. I know my college degree will be worth less everyday.

This is really important to me, because I've thought about it in terms of my life. Even though it shouldn't be a shock to me, I've reached their age. The soldiers over there fighting in the Middle East could not have been older than me when the war started and they signed up to go overseas. We're that same age now. They had just barely finished high school when they decided to delay college and go out to fight.

They were my age when they took a bullet to the head and died.

Ten years have passed and now here I am, in their position. That's how long the war has been going on. I've grown up with it. I'm so sick of hearing about, so sick of it shaping my life and warping my plans for the future. I'm sick of it not ending, and being completely helpless to it's whims.

Well, not completely helpless. I could always sign up and help the war end faster. It would help make me die earlier, which at this point, seems to be more productive than getting a college degree just so that I can go bankrupt over student loans and starve to death on the streets.

For you older readers out there, be thankful that this decade of war is just another footnote in your lives.

For younger people like me, we can't ever forget the negative impressions of the war that has taken so much of our hope and happiness. It is an integral part of our lives that we can't forget, shaping the people we will be.

It's a war that has decided the new economy, the chances of us getting a job, the chances of us pursing our dreams. A war that has forced us to give up our thinking for guns. Forced some of us to be killed.

If you're an adult, you should know better than to advocate and imprint war on the young. We fight because you fight.

But, if you're a young adult like me, I only have one thing to say:


Godspeed. I'll see you on the other side.

78) Kilroy Was Here

I've always been a military mind, and people around me never cease to bring up how much I actually scare them. With a "unique" mind like mine, I don't imagine "normal" people know the name of Hitler's plan to invade Russia, how far your heart can pump blood out of an open neck artery, or the strength of the most dangerous nuclear weapon ever built.

In case you're curious, highlight the answers: 1) Operation Barbarossa, 2) 30 feet 3) Tsar Bomba, 10-30-1961, ~50 Megatons TNT. Explosion produced 1.4% output of the sun and shattered windows 560 miles away.

But in the end, it all comes back to my morbid fascination with death. Such a powerful force that seems truly inevitable and infinitely unquenchable. It is the one thing every person in this world knows, regardless of faith, color, and creed.

Perhaps more interesting is the intricacies that lace a military that deals such death in a glorified manner. Every country, every state, has some sort of armed force, if only for the sole purpose of defense. Some countries, like Japan, operate by such a doctrine, constrained by an inherited legacy. Others, like the United States, have no shortage of patriots being led to any battle, anywhere, anytime.

But it's the little things away from the battlefield that interest me. More specifically, what war forces people to because of the circumstances in front of them. Atomic weapons, flameless ration heaters, or military theory grabs my attention because it requires the greatest discipline and innovation humankind has ever produced.

And then there is the camaraderie, whimsical intrigue of inside jokes, national pride, and everything else in between. I'm sure Kilroy would agree:

Kilroy, in his natural habitat.

And then there is the soldier. Hollywood knows the lowly grunt all too well, along with his more popular relative, the crew-cut cigar smoking general.

It's all representative of a much more savage truth, the one we lie to ourselves about, because it's such an contradiction that everyone is ashamed of.

We kill in battle for "peace". And that cycle can never be broken.

And that truth drives militaries to prosper, backed by the many politicians who have never been shot at, egged on by the masses who are too naturally xenophobic.

We train the young to continue the cycle. We break them down to nothing and build them back up into something that they should be repulsed at. But humans are malleable, and they know how to bypass ethics in the name of peer pressure.

The U.S. and its increasingly violent tendencies follow a spiral of sustained operant conditioning. In Colonel David Grossman's On Killing, he puts it bluntly, even on the back cover of the book:

In World War II, only 15 to 20 percent of combat infantry were willing to fire their rifles. In Korea, about 50 percent. In Vietnam, the figure rose to more than 90 percent.

And what I find most amusing is the little things we do to try and cover up our ethical indecencies. As evidenced by General George S. Patton in World War 2, you can march them off a cliff, order them into suicide charges, but for some reason, you can't slap them.

With all the things a regular soldier represents, I again found it interesting how far we've gone.

So imagine my curiosity when I come across this article:

Photos show US soldiers in Afghanistan posing with dead civilians

'Trophy' pictures show US soldiers posing with corpses of Afghan civilians they are accused of killing for sport

The face of Jeremy Morlock, a young US soldier, grins at the camera, his hand holding up the head of the dead and bloodied youth he and his colleagues have just killed in an act military prosecutors say was premeditated murder.

Moments before the picture was taken in January last year, the unsuspecting victim had been waved over by a group of US soldiers who had driven to his village in Kandahar province in one of their armoured Stryker tanks...The pictures include a similar photograph of a different soldier posing with the same victim and a photograph of two other civilians killed by the unit.

I've always thought that there was a limit to human depravity before people simply went insane. Then again, we as humans are not considered insane when we go to war for almost anything, even over dead pigs.

I'm far beyond being convinced that the primal urge to kill is in the human genome. But sometimes I am skeptical. Are we raised to kill, or are we just simply born with it? What is it that draws us to death?

Is it the aesthetic beauty in playing chess with death? The adrenaline in grazing the inevitable constant of the universe?

Is it the desperate need to know about the one thing that unites us all in the beginning and the end?

To understand our deathly addictions, let me introduce Exhibit A, Francis Ford Coppola's classic film Apocalypse Now, where we are treated to a surreal journey into a Vietnam warscape that few see, and even fewer understand.

At it's near climax, we are treated to a speech about the perverse beauty in war:

I remember when I was with Special Forces. Seems a thousand centuries ago. We went into a camp to inoculate the children. We left the camp after we had inoculated the children for Polio, and this old man came running after us, and he was crying. He couldn't see. We went back there, and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm. There they were in a pile. A pile of little arms. And I remember … I … I … I cried. I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out. I didn't know what I wanted to do. And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it. I never want to forget.

And then I realized … like I was shot … like I was shot with a diamond … a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought: My God … the genius of that. The genius. The will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we. Because they could stand that these were not monsters. These were men … trained cadres. These men who fought with their hearts, who had families, who had children, who were filled with love … but they had the strength … the strength … to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men, then our troubles here would be over very quickly.

You have to have men who are moral … and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling … without passion … without judgment … without judgment. Because it's judgment that defeats us.

My judgment? I'll reserve it. I won't judge those poor soldiers and whatever forced them to pose with dead bodies.

Let's not be afraid to be ashamed about death. What we need is an open discussion, an acceptance of what is final to help us appreciate our very temporary lives. It might not end war, but hell, it's a much better alternative than giving into the law of temptations. That's when the real killing starts.

Or maybe it's completely the other way around. We know too much about death. Our constant wars and desensitization to violence on television and in the movies has forced us to delve deeper into ourselves. It's a desperate attempt to find feeling and meaning using the extreme ends of pain and suffering.

As for me, I can say that understanding death reaffirms something I've been saying for years:

You're not ready to live if you're not ready to die.

My own obsession with the end isn't a excuse for what I really think death is. I know many classmates who have that gleam in their eye, that cautious glare of transient curiosity when I openly talk about death and how it relates to almost anything.

You can't be blamed for wanting to know about what's natural. It is one of those subjects that is annoying and difficult to explain. It makes people uncomfortable in front of others, where I don't think it should be. It carries such a stigma of negative connotation.

When I'm older, maybe I'll have less of a skewed view about death and fear it for potentially taking away the things I care about.

But when teenagers start talking openly about dying, I'm not sure it's something we should be proud about. The American indoctrination schedule is right on time.

So, let's go back to where we started:

I'm a military mind. I'm a deathly mind.

Should I be proud of that?

What about the human war mind? Our death wishes?

Should you be proud of that?

77) Lack Of Words

As a classical pessimist, It's not hard for me to spin world events into a collection of indicators revealing the end of the world. Besides the regular news of war and disaster that have become increasingly vital in the past few weeks, I'd like to share my take on what it all means.

As I'm currently trying to enjoy my spring break, I'm plagued by writer's block. Not because I have nothing to write about, but because I have failed to find a satisfactory method to express my feelings toward world events. It would be easy to blame school for my lack of inspiration, but in the end, there are some things that need to be said, regardless of circumstance.

There are never enough words to express thought. The English language is varied and ambiguous, with a lexicon that can sometimes perverse meaning. The opposite is also true, allowing for simple shades to dictate powerful and specific words like "red" or "liquid". And don't even get me started on describing metaphysics.

As the aftershocks in Japan continue to take lives, and another war is being born in Libya, I would like to describe the state of affairs using a simple word:

Human.

Now, this isn't me being lazy by lacking specifics, which I will get to in a second. It is, ironically, me being highly specific by using a word that is very general, yet describing lone concepts present in everybody that are easy to understand.

When I first heard of the earthquake in Japan, my eyes were glued to the screen as I watched houses being swept away, wondering how many bodies were underneath all that rubble. The only thing my mother complained about was how she had just lost money by buying Japanese stocks that were now destined to lose value. As I pointed out that there were people dying on the screen, she told me about her frugality: "It's human nature."

As news stories unfolded about the devastation, I continued to watch in horror, angry at mother nature for killing innocent lives for some cruel and unjustifiable reason. I wanted to help.

On Facebook, a help Japan group sprouted overnight, which would give a cent to the Red Cross for every person that joined. It reached its numbers goal overnight. Support like this, along with help from many other countries, poured in to aid Japan in its time of need.

On the other hand, I came across a picture compilation of Facebook statuses saying that the tsunami was payback for Pearl Harbor. And then there was that one religious girl who claimed she had prayed for the destruction and death of the nonbelievers. She was promptly forced off of Youtube in the face of death threats when her address was made public.

When it was reported that aftershocks would sweep across the Pacific, I worried for my good friend in Hawaii. Luckily, he was okay when the weakened waves hit. I worried for my own life when the tsunami advisory warning was issued for the West Coast.

But I'm here today, still in shock over the devastation that has occurred. It gave me a glimmer of hope to hear that even the Yakuza in Japan had ceased their crime operations to keep order and provide disaster relief. It was a quote along the lines of: "Sometimes, we are just human beings trying to help each other."

I feel sadness for many of my friends who have relatives in Japan. One of them is an angry and bitter sadist now reduced to constant worry, streaming Facebook statuses that fears for the safety of a certain person. I don't know who it is, but I hope they are alive and well.

Not too many days after the quake in Japan, the world's spotlight became shifted, and now rests on Libya as war unfolds. Gadhafi is vowing to fight to the death as UN coalition forces converge to protect innocent civilians from the line of fire. As Benghazi and Tripoli burn, we are again reminded for the human compulsion to fight and die.

Despite all this terror and tragedy, I still look at the word "human" and try to dissect its meaning. What I've found are people holding onto each other as their homes and lives are destroyed by a great flood. I see people worrying about each other thousands of miles away. I see aid flowing in from all directions for Japan, signs that the world shares a common bond in the face of unjustified death.

I see "human" in the revolutions that rock the Middle East, along with the continuing war in Afghanistan and Iraq. I watch as the Associated Press shows footage of a jet crashing into the ground after it takes a direct hit by a missile. It spirals into the ground, engine on fire, crashing with a large and booming explosion. I see a Tomahawk cruise missile launch from the deck of a coalition warship, streaming smoke and fire in its wake.

Yes, the English language struggles when I try to describe what "human" means. It is a careful mix of compassion, sadness, cooperation, anger, practicality, freedom, and everything in between.

And as a "human", I advocate that we continue to survive because of all these things. Humanity is a blessing when we can help our neighbor after their house is destroyed. Humanity is a curse when we turn against that neighbor after they've found a new life.

But in this desperate hour, we stand divided and united. We fight our petty wars, mourn our family members, and try to see the dawn after a long and perilous night.

So maybe it's for the best that the English language won't let me fully define "human" to a satisfying extent. To do so would take away from its unique and sacred qualities that dictate our abilities to survive, live, love, and die.

All I know is that we are human.

And most importantly, humanity survives. We will do what must be done, right or wrong.

75) The War Incarnate

The following is my speech in favor of a bill that would reduce military spending in the U.S. budget for my school's mock congress. One minute is not alot of time to preach.

Speech Text – Pro H.R. 278 (Reduce Military Spending)

Dwight D. Eisenhower was a general who helped the United States win World War 2. He was not only renowned for his ability to work with famous leaders such as de Gaulle and Churchill, but also for his ability to see the United States for what it is in relation to the world.

When he left office as the 34^th president of the United States, he warned us of the growing U.S. military and the looming threat of the Cold War. He believed that the United States, composed of competent and intelligent individuals, would eventually put a stop to both. We won the Cold War, but we did not stop growing the military.

If we are to be sure of anything, it’s that brute force will not win us wars. It won’t defend us. Having the best funded military in the world did not help America win Vietnam, and it is not helping us win the war in the Middle East now. H.R. 278 not only works to correct wasteful spending, but also helps us understand an important concept: that having the most expensive military is not the best thing in the world. We are wasting taxpayer dollars to buy new planes to replace ones that haven’t even lived for five years. We spend more money on the military than China, France, Russia, the UK, and the next ten countries down combined.

I started with Eisenhower, so I’ll end with a quote from him: “Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in the final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. War solves nothing.”

74) Damn Robots

>>TO: UEF ULTRABAND (C-34928S)
>>FROM: CORPORAL FALL H. VALKYIR (UHF-98U-9ITY-78)
>>SUBJECT: BURN LETTER
>>READCON: READ UPON DEATH/MIA
>MESSAGE START<

This is one of those mandatory letters they make you write in restCON to make you think about the perspectives you have in life and make you more "human". God knows we need enough of that these days. Goddamn cams are watching me right now, so I guess I'll start from the top.

I was born in New San Diego, UEF. January 22, 2278. Blasted through school as one of those students in the back that never raised a hand. Hell, do they even do classrooms anymore? I don't know. Everything's a bit fuzzy since the last memory wipe.

Can't remember those days. Pushed it down further than I thought, specifically when I came out to my parents that I was gay. That was a nuclear firestorm to set me in the military anyway. Screw my parents. I was just being honest. Was that so wrong? I remembered a time when it wasn't illegal to be who you were. They proved the gay gene existed, and it still wasn't enough. Hell, I don't even know what I'm angry about anymore.

While we're being honest, I was scared shitless, bouncing around the streets. Stories and adventures not worth telling. Then the war. I was 22 then.

Everyone loves to praise technological advances, and then one day they gain sentience and decide to wipe out humanity. It's difficult to feel safe when every street corner has a microchip tracking you 24/7. They had to pull the plug on the entire grid. The chaos was incredible, humans so reliant on tech that they couldn't handle a blackout. Heard a couple thousand committed suicide because they lost access to the net.

But, back to honesty. That's all the rage these days. Ask the robots and they'll tell you the only truth is for humanity's extinction. Your coms always need you to be honest short of just reading your brain. No reason not to, but it's hard to tell the truth when you're fighting invincible machines that feel nothing. Find one guy who tells you he's not scared, and I promise you he's a lying sack of shit.

It's ironic really, that humans need to feel more robotic to fight them. You can trade your memories for rank promotions, replacing them with indoc materials. Suddenly you wake up and you can't remember where you were born, who your parents were, or how you got into this mess. Funny I can't remember what I chose to forget. That irony's overrated nowadays.

We're treated like them too, eating, sleeping, and fighting like we're machines. If you die, they throw your dog file into the heap, where it gets sent to whoever in the family still remembers you. My parents are probably dead, but I don't really care. Most of my family died when they took San Antonio. Maybe they turned into machines. I'd like to shoot through their metal skulls.

Yet here we are, part of the bullshit "Humanization Program" to emphasize our human qualities. We're amazing little people that went to the moon, cured cancer, and solved world hunger, all on our own, without the help of AI's. They make us have sex whenever possible to try and bring out those "emotions". Weird thing is, I think the machines wanna kill us because they don't understand human emotion. Maybe they're jealous? I wouldn't mind giving a robot a blowie.

Not to mention how hard it is for me to try. They make me pair up with a girl in the company, some beautiful little thing whose name I can't remember right now, mostly because I wish it was a guy and they don't allow that. I should be thankful they haven't taken me out back and shot me already, but I think it's because they need every last man. Breed kids for the war. Become sex crazed breeding robots so you can create more robots to fight robots.

Maybe the best part of this war is you're not actually killing other humans. Feel thankful that we're not like our grandfathers that used to fight each other, back when countries still existed. All we are is just a good little line of toy soldiers popping laser aimed shots into robot head plates like it was some sort of perverse fetish. The armor injects you with a combat high when you do it, like some sort of valtrix drug that gives you a euphoric burst. You get a high every time a robot gets phazed in the head.

That's the military for you. The protector of humanity. UEF goes a long way in a society that embraces violence and savagery. Take a guy like me off the street, and transform that rage into something you can't recognize.

The military for the savior. A soulless automatic construct that takes you and shapes you into what it wants. Humans are infinitely malleable, and they made me believe my commanders and bunkmates are the best thing in the world. Fighting for a common cause, dying for what's right, that's the good stuff. Can't complain, though. Get free meals, play with big guns, play with girls, and then play with the robots. It's all relative. Heaven if I ever saw one.

I think I finally remember what I told them to erase. Not that it matters. What was his name? Jacob? I don't know. Not worth digging back into.

I don't know that anyone's going to read this. Probably not. They don't tell you which burn letter they save. Anyways, I've passed the minimum word limit, so here's me signing off.

Any future people that read this, don't put blind faith in machines. They'll end up sucking you into death. Give human emotions some credit. We're not meant to be goddamn calculators.

Try being who you are. Or don't. They'll wipe your memory anyway.

>MESSAGE END<
>>ARCHIVED SU-897O

71) Legacy Of The Hopeless

Join us for a long awaited YOMcast as I rant on about America's war in the Middle East, explain a view on Don't Ask Don't Tell, reflect on the past decade of events (video), look at Korea's tension war, North Korea's willingness to open up, and prepare a message for the future...

69) Necessary Evil

With the two Koreas tense after an exchange of artillery gunfire, alot of my friends (myself included) are inclined to be subconsciously afraid of world war three. North Korean military is no joking matter, especially when nuclear weapons are thrown into the equation.

Now that the U.S. carrier George Washington is in the Yellow Sea to help South Korea perform military maneuvers, both sides have their guns locked and loaded. It's no longer a matter of who fires first, for we already know that. It's a matter of who has more restraint.

Let's not forget that the North Korean throne has just passed to Kim Jong Il's younger son, Kim Jong Un. Will this younger leader show military restraint, or we he finally take the first step to reunify Korea in a bloody conflict? For the sake of the world, let's hope he makes the right choice.

And hence we arrive to my conclusions on war:

It is a necessary evil. Hundreds and thousands of years of war has not quelled the human instinct for violence. It sure as hell isn't going to stop soon. World peace is an idealist illusion formed out of hope, hope which is dimming by the second.

I hold this hope too. That one day world peace can occur. But for the moment, we're not ready. We're not ready until the entire world perishes in a nuclear fire, not until we understand that our capacity for hostility is the greatest setback to the utopias we try to build for ourselves.

Let's face it: without war, we have no way to gauge our appreciation for peace. We would not know the cost, the value, the beauty of pacifism. We cannot deprive the world of it's outlet for innovation and bravery.

Of course, it's more than valid to argue that the cost in lives is not worth it.

Which is why I always remember a little thing I wrote:

If humanity is not immortal,
And death is never rare,
Why fear the end,
Or how we get there?

But that's just me and my pessimism. For those who still believe in the notion of world peace, I encourage you to never stop trying.

But if tomorrow we die in a nuclear firestorm, I won't fear it. Not because I saw it coming, but because I understood why it happened.

That's worth a helluva lot when you're talking about human nature.

66) Just A Shot Away

As the conflict in the Middle East wages on, gamers are anticipating a new war from the past. With the video game industry drying out ideas from America's past, present, and future wars, there is still one pinnacle of horror mainstream developers have not yet canonized.

Vietnam.

Treyarch's Call of Duty: Black Ops, dumps the player in America's misunderstood war, taking place in the dense jungles of Vietnam. There are shots of other levels on snowy mountains, presumed to be in Russia. We are in the Cold War era, after all.

Treyarch might not be doing it intentionally, but them seem to be triggering the video gamer generation's fascination with two unpopular and confounding wars. In the sixties, the youth were in full revolt with the old class, trying to end the seemingly pointless war in Vietnam. Today, youth protests no longer hold the weight they once did, if they exist at all. It's a important thing to understand.

The parallels are staggering. Not since The Forever War have the similarities been presented in such a popular and addicting manner. Both eras in American history were marked by internal strife of rights, dead-end wars, unpopular governments, and ailing economies. It was civil rights then, gay marriage now. Vietnam and Iraq. Nixon and Bush. Recession of 69' and Great Recession now.

Point is, both wars past and present serve to link together an experience current fathers and grandfathers can describe as a chilling echo of their youth. More importantly, this all helps shed more light on the veterans of an almost forgotten war. In Vietnam, soldiers went, fought, and came back. But there were no parades for them waiting at home. There were no instantaneous monuments. Heroes were forgotten.

If anything, Black Ops serves as a history lesson for those not old enough to understand the past, even if it's only a guidebook on weapons and machines of war. We get to see the differences and similarities that transcend leaders and borders. We get to see human nature in its glorious and destructive form:

The Rolling Stones' Gimme Shelter serves as a nice touch.

Perhaps the most special thing about Black Ops is its easter egg. You see, Treyarch's last game was Call of Duty: World at War, which depicted the Russian and Pacific Fronts of World War Two. The easter egg in that game was Nacht der Untoten, a game mode where you and three other friends play as Marines stuck inside a house being assaulted by Nazi zombies.

By popular demand, Treyarch reintroduced this in Black Ops, except this time you're fighting in the Pentagon. It's still just you and three friends, but you're not playing Marines anymore.

From left to right: Robert McNamara, John F. Kennedy, Fidel Castro, Richard Nixon

I really couldn't think of a better way to insert a president into a video game. It's not crazy, it's just politics:

Alternate links here and here. Nice to see Nixon's as grouchy as ever.

Maybe that's the best solution for world wars. Stick the leaders in a room with zombies and have them fight as allies. You could make them friends pretty damn quickly. Plus, it's always nice to hear Kennedy shout: "Can you dig it?"

So get the game when it comes out November 9. I promise you won't be disappointed. And above all else, walk away from it knowing this simple rule:

War is always just a shot away.

54) Fire Against Fire

Everybody has some sense of what the calm before the storm is. Whether it be a stop in the wind, or a anxious wait before going on stage, everybody knows the feeling.

Some people love it. A nervous and fleeting second where your body trembles in anticipation, waiting for the event to come. Depending on the situation, you might be smiling, you might be praying, or even crying.

It's the feeling you get as your heart races before stepping on stage to the welcoming applause. It's the steady anticipation of running from cover to the rain because you have no umbrella. It's the tilt of your eyes as you stare intently at the screen for the opening kick off at the Super Bowl.

This time tested moment is experienced by every person at least once in their lifetime, a trial of nerves that can leave a person speechless and unable to move.

The calm before the storm, as it were.

Sometimes it lasts for seconds, minutes, or even days. The prior knowledge of what is to happen next is either embroiled with cheery excitement or dreadful pessimism. Some are crushed by the weight of the moment, dissolving into a mess of tears and hyperventilation.

Others step up to the challenge, hiding their fear away from their otherwise careful observers. They know peers will look upon them, judging them at every step. Inside, they scream as they charge into the fray.

It's in our blood. Our humanity demands that we experience nervousness and anxiety. Our parents and their fathers have felt the same, whether it be before speaking on a podium, or banging their swords against shields as the battle line forms.

It is this immense anxiety that grips the young as they dive into school every year. As my educational journey takes another progressive step, I am beginning to feel the calm.

It's hard to pin it down. Humanity aside, I have no reason to feel this way. Along with my peers, we've all done this multiple times before. More times than can be mentioned. We know there is nothing to be worried about. We know exactly where to go and what to do.

But for a young sire like me, it all becomes subjunctive.

I learned how to deal with it in my own way a long time ago. Even as a young child, I would play it in my head over and over again as an act of inevitability. It was like pieces on a chessboard, waiting to be moved for the game ahead. My mind knew exactly how to metaphorize the journey ahead.

For me, school became war.

In third grade, I was a knight against dragons.

In fifth grade, I became Norman Cavalry at Hastings.

In eighth grade, I was an American GI on D-Day.

In eleventh grade, I became a fighter pilot for the Invictan Response Force Air Force.

Through this, alot of people are often cautious, even scared by the military vibe I give off. I don't care to try and explain to them that I don't see school the way they do.

I see a large battlefield of swords when I walk out into the hallway at the lunch bell. When a teacher gives out instructions, I see a mission briefing. When the class falls silent under the stress of work, I see a command center of people screaming into their mikes as soldiers fall not more than a few miles away.

Don't get me wrong, I still know how to separate myself from this delusional fantasy I indulge in. If anything, this makes my school days much more bearable and interesting. It makes me actually want to be in a classroom. Assignments become a serious matter of life and death. It's a justification to stay in hell.

Because, well, you fight hell with hell. Fire with fire.

You can laugh at me, pity me all you want. But the truth is that we all need our coping mechanisms. When someone dies, we cry. When somebody is born, we cry.

When somebody goes into hell, they fight.

So waiting for another school year that's about to come doesn't seem so bad. Sure, I can feel the anxiety and the shakes, but it's all the calm before the storm. I'm just waiting for another year-long war to fight. This is how I survive.

This year, I think I'll be an ODST.