Add Your Own Joke Day

Sometimes jokes write themselves, sometimes you don’t need to write a joke because nothing you can say is funnier that what was already said seriously.  In this case I’m asking for participation in helping me make jokes because I would like to see how many original ones we can get.

The article is from the Palm Beach Post and titled; FEMA’s use of the term “federal family” for government expands under Obama. *

Here is a nice quote:

“Under the direction of President Obama and Secretary Janet Napolitano, the entire federal family is leaning forward to support our state, tribal and territorial partners along the East Coast,” a FEMA news release declared Friday as Irene churned toward landfall.

OK people here is the challenge.  I need jokes but since the “Big Brother” joke is just so easy that it doesn’t need to be said any joke referencing 1984 has to be very original and not use the term “Big Brother”.  Other than that go for it with either a joke off of the idea of a “federal Family’ or go for a Fark type joke with a fake title to this article or an article talking about a “Federal Family” or a fake book about it.

I’ll start off and you finish off in the comments section.

Joke 1:   So if the government is a family and they have congress does that mean they’re all inbreed?

Joke 2:  Why is my father always taking my allowance to give to my lazy brother?

Joke 3:  Are we adopting people illegally or is it kidnaping?

OK, it’s your turn have fun with it.

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* I’m almost positive I’m screwing up like 10 rules for proper writing here so it’s normal for this internet skidmark.

Quote Of The Day: 911 Edition.

“I’ll just add here that commemorating 9/11 seems to me a stupid idea in
itself. A nation should commemorate its achievements, its moments of glory.
Low points like 9/11 should be passed over in grim silence, or marked by
launching a few well-aimed barrages of cruise missiles.” – John Derbyshire

 

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This is the truth.  Don’t forget it but don’t wallow in it.  Remember it, understand it, and break the fucks that did it so hard no one will ever try it again because they will remember not what they did so much as the consequences rained down upon them for doing it.

 

 

 

 

Tuesday Nights With Beer: A Drunken Rant For The Rantless

I haven’t written much lately and well…  Yeah I think I already started two rants like this so lets move on.

I got a new computer in case you care.  You don’t but we will talk about it anyway.  It’s a laptop and for some reason if I don’t have the thing plugged in the screen is at least 35% darker than it is if it is plugged in.  I don’t think I care but it’s odd.  But on the new computer thing I got a laptop but I didn’t get rid of my old desktop since it still works and no matter how many times my friends say I should get rid of it I just can’t.  It’s awesome.  well it’s not that great but it’s old and getting slow but I blame that on it not being made for Japanese power outlets since they run off less juice and the fact that it’s held together with duct tape and clay.  That and I built it out of mostly spare parts.  And clay…

I’m still living in japan and we still don’t have mutants or a million dead from radiation so I still think I’m right about the media not knowing what the fuck they are talking about.

So a lot of rioting in the UK is going on.  Or was.  I did find quite a few things funny about it since people were saying it was working class kids angry at the system for getting them or some bullshit but as Mark Steyn mentioned can you really call them working class if none of them have ever worked or their parents?  To paraphrase anyway.  The other thing was these were not all poor kids living off the dole, there were a lot of people from monied families taking part in it.  I know i talk shit about the UK all the time but seriously what is wrong with the place?  England has the most expansive welfare state in Europe (according to Europeans) and still these kids are angry?  What more do you fuckers want since it’s not jobs according to many of the british commentators it’s very hard to fill a job with English kids since they don’t even bother to apply for jobs and most places would rather higher eastern Europeans since they will actually show up and work. Do yourself a favor England give people back their guns, let them protect themselves, and force these kids off the dole and to get jobs and actually work.  And for the brats with money that pull the same shit fuck them up and teach them a lesson about being civilized human beings.  And stop being a bunch of wankers.  I don’t hate the UK or England you gave the world so much, like good beer, The Damned and the Gin n’ Tonic but you really got to pull your shit together.

Speaking of England apparently there is a group in England that want’s to create Islamic hamlets in certain parts of England that would essentially be independent states run off of Sharia law.  Really guys you don’t want to stop this?  You have Imams there living off of the dole (you know where you pay them not to work) and they are saying the want to secede from England and have their own state on your territory and you don’t do anything about this?  Cancel their government paychecks at least guys, your basically paying people to sit around and scream about revolting and you do nothing?

So in the news today I read a story about how climate change was causing higher rates of mental illness.  All I could think while reading it was maybe mental illness was causing higher rates of people yelling about climate change.   Seriously it used to be global cooling and that didn’t pan out so it was global warming.  Now it’s climate change so we can all claim anything and everything is…  Fuck you hippies.

Why does canned asparagus taste like crap but frozen if good while canned green beans taste good but frozen taste like crap?  Why does Smithwick’s beer always taste like rust out of a bottle but good out of a keg?  Why do poor people in America have cell phones, the internet, cars, and flat screen TV’s while poor people in other places have dysentery and mud houses.  These are the things we need to know.

If you don’t understand why you should hate Rachel Carson watch someone die of malaria.  I have.

In music news Gibson Guitars got raided by the Feds for using wood illegally purchased from India based off of an Indian export law on wood.  Now mind you many other US guitar companies use the same wood but Gibson gets raided but not them.  Martin uses the same wood but gives money to Democrats and Obama, Gibson gives money to Republicans and doesn’t use union labor.  Now this is the second time Obama’s DOJ has raided Gibson and the first time they never filed charges (because there was no crime) but after two years haven’t returned the confiscated wood and now they do it again.  Look the Indian government certified the wood for export, US customs certified the word for entry into the US and now the DOJ is raiding Gibson?  For what?  Breaking and Indian law the Indian government said wasn’t broken?  Now I don’t know if this was politically motivated but even if it isn’t what the fuck is going on in DC?

Arabic Numerals are from India.  The reason the are called that is because it was introduced to Europe from the Middle East.

I like Jelly beans but the people who make them need to do better.  You get a bag with 100 different flavors and while many are good you have a bunch that suck.  I hate coconut and vanilla so stop putting them in there and I have no idea why anyone thought the popcorn ones tasted like anything but shit.  Can’t I just get a bag of the awesome ones like peach and root beer? It’s like Jolly Ranchers you buy a bag and you only eat half since you hate the other half.  And who the hell likes banana flavored anything?  I like – or at least don’t mind – a banana but for some reason anything that is banana flavored tastes like what happens after you ferment a banana in a hookers asshole filled with toxic waste and used embalming fluid.  Well at least it isn’t coconut.

Back onto my new computer.  It’s great I mostly use it for looking up shit when playing video games so depending on your view it may not have been worth it.  But fuck you I contributed to the economy something way to many people don’t even pretend to do.  Still you don’t care and probably shouldn’t…

I realized the other day I only use my vacation days when I want to go to a concert in the middle of the week and don’t want to go into work the next day.  Considering I have a ton of the things saved up I really need to take a real vacation.  The problem with vacations (or even weekends) is that I am never more angry at work than after a day off.  I really need a new job but they pay me to live in Japan (although that’s probably not why I get the paycheck) so I can’t complain that much.  No, no I can, fuck these guys.

Money can’t buy happiness but it can buy pleasure and that’s good enough.

So apparently in several cities they have been having racial charged flash mobs.  Now the police and politicians aren’t calling it that and a lot of places are kind of pretending the racial aspect of it doesn’t exist but it does.  This is wrong tell the truth about things no matter how ugly.

Just so you know in the event of a race riot I will shoot anyone involved no matter what their skin color is so leave me out of your idiocy and in the event of a race war I completely condone the use of chemical, biological and nuclear weapons against all parties involved.    Seriously I’m not going to fuck around with you morons.

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I hate it here…

Quote Of The Day

We have the greatest men and women fighting in our armed services and they should not be subject by playing spread the wealth by war.

– Sonnie Johnson

 

 

FYI, trying to transcribe a quote from a speech is annoying vice the ease of copy/paste.

People Want Higher Taxes. For You, Not them.

So the other day* Obama claimed the other day the 80% of America wanted higher taxes?  Um, right.  OK lets pretend this is true.  How many of those people want higher taxes for themselves?  I’m going to go with a lot less than 80%, there are people out there that want higher taxes but for other people or on things they don’t use but I doubt anywhere close to 80% that Obama claims want higher taxes for themselves (maybe 3%).  It’s always easy to get support for taxing the crap out of someone else, the rich (whatever someone’s personal idea of who is rich), corporations and smokers are always easy targets but tell people that you are going to make say the 50% of the public that doesn’t pay income tax or try to tax a union members benefits package and suddenly the idea of taxes is a horrible thing and you are a horrible person for mentioning it.  See almost no one wants to pay higher taxes since everyone wants to keep as much of their money as they can but there are a lot of people out there that have no problem with making other people pay higher taxes because really “fuck them I want my benefits but don’t really want to pay for it”.  See people look at all the crap the government gives away and say “Hey free shit gimme, gimme, gimme” and either don’t know that nothing is or can be free or frankly don’t care because they honestly believe they shouldn’t have to work for or take care of themselves, and that’s just sad.  They say the rich are greedy and that might be true but people are greedy when they’re poor too so it’s really just hypocrisy and class warfare rather than a real statement of some great truth.  You want truth.  People can be greedy. there is your truth.  No qualifiers just that one sentence.  People can also be nice, heroic, cowardly, deceitful, attractive, ugly, loving, hateful and short.  Once again it’s truth because people can be all of those and some people can be many of those together since people can be contradictory.  It’s not about how much money you have that makes you something it’s about what you do with your life.  Yes life can be easier if you have money but even money doesn’t always make life easy but that is another rant.

There are a lot of people out there that think the government is a charity organization and expect people (usually other people) to pay for that.  That’s wrong the government isn’t a charity organization and forcing other people to pay for you pet projects or your causes isn’t charity.  What people who want higher taxes really want is to redistribute other people wealth, and I really do mean other people’s since if they really wanted more money to go to this or that they could take out their checkbook and hold off on that new Blu-Ray player or iPad.   But no we don’t want that we want other people to pay, hell a lot of people as I already said don’t even want to pay for their own stuff and want to make other do it, that’s why you have people calling cell phones, vacations and internet access civil rights that the government should pay for (or in other words taxes payers).

 

I know Obama once said he actually believes his own bullshit but he doesn’t really believe this “80% of people want higher taxes” bullshit does he?  I might buy it if he had said 45% of the US populations want’s higher taxes and 97% of those people want higher taxes for other people.  Even if somehow this 80% number was true what are the reasons for this number?  Remember kids statistics can lie if you don’t know the reason(s) behind the numbers.

 

I’ll say it like this if you want higher taxes for other people but not yourself, fuck you.  If you want higher taxes for other people and don’t pay income tax at all, fuck yourself twice.

 

 

*FYI usually when I say “the other day” it means anywhere from a week to 3 years ago just in case anyone wanted to complain this was from a couple of months ago.  That and I started this rant then but didn’t get back to it till now.

 

 

 

I hate it here…

Oh My God Susan Feinberg Is Angry With You For Doing Something That Has Nothing To Do With Something Else, Run For The Hills!!!! Wait… Who The Hell Is Susan And Why Should I care?

 

 

“Rep. Paul Ryan (R-WI), a leading advocate of shrinking entitlement spending and the architect of the plan to privatize Medicare, spent Wednesday evening sipping $350 wine with two like-minded conservative economists at the swanky Capitol Hill eatery Bistro Bis.” 

 

Um, so someone went to dinner with some other people he knows.  This is news because it’s not like this doesn’t happen all the fucking time or anything so why is this news?

 

“Susan Feinberg, an associate business professor at Rutgers, was at Bistro Bis celebrating her birthday with her husband that night. When she saw the label on the bottle of Jayer-Gilles 2004 Echezeaux Grand Cru Ryan’s table had ordered, she quickly looked it up on the wine list and saw that it sold for an eye-popping $350, the most expensive wine in the house along with one other with the same pricetag.”

 

So some people who have money got something expensive at a restaurant?  Still why is this news?

 

“Feinberg, an economist by training, was even more appalled when the table ordered a second bottle. She quickly did the math and figured out that the $700 in wine the trio consumed over the course of 90 minutes amounted to more than the entire weekly income of a couple making minimum wage.

 

“We were just stunned,” said Feinberg, who e-mailed TPM about her encounter later the same evening. “I was an economist so I started doing the envelope calculations and quickly figured out that those two bottles of wine was more than two-income working family making minimum wage earned in a week.”

Oh my god rich people ordering something that poor people can’t afford!!!  Wait still why is that news?

 

“She was outraged that Ryan was consuming hundreds of dollars in wine while Congress was in the midst of intense debates over whether to cut seniors’ safety net, and she didn’t know whether Ryan or his companions was going to pay for the wine and whether the two men were lobbyists. She snapped a few shots with her cell phone to record the wine purchase.”

 

Oh, I know because someone has a political agenda that’s why.   My question was if Mrs.  Feinberg is so annoyed by rich people spending money at an expensive restaurant why the hell was she at the same place?  I bet even if she didn’t get that expensive bottle of wine her meal was a lot more than a person making minimum wage could afford for a night out.    OK leaving all that aside for the moment was the meal paid for by the taxpayers?  Wait, no it wasn’t so why should you care?  Now don’t give me the bullshit about since he is in Congress he gets paid by the taxpayers so it is the public’s money because it isn’t and while I do think they get paid too much once we give it to them it’s theirs to do with as they like.  Even pay too much for booze, something Paul Ryan even admitted was too expensive and since he didn’t know the price at the time would not have done had he known.  Yeah, like you’ve never done that.

 

Now back to Mrs. Feinberg.  You are an economics professor and angry about people who have money spending it during a recession, are you insane?  I might not be some obnoxious economics professor (full disclosure; I studied music before I switched to history and political science) but last time I checked in the type of economy we have that people spending money helps the economy rather than hurts it and in a recession/depression/whatever the fuck this is most people are not spending enough money to get us out of this shit so every little bit helps.  I can honestly say that you should never take an economics class (or probably any class) with Mrs. Feinberg.

 

I understand the lobbyist thing but let’s not get into a selective outrage debate since its par for the course in D.C. and it’s not like any side is less guilty. Plus they weren’t lobbyist and Mrs. Feinberg didn’t know who they were she just assumed they were lobbyists (as in she decided to get angry with people she knew nothing about in a situation she knew nothing about AKA she fucked up).  So what is the real issue here?  The real issue is that “she was outraged that Ryan was consuming hundreds of dollars in wine while Congress was in the midst of intense debates over whether to cut seniors’ safety net”.  Let me explain something to you.  A person, with money, buying expensive hooch (while silly) has nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing with the fact that the U.S. government is fucking broke and bleeding money every fucking second and some people in the government are trying to find way to spend less money the government doesn’t have.  Remember Mrs. Feinberg is an economics professor, you know the people who should know that if you don’t have any money and if you are in trillions of dollars of debt and have no way of paying it off you might want to look at your finances and start cutting your expenses.  Let me explain some things to you.  There is nothing, and I mean nothing in the Constitution that requires or ever pretends to suggest the government provide anyone with medical care or a retirement fund.  Hell half of the Constitution is telling the government what it can’t do.  So when the government spends too much money and is broke (like now)  we can spend what money we have on the things specifically mentioned in the Constitution (such as national defense) and start spending less money on things not mentioned (and depending on your viewpoint on the subject possibly unconstitutional) such as Social Security (the world’s only legal ponzi scheme) and Medicare/Medicaid or we can let the government dig an even deeper hole until even Greece and Zimbabwe are laughing at us.  Yes we can raise taxes but there is a thing you might have heard about called diminishing returns, the Laffer curve, and the fact that only 50% of the public is required to pay income tax.  As an economics professor Mrs. Feinberg should have heard all of this someplace.  She should also have heard of Keynesian economics something from this guy John Maynard Keynes all the liberals love but don’t understand what he really meant.  Keynes believed to get out of a depression you did need government intervention and deficit spending however the deficit spending was supposed to be short term and not continuous as how government currently works and during this period it was supposed to be augmented with tax cuts so people had more money to spend in order to jumpstart the economy.  Currently the people who use the Keynes model go for tax increases and continuous deficit spending so are therefore bastardizing Keynesian economics into something Keynes never intended and – while I have no proof of this since we were never friends and he’s dead – would reject as stupid and dangerous.  As an economics professor Mrs. Feinberg should know all of this.  Apparently she doesn’t, so I say again never take a class she teaches.

 

Let’s keep going with this evening out…

 

“After ending their meal and paying the check, Feinberg decided to give Ryan a piece of her mind. She approached the table and asked Ryan “how he could live with himself” sipping expensive wine while advocating for cuts to programs for seniors and the poor. Some verbal jousting between Feinberg and the other two men ensued. One of the two men said he had ordered the wine, was drinking it and paying for it. In hearing how much the wine cost, Ryan said only: “Is that how much it was?”

 

I hate it when people I don’t know feel the need to preach to me in public, or to put it another way if, I am having dinner/playing darts/drinking with friends/doing anything and I am not bothering you (as in talking to you or actually doing something to you) I hate it when people feel the need to get in my face and start lecturing me on anything.  I don’t do it to other people because it’s rude.  Hell, I have a friend and half of what we do is get into political debates (or well, we will debate anything but usually politics, comic books or anime, we are nerds)  and if someone butts in no matter what side they are for one of us will play devil’s and we will both go after them simply because you have annoyed us buy butting in so we will go after you till you leave us alone.  We don’t always do this, if the person butts in but has something relevant to say, isn’t an ass about it and has something to add to the conversation we will let them into the debate and new friends can be made.  However attacking people you don’t know (yes Mr. Ryan is a public figure but the other people were not and you don’t know him you know of him, there is a difference) and don’t know you, and yes in this situation it was an attack you are just being rude and annoying.  I don’t confront celebrities on the street to tell them I thought their last movie/album sucked and if I saw a politician on the street or in a restaurant I didn’t like I would let them eat their fucking dinner since if they don’t agree with me yelling at them only makes my side of the argument look bad.  Even if I liked the guy I probably wouldn’t even bother talking to them because maybe they just want to be left alone with some friends and relax.  Now if the guy sat down at the bar next to me I might talk to them but talking (not attacking) someone sitting next to you at a bar is common and how friends are made even with people you don’t always agree with.  Harassing people eating dinner or any meal for that matter is one of the rudest and most annoying things you can do right after lighting someone on fire above bringing a crying baby into a movie theater.

 

More bullshit from Mrs. Feinberg…

 

“It was my birthday, and I’d had half a bottle of great wine with dinner,” she wrote in an e-mail to TPM. “I wasn’t drunk, but I was certainly emboldened to speak my mind.”

 

OK, I will admit half a bottle of wine doesn’t get me drunk but I have a high tolerance so neither does a six pack, but after a six pack I’m never “emboldened to speak my mind” to random strangers because I don’t like their view on economic policy while they are having dinner.  If she wasn’t drunk she was at least buzzed enough to irritate people but even if she wasn’t drunk or the booze had no effect on her it still doesn’t excuse her behavior.  Hell if she was drunk that still doesn’t excuse her behavior.  I never try to excuse my behavior when I’m drunk by saying I was drunk.  I admit that while I might have been drunk I should not have done/said what I did and apologize for it.  Would I have done/said the same thing sober?  No, no I would not have done (fill in the blank) but being drunk does not excuse my behavior it just might help explain why I was an asshole but I was still an asshole and for that I would still have to make amends.  What she should have said was “I saw a politician I don’t agree with eating dinner so I started a fight because I’m a bitch and have poor self control”.  Did she? No, instead she got angry that they were annoyed that she was being a bitch and accused them of being “confrontational”.

 

Oh boo fucking hoo!  Really, are you serious?  You accost me anywhere I’m going to get “confrontational” with you.  You’re verbally attacking someone trying to eat dinner (something I would call “confrontational”) what the hell do you expect?  To me bothering people while they’re eating is right up there with telemarketing at midnight in the T. Yamamoto book of rude things to do to people.  You just don’t do it and if you absolutely have to do it you apologize about a million times while doing it.  If I am at a store buying a CD and you – someone I don’t know – decide to start telling me how much you hate that band and how much I should like that band and how there is something wrong with me for liking it I’m going to tell you to “fuck off” and if I am eating dinner and you walk up to my table I’m going to tell you to “fuck off”  and if you don’t because you are so important and what you believe is so important (Mrs. Feinberg) that you can’t just walk the hell away and leave people alone I’m going to get “confrontational” in the hope you will leave so I can get back to living my life without your annoying bullshit.  This is the kind of person that would walk up to a person and punch them in the face and then get angry that the person fought back.  Oh, right it’s OK when you do it I understand. Wait no, no I don’t fuck you.  If you start a fight don’t cry about it when people fight back.    I hate hypocrites but the worst kind are the ones that want you to feel sorry for them when they pull their bullshit.

 

Mrs. Feinberg works at Rutgers University as an economics professor.  Under no circumstances should you attend Rutgers if Mrs. Feinberg even remotely represents the professors there and you sure as hell shouldn’t go there for economics.

 

 

 

 

I hate it here…

 

 

Short Stories: I Rememeber.

The beauty of youth is that they are often un-jaded by the world not having been in it long enough to watch their hopes die with each passing day for a thousand years.  In their naiveté they have yet to learn the truth of the world.  Any side can claim them and they will march like lemmings to the slaughter for any cause have set their fancy.  The old know this and can use it for good or evil.  Cannon fodder for ideology they have yet to understand how to question.  They are destruction and innocence at the same time. The young mind can be dangerous in the wrong hands.  Well, not even the wrong hands, it can be a time bomb for anyone no matter how good their intentions may be.  When you have yet to learn how to question, often you don’t.  Cannon is all they know and in almost a brainwashed state they run towards the nirvana their masters have told them of.  It is fire, and fire cannot always be contained.  When you were an old man, remember the time you met the young maiden and she spoke to you of higher things.  When you watched her eyes and knew she had yet to truly understand the meaning behind her words, as we all have growing up.   We saw the things in life that struck cords within our hearts but she rallies to a banner, a cause!  Heroic poetry, the muse of the majestic but also of the low and vile things are in her words.  The things we run from in our age or use for our own ends.  The young are cannon fodder for our cause and the innocent we use as our mouths.  The people looking for power understand this, we love it we need it to gain our titles and riches.  I walked away.  I couldn’t even look myself in the eyes anymore.  I lead countless men to the slaughter under the banners I waved.  My hands can be cleaned of blood but my soul is caked in it.  Ground in so deep that bleach could never remove the stains on my heart and mind.  I broke and I walked away to make a hermit of myself as if I was some monk cloistering himself in his hilltop monastery to gain enlightenment.  Ha, I ran away!  I was dead inside and now some little girl is crying with those eyes I have seen a thousand times for help.  Men have died for centuries over a young girl’s cries and now knowing what I do I’m going to walk back into hell because of some pitiful creature who still believes?  Old men used by even older tricks.

I remember the stories of how my father died…

He sat looking up at the gun, the cold wind barely registering as it whipped through his tattered clothes.  “Here’s how I die.” he thought, “funny…”, it really almost was, kneeling down in the mud as the first of the winters snow came down.  Nothing else left to do but to be pushed into an open pit that would soon be the final resting place for his men.  “They wanted us to live like dogs, so killing us like them only made sense”.  Paraded in from of the helpless masses as a warning to others that might get unwanted ideas in their heads.  Rebellion against tyranny might sound like a glorious thing, but that was from the mouths of poets that either had long since forgotten the pain and despair of the struggle or those whom never saw it.  “Excuse me good sir” he said his speech in a manner of extreme politeness, more a mockery of the concept, dripping with the sarcastic flair only the jester could pull off at the gallows.  “I believe you forgot to take the safety off, I would hate to think you’d embarrass yourself at my execution sergeant, I don’t know how I could ever live with myself if you did”.  The blow from the sergeant was swift.  He could feel bones cracking as he hit the muddy ground.  It didn’t matter anymore, after the beatings they had received for the last month the pain didn’t mean anything, it was almost comical.  It was the beauty of a snuff film. You beat them as if only to prove their point of your own depravity.  “I should have died in battle not like this,” he thought, wishfully thinking “You already knew it wouldn’t end well, just a hope for some glory or whatnot.  Die on my feet, not an execution then dumped into a ditch, fucking poets never talk about this, but I guess it makes for bad stories when the hero dies in a ditch like a dog.  The only choice we have in our death is to take what comes… Well we could take it ourselves but that has less meaning then the courtroom I was in this morning… Hell if I wasn’t going to get a dignified death might as well have fun with it, I’ll give my kid a good story to tell his friends when he grows up about his bastard of a father”, as if the child would ever know.  “Excuse me sir but could you make this quick?  See I have a date tonight and if I’m late I still get charged for the full hour”.  “Prisoner 3244, do not make this harder for yourself then it is already going to be now shut the fuck up!” yelled the lieutenant as the sergeant rained more blows onto the condemned.  Almost in a daze he thought to himself about his fate, they were supposed to be warriors… No bagpipes, no young Celtic woman signing laments to her fallen love. “Fucking poets…”  The Sergeant had finally taken the safety off, he noticed.  It was time to go, “Well if there wasn’t going to be a woman’s lament at my funeral I guess I’ll just sing something myself” he thought, lifting his head up he began to shout the words to a dirty song from his youth at least it was appropriate for the situation, “You live your life like an annoying bastard might as well die as one”.  The world went red as a single round passed through the back of his skull.  A new hill of skulls for a new generation….

I remember my youth…

I remember long ago when I woke up in that trench on my 19th birthday.  This was not new for me at the time as I had done it most mornings for the past year with the occasional foxhole and cave thrown in for a nice change of scenery.  As usual I attempted to change into clean socks -clean socks being ones I might not have worn for a day or two – and questioned myself on why I was there.  I knew the answer, I just always hoped I had a better one one day but I never did.  The truth was while I was not the most ideological man in the world but I remember my surrogate father and his war stories and some things just kicked the wrong way so on day he died I picked up a gun and marched out.  I remember him to this day, he’d been a Master Sergeant in the army years before and still looked the part except his eyes had more kindness in them after having to raise a child and being forced to let go of the pain of his fallen comrades. He understood why he was left behind that day; someone had to take care of the families to be evacuated to safety especially the young pregnant bride of the lieutenant. What is more important the mission the generals send you on or the mission your friend gives you to protect his wife?  The kind of question each man can only answer for himself.   He had become the uncle of so many poor children from fathers lost, Master Sergeant Williams became Uncle Daniel the stern but kind old man for whom every word spoken was law.   The children would sit in rapt attention almost as if in formation as he would regal them of stories and knowledge of the past.  On his death bed he regretted the stories he told them of their parents war and history, it was his job to protect them, but the stories had instilled pride in their hearts over their fathers dreams and sacrifices, and wanting to live up to their fathers names they marched off to die when the rebellion started anew. He should have won, his men, his generation should of won, but they didn’t and left the next their sorrow.  That is the curse of the old warrior.  That is the curse of the bard.  For he can only sing of the young men fallen, thinking that all the good men are dead, shot through with arrows in the fields to give us even a glimmer of hope that good men will once again be. The truth is that a man can only die in vain if we care not for his sacrifice, but are many not willing to forget our past so that it becomes second nature to curse our heroes and sympathize with our enemy?  We killed ourselves for…  Um… Fuck if we know.

Like so many others I was not willing to forget.  Lucky for me that kick landed me in a trench outside Farmington eating rats and waiting for the inevitable shelling that would most likely occur at the exact moment I was trying to figure out what plant wasn’t a good idea to use as toilet paper.  I love my life… I think.  In reality at this point I’m just hoping I don’t die with a handful of poison ivy while sitting on the hole we call a latrine.

To say the least I was the worst soldier in the worst army on the planet.  The simple fact I’m alive might make that statement slightly awkward, but really, who is going to argue with me?  I might be a bad soldier but I’m still alive, I like to tell myself I have no idea why I’m still here but I think I know why, I just like to tell myself I don’t.  Makes it all sound better.  Well, in my head it does, sane people probably think something is wrong with me and they might be right but I don’t know any sane people so what do I really know about what they are thinking?

I was a soldier in a war we lost.  We were farmers and tradesmen fighting for an ill-defined ideal of freedom against our own corrupt state.  All of us pawns and we knew it but we hoped we where pawns on the side of justice in a war that lasted several lifetimes and several more if you count the average life of a soldier.  As the war dragged on, others died and I lived, I was promoted again and again but not so high that I wasn’t still a pawn.  In war the ability to survive without running away in cowardice has always been a virtue and I imagine it always will be but in the end we lost and lucky for me I was not so high that I wasn’t granted a pardon so at 25 I went back to my little town and my trade to grow older in my little apartment alone until the day she walked into my little shop on the corner of Maple avenue and who gives a shit.

Natasha was young it looked like she was twenty at most, petite, auburn hair with the look on her face of the cute ignorance of a child with a purpose.  The look that has gotten men killed for centuries and she walked into my shop to get me killed.  No, that wasn’t her intention; she wanted to start the war anew, for the fourth time because someone had filled her head with the same dreams our fathers had filled ours but she was going to get me killed.  I had known her father years before and while I had walked away to nothing but a little shop he had gone home to his family and raised his young daughter up with the idea of making his dreams a reality.  I should have thrown her out, I shouldn’t have listened but I was undone by those eyes and her promises of glory that reminded me of my youth so long ago and I marched back into my death.  Long ago I had walked away so why now was I running back?  Back to the battlefield and glories drenched in young men’s blood.  Maybe my hermitage was only my own personal purgatory while I waited to be called back as I swore I never wanted to be or would.  Maybe I’m just a sucker for the lamentations of children and other poetic lies.  Maybe I just gave up and wanted to die yet still be able to claim some honor from it.  It doesn’t matter now I picked up my banner and marched back out into the fray, back into hell itself.

I remember my death…

Five years later.  Five years after listening to the tearful pleas of a friend’s child I was kneeling in the mud in front of an open pit my jaw broken and watching the little droplets of blood falling from my face and forming a tiny pool in the dirt.  I remember pushing her out of the back as the house we were in was stormed.  I remember the trenches and death and the long hungry nights.  I remember asking myself why I was still there and why I just couldn’t let the pride of my youth go and walk away.  I remember how it felt to be alive and all the lies of the poets.  I tried to look at the sky with the one eye still not shut from trauma and caked blood but it was too painful to lift my head.  I remember smelling the oil from the gun pressed against the back of my head and trying to stutter out some empty insults to the executioners and I remember nothing else.  Fucking poets…

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