The Land of the Free.

Of course this applies to nations as well, but the irony is probably lost on most people.

Pins

Why do I think these pins were designed by women?

I support the troops, etc. etc.RANT!!

(click to enlarge the picture)

Preface to rant..I was a soldier for 20 years. I served my country with honour and with respect.
Rant mode on....I keep watching the news, and see people who say "I support the troops but I don't support the mission". Like all sloganeering, this one carries a seed of truth which has grown out of proportion, and resulted in a complete reversal of reality.

Every soldier is there because he volunteered to serve his country. He is acutely aware that unlike some yokel who only votes once in a while, he is putting his "vote" out there every single day since his enlistment! More than any other person in the nation, he IS the government, he IS THE MISSION.

The nation that got invaded swore that there would be one dead soldier every day there was a foreign presence on his soil. They kept their promise. You gonna tell me that an army of Iranians invading New Jersey would not face the same, or greater? I thought so! And the Taliban over in Afganistan are proving to be a tougher nut to crack than we thought due to this somehow overlooked opium mafia which is supporting it!

And if you look at the statistics, you will likely find that because the boys in theatre are not allowed to drink, drive, or go boating, motorcycling, surfing, or any of a thousand other things which attract young, horny boys with active cajones that there are fewer casualties at the end of the year than there would be if they stayed in garrison! I feel for every mother that weeps for a wounded or dead son, BUT you can't keep these fellas down, they ain't momma's boys! They gonna raise hell.

Promotion possibilities are much more likely in theatre than back home pounding a parade square. And no, it is not because of casualties, (remember, there are fewer than when they are home!) but because they get a chance to show their stuff, let their supervisors see how good they are, and to show themselves just how darned good their training has made them! Personal development has its own price.

Rant mode off.

Ahhh, I feel better now. I just had to get this off my chest. I know, its hard to imagine that a soldier actually WANTS to do his job, and will happily do it for the real and perceived rewards. Men I know that learned welding, teaching, mechanics, computer technology, and believe it or not, film making from the military are always prepared to give back. The "Mission" as perceived by civilians is so vague, unfocused, and spun with political bias as to be nothing more than a straw man.
(I hope I am using that phrase right...grin! I hate using buzz words wrongly!)

email me at stag@southtower.on.ca if you disagree, or feel free to comment. I only delete spam comments! Or visit my blog yusefjournal.blogspot.com I just posted a bunch of pictures from my trip to Ypres which put things into perspective for me.

Men and women

The Difference Between Men and Women
Let's say a guy named Fred is attracted to a woman named Martha. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Martha, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"
And then, there is silence in the car.
To Martha, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Fred is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Martha is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily towards, I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Fred is thinking: ...so that means it was...let's see...February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means...lemme check the odometer...Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.
And Martha is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed - even before I sensed it - that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Fred is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.
And Martha is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Fred is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty...scumballs.
And Martha is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.
And Fred is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their...
"Fred," Martha says aloud.
"What?" says Fred, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have...oh dear, I feel so..."(She breaks down, sobbing.)
"What?" says Fred.
"I'm such a fool," Martha sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Fred.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Martha says.
"No!" says Fred, glad to finally know the correct answer.
"It's just that...it's that I...I need some time," Martha says. (There is a 15-second pause while Fred, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)
"Yes," he says. (Martha, deeply moved, touches his hand.)
"Oh, Fred, do you really feel that way?" she says.
"What way?" says Fred.
"That way about time," says Martha.
"Oh," says Fred. "Yes." (Martha turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
"Thank you, Fred," she says.
"Thank you," says Fred.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Fred gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a college basketball game between two South Dakota junior colleges that he has never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.
The next day Martha will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification.
They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it either.
Meanwhile, Fred, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Martha's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: "Norm, did Martha ever own a horse?"
And that's the difference between men and women.
I got this sent to me in an email. Ain't it the truth?

Guy's perfect gift.

Pins

Why do I always go out with girls that wear these pins?