and then...

There was a lot of cheering on the plane as we took off.

I suppose this is the part where the narrator says "and they lived happily ever after."

I'm not sure if I buy that, though.

The Uniform Fetish

My life for the past six months in a thousand words or less.

I was told by a Tech Sergeant from the new rotation that replaced me, to wear my uniform when i'm flying on one of the connecting flights in the continental US on the way home.  Basically, how the flying logistics for redeploying back home works is that you hop on a rotator flight, which is basically a chartered flight that shuttles US military personnel from a deployed location back to a stateside airport.  After that, there's usually a 24 hour layover, and then you catch a connecting civilian airline flight to go back home.  On those connecting flights, you don't have to wear a uniform.  You can wear whatever you feel like, because once you're back stateside, it's almost like you're a real person again.

The reason why I was told to wear my uniform on the connecting flights to go home is because nine times out of ten, the flight attendant will stop you at the gate and ask if you're coming back home from a deployment.  If you are, she'll usually get all misty eyed and bump you up to first class, which means warm hand towels, free drinks, better food, and from what my friend robyn told me, real fruit served on real plates, all while thanking you profusely for your service.

Now this isn't a bad thing, per se, but I'm uncomfortable with doing this because I think it's lame and I hate patriotic/nationalistic bullshit.  Michael Moore, in his Digby blog, writes about the fetishization of the military in american culture (well it was more of a quip, really), and how you can't even move a military member's coat without thanking him for his service.  And it's kind of true.  When I was drinking at a dive bar outside of Keesler AFB during tech school, there were people who would buy me and my friends drinks while thanking us for our service (and usually regale us with stories that start with "I would've joined the military BUT...") as if the only thing you have to do to be an "American Hero" is to sign your name on an enlistment contract and get a bad haircut.  When I went to get my predeployment dental screening from my dentist, he thanked me no less than three times for "my service" and sent me off with a clean bill of dental health, a firm handshake, and a salute.

Okay, I was lying about the whole saluting thing.  He didn't actually do that.

Don't get me wrong, i'm not saying that the military and everything they do is worthless, and I'm not denigrating the bravery of men and women in the blah blah blah.  I'm also not slamming these people for being thankful for whatever it is they think i'm doing, but the underlying ideology behind their responses is what bothers me:  Patriotism defined as nationalism personified in the military service member (and also free markets and corporations, but that's for another discussion).  Where a cruise missile is more patriotic than a teachers' union.  Where policy discussions on deficits and debt focuses almost exclusively on unrelated issues like abortion, or cutting medicare (damn those greedy old people!) but taking a look at defense spending?  Oh no no no.  that's unpatriotic.  Where someone can hijack a political discussion by saying so and so served in (insert military campaign here).  

Person A:  John McCain was a Navy pilot who got shot down over Vietnam!  He was a POW!
Person B:  Yeah, well he's also an idiot.  So I'm not voting for him.

But, you know, I am as god made me.   and I'd much rather spend a 10 hour flight back to Hawaii in first class, eating fresh fruit off a real plate than crammed in coach eating stale sandwiches and munching on in-flight peanuts.  Is there such a thing as sitting in first class cynically?

In real terms, it probably doesn't matter either way, but man.  fresh fruit off a real plate in an airplane with a warm towel? 

that would be pretty damn awesome.

before I forget...

Thanks to all the people that sent me a frillion gazillion bags of li hing mui.  From li hing mui mango, red li hing mui, crack seed, li hing mui ginger, li hing mui lemon peel, li hing mui powder itself, I mean, jesus christ, it was an orgy of li hing mui out here in the desert, and I don't even like li hing mui (except for li hing mui gummies, those are awesome).

but it's the thought that counts.  So I appreciate it.

Oh, and special thanks to robyn, because she sent me one of those blue japanese scrubby washcloths, which was a godsend.  because the haole showers just weren't cutting it.  and nail clippers, because for whatever reason, the BX tent here NEVER has fricking nail clippers.  And the books with the talking bears.  No, no, not Berenstain Bears.  the Golden Compass series.

It was awesome.

On the Ossassination of Osama Bin Laden

I actually don't really have a lot to say about this topic because I don't have strong feelings towards it either way, but I guess I should write something about it for all two of you readers out there in internet-land.  I mean, I think it would've been better if he was captured alive and taken back to stand trial (preferably in a federal court, not "disappeared" into Guantanamo Bay), but if he was shooting back and he got killed, then in the words of Ivan Drago in the movie Rocky II...

Bin Laden was a radical extremist with a dream to establish a fundamentalist Muslim caliphate in Middle East, and conducted terror attacks on local Arab governments ruled by despots (like Egypt) until his cabal came to the conclusion that in order to topple the corrupt governments of the Arab world and form a pan-Muslim empire, they had to take down the imperial power that was propping up these dictatorships, namely the US.  And to that end, he flew planes into buildings, drove boats into US Navy ships, and plotted and conducted other terrorist acts.

So the fact that he actually is dead now doesn't exactly fill me with grief and i'm definitely not going to get starry-eyed and wax eloquent on how "violence is not the answer," and "make love, not war" or whatever.  But at the same time, the amount of patriotic chest beating that's happening and the throngs of crowds cheering like the US just won the World Cup over the death of a man bothers me.  I think at this time, we as a nation should be reflecting on what impact US foreign policy has on people in the Middle East, and how these terror movements are a response to the US supporting oppressive dictatorships and US imperialism (cultural, economic, or otherwise) and how we can engage and address the Muslim world in a thoughtful, productive way.

Because honestly, it doesn't make sense to declare war on a tactic.

That being said, I think people stateside are reacting a lot more strongly to the news than people out here (at least on this base).  While there are college kids outside of the White House chanting "USA!  USA!" and batting around beach balls, this morning, in the chow hall, people were largely ignoring the television sets blaring "Osama Bin Laden is Dead!!!" and just eating their breakfast.

My conversation with my roomate about this topic kind of went like this:

Me:  "Hey, man.  Did you hear that Osama Bin Laden is dead?"
Him (taking off headphones, because he was watching Battlestar Galactica on his laptop):  "Huh?"
Me:  "Osama Bin Laden is dead."
Him:  "Oh.  really?"
Me:  "Yeah.  It's all over the news."
Him:  "How'd we get him?  Drone strike?"
Me:  "No.  I think a SEAL team went in and whacked him."
Him:  "Oh.  well.  that's cool."
Me:  "yeah."
Him:  "Yeah."

*short pause

Him:  "Does that mean everyone gets to go home now?" *snicker
Me:  "haha."

*Roomate then puts his headphones back on and watches more Battlestar Galactica.

Eschaton

November '10:  I wanna go home.

December '10:  I wanna go home.

January '11:  I wanna go home.

February '11:  Iraq is really cold.  And I wanna go home.

March '11:  I wanna go home.

April '11:  I wanna go home.

May '11:  ...Now what?

Slang and Nomenclature

Hurt Feelings Report:  The appropriate form to use when dealing with butthurt individuals

butthurt; adj, \ˈbət-ˈhərt\
1.  To be in an inappropriately indignant state over a perceived personal insult or over something trivial and petty.

After being called out on his lies, Timmy was in an egregious state of butthurt.

Down the rabbit hole.

Not to be confused with the 80s band.

So some army dude out at the Patriot missile site called up Network Management and was like "Yo, man.  there's some beepin' comin' from the thang thang out there by the tower with all the wires from a black box.  Two air force guys came out earlier and replaced something in the thang thang and it's still beepin'."

The NETMAN guy, SrA Johnson (named changed to protect the person's identity), bewildered, was like "what's a thang thang?"  Eventually he figured out that it was the UPS that was beeping.  An UPS is basically a battery backup for electronic equipment and when the batteries run low it usually emits high pitched beeping that drives everyone in the building crazy.

Johnson tells the army guy to call our CFP (the equivalent to a helpdesk), and the CFP was like "why did you tell him to call us?  This is a CE issue."  So CFP just creates the ticket and sends it to NETMAN to deal with it.  Johnson gets the work ticket and transfers it to my shop with no annotation.  So when I get it i'm like "what the hell?"  so I annotated it by typing in under "work info", "this is not a CST issue.  this isn't even a comm issue.  have the user call CE." and I transferred it back to NETMAN.

Johnson got the ticket, thought about it, and then transferred it straight back to me with no annotations.  So I transferred it back to him with a note that said "see last update."  A few minutes later, the ticket shows up AGAIN from Johnson with no annotation. Irate, I called up NETMAN.

"Johnson."
"Sir?"
"What the fuck."
"uh..."
"UPS batteries running low is NOT a comm issue.  It's a CE issue.  Have the user call CE and put in a ticket."
"Got it."
"Never send this ticket back to me again."
"Yes sir."

and then I hung up.  It was pretty close to awesome.  Or at the very least, amusing.  To me, anyway.