Oh, And Poetry Too

Once upon a time it was a noble thing to be both warrior and poet… not so much anymore. I’m not that noble anyway. I’ve children in harm’s way and it tends to stress me out, and of course my wife is keen to instruct me, “See? You go volunteering for whatever, leave your family behind, and you JERK, it’s hard to be here alone.” Perhaps I do understand a little better how she felt while I was gone.

It is somehow more frightening to me, being here, safe – while my daughters serve now that I’m an old fart. I suppose serving in the military is sort of the family business for us. Although I wanted my daughters to be patriots, I had in mind them saying to a husband, “come back with your shield, or on it.” Instead, I had a daughter instruct me, “Poppy, why would you think that a woman’s life is somehow intrinsically more valuable than a man’s? Should we not be willing to give what any other citizen should be willing to give?” I don’t need to hear that from a little girl. Ok, so maybe I did. She’s a pretty tough kid. This is a poem she kind of liked – it’s dedicated to my two Amazons:

What Some Would Call Murder in Nicaragua,
A Contrarian View

“Guns” and I made insertion
Just off the coast
Where that smell,
That smell leaps full
Blown at the back of your throat —
You can taste it.

People think that coastal
Scent signals life, but it’s
Small things (microbes, seaweed, even
Crustaceans) dying and rotting
On the sand —
That’s what you smell,
That’s what you taste,
Death on the beach.

Seventy-two hours into our jungle
Creep, Billy “Guns", my spotter,
Tapped my leg and signed
“No target.” Mr. Esteban Morales
Wouldn’t die that day. A short-lived
Sigh of relief escaped my lips. Guns
Tapped my leg and signed
That we had a TOOP —

Target of Opportunity:
Acronym to strip the humanity
From a sanctioned target that’s
Not in the operations plan (Op Plan) —

One Frederico Manuel Esposito
Appeared from beneath the jungle canopy,
And the Op Plan changed that fast.

With the musty molder of vegetative carpet
In our noses, we belly crawled to a high
Vantage point. I glassed the clot of people
Being harangued by Mr. Esposito,
My new TOOP, target, or tango.
Guns ranged the target. Whispered,
“Seven-two-zero.”

715 meters away, an old man
Appeared in the lower left quadrant
Of my scope. Standing there,
About five meters from the target,
The old man was quiet,
Sallow skinned,
Sunken cheeked,
A skull above those —
Those coat-hanger arms
Cradling that little boy.
Both their vacant stares
Staring through the cross
Hairs on the wrong end of my scope.

Watching Frederico stride toward me,
He silently screamed and slapped
The old man, who stumbled,
Strained to keep the cradle about the boy
As the imagined snap of flesh on flesh
Made its way to my ears.

I’ve been taught to aim for center body mass,
To put a round through the heart.
Instead, after a final range check,
I gifted Frederico with a new asshole,
A puckered little hole between his eyes
That ripped out the back of his smirking face.

I wondered if the old man
Heard the supersonic pop of the round
As it rifled by his head
To bloom the red
Of death
Behind him.

I did see the old man’s eyebrows arch,
I saw the fire come to his eyes
As he watched Frederico slump to the ground.

A toothy grin broke the old man’s face
At the karmic joke that visited
Our one-time trainee, Frederico.

I smiled with him —
It felt good
To feel right
About a killing.

Some Senators Clone Around

Regardless of how one feels about cloning and stem cell research, certainly expecting our congressmen to be reasonably honest isn't too much to ask... is it? According to Wesley J. Smith, Senators Hatch, Feinstein, Specter, Kennedy, and Harkin have introduced a new bill called "Human Cloning Ban and Stem Cell Research Protection Act of 2007." On its face it appears to do exactly what the conservative Christian mainstream very much wants, but it in fact does precisely the opposite. Mr. Smith put it this way,

Is it any wonder that the American people have such little respect for the legislative process? The bill purports to outlaw human cloning. Instead, it would explicitly legalize human somatic cell nuclear transfer--which is the actual act of cloning, a.k.a., asexual reproduction. So how do the senators justify calling their cloning legalization bill a cloning "ban?" Why, through the tried and true method, of course: They simply redefine the term cloning into a scientifically inaccurate political term.

Here is how "human cloning" is defined in S. 812:

The term `human cloning' means implanting or attempting to implant the product of nuclear transplantation into a uterus or the functional equivalent of a uterus.

But implantation is no more an act of cloning th[a]n is the implanting of an embryo created via IVF an act of fertilization. This bill is beyond disingenuous: It is dishonest.

Though Mr. Smith's discussion on his blog is worth the read, his article at The Daily Standard puts all the information together for a very good read. It might be worth finding out what is being considered, and to make your political will known.

Cheers!

Back in School

I'm starting my final class in a master's program, so I've a few things to keep me pretty busy apart from my job. I'll do my best to update faithfully once a week -- beyond that? Possible, but the master's thesis comes first.

Alternative Lifestyles, Sheilas, and Native Americans

Homosexuals, girls, and Indians… believe it or not, "sexual orientation" wasn't a phrase dreamt up by a homosexual, and it was not women or Native Americans that suddenly found Sheila and Indian offensive. This "enshrining of slogans" to bolster a belief in the absurd is a product of white liberals (see Thomas Sowell's Black Rednecks and White Liberals). As a friend reminded me, I don't really have much of a readership yet (I'm optimistic), but I would still encourage you to check out the documentary mentioned next.

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Most of the people I know eschew political correctness… it winds up being the butt of jokes, not taken seriously by many – while away from work. I've listened to professional politicos make fun of the very thing they kowtow to in public. Dr. Helen provided a great link to a new documentary @ Indoctrinate U and the trailer actually made me want to see a documentary! I avoided Moore's cheap trash precisely because it came across that way – as cheap trash; however, a moonbat buddy bought it, we watched it, and yes, it was cheap trash.

It seems doc Helen believes only the exalted liberal left deserves freedom of speech, i.e., those who "toe the line of liberal dogma" (tongue in cheek sarcasm, I'm sure J)! On the other hand, evaluating just how poisonous political correctness can be is worth the effort, if for no other reason than pretending one believes in a free market place of ideas.

Philip Atkinson rightly defines political correctness with the words "communal tyranny" and proceeds to provide a definition, description, history and impact of this noxious phenomenon. Though Atkinson seems a little keen on himself sometimes, his commentary on Political Correctness is worth the read… just to get little gems like this:

Clear Inspiration for Political Correctness

The declared rational of this tyranny is to prevent people being offended; to compel everyone to avoid using words or behaviour that may upset homosexuals, women, non-whites, the crippled, the mentally impaired, the fat or the ugly. This reveals not only its absurdity but its inspiration. The set of values that are detested are those held by the previous generation (those who fought the Second World War), which is why the terms niggers, coons, dagos, wogs, poofs, spastics and sheilas, have become heresy, for, in an act of infantile rebellion, their subject have become revered by the new generation. Political Correctness is merely the resentment of spoilt children directed against their parent's values.

Back and Grumpy

I shut down my old computer and spent the next several days setting up my new computer. Though I do like the new speed and some of the new functions, changing user interfaces for the sake of looking "new and improved" just frustrates me – I'm still served perfectly well by menus and keyboard shortcuts. Mostly, it just irritates me because there is a new learning curve for a program with which I was once perfectly comfortable. It wastes my time for very little return. Thank you Microsoft.

On the other hand, as mentioned earlier, there are some nifty new functions! I'm typing this in Word and will simply FIND the publish button and "poof!" the post is gone to the blog. Nifty, cool, keen, far-out, and yes, I did say the OLD bald fat man started a blog J

Whatever Happened to Christopher Robin?

I tend to run through news spots and blogs as they catch my eye, and as is happening more and more often, it is the unusual or offbeat. Like many news junkies (I’m guessing), I have a few favorites I like to visit. For example, for those of you who read "Playboy," the Forum section had an eye catcher — "Iraqi Success Story!" Not one I’d expect from a liberal rag, so I jumped in for the read and discovered it was one of those pretentious little titles that has a follow on subtitle, a sort of colon(oscopy) that let’s one gander a little further into the liberal left... The whole title

"Iraqi Success Story: A Positive Development in the Middle East that the Bush Administration Wants No Part of "

As scintillating as the article was, it is also true I’ve stopped buying Playboy for the articles. On the other hand, The Weekly Standard has a section I really like. It’s called the The Scrapbook, and this week there was a tidbit on Pooh! Years ago, Pooh and Crew was a nightly favorite of my youngest daughter, so this particular tidbit was a bit depressing:

Disney is releasing a new animated Winnie the Pooh series later this year, My Friends Tigger & Pooh, which the columnist James Lileks notes at his website (www.lileks.com/bleats) will "introduce a six-year-old girl in Christopher [Robin]'s stead. I'm sure she's spunky and adventurous and kind and empowered," writes Lileks, "and I'm just as sure my daughter will find her boring, because kids can smell pedantic condescending twaddle nine miles off. . . . Here's the part that makes me truly sad: The little girl wears a bike helmet. Because you could fall down in the 100 Acre Woods and hurt yourself.

"I swear, they're going to put airbags on Barbie's Pegasus next, and require thick corks on the point of all unicorn horns."

Wikipedia corrects the notion that the six year old Darby “replaces” Christopher Robin — after all, he does show up periodically. I’m kind of wondering if good old Chris winds up with a bucket on his head.

Hello World!

How do you start up a blog? I’ve read several, and it seems you just jump in and get your feet wet. In keeping with my eccentricities, I’ve purchased a few books, read through them, and when confronted with so many different options — well, I sat on my apathy procrastinating as usual. The self-talk was amusing: “I’m in a graduate program” “I’m too busy” “I don’t have anything momentous to blog about” — whine, whine, whine, ad nauseam.

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I seem to collect useless degrees — sort of an education junkie. One of them happens to be a computer programming degree, and for the geeks and/or nerds out there, that should explain the title of this post. For the rest, the first program a programmer learns is the ubiquitous “Hello World” program. So, hello world — and the old baldheaded fat man starts a blog.