A Healthy Alternative to Work

Ironically, the best place to exploit workers is the largest communist country on the planet. Weird, huh?

"You must every day look upon the power of your city and become her lovers, and when you have understood her greatness consider that the men who achieved it were brave and honorable and knew what was necessary when the time came for action. If they ever failed in some attempt, they were determined that, at least, their city should not be deprived of their courage and gave her the most beautiful of all offerings. For they gave their lives for the common good and thereby won for themselves the praise that never grows old and the most distinguished of all graves, not those in which they lie, but where their glory remains in eternal memory, always there at the right time to inspire speech and action. For the whole world is the burial place for famous men; not only does the epitaph inscribed on monuments in their native country commemorate them, but in lands not their own the unwritten memory, more of their spirit even than of what they have done, lives on within each person. Now it is for you to emulate them; knowing that happiness requires freedom and freedom requires courage, do not shrink from the dangers of war."

-- Pericles, First Citizen and General of Athens, 431 B.C.
Taken from Thucydides, "The History of the
Peloponnesian War." (2.43.1-4)

Around 9 p.m. last night, my cell phone decided to let me know that Staff Sgt. Riley had called, wondering if I wanted to go to Phoenix Hill, a rock and roll club in Louisville. The message, which he'd left at about 3, said he was leaving at 9. I called back immediately, hoping to avoid watching movies with dudes in the barracks.

Fortunately, he hadn't gotten too far off. Riley (Sean) and his buddy Les came and picked me up. By the time we got to Phoenix Hill, it was around 11.

I started off heavy... two Jack and Cokes. The band, Powertrip, whose logo is a fist with an extended middle finger, was playing covers of popular hard rock songs.

Before I get too far into this story, let me say this: Phoenix Hill has got to be the coolest bar I've been to in... at least three years. They've got three stage areas, hardwood panelling everywhere... it's impossible to do justice to in a quick description.

At one point, the bassist to Powertrip started playing "So Far Away From Me" by Dire Straits. I swear I was the only one in the bar who knew what he was doing. Even the band's lead singer was stumped... he said, "Oh, now we have some Dire Straits shit to deal with... You're so far.... fuck, I don't know the words to this song!"

Well. Unfortunately, they didn't play the song, but I bought a Budweiser and tracked the bassist, whose name is Dave, down during their next set break.

"This is for Dire Straits, man," I said, and gave him the Budweiser.

"Hey, thanks, dude," he said.

Later on, they played some AC/DC, including "Highway to Hell." According to eyewitness reports, I went "ape-shit."

Man, I had a blast. We drank, sang, screamed, laughed, drank...

A little too much, actually. I woke up on a couch in someone's house this morning, wondering how in the hell I'd gotten there, and also wondering where my clothes had gotten to. Apparently, during the wee hours of the morning, I'd decided I needed to use the bathroom, and that the only way to properly do it was half-naked.

Folks, waking up on a strange couch wearing only your boxer shorts is a frightening experience.

As it turned out, we were at Les' place, so, "no harm, no foul." Except for the fact that apparently, during my unclothed trip to the bathroom, I wandered into the room where Les and his girlfriend were sleeping. Why I decided to finish my trip on the couch, I have no idea.

All in all, I had a great time. I found my clothes, watch and dog tags, and made it home alive. What else can you ask of a Friday night?

You may have seen his name pop up on the sly in some of the comments in this blog, but now, my brother both by blood and fraternity, [url=http://brorizzo.tblog.com]BroRizzo[/url] has officially joined the fray. If you think I'm polemical, wait till you catch wind of what this guy's bound to say. He's a great dude, he lives in the projects with his roommate (a large Austrian named Tommy), and is the proud owner of an obese hamster. Check him out... he hasn't gotten a chance to get a lot up yet, but he'll certainly be someone to watch. Congrats, [url=http://brorizzo.tblog.com]brother[/url] , on entering the world of Blogging.

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If you work in the editorial department of newspapers for any amount of time, you'll eventually develop an almost fanatical attention to detail when it comes to capitalization, spelling, grammar and style. I catch myself subconsciously copy-editing other people's writing, and other stuff that just shouldn't be copy-edited, i.e. road signs, memos, emails, blogs, Top Ramen instructions....

I suppose part of it comes from school. Depending on where you go, journalism professors will take 25 to 50 points off your score for a misspelled name or error in fact.

The rest of it comes from getting the finished, printed paper back and finding egregious errors in it. I think this factor has contributed greatly to the increasing number of grey hairs on my head.

Anyhow, on Wednesdays, we [url=http://www.turret.com]Turret[/url] staffers head down to Elizabethtown's News Enterprise offices and edit the pages for the next day's release. I like the work, which is weird, because I'd always tried hard to avoid jobs that concentrated primarily on copy and layout editing. But Wednesdays, the rest of the staff and I sit down around a big table in the Composition Room and just mark pages up to our heart's content (or failure).

Journalism is a great business. I can't see myself doing anything else.

Some folks have started a Joint Blog (snicker) called "THE WRATH." It is an idea pioneered by [url=http://cmaze.tblog.com]cmaze[/url] during tBLOG's period of Extreme Sketchiness, so I joined in. [url=http://cmaze.blogspot.com/]Check it out.[/url]

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No photos of the car I'm looking at, mind you, which is a 1975 Chevy Malibu Classic, with a big-block Buick 455 motor. More on that subject as it develops.

I do, however, have photos of the baseball game. Here they are.

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I've never been an avid sports fan, but regardless, I'm slated to move into the Inside the Turret sports editor's seat once he leaves in July. We'll see how that goes.

I went to cover a high school baseball game Friday night. When I got to the field, it was just starting to get into evening, when the sunlight turns yellow and the shadows get long. The Fort Knox Eagles were out on the diamond, practicing fielding grounders and throwing to first base. A detail of about four players had a hose and were watering down the dirt, while some aging officials chalked the baselines.

The game started with the national anthem. I had my Nikon D1-H, with a 70-300mm zoom, and once the players started making their appearances in the batting box, the lighting was perfect. I'll have to toss a couple of the pictures up on photobucket.

As I said, I've never been an avid sports fan, and to me, watching baseball on TV is about as much fun as listening to the audiobook version of Advanced Accounting Procedures for Dummies. But watching this high school game, with the sparse crowd alternately munching on boiled hot dogs and shouting encouragement to their brother, son, or boyfriend, was somehow a genuine experience of Americana. It was like watching the invention of the apple pie or something.

Plus, the fact that people have families here, and that Fort Knox is more like a community than the wonderful group of idiots who found themselves at Camp Red Cloud, gave me a feeling of being home. I'm not sure how else to describe it. I've never been to Kentucky prior to coming here, but I guess there's something common to American small towns that we who've lived in them can tap into when we're in one.

Wow. I could have saved myself the trouble of writing this and just listened to some John Cougar Mellencamp. Oh well.

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Since I have all kinds of tBUCKs and nothing to spend them on, because I don't really like the java add-ins for sale at the tSTORE, I decided to run for the Featured Blogs listing. If you're a regular reader, stop by and vote for old Gonzo. There's something about saving Florida manatees in the description, but please ignore that. I don't actually have any wildlife preservation plans, and if I did, it would be for a creature more attractive than the manatee. It's all part of my experiment to see if making absolutely meaningless claims during a campaign is an effective way of getting elected.

Meanwhile, I'm surprised that no one's responded to the New York Times article (below, Sarin? What Sarin?). I think one of the best phrases in the article is:

The first "no" is no stockpiles of W.M.D., used to justify
the war, were found. With the qualifier "so far" left out,
the absence of evidence is taken to be evidence of absence.
In weeks or years to come - when the pendulum has swung,
and it becomes newsworthy to show how cut-and-runners in
2004 were mistaken - logic suggests we will see a rash of
articles and blockbuster books to that end.

Great point. Iraq is a rather large place, and the fact that we haven't found weapons of mass destruction yet doesn't mean they aren't there, as some troops found out recently. I'm glad the two treated for nerve gas contamination survived -- that's some nasty stuff.

Folks seem to be brushing this off as a "relic from the '80s," or as not indicative of W.M.D. stockpiles. The fact is, there now are confirmed chemical weapons, which, regardless of the amount, is a big difference from a total absence of chemical weapons/W.M.D.

Will we find more? Probably. Will more Americans be killed in the process? Most likely. Does that mean we should leave? No.

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Are tanning salons safe?
Dermatologists, tanning reps disagree

By Pfc. IAN BOUDREAU
Inside the Turret staff writer
ian.boudreau@us.army.mil

Millions of Americans believe in acquiring an annual must-have fasion accessory: a golden tan.
Studies linking various forms of skin cancer to prolonged exposure to the sun have sent many tanners indoors to tanning salons. However, accodring to research published in The Journal of the American Academy of Dermatology, even a single session of indoor tanning can cause the molecular changes linked with melanoma, the dealiest form of skin cancer.
Rick Kueber, the president of Sun Tan City, a chain of tanning salons based in Elizabethtown which has a salon on Knox Boulevard in Radcliff, said those findings don't fairly represent the tanning industry.
"In some cases, we don't get a chance to defend ourselves," Kueber said. "Really, tanning is about moderation.
"Damaging your skin is primarily through burning and not properly caring for you skin.
"Tanning really is a natural process of the body. Your skin tans in order to create a sunburn barrier. Once you have a base tan - which we can easily build in the controlled environment of a tanning salon - you can prevent (sunburn) from happening."
Outdoor sun exposure is unregulated, Kueber said, which means sun-worshippers can't know when they've reached the maximum allowable dosage of ultra-violet radiation - rays from the sun that cause the skin to develop a tan and eventually burn.
"Tanning is your body's defense against sunburn... Obviously, our goal is, when we tan somebody, to prevent burning and set up a moderation schedule that's appropriate for their skin type," Kueber explained.
The medical community, however, doesn't buy his explanation.
"There's no such thing as a good 'base tan,'" said Regina Rivera, a medical assistant with the Associates of Dermatology in Louisville.
In both the outdoors and in a tanning bed, tanners run the risk of skin cancer and premature skin aging, she said.
"I absolutely agree," said Dr. Charles Moon, a dermatologist with Fort Knox's Ireland Army Community Hospital Department of Dermatology.
"Just because you don't sunburn doesn't mean you aren't causing damage to your skin," he said. "The presence of a tan doesn't protect you from anything. All it means is that you've had increased UV exposure."
Rivera said skin damage is the result of the cumulative effect of light exposure over a person's entire life.
"The only thing we recommend for tanning is sunless tanners, such as the sprays and cremes," Rivera said.
Several newer sunless-tanning sprays and cremes can create a natural-looking tan without the discoloration, streaking, or unpleasant smell associated with earlier products, Moon said.
"We teach our patients to use smart sun-sense," Rivera said. Wearing hats outside and using strong sunscreen, even on small children, can reduce the skin damage cause by UV exposure.
Moon further advised outdoors enthusiasts to avoid peak sun hours, from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., when UV intesity is the highest.
Sunscreens containing zinc oxide or titanium dioxide provide good UV protection, and generally don't cause allergic reactions in people with sensitive skin, Moon said.
Is there a difference between sun tanning and indoor salon tanning?
"I don't think there's a health benefit to using either one," Moon said. "The only thing you're doing is increasing your chances of sunburn, early aging, and skin cancer."

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I'm sure everyone here on tBLOG is well-aware of the technical difficulties that have accompanied what I guess is a server switch. Moving right along.

Dad sent me this article, which was published, inexplicably, in The New York Times. It's about the sarin gas weapon used against troops in Iraq last week, which, unless you're as observant as tblogger [url=http://juniperflux.tblog.com]Juniperflux,[/url] you could easily have missed completely.

Here we go.

Sarin? What Sarin?

May 19, 2004 
By WILLIAM SAFIRE

You probably missed the news because it didn't get much
play, but a small, crude weapon of mass destruction may
have been used by Saddam's terrorists in Iraq this week.

The apparent weapon was sarin gas, a highly toxic nerve
agent that causes victims to choke to death. Developed by
the Nazis, it has been used in the past by terrorists in
Japan to kill a dozen subway riders and panic thousands,
and by Saddam Hussein, who produced tons of it to kill
Iraqi Kurds.

Rigged as an "improvised explosive device," or roadside
bomb, the 155-millimeter howitzer shell was accidentally
detonated by a U.S. ordnance team. Two men were treated for
what an Army spokesman called "minor exposure" to the nerve
gas.

You never saw such a rush to dismiss this as not news. U.N.
weapons inspectors whose reputations rest on denial of
Saddam's W.M.D. pooh-poohed the report. "It doesn't strike
me as a big deal," said David Kay.

"Sarin Bomb Is Likely a Leftover From the 80's" was USA
Today's Page 10 brushoff; maybe the terrorists didn't know
their shell was loaded with sarin. Besides, say our
lionized apostles of defeat, a poison-gas bomb does not a
"stockpile" make. Even the Defense Department, on the
defensive, strained not to appear alarmist, saying
confirmation was needed for the field tests.

In this rush to misjudgment, we can see an example of the
"Four Noes" that have become the defeatists' platform.

The first "no" is no stockpiles of W.M.D., used to justify
the war, were found. With the qualifier "so far" left out,
the absence of evidence is taken to be evidence of absence.
In weeks or years to come - when the pendulum has swung,
and it becomes newsworthy to show how cut-and-runners in
2004 were mistaken - logic suggests we will see a rash of
articles and blockbuster books to that end.

These may well reveal the successful concealment of W.M.D.,
as well as prewar shipments thereof to Syria and plans for
production and missile delivery, by Saddam's Special
Republican Guard and fedayeen, as part of his planned
guerrilla war - the grandmother of all battles. The present
story line of "Saddam was stupid, fooled by his generals"
would then be replaced by "Saddam was shrewder than we
thought."

This will be especially true for bacteriological weapons,
which are small and easier to hide. In a sovereign and free
Iraq, when germ-warfare scientists are fearful of being
tried as prewar criminals, their impetus will be to sing -
and point to caches of anthrax and other mass killers.

Defeatism's second "no" is no connection was made between
Saddam and Al Qaeda or any of its terrorist affiliates.
This is asserted as revealed truth with great fervor,
despite an extensive listing of communications and meetings
between Iraqi officials and terrorists submitted to
Congress months ago.

Most damning is the rise to terror's top rank of Abu Musab
al-Zarqawi, who escaped Afghanistan to receive medical
treatment in Baghdad. He joined Ansar al-Islam, a Qaeda
offshoot whose presence in Iraq to murder Kurds at Saddam's
behest was noted in this space in the weeks after 9/11. His
activity in Iraq was cited by President Bush six months
before our invasion. Osama's disciple Zarqawi is now
thought to be the televised beheader of a captive American.


The third "no" is no human-rights high ground can be
claimed by us regarding Saddam's torture chambers because
we mistreated Iraqi prisoners. This equates sleep
deprivation with life deprivation, illegal individual
humiliation with official mass murder. We flagellate
ourselves for mistreatment by a few of our guards, who will
be punished; he delightedly oversaw the shoveling of
300,000 innocent Iraqis into unmarked graves. Iraqis know
the difference.

The fourth "no" is no Arab nation is culturally ready for
political freedom and our attempt to impose democracy in
Iraq is arrogant Wilsonian idealism.

In coming years, this will be blasted by revisionist
reportage as an ignoble ethnic-racist slur. Iraqis will
gain the power, with our help, to put down the terrorists
and find their own brand of political equilibrium.

Will today's defeatists then admit they were wrong? That's
a fifth "no."

- - -

It's getting late for a Wednesday. But there are all kinds of interesting issues to discuss here. I suppose that's all fuel for tomorrow, when, hopefully, the comment feature will be up and running.

In other news, I published my first article in Inside the Turret today, a piece examining tanning salons and the risks involved therewith. It ran front page, which is a nice way to start out.

Anyway, I'm glad we're back online with tBLOG, and there will be more tomorrow.

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Ok, looking at some of these responses, I suppose it's time for another clarification.

First off, as far as the articles I linked to are concerned, the first point I'd like to make is that I didn't write them. I don't even neccessarily agree with everything in them.

Second, pointing out additional, perhaps "big picture" facts and comparing and contrasting them to the specific ones that are garnering the most attention does not constitute an attempt to "excuse" or "defend" the original issue -- namely, prisoner abuse in Abu Ghraib by our own "Army of One."

If any of you think that I'm trying to defend the abuse of the Iraqi prisoners, well, I guess I've been wasting my time.

I'm going to try to make my point here as clearly and succinctly as possible.

There is this huge, almost inflated internal outrage in the United States going on over the abuse of these prisoners. The atrocities described are certainly sobering, and may be enough to give us pause.

But do these specific instances take away from the good we are accomplishing? Does it mean that our whole purpose is counterfeit? Does the fact that a few ground-level soldiers abused prisoners put the onus on the Secretary of Defense or the President? Are they expected to have such micro-managerial control over the troops on the ground?

I'd say, no. The first article I linked to was about what went on in Abu Ghraib before the invasion of Iraq. Robert Alt spoke with several survivors who had lost their right hands for trading in money other than the Iraqi dinaar.

I guess I just think it's worthwhile putting things into context. As Mark Steyn writes in the second article I posted, while politicians and pundits are "calling for each others' heads" inside Washington, D. C.'s beltway, terrorists are actually sawing off the heads of American citizens.

Which brings me to another point. Why haven't we heard a cry of righteous indignation over the brutal murder of Nick Berg? I'll leave this one to you, faithful readers. There sure hasn't been much of a response in either our own press or the Arab world's. I'd like to hear some theories on this, and where you think this fits into the Big Picture.

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If you didn't care for the last article I linked, you'll hate [url=http://www.suntimes.com/outpu...]this one.[/url]

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I’ve been reading through Bob Woodward’s now-famous new book, Plan of Attack. It’s got some great details in it on the thought and planning that went into the Iraq war, but I was disappointed. It’s hardly the searing indictment of the Bush administration that it’s been purported to be by the folks who wave it around on TV.

Sure, there are definitely flaws in the administration that come to light under Woodward’s take on the issue, notably Dick Cheney’s “almost rabid” pursuit of military action in Iraq. I don’t get the sense from the book, at least explicitly, the Cheney’s motives are related to his former CEOship of Halliburton, but at the same time, one wonders why he was so aggressive about military action in Iraq.

According to Woodward, Bush himself was one of the leading proponents of taking the issue to the United Nations for yet another resolution prior to military action.

A passage toward the middle of the volume talks about the assumptions made about Saddam’s supposed possession Weapons of Mass Destruction. Apparently, our HUMINT (human intelligence) in Iraq has always been patchy at best, and conclusions were drawn by the CIA in a National Intelligence Estimate (NIE) that Saddam “probably had around 500 metric tons of chemical agents available” which could be weaponized. Since Saddam had used chemical weapons on his own people before, it wasn’t an outlandish supposition that he would use them against his enemies; i.e., Israel and U.S. troops in the region, particularly if cornered.

During the first year of Bush’s presidency, practically everyone, including Senators Hillary Clinton and John Kerry, believed categorically that Hussein not only desired and pursued but actually possessed nu-clear, chemical and biological weapons.

Now that we haven’t really found much, most of the people who weighed in back then have conveniently forgotten their former disgruntledness, and are spending their time asking how we dared go into a country without proper evidence, and even allege that the whole war was waged over a “lie.”

Politics, I suppose, isn’t the arena in which to grant people the benefit of the doubt. I don’t blame people for cynicism. I also don’t think it’s a huge leap to think that our Texan Commander-in-Chief acted in the way he thought would protect America most effectively – even if that happened to be Cowboy Style.

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Here's a great article by Robert Alt on [url=http://www.nationalreview.com...]Abu Ghraib prison atrocities[/url] during Saddam Hussein's rule of Iraq.

I found this out while shopping in Louisville for the set of wheels I'm going to desperately need before too long. For anyone who hasn't dealt with these folks before, just remember to stick to your guns. They try to break down any reason you have for NOT buying a car today.

This fellow eventually told me that he works for straight commission, and he doesn't get any money if he doesn't sell cars.

"I sell about 15 cars a month," he said, "so, one every other day."

Great, I thought. Let's hope you sold one yesterday.

I wound up telling him, after he said I didn't have to pay anything today, that I flat-out wasn't going to buy a car today, let alone the first one I tried out. There wasn't a damn thing he could say to make me do it.

The guy looked a little sad, and he went off for one of those 10-minute talk-to-the-manager trips just to get his business card, which he gave me when he got back.

The car in question is a 1999 Nissan Sentra with around 36 thousand miles on it. It's a 1.6 liter 4 cylinder, with a CD player, four doors, alloy wheels, etc... all for around $8,000. It's in great shape, and if that bastard hadn't given me the hard sell, I might very well have bought it. But after having this dude try to pressure me so hard, I was immediately suspicious.

So... advice? Any car experts out there want to let me know if this is worth going for? I'd be forking over around $200 a month...

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I was reading over my last post, and I figured I should clarify a certain point.

There is no "Media Conspiracy" in action to try to strip us of our values and our children of their innocence.

The reason TV news, magazines, and newspapers stay around is because they generate revenue. For most media outlets, this means selling ads. On average, 60 - 70 percent of a newspaper is devoted to advertising. In magazines, it's closer to 80 percent.

Media outlets sell ads for a cost based on how many potential customers are going to see or read the ad. The simplest figure to use is a newspaper's circulation or a television program's viewership. In TV, this is calculated from ratings, which are collected by several different companies in a variety of ways.

In order to increase viewership, television is tailored to the audience. If the viewership responds positively to something, more of it will show up. Negatively, same deal.

Okay -- this all makes sense, right? Now flip on your TV and find out what folks have been responding positively to. Ahh... Fox's "The Swan." Quality. Jerry Springer's still doing his white trash sideshow, right?

The punditry going on in TV news these days is another symptom of the same problem. Regardless of what people think of it, they watch it, and that means the network gets more money from advertising.

So: we have no one to blame but ourselves. I'm of the opinion that our society desperatetly needs a vehicle to teach responsible media consumption to the masses... otherwise, "reality TV" isn't going to stop any time sooon.

=http://www.redmeat.com/redmea...

* * *

And now, a shameless ploy to get comments. Here we go:

American civilian Nick Berg's murder on videotape is obviously a shocking tragedy, but it's just as obvious that the issue will be politicized by both presidential campaigns. Who's hand will it play into? Furthermore, is the murder evidence that we should pull out of Iraq, or a demonstration of why we need to "stay the course?"

This one's on you.

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It’s becoming increasingly apparent that it’s not what happens that affects public opinion, but what appears to happen.

In a world where we’re getting busier and busier, the sound bites that present themselves as “news” and “information” are getting shorter and shorter, leaving gaps in the story that are getting larger and larger by direct proportion.

Sadly, the information vacuum is being filled in with what amounts to punditry, and where journalists were once lauded for being impartial, now the most famous anchors and reporters are those who can most effectively inject their own (or their company’s) line into whatever issue they happen to be reporting on.

This isn’t the only factor that goes into the public’s perception of current events. While I was in college, taking a media theory class, our professor brought up the “Mean World Syndrome.” Since the events that generally qualify as news are the ones involving violence and scandal (“business as usual” just doesn’t make a good headline), the world as portrayed by the news media is one full of shootings, rapes, genocides, helicopter crashes and corporate corruption.

The Mean World Syndrome theoretically occurs when individuals take this information and use it to form their ideas of how the world works. Someone who has been led to believe that the world is a deadly and violent place will naturally react to their world, violent or not, in a different way – they’ll tend to be suspicious and fearful of strangers, and less likely to trust.

When large numbers of people begin to react this way, the theory says, the world actually becomes a different – a meaner -- place.

What’s gotten me onto this pontification? I’ll be honest: it’s the frenzy that’s erupted over the abuse of Iraqi (and possibly other) prisoners by our own men and women in uniform.

Before anyone gets too upset, let me say that I’m outraged by this in a very personal way myself. First, it’s a total and blatant disregard for even the most basic of human rights – the same rights we’re supposedly fighting for. But second, while I don’t feel personally responsible for the actions of a couple psychotic Military Policemen deployed to Iraq, their actions have tarnished the uniform I wear to work every day. How am I supposed to hold my head high when the front pages of newspapers and magazines show the leering faces of soldiers who took the same oath I did?

The really sad thing is that because of what qualifies as news, the good things soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines have done in Iraq have been largely overlooked. You don’t hear about our military feeding children, building houses and reaching out to the Iraqi community.

Coming hot off the heels of a tour in South Korea, I’ve got to say that based on news media coverage of the area, before I arrived I was apprehensive, thinking that the civilian population was hostile and violent, prone to firebombing and rioting. When I got there, I found out the vast majority of Koreans are friendly and welcoming, with only a very vocal minority staging intermittent protests that often drew few, if any, attendees.

I heard an interview with Russell Crowe about the production of Master and Commander a few weeks ago. The interviewer asked Crowe about the authenticity of the movie, and the actor warned that it’s really a waste of time to try to get a good sense of history by watching movies, but said that the production team for his latest film had tried hard to do justice to the era.

I’d suggest that it’s a waste of time to try to get a good sense of current events by watching television news, and that these loud, graphics-heavy, anchor-personality networks are guilty of not even attempting to do justice to our own era.

We get a lot of bad news, folks. But that’s not all there is… you just have to dig deeper to get to the positive stuff.

1) Loan him a piece of original artwork or a family photo and make him promise to get it back to you as soon as possible.

2) Ask him to do a story on a press release you have written.

3) Loan him your car.

Over the past few days I've been mostly getting settled in to life here at Fort Knox. Another guy who works at The Turret, Spc. Salmons, has been great about providing rides around and off post, and I'm using his laptop right now as I type this.

I picked up some essentials today at the Wal-Mart near post, including Hot Pockets, clam chowder, and a fifth of Jack Daniels (for a special occasion).

I called home today and spoke with Mom to wish her a happy Mother's Day. She was happy I called, but she told me about how my youngest brother Jake is really laying an egg in terms of his relationship with the parents. I talked to him about it while I was visiting, but he's of the opinion that he's done nothing wrong, and that Mom and Dad are just creating a bunch of parental hot air and trying to meddle with his life.

In one sense, I guess I understand how he could be indignant that they're placing demands on him. But the fact of the matter is, Dad is paying his (rather costly) tuition, and as far as I'm concerned, Jake better buck up, because otherwise he might find himself a college dropout with a 3.6 average.

It's a complicated issue, and I can't get into everything here. But I sure wish I could convince him to bite the bullet, apologize to Dad for wrongs percieved, and get back on the horse. It would be an easy fix if he wasn't so damn stubborn. I guess I'll just have to watch the cards fall as they may.

Anyway, not much going on tonight. I might stop by the "Time Out" sports bar down the block and listen to some jukebox music over a beer or two, but for some reason, I've been pretty happy in this calmed-down atmosphere. I've been reading a lot, and it's nice to sit out on the barracks porch and watch the evening approach. The temperature's perfect, a light breeze blows through, and other off-duty soldiers sit out drinking beer and listening to bassy hip-hop music and throw rocks at Dumpsters. For some reason, it's nice, just now, to simply take it all in.

With that, I'll leave you all to your Sunday evening. Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there, hope it's a great one.

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Well, I've arrived at the Army's home of Cavalry and Armor: Fort Knox, Kentucky. Mom drove me down over two days, and we had a great trip. I seriously haven't had a chance to sit down and talk with Mom in a long, long time, and it really was nice just to catch up, so to speak.

Anyway, my first impression of Fort Knox is that it's a) Club Med compared to Korea, and b) the offices of Inside the Turret have actual journalists who work in them. I can't believe the incredible difference in professionalism and quality that this place seems to produce on a weekly basis. I'm sure I'll have much more to say about that later.

Lately, I've just been in-processing, which involves going to dozens of different offices and facilities and giving people copies of my orders.

I got my TA-50 issued yesterday. Where in Korea I had enough gear to more than fill two Army duffel bags, here there was just enough to cover the bottom of a laundry bag. I have a Kevlar helmet, old-school load-bearing equipment, some wet-weather gear, and... that's about it. Oh yes -- a scarf. That's the extent of it. Wow.

I'm definitely going to need a car. Everything is spread out over miles and miles, and there isn't a "ville" to speak of outside the gates, even if I felt like walking all the way there.

This is also a Basic Training facility, so wherever you go there are shaved-headed "baby tankers" marching miserably around in formations with drill sergeants close behind.

Anyway, I'll have to get in a real update later on, and there are definitely some current-events topics I'm going to have to tackle, not the least of which being the alleged torture of Iraqi prisoners of war. Not to give anything away, but I'll be the first person to tell you that there are a lot of individual shitheads in the Army.

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Well, apparently when I drink whiskey I get sappy and sentimental, so you wind up with my last post. I was going to delete it, but in the interest of butal honesty, I've left it as is. To be fair, only the last verse of the song was written in the wall of the bathroom, and I think it's a great set of lyrics anyway. Plus it's sung by Kermit the Frog, which gives it that extra-special "I wish I was a kid again" vibe.

Anyhow. I was watching the news tonight, and the question of the hour was "Are we making too big a deal over this Kerry throwing his medals/ribbons around" thing. Guilty as I am of ranting about it, I'd have to say, yes, we are. I still think Kerry is guilty of trying to have it both ways on a variety of issues, but I suppose it's time to put this medals thing aside.

In other news, I head out to Fort Knox tomorrow. I'll be reporting Tuesday, and hopefully getting there will inspire me to write about things people care about again. I've been slipping since I've been on leave, and I think getting back to work will stir up the edgy, creative fire in my journalistic spirit again.

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I don't usually put lyrics in my blog... in fact, I don't think I ever have.

However, while I was downtown, in a bar where a friend of mine and I used to play open mike night at every Sunday evening, I went to the bathroom and saw lyrics from this song written on the wall. They struck me.

So, without further ado, The Rainbow Connection, by Kermit the Frog:

Why are there so many songs about rainbows,
And what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
And rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told, and some choose to believe it;
I know they're wrong, wait and see.

Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection;
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard and answered,
When wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it;
Look what it's done so far.

What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing,
And what do we think we might see?

Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection;
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

All of us under its spell;
We know that it's probably magic.

Have you been half asleep, and have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?
The voice might be one and the same.

I've heard it too many times to ignore it,
It's something that I'm s'posed to be.

Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection;
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

Why are there so many songs about rainbows?
That's part of what rainbows do.
Rainbows are memories, sweet dreams reminders.
All of us watching and wishing we'd find it.
I've noticed you're watching too.

Someday we'll find it, the Rainbow Connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and you.

Life's like a movie, write your own ending,
Keep believing, keep pretending
We've done just what we set out to do.
Thanks to the lovers, the dreamers and you.

I was going to write a soul-searching blog tonight, but I think that pretty much does it. Good night.

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Last night I hung out with some friends at an apartment, where we played card games and drank beer. Brad was heading back to Italy the next morning, so we decided to walk downtown on our own and have a drink at a bar.

The bars were packed with Cortland State students, and since it was about 1:30 a.m., most of them were roaring drunk. Brad and I had a Jack and Coke and said our goodbyes.

On the way back to the apartment, I stopped in [url=http://www.darkhorsecortland....]The Dark Horse Tavern[/url]. They were playing a long set of '80s hard rock - Def Leppard, Guns 'n' Roses, Jon Bon Jovi - so I couldn't resist. It was late, so picking up a chick wasn't even on my mind.

I'd also lost my civilian glasses a few nights before, and I wasn't about to wear my Army-issue BCGs (stands for Birth Control Glasses, because they are so ugly they effectively prevent anyone wearing them from creating a child) in public. I'm slightly less blind than a bat without corrective lenses.

The DJ announced "Absolute last call," so I went up to an open spot on the sticky bar.

"I'm all done," the bartendress said.

I shot a "Whaddayagonnado" glance over at the girl standing next to me. As I was putting my wallet back in my pocket, she reached over and grabbed my head with both hands and just started making out with me. Strange. She started getting hot and heavy, and the DJ announced that the bar was closed.

My first decision was not the chivalrous one.

"We've gotta take this somewhere else, sweetheart," I said.

She mumbled something about heading back to her place, and so I proceeded to walk her towards her home. During the trip, we dove into alcoves and alleys and played tonsil hockey. I asked her her name, and when I told her mine, she said, "I know," which I thought was weird, but I chalked it up to drunk-speak. I'd never seen her in my life.

After about two blocks, I decided that there was no way I was going to do anything with this girl. She was absolutely wasted, and was getting worse with every step. I swear on whatever journalistic ethics I have left that my intentions at that point were to help her walk back to her house, where she was sure to have roommates, turn her over to them, and wish everyone a good night.

I didn't get the chance. She stopped all of a sudden and said, "Oh my GAWD! I left my pocketbook a cell phone and everything at the Horse Dark... or... the Dark Spot.... or...."

"We'll never make it back there in time," I said. "They'll have locked the place up. Let me take you back to your place, and you can give them a call tomorrow."

She wasn't moving. All of a sudden I heard a female voice calling her name from behind us. A small girl trotted up, and asked me if I was one of "Tracy's" friends.

"I just met her. I was helping her get back to her place, because she's pretty damn drunk," I told her.

"Well, I'm her sister." They didn't look even remotely similar.

"Whatever," I said. "She's your problem now." I handed little "Tracy" over to her friend, and they staggered back down toward the Dark Horse.

I headed back to the apartment, where we finished the beer. Eventually I headed back to Ryan's place, and while we were looking for a DVD player remote control, Tom found my glasses. What a weird night.

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