In the world of high stakes diplomacy there are no sides. Think of this underworld as a giant circle of loose associations banded together under a common principle – freedom at all costs. Perhaps it stands to reason that in these days of high anxiety geopolitics there could not have been a more prominent subliminal reference to such a circle than the now infamous Obama circle. The “O” word has been a calling card for those who see danger and who need to get down to business quickly.

What do the streets of San Francisco have to do with the Strait of Hormuz? On the surface, there isn’t much one can infer from a gay parade which bears any resemblance to the standoff currently well under way between the United States and Israel over Iran. But there is a long tradition of spy networks that are as reliable as a finely crafted watch. Timed to perfection and with just the right situation congealing, the underworld of geopolitics shifts into high gear.

Such networks used to be more common in the old days of Jimmy Carter. Back in the 1970’s a nuclear armed Soviet Union was raging out of control, while simultaneously the U.S. was systematically being brought to its knees by a pacifist president who not only allowed but actually encouraged the infiltration and destruction of the U.S. economic system. Perhaps the greatest signal to those who wanted America’s destruction was when Jimmy Carter sat before the cameras in the Oval Office while wearing a cardigan sweater and lamented to us all that we were hopelessly adrift in a world where American power and prestige was deep underneath us and forever lost. It was a signal of defeat that was taken very seriously by right minded diplomats around the world, and the message was loud and clear. Defend America and American freedom at all costs.

Who else was there to answer this call when all the lines were down and only a tiny network of people could still communicate? You bet it’s true, and it is an indisputable fact that the greatest spy networks of all were comprised of gay men. There is a style and manner of speech that accompanies a true master of his art that can extract the most needed information of all when it comes to knowing what is really going on in the world. It takes both profound innocence and cunning to pull off the act of getting men to open up and spill their guts. One’s soul must be clean, you must be dedicated to your craft, and you must listen carefully and above all keep your network very close to you.

If you haven’t noticed, let me tell you that conspicuously absent from Obama rallies have been gay men. It is not because Obama is against gay men, but actually he is simply a tool. Obama is not Bill Clinton with respect to being in the forefront of the gay rights movement. One needs not even ponder this phenomenon of lack of support long. The reason is crystal clear. The network of which all gays are inherently aware, that of the dark underground of society which is not part of the flamboyant crowd, is in full gear right now filtering out the word on Iran. Obama is simply a pretext for taking what would otherwise have been a long diplomatic struggle with Iran while they simultaneously gain nuclear capabilities, and turning it into a full-fledged emergency. The picture of the two gay men being hung in public was perhaps the starting point. The rest is now history.

But also this perfect storm involves Israel, which is the only stable democracy in the Middle East that embraces U.S. style freedom. When push comes to shove and Israel is threatened then the network becomes supercharged and takes on a sense of immediacy and urgency. When perfect storms like this occurs it is like the gathering of an old club where thankfully no one professes to be Democrat or Republican, left or right. Quite simply there is a job to be done, and it is done quite well.

The inevitable war on Iran will be the first war initiated not by the President of the United States by rather by Internet consensus. In fact given this scenario the war has already begun. It started right here with free thinkers taking a shot at Obama at the same time at which the mainstream media pumped him up. It is the classic bait and switch routine, whose methodology is as old as the hills. First, you attack the man which in turn makes his followers more vociferous and ardent in their support for him. Then you bombard the Internet with warnings to Iran about an attack.

The switch occurs subtly and almost without notice, because the war is already under way without any guns being fired: The price of oil soars on speculation, military exercises in the Mediterranean, and the usual war of words from the bully, Ahmadenijad. The switch has already been pulled because Obama opened the door. He is the distraction and the ignition at the same time. Obama opened the door to war on Iran by narrowing the time table from an otherwise shoe-in Republican president in 2008 to a credible challenge from a devout pacifist. Making matters more complicated is that this challenger is an apostate muslim and a profound security risk.

The war on Iran had to be sped up to occur before an Obama presidency, while simultaneously pulling the rug out from under Obama by destroying his rhetoric that American power and prestige had been undermined by the war on Iraq. The perfect storm of domestic and international politics has been enjoined, and information is critical in getting this war started quickly – information that only devout followers of the principles of American freedom can do in their own way through blogging.

Blogging is not just for self-expression any longer. Blogging has become the network link for the devoted followers of principles that define a nation as complicated as America is. Defining this election was perhaps the key ingredient for signaling that the war on Iran had begun. The groundwork has already been laid for it, and there isn’t any backing down from it now. The only question left is when the guns will start firing. As Captain Ramsey said in the movie “Crimson Tide”, “War is a continuation of politics by other means.” Everyone participates in the process of the great standoff, and little does Obama know perhaps is that he is nothing more than a tool, and he has been played like a stradivarius.

There is still a lingering longing for the days of the Cold War when those who worked their craft of disseminating information in the defense of freedom felt like they were playing an essential role in what democracy is all about – participation by all. Surprisingly, once one is inducted into this role it is fairly harmless, except for some having all the guns around you all the time can be draining. There is a price to pay for doing such work, and the ones who do it will never be publicly recognized for their efforts. To do this would render this subculture a moot point.

To those who doubt any of this, pay attention to the plight of Obama and Iran this year. But also pay close attention to America and Israel and what happens when tried and true networks built over decades work together. And also, let it be known to any young democracy out there that emerged as a result of the fall of the Soviet Union and who missed out on the fun and games of the 70’s and 80’s, you are welcome to the club at any time. The goal is not to talk about how great one’s accomplishments are nor is the goal to promote war. The goal is to broaden the scope of American-style freedom and democracy, and it is quite simply the only thing worth taking note of especially when it is threatened.

Obama may get the word soon that he has lost the election. He may get it in the form of open warfare. Or he may receive an ear full when he hears about the fate of his presidency should he pursue the policies he has laid out. He will have a choice to make given the inevitability of what is about to occur in either case. If he changes his position on the war in Iraq his followers will leave him in droves. It is important to simply face the facts and stop the rhetoric for a moment and admit that his chances for becoming president at this point are doomed. There are people who have a lot of a lot of experience and will not allow another Carter into the White House particularly at this time. The machinery for preventing this is already in full gear, and Obama is basically between a rock and a hard place.

Call it what you like, but there are some old scores that need to be settled from the battle against the Soviet Union, which by the way was without a single shot being fired. This game if you will is a well proven art form performed by many individuals who deserve much credit for which they will probably never receive. The only satisfaction is that of knowing that the world is more free. So, what do the streets of San Francisco have to do with the Strait of Hormuz? It looks rather innocuous on the surface and far removed from one another, however, don’t be fooled by it.

-TDN

D.A.N.C.E. – Justice

It’s all over the Internet, so just go check it out. American youth is running the world every day live on youtube. The mainstream media is a laughable joke. The same old tired faces are dredging up the same old tired bullshit all day long. It’s gotten so bad on the MSM that in order to make their shows somehow relevant they have to post video clips posted on the Internet by goodness knows who.

Let me recommend some stuff to you in case you need to know who is really influencing people out there. I’m sick of that idiot Fred, and forget about that slut Chris Crocker. Instead, turn yourself loose onto Wuasaby and his smartly done video work called ‘momentos‘.

Then go take a look at what Bobby Whatley has to say about his very conventional life in Hueytown, Alabama. Watch as Whatley takes pop culture and flips it over in a way only a young person living in a small town in the south can get away with. Watch carefully as he parodies the insidious rappers that permeate pop culture and skewers them gently with intermittent shots of himself hanging with his friends and family.

The faces of American youth are lost by the mainstream media. The youth of this country have an important message to tell everyone about the fleeting nature of life and love. Through the Internet, young people are discovering the bonds of love, friendship, family, and honesty. There is some nonsense out there such as Fred and Chris, but by and large the majority of the young people who post on the Internet are participating in the most significant liberating act that most of us could only dream about just a generation ago.

It is absolutely phenomenal to watch as people literally fill in the colors of their own lives without regard to outside influences that have become such a stranglehold on so-called grownups. The television generation is giving way to the Internet generation, and the differences are becoming more pronounced by the day.

For example, it used to take me about a half an hour to get through the days’ news. Now it takes me two hours or more. I have to find out what people are really saying about their lives and not what some employees in a corporation think I need to know. I don’t really mind spending the extra time either, because life is complex in its diverseness and different points of view come together and form a basis for making my judgments.

The television generation is dying a slow and painful death. They think they are so cool just because they have big corporate names behind them. But please give me a break, they are not cool. They are just picking up fat paychecks until either their ratings go into the toilet or worse perhaps if their corporate media wet dreams come to pass and the youth of the Internet generation get old, fat and lazy and give up and sit in the old comfy chair and change the channel with the remote just like their dad did before them.

Let me take one last crack at this election, which is that I believe that Obama thinks he is some kind of Internet superstar. But in reality he is a lame ass who is marketing himself as an Internet savvy person to people who have no idea what being an Internet sensation is about. While the retards who go to his revivals, er, rallies stand up in the bleachers and cheer and wave their signs, their children are at home posting videos and talking about what really matters in their lives. Being a hit on the Internet means quite simply that you tell the truth about things that matter to you in your life rather than listening to regurgitated crap from some talking head. Is that change? Not hardly.

The leader of the new free world of the Internet, which by the way is all of us who participate in it, has to be genuine and real. You have to say things that you know based upon people who you know and who you talked with. In this world it is getting more and more difficult for people to pretend they know things that they do not know. Call it what you like, but this phenomenon is typically associated with the past generations of people who could get away with it.

Today, American youth control the new media, and everyone should take note of this very important and refreshing message.

-TDN

by: George Carlin

I Am Your Worst Nightmare.

I am a BAD American.

I am George Carlin.

I believe the money I make belongs to me and my family, not some mid level governmental functionary be it Democratic or Republican!

I’m in touch with my feelings and I like it that way!

I think being a minority does not make you noble or victimized, and does not entitle you to anything.

I believe that if you are selling me a Big Mac, do it in English.

I believe everyone has a right to pray to his or her God when and where they want to.

My heroes are John Wayne, Babe Ruth, Roy Rogers, and whoever canceled Jerry Springer.

I don’t hate the rich.

I don’t pity the poor.

I know wrestling is fake and I don’t waste my time watching or arguing about it.

I’ve never owned a slave, or was a slave, I haven’t burned any witches or been persecuted by the Turks and neither have you! So, shut up already.

I believe if you don’t like the way things are here, go back to where you came from and change your own country! This is AMERICA.

I want to know which church is it exactly where the Reverend Jesse Jackson preaches, where he gets his money, and why he is always part of the problem and not the solution. Can I get an AMEN on that one?

I think the cops have every right to shoot your sorry rear if you’re running from them..

I also think they have the right to pull you over if you’re breaking the law, regardless of what color you are.

..and, no, I don’t mind having my face shown on my drivers license. I think it’s good….. and I’m proud that ‘God’ is written on my money.

I think if you are too stupid to know how a ballot works, I don’t want you deciding who should be running the most powerful nation in the world for the next four years.

I dislike those people standing in the intersections trying to sell me stuff or trying to guilt me into making ‘donations’ to their cause.

I believe that it doesn’t take a village to raise a child, it takes two parents.

I believe ‘illegal’ is illegal no matter what the lawyers think.

I believe the American flag should be the only one allowed in AMERICA!

If this makes me a BAD American, then yes, I’m a BAD American.

If you are a BAD American too, please forward this to everyone you know.

We want our country back!

It’s 2008, the year when we want to sugar coat our world and receive political eye candy for the poor needy children we call Americans. We want to worship the sexy underworld of mixed races, mixed feelings, and just plain mixed up. We want tattoos with implants of giant female breasts poking up through our pant legs. We want to imagine a world destroyed by heat and desire. It’s all about warming this year – a sexual topic no less.

We are getting used to the Internet as a collective medium that touches our inner fragile soul and taunts it with pornography, not love. We have been given tabloid journalism instead of reports that enrich our lives by informing us about the bad people. It has gotten so bad that many of us cannot tell the bad people from the good ones. This because we have been given tawdry tales of good people somehow gone bad instead. What is bad is now good, and what is good is now bad.

We fight the evil doers and then we turn around and ponder electing someone to the highest office of the land who cannot tell an evil man from a good one. We are at war with ourselves over nothing more than images that are in our head. The struggle is engaged. The true war of good and evil has only yet begun. It is a war of images, which is on the surface something easy to get rid of. But it’s just not so, because we have become numbed to the plethora of images piped into our computer and television screens each day.

When 9-11 occurred it became clear to this writer that the war of wars had been engaged. It is an ideological war of nerves played on a multi-country platform. This is a war of hearts and minds: Ours or theirs, it doesn’t matter. We’re all into this war now, and it’s time to call it what it is. This is a war over what has been piped into our heads at such a rapid pace that only those of strong will and character are capable of ferreting through them all and making sense of this world.

What complicates this scenario is an age old worship of war which men instinctively possess much in the same manner as sex and lust are worshiped by artists. Songs are replete with references such as ‘I would die for you’, and vows of ‘Til death do us part’ are exchanged before the act of marital consummation. Death cries out for its next sexy, loving, warm and fuzzy victim. We count ourselves lucky to be swept away and taken into the unknown. It is part of our culture as Western thinkers. It is disturbing to those who are for the first time dipping their toe into our way of life. We are uncomfortable with the very being of our culture, yet we want others to feel the same way we do. This is not an easy way of life to sell, but who said that Western lifestyles were ever easy.

Much can be said about Muslims and the West. I prefer to think of the current struggle more in terms of an agreement gone awry. We agreed to let the Muslims have their clerics and mullahs as long as they let us have our firebrand politicians, talking heads, beer commercials, and pornography. This unwritten contract has been broken, and we are now in the deposition stage of our great 21st century trial.

Step aside O.J. Simpson, the war on terror is THE trial of this century. We are throwing everything at them we can. To the CIA, Al Gore’s threats of global warming sounding the alarm to stop burning fossil fuels is a spy’s worst nightmare. We have made enemies out of the world’s great oil superstore, Saudi Arabia. We won’t tell them we are upset about what their 9-11 hijackers have done to us, but some allude to it with veiled threats of global warming as a pretext for not using oil any longer.

They in turn are throwing everything they can at us. Money buys slick television coverage. From Al Jazeera to MSNBC to CNN, no journalist is going to argue with money in a world of corporate media ownership that places profits over professionalism. The age of the superstar politician has arrived with the coming of Obama. He squelches the calming voice of McCain by employing our own shortcomings against us, namely the lazy addiction to tabloid journalism. This is one right out of the play book of any great dictatorial regime desirous of power: Give the people sexy images while we give them nothing in return for their trust.

On the other hand perhaps it could be argued that Obama is a mere reflection of our national psyche right now. Our American fracture is open and visible to the naked eye. We are both angry at ourselves and in love with ourselves at the same time. Most Americans seem to be in need of this kind of man to lead them, because Obama is a reflection of this dichotomy.  But is it good for America to hang out our dirty laundry in such a bold fashion?

Yet this is the age of the pornopolitician, the one who lures and entraps us with repetitive images of the same well-rehearsed act of love over and over again. It looks good, but it isn’t, and we can’t seem to put our finger on just why  so many of us just simply go along with it unconsciously. Thoughtful introspective love seems to be a thing of the past in the porno world of instant gratification.

Along comes the global warming voices in the background warning us to give up this crazy dash from ourselves and slow down for the sake of the planet. I myself would call this movement personal warming, not global warming. Who knows for sure whether we are causing the planet to get warmer, but I know exactly how to make another person feel warmer.

The ones who wake up out of this slumber taking place during this great cultural war for the heart and soul of what it really means to be human will lay claim to victory. Call it what you like, but deep down in your heart you know exactly what I am talking about.

All this magnificent change came in just two years of a Democratic majority in Congress.

Nuf sed.

It’s time to tell the truth that Christianity is under attack. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that any religion is good or bad. All that I am saying is that Americans seem to be rejecting what they have been taught about America. They are waving the white flag of surrender to the new world order, the global economy, and the notion that somehow third world nation status is hip and cool.

It used to be that your house was your home, and that owning a house was an inalienable right linked to the notion of private property, the crux of capitalism. Now, people’s number one priority is to not own a home yet at the same time live in one. Simply put, this means that Americans want others to own homes that they live in that they rent from them. If everyone in America decided to live in homes that someone else owned, then no Americans would own a single home in America.

Gas is an interesting commodity. It is tied to the notion of freedom. The freedom to move about as you please at the drop of a hat and on a whim and a fleeting desire to just go somewhere. Gas is to free people what the keys to the prison represent to the inmates. Once you’re free though, then what happens? You find yourself being chased down by the prison guards, which in this case is the great Al Gore, who is the warden of the global warming maximum security prison complex. One must believe Al Gore’s take on the fate of the planet or suffer the consequences!

The media is an interesting commodity, too. You must believe those who appear on the magic screen or else you are not considered ‘cool’. The great trailblazer of the media looking in on itself, George Carlin, died. Basically his heart gave out and he was gone. Just like that. After years of ranting about anything dealing with established viewpoints, in the end perhaps he got just what he deserved – a quick and painless death. He mocked those of us who believe that living within a man-made system is not perfect, but it’s all we’ve got to hold onto.

Life goes on. After we’ve stepped on the accelerator a hundred thousand times. After we’ve moved into one house and then another and another while leaving behind memories behind its walls, what have we accomplished? Is the whole point of being free to simply move around? What constitutes happiness anyway? Is consumption merely a delay tactic intended to deflect our attention from the obvious fact that we are all going to bite the dust unceremoniously one day?

No.

Life is meaningless in the sense that this planet we live on is stuck in the middle of space with apparently no other living breathing creatures that we can communicate with located anywhere near us. We are all alone, and what we have created to give us a sense of security is under attack. The only problem is that the critics of society have no substitute to offer to replace it with.

Change? Change to what? All that people seem to be able to talk about these days is change. They don’t have a clue as to what the change ought to be for. All people have on their mind is getting rid of what they have, yet without giving up their right to be free. Individual freedom, however, is only guaranteed by a document that was written nearly 250 years ago that revolutionized the concept of what it means to be free.

What would Jesus say about all this change nonsense? First of all, if Jesus were around today he would probably be riding a bicycle to work bagging groceries at a locally owned grocery store in a small town in Alabama. He would be married to a woman who worked as a school bus driver, and they would have two kids who attend public schools. They would make around $29,000 a year, and they would be glad just to have the right to be left alone. To someone like Jesus just to be able to be left alone to live his life would be a welcome relief as opposed to what happened to him some 2,000 years ago. American freedom is no small quantity in the equation of true salvation.

Isn’t that what America is after all? America isn’t the place where people are supposed to be upset about what they don’t have. In the end, we have the right to live, and therefore the protection of life is front and center of what it is to be American. If anyone dares to believe that the sanctity of life is something that doesn’t matter and can be interpreted to mean many different things to different people then you would be sadly mistaken.

The right to life means that you have the right to protect your life through owning a gun. Right to life means that no one should be allowed to take a life without paying a price for it. The slippery slope toward unraveling the foundation of America is beset with questioning the belief that those who walked this earth before us did not have a clue about what their lives meant. People like George Carlin rose to fame with a new age pitch to toss aside the lives of others who came before us and create ones own reality. In the end, however, he was abruptly silenced, and his seemingly omniscient views bit the dust just like everyone else.

What’s left after it’s all over? A home? A car? Change?

No. What’s left is freedom, our greatest gift to succeeding generations. The freedom to believe as you choose in whatever you like is a remarkable accomplishment despite those who would mock it and try to convince you that somehow you have to change from something tried and true to something nobody has yet to hear about. Freedom to believe that our lives matter is the spiritual bedrock that differentiates believers from questioners. Pain and suffering is part of the journey that narrows the path we all must take, whether we do so voluntarily or kicking and screaming. Just because famous people die painlessly and surrounded by the trappings of success does not mean that they had any more insight into what life is about than anyone else.

It is important to choose your life carefully if you want to understand what it means to be alive in the first place. Think about what you are saying and choose your words carefully. Try not to rock the boat, because it won’t get you anywhere. Stop yelling and screaming, bitching and complaining, and stop looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Arrive at your own conclusions, and then relax because guess what. Somebody else already arrived at the same ones.

And then laugh about it and be grateful you’re free because the rules that keep us all together did not come about easily. People fought and died for the simple ability to be able to tell the story about how our lives are different, which can only take place within a framework of rules that apply to everyone.

It’s fun to try to be different, but in the end we’re all the same. Pay close attention, because smart people know that this is a concept that is fundamental to faith, not entertainment nor politics. Feeling connected is not something that is derived from momentary laughter or by chanting slogans. In fact, ironically being connected requires separation and quiet thought. To grasp the enormity of the human experience one must be profoundly humble. As a good friend of mine said, ‘I don’t want my president to be some flashy guy who makes me feel inadequate.’

A true American hero makes us all feel proud of who we are and what we stand for, namely, freedom. The only way to get there is by doing it yourself, and once you’re there you’re in good company surrounded by many others. As the saying goes, ‘You’re unique – just like everybody else’.

Please fuck with my head. C’mon, tell me I’m lame and retarded. Make me doubt myself and go look in the mirror wondering just who the hell I am. Play with my head. I dare you.

Here we go.

Personal motivations are indifferent to collective choices. Freedom rules in a comedic melancholy juxtaposed against the state and the rule, where the game of the name is the interpretation of the name itself.

Make your own reality is a big no-no. Oh no, don’t go there. But yes, please go there. Just don’t tell anybody you went. That’s the trick. Yes, take me.

Okay. Got it.

I’m set. I know the rules now. I’m ready to become the person I always wanted to be. One problem: Me. I’m locked in. Trapped by the very person I want to be more of. Ironic. Detestable. Sneaky. Abundant undercurrents and shadowy tones of life are all mine now. Alone I sit.

Bore me. Give me a chance. Talk to me. Try to hear what I am saying. Disagree with me. Show all your emotional capabilities. Do it in front of your children. Don’t hold back. Teach how to be more of yourself, even if others disagree with the you that you are.

Freedom is not what we want. Freedom is who we are. The very act of reading this is indicative of a reader who is free. You know what I’m talking about. Don’t pretend you don’t.

C’mon. Who are you kidding? Tell me your secrets. Let yourself be in the equilibrium that is so detestable that you can’t take it any longer. A minute. Maybe two. That’s all you can take. Suddenly, thoughts of prison occur. Maybe that’s easier than dealing with everyday life. Should I go there? Should I dwell on that aspect of life? No. It’s not me.

Who am I? Why do I need to know that anyway? Oh hell. It’s not important. Life chose me just like it chose you. We were drafted. This is a war. The war of life. It’s a struggle. Don’t pretend it isn’t. Everyone toils with it. If you’re rich you fear becoming poor. If you’re poor, you dream of becoming rich. But then you think, then what? What’s left to do? Do I have a calling? Am I happy? Who loves me? Have I loved enough? How much does it take to love? Nothing? Something? A little bit? How much is enough?

More questions? No. I can’t take it any longer. More questions means more answers. Every day starts out the same – with answers to questions that are really never asked. Meaningless thoughts. Worries for nothing. The human mind wasted again on things that don’t matter.

Who calls the shots? Who’s in charge? Where is everyone? Why do they fade away? Why don’t they just go? They stay. They appear from time to time and then leave us with thoughts – more answers to questions that no longer exist.

Where do I get off this trip easily? Is there an easy way out? No. One day I will wind up garnering a small mention somewhere, read by people who never knew me who are in a rush to go places they don’t fully understand why they are going there in the first place. Confusion is a state of life. Not knowing is a referendum on our own fragile connection with the infinite. Fearlessness of limitations is the first stepping stone to bliss.

Let go. Just let go. You will go where others have also gone. Fearlessly. Laughing. Mocking fate. Remembering every boring moment that led to the life that is … was.

Recon Air Assault mission
Posted 04-15-2008 at 07:24 PM by thepittman

An early april morning for me starts out this time around 4:00 in the morning. We have an Air Assault mission today, which is using helicopters to bring you to your mission area. We do this so we can maximize the amount of boots on the ground instead of being tied up with guarding our trucks if we used them instead. The morning is a warm 70 degrees and that usually means it will be a hot day once the sun gets up.

I get out of bed and do my normal routine for the morning. Its the process in the army known as Shit, Shower, Shave. I skipped the shower part this morning since I took one before I went to sleep and knowing as well that I would be drenched in sweat in a few hours. I get back to my shanty of a room (it consists of a large room slipt off into sections with plywood) throw on my work uniform for the day and head to my office.

I’m the communication NCOIC (Non-Commissioned Officer In Charge) so i make sure my radio is working for the day and well as other necessary specialty equipment I will be needing. I throw everything into my rucksack to make things an easier carry. Now that my equipment is good, its time to don my PPE(Personal Protective Equipment) which includes my body armor, helmet, kneepads, elbow pads, eye protection, and gloves. Its a lot of stuff to wear trust me and not very light. It will have you sweating up a storm in no time thats why you carry a camelbak full of water to recharge you during the day.

Everything is set. I head to the chow hall, munch down some jello looking eggs and drink some orange juice. Gotta be fueled for the day of walking. Daylight is about to hit so thats my cue to start walk to the LZ for our birds to come. We all sit in a group designated for our bird and goof off during the time we are waiting. I smoke a cigarette and tell one of the soldiers his mom is cow and he calls my sister a whore. The things soldiers do to pass the time.

The blackhawks arrive and its our time to begin the mission. It consists of doing reconnaissance of the area and check to see if there are any weapons caches. Its rather routine for us so we all pretty much know what to expect. Our area has been very calm and that makes me a happy soldier.

The blackhawks reach the mission LZ(Landing Zone) and we jump out of the helicopter. For some reason the asshole pilot flew over a dry field and dumped us into a freshly irrigated field. There is mud and water everywhere. I do my best to stay upright but others aren’t as lucky. Acouple soldiers eat the mud and we all laugh. We all start running through this mess once they recover and reach the first house.

There are a few children and possibly their mother, they stand outside watching us and the kids wave hello. I wave back and our translator asks for any information. She has nothing to report so we keep moving through our objectives doing the same process.

We reach a house at middle of our mission schedule. The owner is a member of the local council. We set up long range communications here and our commander talks with him about the area. While he is doing that I go over and say hi to his children. They’re are all standing in a huddle amazed at our uniforms and all the gadgets we have. I give them a few toys I had in my bag, which of course make them very happy. You can tell they have always lived rather poor being that they were farmers and worked hard for everything they had. Another interesting thing in this mans case he had two wives. One went over to the chickens, cut ones head off, and starting making their dinner. The other wife brought all of us chi tea and some bread. People in Iraq are always kind to guests in their home. We all have some of the refreshments and thank him for them.

We finish up at this house and move through a couple more fields. They of course are filled with mud as well. Its always funny to see a bunch of soldiers trying to look serious and barely being able to stay on their feet. Never a dull moment.

So far we haven’t found any possible AQI leads and no unauthorized weapons. This is very good. It used to be a hotbed of activity, now people are living peacefully which is good to see.

My platoon finishes up our last house. We are a few minutes from pick up so we move to the proper area. Once we get there we kneel and provide security as we make fun of the people that busted their ass in the mud today. We never let people live stupid things down its too much fun. It always comes back around though so its usually fair in the end.

The field we are in front of is bone dry unlike the others. When the birds start landing the dust is insane. I have to turn my back for a moment then turn around and run to the blackhawk. I can’t see a damn thing so I do my best to stare at the guys boots running in front of me while my head is down. I see the edge of the door and jump inside.

It only takes us a minute to load and take off. The view on the helicopter is always interesting but my eyes are too full of dirt to enjoy it at the moment. To sum things up we had a successful mission. The area was clear of troublemakers and the people were all friendly. I love every chance I get to interact with the children and do what I can to make them happy. Its the best part of being deployed. Any mission that ends in no injuries and happy kids is a win for me and the Iraqi people.

Step aside, nigger; the new word is cunt…. LOL