Let us remember the men, women, and families serving our nation out of Ft Hood. The Heroes who gave their lives, the heroes wounded in their bodies, and the heroes wounded in their hearts

Let us not condemn this man for his religion, if he stands condemned let it be as a brother who betrayed his oath to his country, profession, and family-in-arms.

And then there was Timothy McVeigh.

I write this blog after reading some of the press concerning Hasan’s motivation for his assault at Ft. Hood yesterday, killing thirteen and wounding scores. It appears his rampage was halted by the brave act of a civilian female security guard.

When I showed up at Quarters last night, I immediately heard crap about Hasan’s name and religion. I responded by noting that he was born in Virginia and his religious beliefs do not matter.

Even if this was an attack of terrorism, his religion would not matter.

Noting this, I am hearing arguments from the other side of stupidity, arguments about how he was harassed in the military for being a Muslim, there is even some noise in the press beginning to characterize his actions as a protest against our wars in the Middle East.

Let us be clear, this is nothing but the acts of a selfish man violating not only his oath as an officer in the United States Army but his oath as a physician. There was nothing courageous or responsive in his act.

Now back to Timothy McVeigh. When it came out that the Oklahoma City Bombing was the act of a disgruntled former infantry sergeant, my brother Seth and I (both former disgruntled infantry sergeants) struggled to reconcile this to the hundreds of grunts we served with. Eventually we remembered one specific soldier and realized it was possible.

McVeigh met with two reporters from his hometown in upstate New York before his execution for his act of cowardice against men, women, and children in Oklahoma. These ‘Extensive’ interviews that resulted in the book American Terrorist.

Two idiots never made more money being stupid in their lives then these reporters. They apparently believed everything McVeigh told them without any checking.

I will only provide two examples of the many lies McVeigh told and they reported as fact.

First, there is the time McVeigh attempted to sneak into Area 51 in southern ........New Mexico. Yes, McVeigh gives this long story about how he bravely made his way past numerous levels of security as he attempted to gain entrance.

Might have had an easier time if he had been in ........Nevada where Area 51 has been located for the last sixty years.

And then there is McVeigh stated trigger point that he says turned him against the Army and his country.

McVeigh states very simply the final straw that broke his back was when he failed the ‘Q’ course for Special Forces.

Already alerted by the other lies McVeigh told, I still waited until I got a chance to confirm my memory with my brother Seth, a graduate of this same ‘Q’ course that produces our country’s Green Berets, among them my brother.

Unlike the Army Ranger course, the ‘Q’ course requires all candidates to be active airborne.

I have heard Airborne Ranger after Airborne Ranger bitch about how they had to jump into the swamps in Florida during Ranger schools while their non airborne classmates were driven out. Part of the price of being a paratrooper.

But I never heard any similar stories about the ‘Q’ course and the first two phases of the ‘Q’ course were at Ft. Bragg where I was stationed. The final phase involved a parachute jump into a small town in North Carolina where the Special Forces candidates recruited people form the town to help them find an opposition force made up of units from my division, the 82d Airborne. This town takes a lot of pride in their part of the years to train and select who will wear the Green Beret.

McVeigh was never airborne, not even a five jump chump, he never attended jump school and thus was not qualified for Special Forces training. It was all a lie.

So, we know that McVeigh version of why he acted was a lie. Let us not hold our breath about what is said about Major Hasan.

         I made a couple of attempts over the last few weeks to write about relationships with frustrated drafts, leading, with some help from a couple of friends, to some thoughts I am now ready to express.

            I worried that my thoughts were leading to an endorsement of hedonism, a shallow, selfish philosophy placing pleasure as the purpose of life. I never was big on happiness, as my sixteen years of marriage demonstrate.

            Most of my happiness arose out of my children, their joy became my joy. With my divorce, I expanded this to my friends; joy in their successes became my joy.

            I guess there is a little bit of voyeurism in this, the literal type not the psychological. Part of the reason is the reality that my personal life has been fighting external circumstances trying to force me into a holding pattern. Part of it is just my desire to help, and part of it is that I do like to watch.

            As I looked toward my happiness, my puritan heritage raises its ugly head and says happiness is not relevant; I sigh and struggle with a response.

            And the Paradox rescues me and I am reminded that thinking about today is not denying the future and I am reminded of the words of Christ.

 Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?   Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?  Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?   And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:  And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

          
  And I am reminded of my favorite story about Mohammad.

Mohammad met a Bedouin on the road outside of the city leading his camel in. Mohammad preached to the Bedouin, telling him to trust in Allah for all things.

The Bedouin looked at Mohammad, smiled and lifted the reigns of his camel “Trust in Allah in all things?” he asked the prophet, “Then as I enter the city should I tie my camel or trust in Allah that she will be here when I return?”

Mohammad looked at the Bedouin, looked at the camel, and looked back at the Bedouin and said “Trust in Allah and tie your camel”.

 And I look across at my friend as she talked about the wonderful nature of two men she was somewhat involved with and the dilemma of having to make a choice.

And another friend worries that she is going to repeat the bad decisions she believes she made in the past, that as much as she wishes to have fun, to be treated as the special lady she is, she should hesitate and worry.

Part of the American mythology about relationships is the constant need to evaluate in terms of permanency. My parents are celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary in a few weeks and I will bet almost any amount of money that neither my father nor mother spent more then a few minutes on their ‘relationship’ the last forty years. I know my grandparents did not.

For them, in a world where divorce was basically impossible and wisdom revealed there is no such thing as the ‘perfect’ relationship, there was the ‘Now’ of the relationship against the background of a world where children were raised, bills were paid, and the garden tended.

And there was respect and love.

I believe a great deal of the silliness surrounding relationships emerges out of the initial infatuation. There are the feelings of exclusiveness and jealousy. The former should evolve naturally while I will never understand the latter.

I am arguing for the possible realization that relationships can evolve naturally and not necessarily tied to arbitrary social and personal rules such as sex outside of marriage, no kissing until the sixth date, and so on.

As to my first friend with the two gentlemen of different strengths and weaknesses, wouldn’t she be happy if she did not need to make a decision but to allow each relationship to evolve?

Our society has made this almost impossible, at some point one of them is going to demand she chose or her own feelings, which I consider may be misguided, will make such a choice ‘necessary’.

I ask why?  One question keeps coming back to me. “What is the difference in the love we feel for our children, our parents, our dogs and the love we feel for a lover?

Sex is not always the answer; many of our lovers never become lovers in fact, and if anyone wants to say sex defines a relationship, please post that blog.

Again, I am being an idealist and my friend faces tough decisions.

As to the friend undergoing change, she needs to remember how brilliant, beautiful, and funny she is. She needs to remember that while some of her choices did not turn out as she wished, they were not bad decisions. She needs to remember that we all agree the future is hers and it is bright. She has already made the big decision, for a while now, decisions should be treated as small decisions and you do not need to sweat the small ones.

Trust in Allah and tie your camel. Live for the day, follow your bliss, let your world to include relationships evolve while being mindful of your future.

            I remember parked behind the auto shop by Alvarado park in my 1965 Mustang, with the doors open and the soundtrack from “Brigadoon” playing; Linda in my arms and dancing to “Almost Like Being in Love”.

            I remember stuffing eight or nine of us in Linda’s 1969 Cougar and driving to the MacDonald’s on Juan Tabo, the adults watching us pile out as if we were in one of the rings at the circus.

            I remember driving down San Pedro with “Witchy Woman” blasting out of the stereo while Linda stared out at people framed by the fog lifting out of the bowl of dry ice we dropped into a bowl.

            I remember the fights, the parties, the first kiss, the first taste of beer, the feeling that every moment was the moment. I knew my parents could never understand, I knew they had forgotten what it felt like.

            I wonder, I wonder, I wonder, I wonder.

Once upon a time the people lived at the foot of the mountain, near the cave where the leaders conducted government, where the leaders fed the Beast Machine.

The majority of the people lived far enough away from the cave that it rarely entered their thoughts. They knew the Beast Machine lived there, they knew the leaders fed it, and they knew the Truth As Available.

The people lived their lives much as we do. They met, they loved, they married, they had children, and they knew the Truth As Available.

They knew if they were unhappy with their relationship for any reason, they could seek out the Beast Machine and be released from their commitment. The vast majority of the time they could simply tell the Beast Machine what the parties agreed to and the Beast Machine would sanction their division allowing the parties would go their separate ways.

And this is how the many saw the Beast Machine, a slumbering monstrosity waving the blessing of sanction over their heads and issuing the orders ending the relationship, but the people also knew the Truth As Told.

In those rare cases, the anger and the hate the people brought to the Beast Machine awoke the monster and its stupidity. As a slumbering provider of sanctions, the Beast Machine as adequate, but awaken the monster and its limitations quickly appeared.

The people foolish enough to awaken the Beast Machine soon discovered all of their possessions destroyed, the fate of their children decided on the roll of a dice, and their hatred made into a dark object few could overcome. These people returned to the others telling the Truth As Told, the fairy tale, the myth.

            My eyes are too swollen to read tonight, but perhaps I can write.

            Speaking of reading, I am still working through the thirteen volumes of Frazer’s Golden Bough. The work is fascinating but I understand why it was abridged. He provides literally hundreds of examples for each point from cultures all over the world.

            For example, in the Magic Art he discusses the relationship between vegetable and sex and the relationships are extensive among the various cultures. In some cultures an act of sex is required in the fields before the seed is sown the next day (Anyone ever ask about the May Queen?). In other cultures, the opposite is required and any sexual act before sowing the seeds will result in a ruined harvest.

            The work also makes you realize how ethnocentric even the best of us are. It is easier for me to relate to the rituals of the Athenians and even the pueblos then the Mundaris. The former two are familiar, the last is not.

            I finally started The Writer’s Journey, a work by Christopher Vogler on the use of comparative mythology in modern storytelling. The work is stated derivative of the works of Joseph Campbell. Vogler’s work is an absolute joy.

            ....Campbell.... took the work of Frazer and other first generation anthropologists and combined their work on culture with Jung’s work on archetypes and collective unconscious.

            ....Campbell.... would argue the reason why Frazer documented so many examples of the same myths and rituals across the world was because we are all living the same myths.

            The most common myth is the Hero’s journey. The Hero finds herself in her ordinary world only to be offered the chance to escape and face a challenge. Sometimes she is torn out of her world and has little choice but to arise and face the challenge. The journey is made and the challenge faced. As we tend to like happy endings, the challenge is often overcome and the Hero returns home to peace. There are countless variations, countless versions of the same story.

            Along with the Hero, there are other archetypes in the story. There are mentors, guardians (both of the path and the Hero), heralds, allies, tricksters, and countless others.

            ....Campbell.... argued strongly that once we subjected our myths to science or history they lost value. ..Campbell.. argued the modern day Orpheus could be found riding a subway in ....New York.....

            Or sitting in an office in ....Albuquerque.... wrested out of her ordinary world by the events and the actions leading to a divorce. The first challenge is met, but this Hero can not return to the old world. The only path for peace is forward.

            The myths help. They provide a structure, a guide, a realization the journey is new to us but not humanity.

“Ah, the Complexity that is Woman”

                        Stephen A. Avery, 1986

“Whoops!”

                        Stephen A. Avery, 1987

I started downloading individual songs form Amazon over the last few weeks. It did not take long to notice a pattern, “I’ll Stop the World and Melt with You”, “When a Man Loves a Woman”, “Breaking up is Hard to Do”. With the exception of “Pop Goes the Weasel” by Third Base, they were all romance songs.

I put a playlist together; shuffled them and here are the first five.

“Blue Jeans and a Rosary” by Kid Rock

“This is Me Missing You” James House

“Songbird” Fleetwood Mac

“If” Bread

“I Melt With You”

What is on yours?

            Just got off the phone with a very dear friend whose support for me over the last several years meant a great deal to me and I am grateful for the opportunity to provide some support to her as she ends a long-term relationship.

            Several months ago I wrote about the fact that there are three parties to any relationship, the two individuals and the relationship itself. People not only commit to each other but also to the relationship.

            And in our society, in our culture, women more then men. This especially true in some cases if they begin to discover the man’s imperfections and even that he might be a jerk or abuser.

            And they lose themselves, the most beautiful woman in the world will suddenly believe she is unattractive, the brilliant will feel their minds numb, they lose all interest in sex, they suborn themselves to the relationship, to the commitment. When they leave it takes time to restore.

            Why? And again why? This is not something I understand and it fills me with sorrow when a beautiful woman tells me with tears how ugly she is. I want to reach through the line and just provide comfort. Of course this is exactly the wrong thing to do; at least I think so…..

            The more I think about it, Life is about relationships – the relationship between a father and a daughter, a man and a cute waitress, a man and his friends, a woman and her former band mates, and a man and his technology.

            This is going to be a complicated one, but it has been that kind of week. This morning filled up with email, Facebook walls, IM, blogs, and texting. At least the texting was restricted to one person.

            Isn’t technology wonderful?  My twenty two thousand texts a month daughter lost her cell phone Monday until she gets her room restored to something I can live with.

            I made a connection with a waitress a couple of weeks ago (NO, not at Quarters, they are drastically too young). We talked a couple of subsequent times, she gave me her number (the correct one Eric) and we spent the last week texting each day and are going out this weekend. An interesting way to build a relationship, I will let you know how it works out.

            One couple split I thought happened did not. On couple split I thought would happen did not, and one couple I was hoping would not, did.

            In the same way, text and other technology may help one build a relationship, it can be used to erect barriers (Remember my second rule of why guys should text – “She can’t read anything into the tone of your text”).

            At some point, I would like to sit down with the friends and read something into the tones of their voices).

            Partnerships are the most difficult type of relationships known to humanity. My one venture into the mess of a partnership cost me hundreds of thousands of dollars. I am not talking about my ex, although I do not see how marriage can function as anything other then a partnership.

            Antigone Rising broke up about eighteen months ago, before they could release their first studio album. I heard some of the anticipated music when they played at the Zoo, specifically “Crawl”.

            “A vow is still a vow”.

            I fell in love with Cassidy the songwriter and singer. The only member of the band I had a bit of a crush on was Kristen Henderson, but alas, it would have never worked out.

            The song “Hollow” is on my page on MySpace and is one of my favorites.

            After the break up, fate chose me to be in NYC when Cassidy played and not the re-formed Antigone Rising. Fate also allowed me to buy Cassidy a drink at the first show and to spend a bit of time with her new band and her terrific boyfriend “Butch” ....Henderson.... (now fiancé) at that show and subsequent shows.

            Yes, Butch and Cassidy.

            Yes, Henderson (Butch is Kristen’s cousin).

            I care about why Antigone Rising broke up, but the details were never any of my business. Properly, my focus was on the music and a wish that their first studio album “Tales from Wonderland” could make it out.

            It did. The album Cassidy released this weekend under her name and under the name “Sink or Swim” is Antigone Rising’s “Tales from Wonderland”.

            If you want to hear Cassidy’s take on this you can read her blog at The Cassidy Project. The other ladies associated with Antigone Rising have remained publically silent, although there are indications they are working behind the scenes.

            The funny thing is “Don’t Look Back” is the song that brought me to Antigone Rising.  Here is the first part.

Heard you talk about leaving
Heard you talk about leaving before
Heard you talk about giving up on me.

Heard you talk about changing
but talk is cheap and I've heard it all before
Used to be that I'd fall apart
but that don't work no more.

'Cuz you can't leave half way
and I can't let you stay

Chorus:
Take your promise take your pain
Take your restless heart
If you go
go all the way
Don't look back
'Cuz in my heart you've been gone so long
that I won't miss you that bad
If you go
go all the way
Don't look back

            Those who know me understand why this song pointed to a world I would never know, why I cried every time the technology brought the song up on my shuffle.

            A world I will never know, and apparently neither will the current and former members of Antigone Rising.

Cojones