Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

So,

 

I decided it was time to get another post out there.  There have been two things on my mind recently and I think those are the things I will address.

 

I suppose I ought to say something about R&R.  It has been alright.  Actually, it has been great.  I am not sure how to properly describe the whirlwind that this whole thing has been. 

 

It is a real trip that you can get on a plane at Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan and about three days later walk through your front door.  You go from a world with fighting and killing and all that suffering that goes on over there to walking through your front door and playing with your children. 

 

Something that definitely made it real is while we were all out there waiting on the flight-line to hop on the massive transport that took us from Bagram to Kuwait I saw two HMMWVS with two flag-draped coffins.  Then I saw the soldiers lining up for a Fallen Comrade Ceremony.  Then I realized one of the other transports lined up on the flight-line had Dover on its tail.  Dover is where they fly all the fallen for processing.  Anyway, the whole point of this is I realized that those of us going on R&R weren’t the only ones starting the long trip home.  I was going home to spend some time with my family, and two of my brothers were going home in boxes.

 

This whole trip has been great overall but it has been slightly dampened by the terminality of it all.  It is hard to enjoy oneself too much with the realization unspoken yet inescapable realization that it is only for a couple of weeks. 

 

Some highlights:

 

I got to know Danny and Danny got to know me.

 

I got lots of Emmy snuggles.

 

I got to spend quality time looking for animals and dinosaurs with Porter.

 

I had the chance to spend over a half hour chasing model trains along their line at the Ogden Union Station Train Museum. 

 

I got to spend some time with my wonderful wife.

 

I got to get away from it for a while.

 

Again, however, it is a little bittersweet because it was a brief reprieve.  It will definitely be a struggle going back.

 

The second thing I have been thinking about a lot lately is the whole not coveting thing.  There isn’t really a whole lot that anybody else has that I want.  I would love the financial freedom to be able to travel extensively and occupy myself with deep thoughts and humanitarian service, but really that is unrealistic so I am not overly hung up on it.

 

My struggle has been that I want to be able to write, and not just write, but write great things.  I have to some degree coveted the abilities of the great writers I admire.  I am beginning it is ridiculous to expect to do things like my favorite writers (Dostoevsky, Pasternak, Nabokov, and such).  I recently read The Master and Margarita by Bulgakov.  Great book.  Bulgakov was satirically and obliquely critical of the Soviet government.  His plays and other works were banned.  He asked permission of the government to either emigrate, or be able to work somehow as a writer within the establishment.  Stalin called him personally and asked him to stay.

 

Bulgakov gave up on his ever being able to make a living as a writer in the Soviet Union, or at least the type of writer he wanted to be.  He worked in the Master and Margarita nearly 11 years.  It was not completed at the time of his death.  His wife gathered the manuscripts and notes years later and the book was published abroad and was instantly popular underground in Russia.  Many of Bulgakov’s idiomatic critiques of life in the Soviet Union slipped immediately into common usage.  The book was finally published, severely redacted, after the Soviets realized they could not subvert its influence.

 

Anyway the point of all this is Bulgakov, considered one of the great Russian writers of the 20^th century, died believing he was a failure, and his life’s work was fruitless.  The greater point to me is it took him 11 years to write his Magnum Opus and he never saw it published.  How should I expect to do nothing but dream and think through plots, and do nothing, and expect greatness.

 

I think the closest comparison I can come up with is the attitude of John Nash as portrayed in A Beautiful Mind, where he spent all his time trying to come up with a unique, innovative idea. 

 

I want to write but I want everything I do to be innovative, different, and great.  Not to compare myself to a genius like Nash, but essentially it is the idea of expecting my first work to be worthy of the Nobel Prize for literature.

 

It is arrogance and naivety of the worst sort.

 

As I was thinking about all this I came up with an thirdish topic.

 

War will always be the stupidest way possible to solve problems.  There is no human endeavor more futile, senseless, and wasteful.  However, it must be noted that it is actually occasionally a solution, and even more rarely, the only viable solution, to some very serious issues.  Still, it is a waste and a travesty.  I think those who have truly embarked to do battle, with pure motives, will be the first to reject war and embrace peace, when the time for peace has come.  Anyone who would pursue war for any ulterior reason whatsoever can rot for all I care.  War for the pursuit of economic benefit, plunder, territorial expansion, any of that, is criminal.  The only good reasons for war are to protect the innocent, free the oppressed, defend life and liberty and family.

 

Enough ranting. 

 

Lately I have been in a pretty big funk and I have been reading some stuff that affected me greatly and I plan to focus on that my next post.

 

Peace.

 

Midlife

I think we are all flawed in some way or another. Maybe that is one of the most essential aspects of human existence. I also think that we are only really able to understand and make meaning of life through our own personal experiences. We are not necessarily completely self-absorbed (or at least we should strive not to be) but we really do see things one way, our own way. Perhaps occasionally we have are touched by a higher power that gives us a clarity we would not ordinarily have, but generally speaking, each one of us lives in his or her own me-centric universe. I have often wondered if others experience things the same way I do. Is blue for another person the same as blue to me. Are the shades all the same? Does a rose smell the same to everyone. Theoretically our sensory perceptions are all similar so all the things that we experience with our senses should be similar, but are they identical? I wonder if senses are like languages, where there are words that generally convey similar concepts across the linguistic spectrum. I have found that some things translate directly, like objects. Ideas however often do not translate directly. Perhaps that is the way it is with everything. Maybe our own individual ways of participating in the life experience are somewhat unique, and therefore do not translate precisely to others.

I start all this out because the more I experience, the more I develop, the more I realize how flawed I am as an individual.

My mom died when I was 11 years old. I think I was pretty close to my mom and it was pretty difficult for me. I have sort of built a mental barrier between the life I had before she moved on, and the life I now live. I can move beyond the barrier, but the images on the other side are not usually very clear. They are hazy, out of focus. With effort I could perhaps find clarity in the memories, but I think there is an at least subconscious, if not overtly conscious fear of the pain that could come with renewing that loss.

I mention all this because I think I definitely changed a lot when my mom died. It is as if I decided to be a man. I am not saying that I grew up immediately, but I think that in some ways I made a transition that should take years in a matter of days.

I married relatively young and was blessed with a wonderful family almost immediately. I think a part of me, was definitely not ready for all that.

My mom was 34 when she died. I am 29.

These two ideas I think sometimes combine in my mind to make me feel like a failure. Sometimes I look at my life and see nothing but failures.

We like to make lists. We like to map our lives and set goals and watermarks and we like to compare those lists to those around us. We like to wear our individual accomplishments like badges.

If I were to look at the list of things that a younger Joe would have made, some of the things would be checked off. Mission: check. Temple marriage: check. Family: check. There are a lot of things checked off. There are a lot that are not though, and for some reason it seems those are the ones we focus on. Graduate from college: blank. Become a spiritual giant: blank. Become a famous writer and change the world: blank.

A lot of the things that I have failed to check are probably unrealistic. They are highly idealized and romanticized.

What I occasionally realize in moments of unusual clarity is the importance of the things that have been checked.

Mission: two years in Siberia, serving a people I truly came to love, a people I still love. I miss the hard cold drab streets of Novosibirsk. I miss the hills and trees of Tomsk and Krasnoyarsk. I even miss Omsk, a city that truly hated us. I grew so much and had so many opportunities. I got to serve. I grew so much spiritually. I really developed into the person I am now there. One of the people I most look up to is Dostoevsky. After a sentence of death for conspiracy against the emperor was commuted, he spent five years in Siberia, in Omsk. It is interesting that the place where I probably grew the most in all my life is the place where he endured hard labor for five years.

Siberia is where they sent the dissenters, the troublemakers. Akademgorodok, outside of Novosibirsk, was probably the scientific center of the Soviet Union. Many great minds were shaped in the shadow of the taiga, sheltered from the blasting wind and punishing ice of long Siberian winters. That is where I grew up.

In the Army I have had opportunities I would have never imagined. I have been to Afghanistan twice. I have been to Germany once. I have seen and done things I would have never imagined. Many of them nobody but very few people will ever know about. I could have never imagined the things I have accomplished. Never.

My family, it has a big check with a circle around the whole thing, and is underlined three times, is wonderful. I have a beautiful, intelligent, wonderful wife who supports me and is incredibly patient. I have four beautiful children.

I suppose the deal with all this is it seems we tend to downplay the value of the things we have checked off of our list, and stress about the things that are not checked.

The success of our lives will not be determined by what boxes we have checked. It will be determined by who we are, what we have become. Really, the things we have done are only significant in that they shape and mold us. All that is good comes from God so what credit do we really get for the good things we do anyway? Our failures however are our own. I guess that might be where grace comes in. The good in us is Gods. The bad in us is our own. He uses His goodness to elevate us. His goodness is greater than our badness.

There are so many things that I have accomplished, that I have had the opportunity to do, by the grace of God, that were never on any list.

Enough.

We should allow our righteous aspirations, the ones that have not been checked, to serve as motivation to grow. We should seek to check them off. We also must never let our accomplishments define us. The Dead Sea is huge. It is one of the largest lakes in the world. It is dead though. It is stagnant. There is more life in a small pond where the water is fresh and moving, than in the whole of the dead sea. Life is motion.

Keep moving.

Back in sage and tan and...

Well,

I've been a long time gone. Definitely too long. Honestly, maintaining a blog is a very difficult thing for me. One of the primary reasons is I always feel like I need to have something extremely meaningful or profound to say. I would hate for any of you (if anybody actually reads all this anyway) to waste your time on fluff.

Anyway, for any who are wondering, the title is a reference to the wonderful digitally pixelized colors of the Army Combat Uniform, which I have the privilege to wear daily over here. I am not really sure what color it actually is but...

Anyway, not much is going on over here. Well, I am sure a lot is going on over here, but not much is really going on in my little sphere of operation. I am going pretty much stir crazy. I feel like I am in a cage. It may come as a surprise to some out there but I really like people and I enjoy working with people. I think my pessimism might be occasionally confused for misanthropy. Oh well. Just shows that people are more complex than they appear. Layers. Onions... parfaits... I am probably an onion but that is alright. We all add our unique flavour to the human experience. Anyway, back to the tracks (another issue with blogging is I have an awful habit of becoming derailed). I absolutely hate Bagram because most of us are detached from the reality of Afghanistan. We will never see what it is about the people of Afghanistan that makes them worth saving. They will never see the children. They will never see the crouching cowering of blue-burqa-ed women, backs turned to the road, escaping the gaze of strangers.

Anyway, there is that saying that "a mind is a terrible thing to waste." I am discovering that a mind is a terrible thing. I have been lost in mine for the last month and a half or so and that is the reason for my silence. I have discovered that when I am able to lose myself in some sort of cause or service, when I am able subvert the ego, I am a much happier person. My greatest struggle with my mission here is most of my work goes on inside my head. I am unable to escape. The walls of my mind are in many ways more confining than the walls of the facility I work in, or even the Hesco/Concertina wire barriers that keep the bogeymen out. With my mind, the bogeymen are on the inside.

Anyway. Just some thoughts. None of them are complete. Some will likely be revisited. Some should probably be completely discarded.

More forthcoming.

Peace.

The Fallen...

Hey All,

It has been a long time since I have posted. I guess I didn't really feel I had a lot to talk about. Actually, I think more realistically I have too much to talk about and I have not wanted to do a disservice to things that are important to me.

Bagram Airfield (BAF) is a big, loud, dusty, windy place. I work night shift. Basically I wake up, read my scriptures, shower, type off some type of deal to Ruth, go to work for 12 hours, come home, call home, workout at the gym, and try to sleep. Every five to six days I get a night off. Sundays I have Church. The mission I have is generally not overly challenging or fulfilling but it is necessary and I occasionally manage to do something that could potentially have an impact (take that to mean what you will).

Now for the meaning of the post title.

BAF is the last stop for all of the fallen sailors, soldiers, airmen, and marines killed in Afghanistan, before they start the long journey home to the loved ones they have left behind. Occasionally (far to often it seems) we have what is called a "Fallen Comrade Ceremony." Basically, what happens is everybody who is available lines up on Disney Road (the main road running through the base) and comes to attention and salutes the coffins as they pass down Disney from Mortuary Affairs to the flight line. The opportunity to honor my fallen comrades is probably the greatest privilege I will ever have in the military. My mission is such that I often feel detached from the fight. I don't even really feel like I am in Afghanistan. I could just as easily be at Dugway Proving Ground. Seeing the flag-draped coffins pass on the back of a HMMWV (Humvee) reminds me why I am here and why my mission is important. It makes me feel blessed to know that my small sacrifices, the things asked of me, will likely ensure that fewer of my fellow service-members take that last-long trip.

Juxtaposition

I noted earlier that I have been watching way too much of The Office lately. I am totally hooked. Basically, at this point, I am just trying to get through the rest of Season Three and finish the unfortunately short Season Four so I can focus on all kinds of self-improvement and that kind of stuff. In my opinion, the people who write that show are total geniuses. What I have noticed more than anything (and maybe it stands out so much because I have seen so many episodes in such a short time) is the use of juxtaposition. There are so many situations where one character is dealing with some kind of a problem (often relationship issues) and the situation is either mirrored, or contrasted by another character. I would love to spend a whole week writing down examples, but I would really be wasting a whole lot of time. It is funny, and frustrating, that I have always wanted to be a writer, and the last few weeks I have realized how much I would enjoy writing reviews and essays on books, movies, or even TV shows. The only problem is I totally suck. Oh well, I guess it gives me something to think about. I wish I wasn’t interested in so many things. It would make deciding what to study and all that much, much easier.

Anyway.

Peace.

So, I just remembered that the names of episodes also have multiple meanings. It is all so well contrived. Wow.

Wasting my time...

One of the many challenges most soldiers face during a deployment is boredom. It seems you are either very, very busy, or you have absolutely nothing to do. I guess that is where the whole discipline thing ought to take over. Honestly, I am not doing so hot with that right now. I have spent quite a bit of time running and working out and stuff, which is a good thing, but also quite a bit of time with my friends from Dunder Mifflin and eating junk food. I know I have announced an intent to quit the crap food, but some days go better than others.

So the challenge is to find the most appropriate way to deal with the boredom. I think that this next year will be a great opportunity for me to grow. The struggle is staying focused on the things that matter most.

I have some goals that I would definitely like to accomplish. I want to run my two mile in under 14 minutes. I want to be able to do 20 pull-ups. I want to lose at least 30 pounds. I want to get all my GEs out of the way so I can come home and finish school as quickly as possible.

This next year will probably be the most challenging time of my life. I will have certain duties and responsibilities that will be mandated by leadership, but I will also have the opportunity to improve myself.

I have been given a year to grow. I have to leave my family and many of my personal comforts. I will in many ways be less than a prisoner. One thing that becomes clearer to me with each day is the sacrifices that are made in the name of freedom. I think it would be fair to say that soldiers will potentially sacrifice life, liberty, and pursuit of their own personal happiness, in the name of freedom.

I struggle sometimes because I struggle to understand my country. I have very strong ideals and are sometimes ashamed at the things that are done under the auspices of security, freedom, and democracy.

I don't understand war. I don't know all the reasons we fight. I believe we, as a people, have a long, long way to go towards pursuing that elusive "more perfect union." I don't know all the reasons and motivations for the wars we are now fighting. What matters most to me is I fight because I believe in America, at least in the dream of what America could, and should be.

Anyway. My family has sacrificed much. They will sacrifice even more before this is all through. I will no longer waste my time.

I will however still allow myself some time with Michael, Pam, Jim, Stanley, Angela, Phyllis, Meredith, Dwight, Creed, Oscar, Toby, and all my other pals at Dunder Mifflin. Just maybe not quite so much.

Peace.

The Written Word

I said it would be easier for me to pick a favourite book. It is. Sort of. I have a few favourites. There are reasons for each.

Les Miserables is always way up there on my list. I love Les Miserables because it is, in my opinion, the ultimate epic of redemption. I generally love romantic literature, and Hugo is the master of Romantic novelists. If I were too ever get a tattoo, it would likely be the numbers 24601. It is a goal of mine to someday read Hugo in French.

Lolita. People usually give me crap about this one. They can't get past the whole pedophile thing. Granted, Humbert Humbert is definitely one sick pervo, but Nabokov is the master of prose, and Lolita is his masterpiece.

Doctor Zhivago - I have to write about this one later. I don't even know where to start. If I could recommend one book, this is it. Boris Pasternak. Doctor Zhivago.

Anything by Dostoevsky. I have never had a book mess with my head like Crime and Punishment did when I read it as a senior in high school. The Brothers Karamazov is probably the most perfect novel ever written. The Idiot is awesome, albeit very, very Russian. Dostoevsky is a great story unto himself. He once stood in front of a firing squad, sentenced to death for subversion. His sentence was commuted to hard labour in Siberia. His insights on capital punishment, which occasionally arise in his books, are hauntingly personal. Dostoevsky, more than anybody, shaped my stance on capital punishment. I will write on that, as well as Dostoevsky later.

I would also have to recommend Reading Lolita in Tehran, by Azar Nafisi, and The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini. I will hit these books, along with Chaim Potok's Asher Lev books, later. I am not procrastinating. I just want to do my research.

These are my suggestions. I recommend any of the above-mentioned books. I am always open to suggestions as well. I am always looking for a great book.

Peace.

re: Still on the Wagon

For those who have possibly become worried about me, I have not really been not sleeping lately. I am also not really concerned my Platoon Sergeant is trying to eat my spleen and I do not have a case of the itchies. I was just reading about heroin withdrawal and amplifying my sugar withdrawal symptoms in a failed attempt at humour.

I sincerely apologize to any recovering heroin addicts I may have offended (however since nobody actually reads this blog, I guess I am not really all that concerned).

Peace.

Still on the Wagon

Well,

I have been off the sugar for about 20 hours now. I think I am doing pretty well, aside from the random muscle cramps. I think my Platoon Sergeant is trying to kill me because he wants to eat my spleen, but otherwise I am doing awesome. I itch all over and have not slept in 72... I mean 48 hours but, hey, life is great.

Peace.

Sugaholics Anonymous

Hello. My name is Joe, and I'm a sugarholic.

Just so you know, I'm quitting sugar, at least high-sugar products. The way they make food nowadays it would almost be impossible to quit sugar (at least in the Army). But candy and pop and all that great stuff. No more. Same with chips and fries and junk. I will need support. I have not figured out how you can stage an intervention via blog yet but if you can figure it out...

Anyway, any of you who are becoming cardiologists or dentists probably think this is a bad idea as it could cost you a rather profitable customer. Tough beans. My pancreas will thank me.

Peace

Favorites

Hello everybody!

So, I have been thinking the last little while about trees and birds and little bunnies and stuff like that and also about my favorite things (I prefer the British ou spelling in general so perhaps I should say favourite things -- even though the stupid blogger spell-checker thingy does not like favourite). I have come to the conclusion it is very difficult for me to list my favourite things. I really like books and music so those probably top the list, at least in the arena of humanly created objects. In the arena of music however, I cannot even come up with a favourite genre.

I guess my favourite music group would have to be U2. Among U2 songs, however, it is extremely difficult for me to chose a favourite. I think "God Part II" has probably influenced me more than any other U2 song, probably more than any one song period. A lot of my semi-radical social ideals were likely awakened by the lyrics (lyric as they would say in Ireland) to that song. I really like "Running to Stand Still" and "One Tree Hill", and even "Exit". "Bad" is just awesome. My favourite U2 love song is definitely "All I want is You" (which is not really all that difficult because it seems most U2 songs that are your Prom Theme type songs aren't really that great of love songs if one actually listens to the lyrics).

John Lennon's "Imagine" is among my favourite non-U2 songs but that is kind of way too popular, so that just seems too easy. I really like "Disarm" by the Smashing Pumpkins. The entire Toxicity album by System of a Down blows my mind. It is likely my favourite non-U2 album but I think the Cranberries' No Need to Argue is also a great album. The Counting Crows Films about Ghosts is great too but it is a greatest hits collection so it doesn't quite count. My favourite Country song would definitely have to be "The Dance" by Garth Brooks.

As I have been typing too, many songs have run through my head, trying to make their case for #1. Five for Fightings' "Superman", "9 Crimes" by Damien Rice, both awesome. "Welcome to the Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance. I almost forgot about the Killers, who are probably my favourite new group out there... I give up. Music rules. Tomorrow I will write on books. That should be easier. I have definitely read far fewer books than I have listened to songs.

Anyway. If any of you out there are more decisive than me, and have some favourite song recommendations, or any music recommendations in general, I would appreciate them.

Peace.

Waxing Political

I apologize in advance for the possible triteness of this post. I am a little grumpy and that tends to intensify the causticity of my rantings.

I noticed yesterday that one of my friends on Facebook has joined a group called Stop Hillary Clinton: (One Million Strong AGAINST Hillary). I am not particularly a Hillary Clinton fan, but I cannot help but wonder what the purpose of such a group could be. In my opinion it would be much more prudent to put any effort toward supporting whatever candidate you believe in than to join some organization dedicated to preventing the candidacy of somebody you don't like. I tend to wonder how many of the people that would belong to such a group know the reason why exactly they are so violently against Hillary Clinton. It would seem to me that there are people in both parties in much more prominent political positions than Senator Clinton who are guilty or corruptions, failures, and atrocities she has not even approached. Anyway... I guess it is all about what makes you feel hapy about yourself.

I personally like Obama. I liked Bill Richardson too, but he was obviously a long, long, long shot. The thing that really got me for Obama was his statement that he would engage nations like Iran and Cuba in dialog. I know that our policy of thumbing our noses at countries and saying we won't talk to them on any terms but our own has worked so well in the past. Especially when we are "friends" and have valuable trade agreements with such bastions of freedom and protectors of human rights as China, Paki(let's prosecute rape victims for adultery)stan and Saudi (don't even get me started) Arabia. I guess Caveman (walk drunkenly and flail madly about with a 40 pound club) Diplomacy has worked marvelously for us the last few years.

Anyway, enough. US Foreign Policy always gets me going. Who needs consistency, right.

Have a nice day.

Invictus

"Invictus" was written by British poet William Ernest Henley. Henley contracted tuberculosis of the bone at age 12. He eventually had to have a foot amputated as a result. Still, he led a long, fruitful life. (Click here to read Wikipedia article about William Ernest Henley)

I feel this poem exhibits a wonderful defiance in the face of adversity. Please check it out.

Invictus

Personal Request

Howdy howdy. I have a little request. If you happen to, by some misfortune, actually know me personally, I request that you refrain from posting comments of a personal nature. I appreciate hearing from all y'all and stuff, but I would prefer if you sent personal comments to my e-mail.

Peace, and thank you.

Poetry

I love words. I love poetry. I think I will occasionally post a poem here or there. I love this one by Yeats. It is a good one. Enjoy!

An Irish Airman Foresees his Death

Introduction...

Hello,

My name is Joseph. I am called Joe or Merkley or Merk. I am a husband, a father, a dreamer, and a soldier, basically in that order. I am also an idealistic, and like most idealists, a fool. I joined the Army not long after 9/11. I did not join the Army for glory, or honor, or revenge. I joined the Army because, as I mentioned earlier, I am a dreamer, an idealist, and a fool. I joined the Army because I believe in freedom, truth, and justice. I firmly espouse the values of liberte, egalite, fraternite.

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (commonly called the Mormons), and as such I consider myself a Christian. There may be those who argue with that assertion but that is of no significance to me. I believe in Jesus Christ as my personal Savior. I believe him to be an example of perfect manhood. No man or woman has the right to judge the depth or sincerity of my faith. I seek in no way to defend or justify my beliefs. I know all too well that even the mighty and learned are unworthy of and incapable of sufficiently expounding and defending the truth. The Lord himself was often unsuccessful in convincing others of the veracity and justness of his "good-news", particularly in the case of those who considered themselves wise and learned in matters of religion.

Though I am a soldier, I am no lover of war. I am a lover of peace and freedom. I believe that the basic principles on which this country were founded were inspired of God. I believe every human being born into this world to be a child of the same God. I do not believe that the rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are the inherent rights of all people, regardless of national origin, gender, or ethnicity. I believe habeus corpus to be a divinely appointed and just right. I believe that torture is in all cases wrong. I believe that Americans, especially members of the United States Military, must treat all men, women, and children, to include the enemy, in a humane manner. I believe that anybody who promotes the denial of rights such as habeus corpus, who would advocate any practice that even borders on torture, who would deny constitutional and divinely appointed rights in the name of security, or justifies them as being necessary in the prosecution of the "Global War on Terror" is gravely mistaken and is doing much to support the cause of those terrorists we would seek to prevent, stop, and destroy. I believe that America will be great as a nation only if we hold ourselves to a ridiculously high standard. If we would be a light unto the world, a beacon of freedom and democracy, we must unwaveringly espouse and defend the principles of same. As I said, I am an idealist, a dreamer, and a fool.

My intent in starting this blog is to give me a clearinghouse for various thoughts and rants that might come to mind. If anybody reads what I have to write, good, I hope you benefit. If you disagree with something I have to say, I respectfully ask you to approach me in a productive manner. I welcome criticism, but please make it productive. I enjoy didactic and dialog. My only disclaimer is everything I write is based on my personal perceptions. I do not claim that my thoughts are representative of the LDS Church, the US Army, or any other organization to which I may belong or which I might mention.

Peace.