My summer deployment is fast coming to an end, thank Allah. Poor, pitiful me - I was getting downright inconvenienced having to communicate via this mediocre blogspot website, instead of with my own weekly-generated index pages FTP'ed onto Marc Perkel's server. On the rare occasion I've been able to access the internet - on average every six to eight weeks - I had to return to the page you're looking at, and try to generate something interesting.

And being interesting isn't easy under these circumstances. Not for the limited internet access, but because it's no picnic sounding "witty," or anything less than droning, when your summer has devolved into a droning lump of grit & numbness. The only thing you really enjoy on these Ra-forsaken trips is sleep, or, if you're lucky, reading. Which, for the fortunate few, there is time for prior to sleep.

But the reading material was shit. Or maybe I'm just picky. Couldn't find many hard sci-fi novels I'd not previously read, so about half of what I read this summer was junk. Stuff left behind by other GIs. Didn't so much mind Grisham, Demille or Connelly, but the James Patterson got old quick. At least it was free - he'd have to be for most folks, I'd think. I mean, who in the hell would pay 7 bucks for a book even George W. Bush could read in under four hours?

Even worse, I was almost forced to partake of some Robert Jordan crap, based on another GI's apparent lack of understanding when I alluded to "Hard Sci Fi." Of course, I should've expected as much from a rookie Captain (i.e. a dipshit). Maybe he thought, "well, it was hard for me to read - so it must be hard sci fi..." Fucking retard.

Anyway, the summer was probably great for my career, but not the type of thing I want to repeat anytime soon. Half a year of tax free, hazardous duty pay. Not bad. Maybe I'll get a new truck. I'll certainly be ecstatic to again be with my wife & son. It'll be huge to again plop my ass at home and enjoy the relative safety of the American backdrop. I'm looking forward to NCAA & NFL FOOTBALL, the (AL) PENANT RACE, catching up on the Sopranos, and anything else I can enjoy on my massive, HD plasma screen.

Boy oh boy oh boy oh boy....

:)

Am I just a grumpy old man, or does everything about the internet suck?

At this very moment my estimation of blogspot.com as a massive pedazo de mierda is fast solidifying.

Apparently, on blogspot.com, if you neglect your account for awhile, your blog immediately becomes a suspected spam blog, and you get a nifty "Word Verification" feature added for good measure. Can't post without first deciphering one (sometimes two) of those successions of nonsensical letters in warped font.

Pain in my dick.

So, the next time I mosey off to war, I'll be sure to make frequent stops at internet cafes -- after all, the desert is full of them -- and post more often. Gimme a fucking break.

All the more reason to look forward to getting home.

Yagshemesh.

Long time no see!

I'm fine. My guys are fine. We're halfway through our rotation, and we've been too busy to notice ten weeks have flown by.

How busy? Busier than Rush Limbaugh with a pint of Hagen Dazs. Busier than Tom DeLay's corkscrew. Busier than Sean Hannity with a new Seek-a-Word puzzle book. Busier than Bill O'Reilly with a vibrator in one hand, and a phone in the other.

I seem to spend every waking hour working; there's very little time for anything else. Which is good, because there's very little access to anything else -- can't be with my wife. Can't play with my son. Can't catch up with a friend over the phone. Can't watch baseball on the recliner.

But jam out to a good tune? That I can manage.

I don't think I ever appreciated how fine a song Smoke on the Water is until this summer. SOTW was slightly before my time - I was six or seven when Deep Purple published it - but the more I listen to it, the more I appreciate how it must have broken ground. Not lyrically, but structurally. That classic riff (imagine Beavis & Butt-head, in unison, growling, "Duh-duh-duuuuuuh . . . Duh-duh-Du-duuuuuuh . . ." is what you come away with. Not the chorus. Not the verse. A non-instrumental song with an intrumental hook. DP cast tradition aside, resisting the temptation to smother Blackmore's unforgettable riff with lyrics, and broke major ground with Smoke on the Water.

Incidentally, if you're not familiar with the story behind the song, you should look it up (sorry, can't exactly find a good reference for you under these conditions). Frank Zappa most certainly saved dozens, if not hundreds or even thousands, of lives that night. Much unlike the tragedy in Rhode Island three or four years ago -- where a hundred of so people perished because Great White were too cheap to work in a club for which the town would grant a pyrotechnic permit -- the fire that night, and the subsequent evacuation, seems to illustrate how much more mature rock icons of those days were. Maybe the reality of Vietnam and its non-volunteer draft victims woke up the youth of the day. Of course, FZ had more brain cells in his Corpus Callosum than the whole of Great White's collective gray matter, and I'm in no way saying he'd have been any less brilliant in a different era. I'm just sayin'.

Non-Sequitur Sequitur

I love how any character in The Sopranos, when talking to someone he's expected to respect, can get away with blatant insubordination so long as he tacks onto his observation the following three words: "I'm just sayin'." That's become a bit of an inside joke around here. "Sir, that was a really dumb maneuver... I'm just sayin'."

HELL

Taking a short breather at Club Med - not far from work, but much more relaxing. Civilized, even. The food is good. The toilets work. We even have AC.

Yes, it's scorching hot here. Here, 30 clicks north, 200 clicks northwest. Doesn't matter. It's all the same 50+ degrees Celsius (you figure it out), and 50 knot dust storms. We call it 50/50.

But the real hell is the internet. Actually, the lack of access to the internet is hell. I can't even access my own website (many thanks to Marc Perkel, my fearless e-leader, for hooking a brother up) at this point, but not because it's such a popular, tree-hugging e-rag. No, I cannot access my own site because within it I smartly embedded a blog, thinking I could at least blog from over here.

Wrong answer. Blogs are restricted, except as listed below. The hypocrisy within the rules governing these DoD computers is uglier than Ann Coulter's adam's apple.

Random thought: if the GOP had been running things in 1941, would WWII have been a War on Air Strikes?

More computer Woes

No, I'm not done ready to change subjects.

So far my laptop has borne this 120º+ hell with honor (all hail my brave little jerkmonkey, with her magnificent battery stamina and plenitude of porn!), but as there are tons of restrictions on what a GI can access over here, I haven't exactly been inspired to do much with it.

I recently spent some time on a DoD computer, and here is a short list of sites a GI CAN and CANNOT access:

Amazing, flagrant hypocrisy.

I can't wait

Till 2008!

Oh, and one more thing I should get off my bleeding chest before I wrap up and dispatch this to my fearless leader:

FOX News in Southwest Asia

For nearly two decades I've watched and listened to DoD-run television and radio programming while stationed or deployed overseas; I've watched it evolve, and evolved it has.

Just a decade ago you were lucky to get one American TV and radio station in Germany, or South Korea for instance. But now you can watch a handful of themed TV stations (sports, kids, movies, news, etc.), and listen to three or four radio stations in some locales. In fact, a recent study by Lund Media Research showed that most GIs are neither fond of Rush Limbaugh, nor fans of country music. (That's right!) In fact, I seriously doubt as many of us are as fond of Faux News as Faux News would like the civilian population to think.

Nevertheless, FNC constitutes a big chunk of what the DoD has programmed into its news-themed AFRTS TV station. No surprise the DoD gives us what they want us to get, and not what we want. But the odd thing about the blatant FOX News/DoD alliance is what happens during FNC's commercial segments.

Normally, we don't get commercials. DoD Regulation 5120.20R prohibits AFRTS from airing commercials. So we're subjected to a series of 60-second long propaganda bits. Corny, DoD-generated "golly gee" crap. How to make a PCS (moving your family to a new assignment) run smoothly, why it's dangerous to discuss sensitive information on unsecure phone lines, a scrap of trivia about General MacArthur, etc. This regularly-scheduled brainwashing occurs for all programming. Even on the news-themed AFRTS TV station.

Except when they show FOX News. During the 23 hours a day AFRTS' news network airs FNC programming (that might be somewhat exaggerated), we don't get the standard DoD brainwashing crap; we get... more FOX News.

FOX News has built its own repertoire of putatively non-commercial spots to fill the spaces normally occupied by the AFRTS Brain Detergent. The problem is, as I see it, these FNC-generated "golly gee" breaks are all subtly commercial in nature. At least the couple I've seen here in Club Med.

One spot presents basic guidelines for those who wear contact lenses. Don't sleep in them, wash them with this, don't wash them with that. And so forth. But during its presentation we're shown a lab where contact lens cleaner and contact lenses themselves are made. Obviously it's okay to endorse commercial products on a DoD broadcast if you shroud your endorsement in a we really care public service announcement. Oh, and don't spend too much time on that Bausch & Lomb logo...

I need one of the big dog bloggers to expose this crap. I'm not going to be at this particular spot much longer, and as you know my internet access is shakier than Karl Rove's sexuality, so I'm afraid I won't be much help (although, again, I have to hand it Perkel - I can't check my Yahoo email account, or my GMail, but I can sure as hell check my Perkel email! Email me if you learn anything more on this BS!)

Must for to go now, amigos. Hope to return before another month expires. In the meantime, keep advocatin'.

Like most deployed G.I.'s, I get tons of "care packages," letters, and cards from family and friends. But this time around I'm also getting some goodies from my fans. You guys have been sending me all the news I can't access on these #$^@ DOD-run computers, and I'm lovin' every minute of it. Keep 'em comin'!

"Y'ain't got no shoulders!"

If that phrase doesn't mean much to you, and

you're a military guy, I'd have to question your

manhood. Just fuckin' with you, sailor. Chillax.

I see Billow LIEly is at it again. What a delusional clown that little man is, and Faux News is all about re-writing history in another attempt to salvage the "man"'s already dubious credibility. LOL!

And the administration is planning to introduce anti-gay marriage legislation this Monday. Glad to see we've all got our priorities straight. Thank Koresh, because I really think I could lose my wife if homosexuals started marryin' up and all.

Speaking of developing homophobia-related stories, if one of you really wanted to get on my good side, you could send me the last four episodes of The Sopranos. I'm dying to see more of the Vito/Johnny Cakes saga unfold.

Another reader sent me a link to what I assume is a video parody of Katherine Harris election ad. Can't open it, but the guy told me it's goddammed hilarious, so if you're interested, here it is.

I've been toying with the idea of starting a progressive/liberal military blogring. Probably one already exists, but if not I'm all about that. There are lots more of us than you might expect, and when carefully prepared these diaries are just as legal as those from Captain Micropenis, Mr. Badass Soldier, Mountainous Marine Man, and whatever else gay-ass names these penis-envy suffering hardcore rightwingers call themselves.

Is Uncle Sam reading my blog?

You bet your ass they are. Bring it on, I say. Pssht.

Well ma'ams and sirs, I must oil my weapon (hee) and sock my boots (keeps out the camel spiders). Talk at you later.

....

"Conservative Political Correctness"?

Dig into the definition of politics, beyond "the art or science of government" definition, and you'll find something about complex interpersonal relationships or personal bids for power.

Rump Leakage et al have made quite a living whining about the inability of the "politically incorrect" to fit in among various groups of "elitists." Clearly, Pigboy and his lemmings are referring to the complex interpersonal relationships and bids for power definition of politics when they bitch and moan about political correctness.

And so it's no wonder people often sloppily interpret the term "political correctness" to mean "stuff that might not go over too well with a progressive audience." But isn't it possible to be politically incorrect among conservative folks? You know, proclaiming "There is no god!" in Church, "the largest socialist organization in the world is the U.S. Army," or "Ronald Reagan was a delusional old bag of wind" at your local yacht club?

As expected, in the military world there is an entirely different breed of political correctness. Whether you're a green beret, or a paralegal pencil pusher, in the service it's literally politically correct to be, in the sloppily-construed Limbaugh vernacular, politically incorrect.

Yet we G.I.s are taught to be, once again in the Limbaugh vein of thinking, "politically correct." Annually we're required to attend classes like sexual harrassment training (it's called 'Sexual Assault Awareness Training' nowadays), Equal Opportunity Awareness training, and even a "don't ask, don't tell" briefing. On paper we're as progressive as Sweden; in the field we're as crude as the cast of Debbie Does Dallas. Our young, impressionable minds are being taught two, diametrically opposed viewpoints. And you can bet your ass it's having an effect on discipline.

In the 1990s it was easy to discipline a young troop who called another one a "N**ger," or grabbed a young female corporal's ass in the hallway. But these days we're losing ground in this area. Granted, there aren't any American women in my current neck of the woods, but this isn't something I've just noticed over the past 30 days. This flip-flop mentoring of our military youth isn't restricted to the war zone. Worldwide there's a scary trend of NCOs, SNCOs, WOs, and even Jr. Officers looking the other way as FNGs emulate their leaders, many of the same NCOs, SNCOs, and Officers. Guys who long ago ditched the standards of decency and etiquette by which we are regularly reminded to abide.

In the end the current rabid trend of neoconfoolery among military types will do what every other manifestation of neoconnery does: overdose on its own excesses. It's a greedy mindset, and it shall consume itself.

Call me naive, but I sincerely believe the next Bill Clinton administration won't be rejected by military leadership; it'll be greeted by most of our level-headed superiors as a welcome return to our collective senses.

Military Bloggers: Slow Down, Stop Showing Your Ass, and Try Reading as Much as You Write.

One thing currently bothering me is the thousands of highly visible, ultra-right wing military bloggers who have managed to convince the rest of the world our armed forces consist of nothing more than neocon-anderthal double-digit IQ midgets.

Consider the airman who calls himself "Greyhawk," and owns mudvillegazette.com. In this archived rant, putatively critical of American complacency, "Greyhawk" (what a cool name... Anglicized, er, Anglicised spelling and everything!) marvels at the fact most people think Dr. Strangelove is a work of fiction, "a parody even."

No, he's not being satirical himself; he's dead serious. He even provides a reference: this bit of commentary by James Earl Jones.

"I said what?"

Good luck figuring out which part of "Kubrick was a prickly character," "Scott & I disagreed about the Vietnam war," and "let's make sure terrorists don't get ahold of renegade nukes" substantiates Greyhawk's claim.

Kerry Fights Back

Is this a joke?

Is John Kerry finally fighting back? Apparently he's ready to prove the Swift Boat Liars wrong, and has photographic, military archival, and cartographic evidence to boot.

Excuse me, Mr. Pussy, but couldn't you just go away? If you had fought back when it counted, maybe we'd have a few more thousand healthy American G.I.s, fewer nascent terrorist-to-be's, and a more stable Iraq on our hands.

Then again, would such a pushover really be an improvement over what we got now?

..!..

Boy, oh boy, did I ever misunderestimate the access I'd have to this blog while deployed. At this rate I figure I'll spend about 15 to 20 days on the line, and one back "home," catching up on sleep.

Don't confuse my observations here as whining; this is my chosen career, I love what I do, and the people who work for me (though not necessarily those I work for), and my family's not exactly living on food stamps.

But the point I want to make to my (four) loyal readers is this: my site's not sitting stagnant for weeks at a time because I'm blowing you guys off; it's just that I have so little time for even something so simple as a blog. Hell, I can't even access all the stuff I usually check out before preparing an update to my page.

For an idea of what I'm referring to, check out this article. It's 100% accurate, & really sums up the current atmosphere.

On many "public" computers owned and operated by the DOD -- not the ones for official use; the ones we're provided for personal use in our off-time (sic) -- I can access freerepublic.com or drudgereport.com, but not Stephanie Miller, The Liberal Oasis, or The Democratic Underground.

For the past couple of decades (and probably more, but I can only speak to my personal experience) approximately 75% of military folks have been conservative Republicans. That number is dropping these days, but even if it were to rise to 99%, there's a nasty trend among many DOD-run "internet cafes" that will inevitably backfire.

When the next Bill Clinton takes office, and we go into the next Bosnia under his or her direction, you fellow progressives just might be pleasantly surprised how the current disparity in allowed-vs-prohibited internet access will become a hot topic. If folks like me have anything to say about it, you'll see even more about the fact AFN (formerly AFRTS, pronounced A-FARTS) plays Limbaugh's trash, but no left counterpart to the Pigboy. (Thanks to Al Franken and Tom Harkin, this lack of balance has been a story for a couple years already.)

Anyway, for obvious reasons I'm not exactly on top of what's happening back in the states. Of course, you guys know all this, but after two and a half weeks in the shit, it's nice to open up Google News and others like it, and learn that

1. George Bush's approval rating is below 30% (WOW)
2. Rove hasn't been indicted (yet)
3. Tom DeLay has stupidly referenced one of Stephen Colbert's faux rants as "proof" for one of his inane stances (fucking hilarious, that one)
4. Hastert is under investigation (LOL) in the Jack Abramoff scandal

Et cetera. The GOP is still slipping into a political black hole; things haven't changed much in the month since I arrived. I'm loving it.
Oh, and the Jimmy Hoffa thing. Some day soon I'll tell you where his body really is. ;)

Anyway, I apologize for not being able to give you guys any graphic details of my current surroundings (I'm no Benedict Rove), but I can tell you we are all mentally well, physically well, well-tanned (okay, sunburnt), and goddamned fuckin'-a busy.

..!..

First of all, I am well, and we are well. Long gone are the comfy moments in Kuwait City; I'm nowhere near such a relative bastion of modernity.

Obviously, I can't tell you guys much about what I'm doing right now, as I am no traitor Karl Rove. But I can tell you the revelation I'm not some unemployed tree-hugging Vermonter high on 'shrooms, living off the government penny (well, that's debatable), but in fact am a senior member of the armed forces has really gotten under the skin of quite a few colorful characters.

So, with nothing else valuable to throw in at this point, I thought I'd take a moment to entertain you with the ramblings of one such wrapped-too-tight asshole. Behold the warrant officer (sic).

Some CWO, or some such similarly useless bag of shit, emailed me about my current status, cited me for "sedition" (ho! I eat CWOs for lunch - this guy'd be fun). Allow me to take take this opportunity to emulate my hero, the great Bartcop, and submit my first ever "Monkey Mail" entry.

Enjoy!

"Hey, I read your blog. Sorry you're deployed again. But check this out. If you don't like it, Get the F*** out. I am so sick of working with folks sucking down the combat pay and badmouthing the administration every step of the way."

First of all, you, yourself, admit you work with folks who "badmouth the administration," and judging by the fact you're so "tired" of it, I'd venture to say it happens a lot. Ya think this might mean something? Can you remember a GOP administration being so unpopular among military folk?

Secondly, I'm "sucking down combat pay" so jerkoffs like you can enjoy safer skies in which to spend your whopping three-hour hops, corraling folks in and out of the places I permanently occupy.

Third, it's "FUCK," not "F***." Believe me, o brainwashed fool, you will not go to hell if you type out the word "FUCK."

"Please tell me you are not in charge of troops with your screwed up attitude. (I'm praying maybe you're a shop supervisor with a very small section)"

My guys love me, and I've got nearly a hundred of them. Next question?

"I'm working on year 30 and getting ready to deploy the fourth time in four years. I'm proud to know our contributions are keeping your pretty little family there safe. If you don't believe in the mission (from there in dangerous Kuwait) then just do us a favor and get out."

I'm sure your "if you don't believe in the mission" shtick was silenced during Kosovo; all you neocons were pissed Bill Clinton oversaw such a successful operation. So stick the pretense where the sun don't shine, bud. And Kuwait was just a stop; a chance to blog for awhile before pushing out. Try reading it again: "hurry up an wait" was the played-on phrase.

Shit man, I wish I was in Kuwait.

"PS Your parody web site is probably the most sophomoric attempt at humor I ever seen. Here's a hint. If you want to be funny, try to be clever or ironic or maybe try having your kid do your graphics. But then that's how you libs are aren't you. You whine and decry the 'mean-spirited' conservatives, but in your little rat holes where you don't think anyone can see, you demonstrate what hypocritical name-calling buffoons you all are."

Uh, you're the one whining here, chief. I'm minding my own business. No one forced you to point your mouse to my site and read it. I'm just keeping my creative self alive, and you - obviously without imagination or the ability to put your own material together - feel the need to vent on a complete stranger.

"Also, Are you familiar with the term, 'sedition'?"

Ha! Obviously you've spent thirty years not learning a thing but how to point a stick and mash a button. Go out and read a little more than your flight manual sometime.

Think about it: if you're "sick of working with folks badmouthing the administration," it's not them. It's you.

Maybe you just need to get the FUCK out.

Actually, I'm already there (no, not Kuwait).

It took forever - four days, 27 total hours flying time. But we are officially "here." For a loooooooooooong time. Can't tell you where. Sorry - I'm no traitor Karl Rove.

Reading: Sunstorm by Clarke and Blake. Not as good as its predecessor, Time's Eye, but awesome nonetheless.

Listening: Donnie Darko Sountrack. "Under the Milky Way," by The Church slays me every time. Yes, it's a direct descendent of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," but if you're going to be unoriginal and copy someone, I say The Beatles is a wise choice.

Eating: MRE Menu 18, Cajun Rice & Beans. If only this one came with the peanut butter instead of that "cheese spread" crap...

As a military professional I've flown on a lot of aircraft. I've hung out the back of H-53s while firing the GAU-18 (that's a .50 cal for you old-timers). I've suffered those horrid, fold-down plastic C-17 seats for hours at a time. I've watched giant equipment bounce back and forth just inches from my face as the C-141 carrying me jerked to and fro. I've spent many hours sneaking naps just above the internal tanks of Combat Shadows. I've watched, through outrageously overpriced NVGs, men ride up and down rescue hoists as if casually catching elevator rides. I've even pulled 9.1 g's in an F-16 (and thus, technically, weighed over a ton). And I've gone around the world a couple times in the C-5 Galaxy.

The C-5 has a reputation for "breaking." I.e., when a C-5's aircrew wants to find something wrong with their plane, they can easily find something to keep the jet - and therefore them - on the ground for an extended period of time. So, if you're catching a ride on a C-5 to Shitfield, Korea, but on the way are obliged to stop in Hawaii so the aircraft can refuel, you can bet your ass the aircrew will "break" their jet long enough to get in some crew rest and lets-go-play-on-the-beaches-and-check-out-the-babes down time.

It's true - the same jet that "breaks" in Rota, Spain for two days manages to get off the ground a couple hours after stopping for petrol at Baghdad International. Just an example of course.

Most troops, myself included, like the C-5 because, despite its suspiciously fastidious track record it's usually the most comfortable ride. Set up like a regular airliner, only facing backwards (and with about 95% fewer windows), it beats the hell out of the cargo strap and plastic seats typically found elsewhere.

But twenty-seven hours of flying on anything will drive a man to drink.
Which I must do now...

After eighteen years of putting up with dozens of TDYs and deployments I've gotten fairly numb to this sort of thing.

But it still stings.

The Baltimore Aquarium, 2004.

In ways, the buildup for a lengthy deployment is a lot more nerve-wracking than the deployment itself. The week-long melodrama of scrambled errands, the increasingly anal & bureaucratic labyrinth of outprocessing, and finally those creeping hours of hurrying-up-and-waiting. Not to mention flying for two days. By the time you get there, you've been ready to get there for days.

Briefly listened to Rump Leakage and Shemp Hannity today. Boy, those guys are delusional.

Rush insists he surprised everyone with his plea deal, and that liberals are upset he didn't do any time. But, as I explained (below), no serious adult thought he was facing jail time. The political touchdown is ours - albeit a defensive one - and now Pigboy is tap-dancing to boast how we only settled for a PAT ("notice how the lefties didn't go for a two-point conversion?").

Shemp is still my favorite - tries to sound profound, comes off idiotic, keeps me in stitches. Said "can't see the forest through the trees," and probably always mangles that one (it's "for the trees," you neocons), but I didn't hear his hilarious Niger pronunication - "nay-ZHEER" - instead of the correct "nee-ZHAY" or "nee-ZHAIR." He did whine about that Spanish Star Spangled Banner, though. Such important matters on Hannity's struggling mind...

Gotta pack tonight. Not easy cramming six months of stuff into two bags. Laptop, of course, going with me. Let's hope it holds up.

Thanks, Rump Leakage, for the comic relief. No, not when you're trying to be funny, but when you're trying to be cool. ROFLMAO! You are a fool.

I just opined at length on my usual index page (which you'll find here), so no need to repeat it all now. Just know that you are one of life's greatest gifts: someone who, in taking himself so seriously, provides the sane world an occasional source of sheer hilarity.

And, in the fake smile department, Tom DeLay kicked your ass, dude. How's it feel to be beaten by a lush? Oh wait. . .

I've seen more convincing smiles on Easter Island.

Man, I'm beat tonight. Whatever happened to the days when processing for a deployment could be accomplished in a day? I guess, like the days when we had enough people and equipment to do our job productively and comfortably, they're long-gone.

Can't write much, or even especially cogently when I come home zapped & anxious about this upcoming "vacation" to warworld.

SO... time to rest on my laurels: check out this nifty image . . .



:)

I might have invested in the wrong blogging platform. Well, invested time, that is. I guess you get what you pay for monetarily.

This blogspot crap is pissing me off.

First, it was the image of the VLA. With normal HTML I couldn't size the thing right, so I had to operate in the non-HTML-user window and manually resize the goddamned thing, using preview, until I got it just right. What blogspot rocket scientist decided NOT to allow simple HTML during image insertion? Instead of your basic width & height instructions, you've got to calculate the "scroll method:hand" ratio (or whatever the hell that shit was) - otherwise the image is not proportionately correct. If I had time to learn new HTML commands, and fuck with a calculator during image adding, would I be FUCKING BLOGGING?

Second, after all that work, my blog reverted back to what it was about an hour ago. No, I did not accidentally click "recover post," or anything else that should have triggered that potentially catastrophic event. Fortunately I'm in the habit of ctrl+A, ctrl+c everything before I move to the next screen, so I actually saved my post.

Seriously, if I'm finding this shit is so user-unfriendly at home, how in the hell am I supposed to maneuver through it while living in a tent?

Where's my dog? I need something more reactive than a ball to kick. As Junior said in the first episode of The Sopranos this season, GOD FUCK IT ALL.

LOL.

Every Friday's a "good Friday."

Right?

Am I right?



The Very Large Array - at least part of it (17 dishes not pictured here). Took this shot about six years ago. I love the Southwest.

Two weeks to go...