twenty-two seconds to live

Forget McCain/Palin…

Cutman/Gutsman ’08!

So yeah I’ve been lusting after this watch for awhile:
 
I finally ran into one in person, at the Macy’s in La Jolla.  I got to try it on and everything.  It was pretty awesome, I heart it.  Someone buy me one. 

On September 11th, 2001, I was far, far away from The United States of America.  Where I was, it was the middle of the night but I was wide awake.  I was wearing a bullet-proof vest and had a 12-gauge shotgun slung over my shoulder.  I had been up for about 20 hours, and had several more in front of me before I was going to get any sleep.  The night watches were longer than usual – that was because the same number of people had to stand more of them than they used to.

Things had been a lot rougher in the past year, ever since the U.S.S. Cole was bombed in the port of Aden, Yemen.  17 sailors were killed that day, and we were rightfully still a little rattled – and determined to not be surprised again.

But there I was, night time but not dark.  The decks and pier were blindingly illuminated by countless high-power lights.  The only noise was the waves lapping against the side of the hull.  Then the radio squawked to life.

“Topside rover, OOD.”

I keyed the microphone and said, “Topside rover.”

“Topside rover, OOD.  Lay to the quarterdeck.  Out.”

I figured the OOD probably needed to take a piss or something.  Boy was I wrong.

The 24 hours after that moment are a blur.  There was no time to mourn the nearly 3,000 people who had died back home.  We were fully manned, loaded with missiles, and out to sea before the sun set on the next day.  During the four years that followed I would average 270 days per year on deployment.  I saw a lot.  Lots of bullets and missiles and flares and little blips on the screen that in some way represented other people.  I had all the empathy for them as I did for Blinky, Inky, Pinky, and Clyde.

I tell you one thing is certain – the U.S. Military is an incredibly overwhelming force.  It is enormous.  It is fast.  It can reach through space and knock on your door with a missile that flips you off before it levels your entire neighborhood.  It can do this because somewhere a thousand miles away some 22-year-old kid who was good at video games is terrified of being the guy who blows the strike.

It is now 7 years later.  Over 4,000 people that I was proud to call brothers and sisters in arms are dead.  Many I knew, most I didn’t.  Over 30,000 have been permanently disabled – lost limbs, been disfigured, or otherwise wounded in some terrible fashion.

I have no idea how many are now suffering or will in the future suffer from PTSD or similar mental illness, but I know for sure it’s at least one.

There is a man running for President.  He’s a man I’ve met.  He’s a man who, years ago, was listed as one of my heroes on my MySpace profile.   He is a genuinely inspiring man, a hero to this country, and a man of overwhelming gravitas and character.

I’m talking, of course, about John McCain.

Under no circumstances can I, in good conscience, support the idea of this man being President of this great country.

He thinks this should go on forever.

The Paris Peace Accords were signed in January 1973.  He was released by his captors in North Vietnam in March of 1973.

I wonder where he’d be now if Lyndon Johnson had felt that U.S. troops could spend 100 years in Vietnam?

I wonder where he’d be now if Henry Kissinger had gone to Paris and said the U.S. was going to stay the course?

John McCain thinks you are stupid.

He thinks you aren’t paying attention.

He thinks if he lies enough, if those around him lie often enough, you will start to believe him.

He wants you to think that the troops want to be in Iraq, that they want to “finish the job.”

I have never met a single service member who was genuinely excited about his or her duty in Iraq, unless they were simultaneously completely succumbed to psychopathy.

He wants you to think we can “win” the occupation of Iraq.

You can’t win an occupation.

There is an endless litany of reasons not to vote for John McCain.  This is just one of them.

Prove to your friends, your country, and yourself that you are not as dumb as John McCain’s political machine thinks you are.

Vote for Barack Obama in November.

If you can’t make yourself do that – for whatever reason – then please stay home.

Stay home and pray.

Things I have done recently, in no particular order:

• Learned AutoIT.
• Finally coaxed my 22stl.com mail into working on my BlackBerry.
• Went surfing for the first time, and got all the way upright no fewer than 3 times.
• Worked myself into a nerdy frenzy anticipating Google Chrome.
• Owned some random chumps in Soul Calibur IV online, bringing my win/lose ratio to better than 50%.
• Added early-morning lap swimming to my meager fitness routine.
• Trimmed my ridiculous sideburns.
• Had a generally wonderful life with a wonderful family in a wonderful city.

I think I’ll go on a writing binge, working on several posts, stories, articles, and other projects over the next week or so, ultimately culminating in a loss of interest and nothing getting finished.  It’s about time for one of those.

I had a few things to say last year, but so much has happened in the last year that I think a supplementary entry is in order.

Since your last birthday we have:

• Celebrated the first anniversary of our meeting
• Spent our first Thanksgiving together
• Spent our second Christmas together
• Spent our second New Year together
• Celebrated the first anniversary of our engagement
• Gotten married!

So yeah, that’s not everything but that’s still a lot.  It’s been quite a year – the best of my life, altogether.

We’ve become central to both of our families, making it more like just one big family with us in the middle.  That’s been a great feeling for me.

This is your first birthday as a Burnett, and I am probably almost as excited about that as you are.

But really, all that stuff is about us, and today is about you.  You’re the most amazing, beautiful, and gracious person I’ve ever met, and I got to marry you!  You make me happier than I’ve ever been – and that’s not just me talking, strangers on the street could look at before and after photos and point out the differences.

So even though it’s unnecessarily hot outside, I hope your birthday makes you one-tenth as happy as you make me on a regular day.

I love you baby!

Hmmmm…

Moderation Queue

1. John | kennyclemens@aol.com | IP: 76.240.211.243
   Did Joe Mazzello really comment on your review or do you think it was just some asshole playing around?Jun 5, 1:12 PM
2. Rob | kennyclemens@aol.com | IP: 76.240.211.243
   I have to agree with Joe here, the last line was a little sick and not so funny at all. I’d like to see his movie though.Jun 6, 5:56 AM

Article from courant.com by Emmanuel Margolis

According to the CDC, that would make “War on Terror” veterans responsible for ONE FIFTH of all suicides in 2005.

Get these fuckers home stat before they turn up all wrecked.

Sometimes a very cerebral or visceral moment can produce clarity for everyone around.  Sometimes a moment can be very cerebral and very visceral at the same time.

It’s not every day that you get to explain, to your best friend, the intricacies of your greatest love, your hopes, and your dreams.  Furthermore, it’s not every day that that explanation has a ripple effect of cementing in said best friend his own hopes and dreams of love.  Finally, it’s definitely not every day that the mere act of articulating those words reiterates to yourself the certainty with which you now walk the path you’re on.

Yeah that’s a real mouthful, but it’s been brewing for awhile and I really just want to talk about how incredibly happy I am.  I am to be married in exactly one month to the greatest love of my life, past, present, or future.  I have a best friend and best man who might as well be the Kwisatz Haderach for all the knowledge and wisdom he crams into his gourd.

I need to say that again.

I’m going to be married in one month.

Words cannot begin to express the simultaneous turbulent elation and Zen-like peace that I feel when I think about it.  I’ve never been more complete.

Fuck yeah people, fuck yeah.