I have moved.....

Hello folks, I have moved....to http://accidentalveteran.wordpress.com/?ref=spelling

Best,

Tom

Altweiberfastnacht & Moral Relativism, or: Who Are We Kidding?

Last night was Altweiberfastnacht, loosely translated as "Old Hags' Carnival", traditionally the true start of the carnival season in the catholic parts of Germany. The tradition (I'm sure I'll screw at least part of this up) calls for the ladies to dress up and go a little crazy that day, carrying around a pair of scissors, cutting off (literally) every male tie they can find. The men have wisened up over the years, and if they remember, they'll wear old & ugly Christmas present ties, if at all. At night fall (in some cases much earlier) the "real" fun begins, alcohol starts flowing, the Halloween-type costumes come out, and all men are fair game....and "game" is indeed the operative word.

Contrary to some perceptions though, this is not a night of gratuitous sex, or whatever, although some of that has been known to occur. To the contrary (and I'll get some flak for this), I'd be willing to bet that the number of coital encounters in the Rhineland (center of German carnival activity) actually falls on Altweiberfastnacht. Why? Because the women are in charge, and it's time for revenge.... What does that mean? It means that Altweiberfastnacht is a rare opportunity for the ladies to get back at the guys, tease them, boss them around, and generally show them who's really in charge. :-) Does that occasionally result in sex? Sure it does. Is that the point? Not at all.
Altweiberfastnacht is an opportunity to throw all convention out the window, for the ladies to act unlady-like, for the men to submit to female craziness (and occasionally hormones), in short, to behave strangely and have fun....in this case at the expense of males. The rest of German carnival is not much different, since the rules deliberately go out the window for all participants, but this Altweiberfastnacht night puts the emphasis on the female right to rebellion and self-determination, and damn the consequences....at least until morning.

So why the title of this rant? The fundamentals of historical & traditional morality are deliberaty suspended during German carnival, and particularly during Altweiberfastnacht. Practically speaking, carnival is not a grand Roman-style bacchanalia, some great orgy in the bars, streets and clubs of the Rhineland, although it could be perceived that way by the less-than-open-minded. But more often than not, the very moral standards (however those are understood) that are the target of the rebellion are mostly maintained and upheld by carnival's licence to be licentious. The freedom of action that carnival apparently conveys often serves as a reminder of human fallibility and vulnerability to temptation. More often than not, carnival allows its celebrants to go to the brink of the morally acceptable....only to pull back ( only sometimes literally) :-) from the morass of deeply immoral behavior. The true beauty of the carnival and Altweiberfastnacht traditions lies in the fact that (in a very Christian way), sins, translated as transgressions against a generally accepted standard of morality, however that morality is framed (religion, enlightened humanism, whatever), committed during carnival are intended to be forgiven (at least by our fellow humans)....to help the forgiving along a little bit, revelers wear masks :-)

It seems to me that the principle of time-framed (the core is a couple of weeks) sanctioned carnival licentiousness does nothing more than acknowledge and frame our humanity, acknowledge our moral fallibility, and acknowledge the fact that no matter what our personal moral (or religious, or ideological) compass may be, our internals are hard-wired to rebel against artificial, so-called rational rules, to do what pleases the instinct, and to throw the cultural, doctrinal, societal or religious rulebook out the window. The barriers are still there (indoctrination does work), but the carnevalistic tradition allows us mortals to simply "live the body" for a few days, with a license to temporarily forget our moral inhibitions, our cultural musts and do-nots. The urge to do so, the will to rebel against convention, is always there, deep down. Self-righteous attitudes and puritanical resistance against this instinctual fact, based on whatever kind of rulebook, are nothing more than a poor attempt to deny the reality of our humanity.

Altweiberfastnacht may be reserved for the pleasure of the ladies, but all of carnival is based on the same principle: let's not delude ourselves into thinking that we're immune to the a-moral imperatives of our individuality and instincts. Temptation, an occasional and universal urge to give into it & maybe the subsequent guilty conscience (which is relative) are the mainstays of our collective humanity. Nobody is immune. Everybody is free to make their choices. But let's not kid our individual selves about the fact that these choices exist, or that the choices are always rational or clear-cut. That's what makes the beauty of life. Helau!!!

Technical difficulties resolved

Apologies to the few who actually check in here every once in a while....had some trouble over the past few weeks reaching the site....conspiracy theories anyone?...:-) Anyways, I found a way to get back on, so the pressure is on again to actually produce something soon :-o

love & cookies to all

luussert

Don’t shoot the skinny rabbits…

3/4/09

Don’t shoot the skinny rabbits…

I initially had no idea what to write about in these little essays. However, my current military deployment to South-East Asia seemed as good a place to start as any, and the thousands (right…:-) ) of comments I’ve received so far appear to encourage this. I’m as vain as the next guy, so I could attribute these positive responses to the outstanding qualities of my writing, but who am I kidding…interest in an “inside” look at military life was apparently genuine. I have to ask myself: why is that?

The last 8 years of Uncle Bush’s military adventures, and the massive media and propaganda efforts that accompanied them, have come to initiate an automatic gag (German: würg) reflex in some of us; I’ve certainly had enough group-think pushed my own way to last a lifetime….and yet…

In spite of (perhaps because of) the media wars during the Bush years, many friends asked me questions like: “what’s it really like?”, “how can you stand it?”, “how can you work for that guy?” etc. Even before good ole Dubya, when half the world was still in love or in lust with Bill Clinton, there were always questions. Whether genuinely curious, sarcastic, cynical or wannabe-cynical (a prerequisite to cynicism is substantive knowledge of the subject at hand), plain ignorant and/or prejudiced, it seems people wanted to know about life as a GI. Since many Americans have not served in the Armed Forces (we don’t accept goobers….just kidding, :-), we definitely do, a lot), the questions were not exclusively from foreign friends either.

So let me try to explain what it’s like, perhaps occasionally throw a little pseudo-psycho-socio-babble in there to mix things up, hopefully add a little humor, definitely let out sporadic cries of frustration, but most importantly, I want to have fun with this. If I run out of things to say, or get bored listening to my own blather, I’ll move on. Ditto if I get a strong sense of rejection from the comments readers send :-)

Don’t shoot the skinny rabbits? Maybe some of my American friends know the expression, but I only heard it the first time a couple of weeks ago, from a chaplain’s assistant no less. We were sitting in the big tent, the only place that serves alcohol around here (2 drinks per night, electronically verified), and as usual, I was venting (complaining, bitching, whatever) about the rules. The gentleman in question shook his head in commiseration, and told me that his grandpappy in Ohio used to tell him: “Son, don’t shoot the skinny rabbits”. I looked at him with incomprehension until he explained that it was his grandfather’s way of explaining to him that in life, one should pay attention to the things that really matter (i.e. shoot only the fat rabbits), rather than waste precious time worrying about silly rules etc. The explanation didn’t make me feel much better about the rules, but I did really like the expression.

Now, I can already hear some of you telling me: “What, you genius, it took you 20 years to figure out that the military has rules?” Well no, it didn’t, but…

When I first joined, still shell-shocked from the not-so-welcome-to-the-United-States immigration experience, with nary a clue about the realities of life in America, the rules were actually quite good for me. For a completely lost 20-year-old alone in a cut-throat Southern California economy, whose pride prevented him from returning home to Europe, the U.S. Air Force and its rules were just about perfect. I didn’t have to think, just to do what I was told, and was provided free room and board, and more importantly, a highly structured living environment that allowed me to take a breather, take stock, and …figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Bottom line: At first, the rules were at worst a little nuisance, part of the price to be paid for peace of mind (and 3 square meals a day)…

To make things even better, I then quickly discovered I had a skill set (the ability to learn languages quickly and well) that was highly valued by the U.S. Air Force. Not only was this skill highly valued in itself, it also provided opportunities to….get away from the rules. As a result of my language skills, I’ve spent most of my career outside the Air Force mainstream, doing translation, interpretation, negotiation, mediation (haal mol eng Keier de Baak, Misch), in short, doing jobs that took me away from the uniform, away from bases, away from the strict military framework that most of my fellow GIs get to experience every day. This doesn’t mean that I wasn’t aware of all the rules, just that I didn’t have to play by them much of the time, or if I did (for training courses and other short interruptions), it was always for limited periods of time, and knowing that I’d soon be gone again, shooting fat rabbits.

All good things must come to an end, however, and last summer, the Air Force decided that “the good of the Air Force” was best served by placing me in a staff position at a headquarters in Germany. I tried to fight the idea, but since I wanted to be close to my family, who had already moved there, I accepted the job (not that I had much choice if I wanted a pension…)

So since September, I’ve been in uniform every day, re-learning all about the right way to wear the damn thing, learning about the “normal” bureaucracy, the checklists for EVERYTHING, etc. Still, I’ve been in Germany (as opposed to Washington DC), and in spite of small adaptation issues, I’ve been lucky enough to have a very understanding boss, who doesn’t put much stock in regulation for the sake of regulation, so it’s fair to say that I’ve been dealing with “Air Force Lite” at worst…until now.

Now I’m deployed to a so-called high-threat environment. The leadership clearly believes that the only way to keep good order and discipline among 1000+ people living in a self-contained environment is to enforce all the rules, all the time, and to make as many additional rules as possible to make sure everybody’s safe, risk-free, and walking around with a pole up their )(&%& all the time.

I’m definitely back in skinny rabbit country.

Skinny Rabbit Example 1:

I share an office space of about 10 square meters with a subordinate. The most dangerous activity that takes place in this office is the transportation of my coffee mug from the door to the desk. Yet, every week, I get an e-mail reminder from the safety monitor, talking to me about risky work practices that I should avoid at all costs. Here are some gems from this week:

- Frequently inspect electrical systems to insure that the path to ground is continuous (huh?)

- Do not remove ground prongs from cord- and plug-connected equipment or extension cords (...good thing they told me this, I LOVE breaking those little suckers off...)

- Use double-insulated tools and ground all exposed metal parts of equipment (uhum...I spend hours doing this every day)

- Avoid standing in wet areas when using portable electrical power tools (as you might have guessed, this is my favorite).

I don’t blame the individual for sending this stuff, she’s required to do so by regulation, but you get my point....

Skinny Rabbit Example 2:

The leadership here is at least very well-intentioned, so last week, they had allowed a party (with the usual 2-drink per person limit) to take place at our recreational facility. The organizers had envisioned a number of games to keep everyone entertained. Naturally, the games had to be vetted to ensure good order and discipline …one game didn’t make the cut, i.e. was prohibited: The Newspaper Dance (you may remember this one from your childhood): couples compete dancing on newspaper foldouts, which then get folded in successively smaller squares, forcing the couples to dance in smaller and smaller spaces. The couples get successively eliminated as they lose their balance or step off the newspaper folds, until only one couple is left: the winners. This game was deemed “too risky” because it could lead to misunderstandings or inappropriate touching, therefore Oh My God, to sexual arousal….’nuff said. WHO COMES UP WITH THIS STUFF? The noble, traditional and acknowledged purpose of the military is to kill people and break things, and they are worried about inappropriate thoughts of a potentially sexual nature? Never mind the fact that the male to female ratio in this place is about 30:1, making it highly probable that some of the “couples” would be same-sex. In my (admittedly open) mind, this would a) make the game more fun, and b) make inappropriate thoughts and touching highly unlikely, at least for about 90 percent of the population, but in skinny rabbit logic this would actually make things worse….one might accidentally end up with two males having inappropriate thoughts THAT'S ILLEGAL.....DEFINITE STARVING RABBIT ALERT.

Skinny Rabbit Example 3:

Smoking is frowned upon. Fair enough, it is frowned upon in most of the civilized world these days. In our little fortress, we are allowed to smoke only in designated areas. What this means, in practical terms, is that they have about 20 little gazebos set up all over the fortress grounds, and that you can’t smoke anywhere else. Osama’s (a pseudonym to protect the innocent), the only legal alcoholic consumption establishment, has its own little smoking gazebo. Skinny Rabbit Alert 1: You can’t take your drink to the smoking gazebo, good heavens, you might smoke and drink at the same time…CAN'T HAVE THAT. Skinny Rabbit Alert 2: on the other side of Osama’s there is a nice little patio, where, when the weather is nice, you can take your drink to sit outside….but.... you guessed it, here, you can’t smoke. I’ve been trying to figure out the logic behind this stuff, but I can’t for the life of me get there from here.

So there you have it, all wrapped up, a nice little lesson in linguistics, a little additional description of GI life, and even some personal stuff thrown in. This essay took a little longer to get into print, I was actually really busy during the last two weeks, hopefully shooting fat rabbits…

PEACE, LOVE, and FAT RABBIT STEW for all,

De Luussert Ennerwee

You WILL have fun...

1000 identically clad souls, confined for a minimum of 4 months in a 3 square-mile industrial compound, surrounded by barbed wire, massive concrete barriers, heavily armed guards, high-tech sensors, dogs, the works…..umm,no, this is not Guantanamo Bay. Au contraire, mon frère. Not only are the occupants of this facility more or less voluntarily present; most of them also appear quite happy with the idea.

Where are we? This could be any of several bases of forward-deployed U.S. and coalition troops, maybe on their way to battle terror and evil, maybe on their way home, or maybe they just live here for a few months, doing support jobs (“in the rear, with the gear”). Depending on the branch of service (and personality) of the commanding officer, the outpost’s rules (and consequently, its internal atmosphere) will vary, from gloomy to high-strung, from ho-hum-let’s-get-it-over-with to depressingly gray, from bored-out-of-my-skull to excited-to-be-here (yes, there's still a few of those left).

Given the no-nonsense security posture, particularly in these idyllic garden spots of the world, surrounded by more or less peaceful citizens who are more or less happily going about their business, one might be forgiven for wondering: who is protecting whom from what? These places are generally not under immediate daily threat from enemy fire, and given their locations, it’s fair to say that the respective local governments have a pretty strong grip on internal security. So why the Festung Europa mentality?

Here is the reality: even 7 years after 9/11, and without getting into a rather painful discussion of actual vs. perceived threats, no military commander in his (or her) right career-mind will expose themselves to the accusation of neglecting the safety and security of soldiers in their charge. For the most part, if that entails a certain amount of overkill (pun definitely not intended), and the idea that security comes at the expense of comfort, the answer will be: “you are a soldier, (and a volunteer, at that), so deal with it”. After all, there IS indoor plumbing….

So, here we are…the sun is shining, the birds are singing, spring and love is almost in the air…the actual threat to the Soldier/Airman/Sailor/Marine’s life and limb is not always very evident, or even clear and present. The real question is this: how do you keep these GIs from going nuts, bonkers, bananas, or at least a little stir-crazy? How do you keep them from seriously challenging the bunker mindset, particularly when they see that the entire civilian population around them leads fairly normal lives, wears normal clothes, goes shopping, gets drunk at night, you get the picture?

The answer is twofold: military discipline (plenty of that), and official fun. I won’t spend too much time on the “military good order and discipline” part. Suffice it to say that it’s a mixture of many rules, a few well-placed threats, as well as a sense of honor, integrity, responsibility, excellence, and anal retentive disorder, take your pick, not necessarily in that order. As stated above, the relative importance of each of these factors varies with the personality of the leadership.

Official fun…. Given the seeming oxymoron (it’s not exactly accepted terminology), one is naturally tempted to appeal to one’s inner cynic, to criticize and ridicule that which one doesn’t understand, in short, to put the whole idea in the “typical military bullshit” drawer. Which is pretty much where it belongs. And yet…I’ve already mentioned the career and political constraints, the unwritten rules (alongside the many written ones) that commanders must labor under while still effectively leading, managing and controlling their troops. In other words, a commander’s hands are tied. She/he can’t just open the floodgates, let the troops out, forget the rules, bring in the booze, the bands, and the babes, and let’s party. The days of the officially sanctioned on-base military brothel are obviously past, so what options are left? Interestingly, the dilemma is recognized all the way to the top of the military food chain. Funds are therefore available, meaning that within the bounds of military reason (!!!), the question of how to keep your troops happy (well ok, quiet and obedient) almost literally becomes a matter of individual taste and creativity.

Some examples from around the world, besides the traditional traveling singers, bands and comedians that we know from World War II movies (short intermezzo: unlike the WW II and Vietnam glory days of Bob Hope etc. the comedians come in pairs these days - they make them share rooms to save money - and they don't have their own names anymore; presumably to protect the innocent, they are allowed incredibly creative nicknames -- Mama's Boy (funny guy, he gets it), Military Man (definitely doesn't)...ok, end of intermezzo, back to the list of not-so-traditional current offerings: karaoke evening (mind-boggling cultural highlight), horseback riding (maybe some other time), a talent show (you’d be surprised), hiking trips, massage booths (with VERY strict rules, more on that some other time), billiards & pool, cheerleader visits (ahem), indoor hockey league (not for the faint of knee), shopping trips downtown, local souvenir bazaars, sumo suit wrestling (don't try this at home), country dance night, salsa night (arriba), daily free (and VERY slow) internet, and my personal favorite: Bingo Night (for my non-American friends: bingo is sort of a cross between a European tombola and sudoku). I’m sure there’s more fun to be had out there, but ...not bad, huh?

During these activities and events, the potential for spontaneity, for letting off steam and pent-up frustrations, for briefly forgetting one’s worries about the family, and whatever other emotions one dares to have, is somewhat constrained, given that most places strictly limit or completely forbid alcohol consumption (I’ve seen 0-0, 2-a-day, and 3-a-day limits), but all-in-all, these circenses fulfill their function. Aside from the occasional (very traditional) Air Force vs. Marines fist fight, I’ve yet to see violence erupt in any serious way. So the system definitely works. Even without sex. Yeah, I forgot. There is NO sex on base. Sex is strictly forbidden for reasons of good order and discipline. Male & female dormitories are in separate buildings (no, there is no barbed wire, let’s not get stupid about this - there are code locks on the doors). I’m 99 percent sure nobody breaks the no sex rule, because after all, 1) they don’t sell condoms at the BX. 2) many of us are married, so we’re used to it :-)…but much more importantly, 3) we are highly disciplined and responsible warriors who understand that the mission always comes first and realize that sex is.....overrated….a matter of willpower….unhealthy.... yucky.... unmanly....unwomanly …..a solitary endeavor?....well, you figure it out, I gotta run, because, you got it….it’s BINGO NIGHT.

Much Peace, Love & Cookies to all,

De Luussert ennerwee

De--ployed

I've been shamed into writing. A friend (thanks Sam) convinced me I should try this, during an online chat, just before I left on this current deployment. I started writing at the airport, before I was rudely interrupted by my flight being called. I promptly forgot (sort of) all about it, but after Sam not-so-gently reminded me with an e-mail from Albania telling me that this space was E M P T Y, I had to get her off my back...for those of you that will bother reading it, I welcome your comments (snide, cruel or otherwise).

Alas, I too am back on foreign shores, this time in Kyrgyzstan (Kyrgyzia or Kirgisien to some of you). I think it might be a really beautiful country. Maybe I'll even find out one of these days, once they let us off the base without the current minimum of 874 hours notice in a minimum group of 132 individuals, at least one tank, and with authorization signatures by God and Peter only, biometrically verified in triplicate please.

It's ok, though, nobody can get in, either. Well, they can, just a few restrictions, for our safety, of course. People with blond hair are generally not admitted unless they can prove that they are natural blondes. I think they do DNA tests or something, the other type of physical proof is considered morally unacceptable (there was this rumor that with Bush's departure, this might change, but no luck so far). Seriously, though, the security is very very good. The other day, just after my massage, I was sitting here, drinking my evening spiced chai latte, when all of a sudden, a senior individual was kind enough to walk up to me just to tell me that the cold-weather scarf is worn inside the jacket collar, not outside, otherwise, it could get caught in the cappucino machine and cause untold havoc and possibly serious injury. I was gently reminded that I have to lead by example. Have to watch out for those suicidal scarves when they get close to the Kyrgyz cappucino machines....yes Tom, even on base. You never know, there may be a secret non-natural blonde among the staff...

I was already down here during President Obama's inauguration. Sitting in a big tent with a bunch of Albanian Mafia look-alikes (the new Air Force PT uniform, definitely a crowd pleaser, it even glows in the dark. No I'm not kidding. Think safety, always). There was what sounded like a gentle breeze (it was actually our track suits that make this swish-swish sound when we walk, sort of like fat people whose thighs rub together, just louder), very emotional. The ceremony was on this huge 10x10 meter screen, and everything was very moving. Well, the screen was, they hadn't stabilized it very well. Honestly, though, I was moved. Especially when they played the national anthem, and somebody yelled STAND UP, YOU JERKS.

But I like President Obama, honestly. I won two bets in Ethiopia (each for a bottle of single malt scotch) because Obama got elected. Some people didn't think this could happen in America, even today (Amsalu & Major Alemseged, that's you, you know who you are, you owe me a bottle each on my next trip to Addis). For reasons of diplomacy, I couldn't admit it last summer, but I always knew Barack Hussein would win. I like and strongly admire John McCain for everything he's done for his country, but....John, you're too old for this.

Things have certainly changed since Obama came to power. Until the inauguration, my foreign friends were mostly embarrassed to talk to me about Bush. They didn't want to offend me. I always thought that was nice. Now, it's different. They are still embarrassed, because as intellectuals, they don't want to show the emotional level, show how much they really like Obama, and how much they really hope that he can fix the world, or at least get them a new job. I mean, don't get me wrong, the newspapers etc. are doing their jobs, so everyone is already tripping about "we can't expect too much, there are really a lot of problems, and he's just one man, and U.S. policy won't change etc." but deep in their secret hearts, I think people really do hope that President Obama will work miracles (please please please, save the world). We'll see. I'm quite worried. I do believe that if anyone can pull off this stunt of making America and the world believe in themselves again, it's him. But it's a very tall order.

Anyways, if Barack Hussein can't do it, I vote for Ahmadinejad. The dude is a master of the frenzied masses, he can obviously convince himself of anything, so why not? I mean, it can't be easy being being that comically self-delusional, there has to be a genius somewhere in there. If Barack Hussein can't pull it off, I think we should give old Mahmoud a chance at running the world for a while. You know, put him in the White House. What's he gonna do? Ok, he'll outlaw ties, but then he'll make the full-body hejab mandatory for the ladies, think of all the jobs he'd create in obese America's textile industry. Ok, maybe not.

I'm rambling. Writing is hard. It appears you have to have a plan. And a title that fits. This one doesn't. De--ployed. The thought was, there is no American ploy to take over the world. Honest. Even with thousands of me deployed, we couldn't do it. We're too nice. Except when we overcompensate. When that happens, it's because there's stupidity at the top, which doesn't bode well for world domination either. So either way, no way. A friend once said "if we're really out for world domination, it's sure as hell gonna be a better kind of world domination than any previous attempts" (Hi Glenn). Well, we're not. We're either too smart, or too stupid, to pull it off. We just got done with 8 years of stupid, so for now, we'll do smart for a while.

As for moi, I'm going to bed.

Peace & love to all. And cookies.