I decided to challenge myself and see if I could write anything decently scary, or at least vaguely suggestive of the right atmosphere in ten minutes or less. Below, you will see the fruits of my labor. It ought not be too challenging, given the atmosphere of the times.
I cannot see
I cannot speak
I cannot breathe
I cannot blink
But I can hear, so very well.
So I am here, and this is hell.
The doctor's sad, full of remorse
I'm in a coma, there's no recourse
I hear her sob, I hear her dread
And she insists, I'll stay in bed.
So here I lie, for all my days
Trapped inside as my hair grays.
They do not hear my mental cry
Or my hopes that I might die.
What do you think? Have I done any justice to the subject? I tried to imagine what a coma might be like, as locked-in syndrome is about the most terrifying thing that I can imagine happening to anyone. I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy, I think.
Unrelated, but if you're in Russia, greetings! Can anyone tell me why my blog is so popular in your country? I'm dying to know.
26 May, 2013
A Day in the Cold
How many hours have I been out here? Has it been days? Weeks, even? It's all a blur in this bright, white chaos. I pull my collar to my cheeks, the meager cloth of my garment doing little to stave off my continuing descent into hypothermia.
It stopped being cold some time ago, roughly the time that I had given up any prospect of trudging another damnable inch from where I am now huddled. Presently, I am all too aware that I may never leave this tundra. The warmth is just too overbearing. I remember hearing that warmth is a sign that you're in the final stages. That's good. Nobody ever told me how tedious dying in a blizzard could be.
But still, there's something calming about all of this. The forceful gale around me has a certain beauty as it catches each tiny whisp of snow in its unseen tendrils, tossing them all around me, dusting my beard and hair with the chilled ivory powder.
Never had I dreamt that something so beautiful could presage something so hideous.
It stopped being cold some time ago, roughly the time that I had given up any prospect of trudging another damnable inch from where I am now huddled. Presently, I am all too aware that I may never leave this tundra. The warmth is just too overbearing. I remember hearing that warmth is a sign that you're in the final stages. That's good. Nobody ever told me how tedious dying in a blizzard could be.
But still, there's something calming about all of this. The forceful gale around me has a certain beauty as it catches each tiny whisp of snow in its unseen tendrils, tossing them all around me, dusting my beard and hair with the chilled ivory powder.
Never had I dreamt that something so beautiful could presage something so hideous.
13 May, 2013
The One I Was Too Angry To Properly Title
As those of you who know me or read my blog or are even slightly aware of my motivations and desires may know, as a child, I desired nothing more than to join the military. I knew, though, that with my disability, I'd never be able to enlist as a foot soldier - despite my heartfelt desire to do so. Therefore, at a very young age I dedicated the majority of my talents and intellect to the pursuit of martial knowledge in the hope that I could get some kind of officer position, or, perhaps, a teaching post at West Point. Sun Tzi was my idol, growing up. Hannibal Barca was my mentor. To this day, even, my direct ancestor Ulysses S Grant is a tremendous inspiration behind everything that I throw my efforts into.
I forsook the study of more practical matters in favor of military esoterica. And why shouldn't I have? It interested me and I honestly believed it would pay off later in my career. I achieved - and maintain - a near savant level of knowledge in military history, ranking structure of various international armies and navies, foreign and domestic small arms and political motivations for damn near every armed group in existence today and in the past. However, this was not enough for the United States military. After years of trying, I've mostly resigned myself to the fact that I will never be a soldier.
Even if the discriminatory hiring practices of the US Armed Forces were to end, my political beliefs and disdain for the civilian apparatchik of government would likely earn me few friends in the higher ranks, and I would thus be relegated to the low level bureaucratic grunt work that is rapidly being replaced by civilian contractors. I am mostly fine with this, though I still nurture a simmering grudge against the powers that be for denying me my greatest ambition in life.
Can anything be done about my fate? Likely not. I've lobbied every congressman I've ever had - even when new ones are elected - since the time I was 14. I wrote lengthy missives to my government at every level of representation, their inaction at every turn further fueling my desire to see the useless fucks thrown out on the street. It has never amounted to anything, and were this not something I wanted so much, I'd be content with it.
However, my simmering fury at the matter was brought back to the fore today. You see, one of my favorite places on the internet is /k/: 4chan's board of weapons aficionados and fanboys. I didn't link to it, as their level of decorum is, well, perhaps not for everyone to put it in the lightest terms possible. Anyway, while browsing /k/ today, I noticed a thread devoted to making gun nuts angry. Fancying a good chuckle, I decided to give it a look. That's where I found this:
That's right. You see, despite my immense level of knowledge and expertise with all matters military, I was never able to enlist. However, the United States Marine Corps decided to debase itself by allowing Private Butterball here into their ranks. Take a look at her collar. It's hard to see from this image, but those are at least Private's chevrons. She actually passed basic. Let me repeat that: she actually completed basic training but somehow is still in the military despite being the size of a grounded zeppelin.
Mere words cannot quantify my fury and rage at this. I can never in a thousand times express my undying and unyielding hatred for the fact that this person is somehow good enough to serve my beloved armed forces while I am left out. What makes her so much better than me? What, practically, can she do that I cannot? If anything, I'm more capable. Whereas she probably can't walk to her car without getting winded, I rolled my ass two miles in my wheelchair this morning and will do so tomorrow as part of my daily exercise regimen.
I could allow myself not being in the military when they told me that every active duty serviceman had to at least be a capable rifleman. However, it is evident from this fucking picture that this is merely lip service. I am infuriated and incensed. Worse than that, I am livid. But the very worst thing about this is that there isn't a damned thing I can do to overturn this discriminatory hiring practice that I haven't already done and am not, on some level, already doing. Does anyone have any idea what I should do about this? Because I'm at wit's end.
Thanks for reading my very angry post. It's just pretty infuriating to have something that you've desired for your entire life denied to you only to see it made a mockery of by those who probably don't even appreciate what they've got? I mean, how could she even appreciate that she's fit enough to serve? Look at the state she's let herself get in. All of my rage. All of it. Ever.
In non rage related news, I'm bandying about the idea of restarting Red States since my latest job ended up letting me go before I even got to start. Apparently - after assuring me a million times to the contrary - they had nothing available for handicapped security officers to do. Just fucking great. Oh, hey, that wasn't non ragey at all. Oh well.
Thanks again for letting me vent, all.
I forsook the study of more practical matters in favor of military esoterica. And why shouldn't I have? It interested me and I honestly believed it would pay off later in my career. I achieved - and maintain - a near savant level of knowledge in military history, ranking structure of various international armies and navies, foreign and domestic small arms and political motivations for damn near every armed group in existence today and in the past. However, this was not enough for the United States military. After years of trying, I've mostly resigned myself to the fact that I will never be a soldier.
Even if the discriminatory hiring practices of the US Armed Forces were to end, my political beliefs and disdain for the civilian apparatchik of government would likely earn me few friends in the higher ranks, and I would thus be relegated to the low level bureaucratic grunt work that is rapidly being replaced by civilian contractors. I am mostly fine with this, though I still nurture a simmering grudge against the powers that be for denying me my greatest ambition in life.
Can anything be done about my fate? Likely not. I've lobbied every congressman I've ever had - even when new ones are elected - since the time I was 14. I wrote lengthy missives to my government at every level of representation, their inaction at every turn further fueling my desire to see the useless fucks thrown out on the street. It has never amounted to anything, and were this not something I wanted so much, I'd be content with it.
However, my simmering fury at the matter was brought back to the fore today. You see, one of my favorite places on the internet is /k/: 4chan's board of weapons aficionados and fanboys. I didn't link to it, as their level of decorum is, well, perhaps not for everyone to put it in the lightest terms possible. Anyway, while browsing /k/ today, I noticed a thread devoted to making gun nuts angry. Fancying a good chuckle, I decided to give it a look. That's where I found this:
Mere words cannot quantify my fury and rage at this. I can never in a thousand times express my undying and unyielding hatred for the fact that this person is somehow good enough to serve my beloved armed forces while I am left out. What makes her so much better than me? What, practically, can she do that I cannot? If anything, I'm more capable. Whereas she probably can't walk to her car without getting winded, I rolled my ass two miles in my wheelchair this morning and will do so tomorrow as part of my daily exercise regimen.
I could allow myself not being in the military when they told me that every active duty serviceman had to at least be a capable rifleman. However, it is evident from this fucking picture that this is merely lip service. I am infuriated and incensed. Worse than that, I am livid. But the very worst thing about this is that there isn't a damned thing I can do to overturn this discriminatory hiring practice that I haven't already done and am not, on some level, already doing. Does anyone have any idea what I should do about this? Because I'm at wit's end.
Thanks for reading my very angry post. It's just pretty infuriating to have something that you've desired for your entire life denied to you only to see it made a mockery of by those who probably don't even appreciate what they've got? I mean, how could she even appreciate that she's fit enough to serve? Look at the state she's let herself get in. All of my rage. All of it. Ever.
In non rage related news, I'm bandying about the idea of restarting Red States since my latest job ended up letting me go before I even got to start. Apparently - after assuring me a million times to the contrary - they had nothing available for handicapped security officers to do. Just fucking great. Oh, hey, that wasn't non ragey at all. Oh well.
Thanks again for letting me vent, all.
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