Archive for May, 2008

Last week I played a prank on my readers, by leading them along about an unpleasant subject, before turning it into a joke. If you just got here, go ahead and read it now, I’ll wait.

I’d say that I am sorry for doing that to my regular readers, but let’s face it. You know that I’m not, and that’s probably why you keep reading my site. Because you know that I have the capacity and the willingness to turn painful emotional turmoil into a bad pun. That’s just the kind of service I like to provide.

But it has been pointed out to me that this is a serious issue that needs to be addressed publicly more often.

We currently have a suicide epidemic amongst those that serve. Take a look at this article.

Over 6,000 veterans killed themselves in 2005. That’s more than we have lost in combat since operations in Iraq began.

And so I am going to talk about the same thing, but this time no jokes.

Pretty much everything I described about my problems coming home from Kosovo was true, with the exception of the model part.

I got back to the states and took leave right away. I was a little weirded out at first, which I just attributed to having been home for only a week or so. I noticed that I now had issues with being in crowded areas. And once a friend of mine tried to run up and hug me. I reacted by stiff-arming her hard in the chest with my left hand, while reaching my right arm to my side where my (now imaginary) rifle would be hanging, to make sure she couldn’t grab it. Which was a tad embarrassing.

Upon returning I was sent to language school.

Unfortunately I stopped falling asleep at night. I lashed out at my teammates, and I couldn’t concentrate or study worth a damn. Which made trying to study Arabic go from a rather unpleasant exercise in futility to nightmarishly unpleasant exercise in futility. I tried to talk about it with a few of the soldiers I worked with, but was mostly left with the impression that they thought less of me for bringing the subject up. So I quit trying to talk about it. And so I just got worse.

Maybe soldiers are better about this sort of thing now. I certainly hope they are. But if one of your buddies has started acting like an ass lately, talk to him about it. Make sure he’s alright. I know that it can seem like the sorta thing that rough-tough, high-speed, low-drag troopers shouldn’t worry about. He might even make fun of you. But would you rather suffer through an uncomfortable conversation, or find out that one of your pals was in serious pain, in need of help, and that you didn’t do anything to help?

Eventually my team SGT decided that something was seriously wrong and did send me to the medical center to speak to a shrink. And I was diagnosed with PTSD. And my treatment was Wellbutrin and sleeping pills.

Because if there’s one thing a soldier with PTSD needs, its a bottle of sleeping pills. Don’t worry though, he wasn’t completely irresponsible. He asked if I was suicidal first. Its not like a soldier would ever lie about something like that, and besides, I’m sure that the nearly half an hour he spoke to me gave him enough of an impression of who I was and how I was doing.

So let’s recap. Half an hour with a doctor. Two bottles of pills, and an appointment to come back in a few weeks to see how I was holding up.

Things did not improve significantly. Maybe Wellbutrin has helped some other people. But in my case, it just made me feel hyper, frantic, and hostile. Also, it made Dr. Pepper taste funny for some reason.

Fortunately I did happen to have a decent social support network outside of the military. I have a family that gives a damn about me, and I had plenty of non-military friends that I spoke to. And they also noticed I was acting different since I had gotten back.

And what turned out to work for me was talking about my issues with people I could trust. And it didn’t get better overnight. But over time, it did. I quit taking the pills and told Army mental health “Thanks I feel fine now all better!” for pretty much the same reasons. Because they weren’t doing a darn thing to make me feel better. And I talked it over with my friends a whole bunch more. After a few months I started to feel a little better. And after about a year or so I was pretty much over it for the most part. Although I’m still not all that comfortable in crowds anymore.

Now I’m not claiming that pills are always going to be bad for you. Nor am I saying that talking to your friends fixes everything.

There are good and bad doctors in the Army, and I think I just happened to draw a bad one. And the pills didn’t help me. But talking it out did.

So if you feel like you are having any trouble coping after a deployment, talk to someone about it. If you don’t feel comfortable talking with those you serve with, talk with your family, or friends outside of the service. Check with the mental health people in your branch of service. If you don’t want to talk about it with your chain of command, lie about having an STD scare and go anyways. If you do go with military mental health services, remember that they should be making you feel better, not worse. If they make you feel worse, speak to someone else, or try to find a private therapist or councilor. Talk you your Pastor, Rabbi, or High Priestess. Look online for support groups. Hell post anonymously in the comments on my site if you just can’t find anyone else to talk to, please just talk to someone.

And for everyone who has had any experience with problems like this, please share any information on any resources you happen to know about that could help.

Some Resources:

Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR)

National Center for PTSD

PTSD Support Services

Military One Source – Anonymous mental health care for people in the service.

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Celebrate that fact that you have gotten past hump-day by watching these videos at work.

Be sure to turn the volume way up, to maximize the distraction to any nearby co-workers.

If you like zombies and babies, you might like this. (And if you read this site, then you probably do.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPgxCiE3hqY

Here’s a trailer for a movie that will, rather unfortunately, probably never be made.

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=31462745

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I have worked in haunted houses for eleven of the last fourteen years. I started in Nightmare on Grayson in San Antonio, and I got five seasons under my belt before moving to Austin and finding a haunt that became my home. Although, the first night I worked for The Nightmare Factory, I was not sure I was going to stay for more than the first night.

I had sent in an application and never heard back from the owners. Then on opening night in 2002 I got a call about thirty minutes before they opened, saying they were short handed and wanting to know if I could help.

Naturally, I jumped at the chance as it had been a little over three years since I moved to Austin and slightly longer since I got my boo on.

Even though I was a veteran with several years of experience I was still just a new guy to them. I had to prove myself. I later found out that anytime in the past that they had an actor show up from another haunt, it never worked out. They figured I would be no different.

So, to put me to the test, they stuck me in this scene that looked like an Egyptian tomb. They called it Chitchupaz, (pronounced chit-you-paz,… get it?) It was gorgeous. There were hieroglyphics everywhere and large hieroglyphic images from the Book of the Dead in spots. There was fake gold all over the place. Sand all over the place. A sarcophagus that was set up with mirrors so that it would fade back and forth between a view of the outside of the sarcophagus, to the inside so you could see the mummy contained within. There was also the torn up remnants of a bloody body on the floor.

I was impressed. I asked them what I was supposed to do in here. I was expecting to be a mummy or something.

Nope.

The owner and his right hand man had been really into Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter that year, and they made this big, beautiful scene without thinking about what to put in it. And well… I think they used to smoke a lot of pot back then, or something, but they thought it would be great to have a Steve Irwin-esque, archaeologist being attacked by a mummy.

So they show me my costume. It was basically the Steve Irwin shirt and shorts, which looked even dorkier with my black work boots, and pale white legs. Needless to say, I felt like an idiot.

Then they showed me the “mummy.” It was a zombie mask that was stuffed and sewn on to a body that was made out of cloth. The arms were sewn together in a loop so that it could hang around your neck… like it is attacking you.

They told me when people come by to run out and pretend the mummy is attacking me, and tell people to stay away from the gold, because it is cursed. The idea of cursed gold got set up in the previous scene by Becky, a talking ventriloquist dummy who would tell bad jokes and also told people to stay away from the gold in Chitchupaz. (Like I said, I think they smoked a lot of pot back in those days.)

I tried it their way, as they suggested. And it looked as stupid as it sounds. I would hide in a corner and wait for a group to come by, then they see me come running out, looking dorky in shorts and work boots, with a stuffed mummy hanging off my neck, trying to act like I am being attacked and warning people to stay away from the cursed gold.

The looks of confusion on peoples faces were priceless.

The laughter stung a little.

Sometimes, I could not help but join the customers in laughing at the whole thing, as I knew how ridiculous I looked trying to act like I am being attacked or fighting off what was essentially a stuffed animal, while running around yelling, “Stay away from the gold! ARRRRGGGH! It’s cursed! Don’t touch the gold!”

After about thirty minutes, the boss came up to me and told me that they were getting something into fix the scene, (Oh, thank god), but it would not be in until the next week (Aww, crap). He told me he knew it sucked and to just… well… do the best with what I have.

I think I saw him stifle a giggle after he said that and turned to walk away.

Being a veteran of haunted houses, I said the hell with this, I want to actually scare people. So, I went back to hide in my corner and wait, just like I had earlier in the night. When a group came through my scene, I ran out, like the mummy was attacking me, again, just like I had earlier. But this time I came at customers fast, so that by the time they could process that I had a really fake looking, stuffed mummy around my neck, I was right next to them at the rail, and launching the mummy out over the railing at them, and shoving it in their faces.

I was actually scaring people, and even put a couple of them on the floor. (Hooray me. I’m like scary and stuff.) This even impressed the boss, that I was able to get any scares at all in that scene.

The next week, the owner did fix Chitchupaz. He ordered Anubis. Anubis is a Stalkaround, which is basically a puppet that you wear on your shoulders that makes you look about eight feet tall. Naturally the scene got a whole lot scarier, and to say I fell in love with Anubis is an understatement. I had crowds hitting the floor consistently, running out of the scene terrified, and I fed off the energy.

Anubis had a long life, he was used for the next two years, then was turned into Death for another three years before the Nightmare Factory got shut down.

I got to keep Death, since I spent the most time in him, I helped to maintain and repair him and trained newbies on how to use a Stalkaround and not make it look stupid. Now Death lives in the corner of my computer room, and is sitting behind me as I write this.

Death does get out once in a while. He helped me to win the costume contest at work, and he also was a celebrity judge in the Zombie Apocalypse Talent Show. He also lives on in virtual reality, in City of Villains as “Mr. Death.”

But what happened to the stuffed mummy? Well, I am not sure who has him. But he lived on as a catch phrase that we all still use to this day: “A mummy around the neck”.

(Definition) Mummy around the neck – something that seems like a good idea, but once implemented is obviously lame.

ex. Do you think it is scary, or is it a mummy around the neck?

ex. Do you think Segways will change the way people travel or is it just a mummy around the neck?

ex. Was this an interesting and entertaining post about the haunted house, or was it a mummy around the neck?

Feel free to use and spread the phrase.

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Around a week or so ago I got my first official board game rejection.

Despite how that sounds, this is actually pretty good news.

You see, I have submitted my designs to publishers in the past. But no one has ever actually bothered to tell me that they don’t want it. Usually they just ignore me.

Heck one company, which will remain nameless, expressed interest, told me they liked my game and wanted to run with it, and then never spoke to me again.

And so an actual honest-to-goodness rejection letter is actually a step up.

This time they cared enough to tell me to buzz off.

I’m still waiting to hear from some other potential publishers and I’m also looking into the possibility of self-publishing, either by making it a downloadable file that the customers print themselves or by actually shelling out the bucks for a print run.

Of course, this means that I would have to also find an artist to make all of the illustrations. So if you know an illustrator that works cheap and can follow instructions, please encourage them to contact me.

Also, if you know anything about the Board Game Industry, or just happen to own a publishing company, feel free to email me about this.

Details about my new project are here.

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Just a quick reminder before I commence the list. I am still accepting funny military stories from guest authors. So if you have any humorous stories, impotent anecdotes, anesthetist or confessions, impotent go ahead and send them in. If you request it I can even post them without any identifying information in case you are still serving with people who did not find your story particularly amusing.

(Submitted By Hector Rojasalvarado)

• Not allowed to borrow gear from the army barracks for “White Trash Drinking Day”

• Rojas isn’t allowed to take “1400 Siestas” because he says he’s ‘Latino”

• We aren’t allowed to have “DVDA Auditions” at the barracks anymore.

• Rojas is not allowed to talk about DVDA anymore.

• We aren’t allowed to fortify the barracks for the upcoming “Zombie Invasion”

• Can’t list Chuck Norris facts on the morning briefs.

• Not allowed to take reporters from London to interview hookers on hooker hill.

(Submitted By Garret Harvey)

• Do not put in a special request chit for admiral’s pay and when asked why say it was so you could afford the “good” hookers.

• Do not go to a bar and ask if they take ration cards.

(Submitted By SGT B)

• When having to go through DECON, using a sharpie to draw the “Kilroy was Here” face at my belt line is not the best idea.

• *Nor is “Property of 1SG” with arrows to my nipples.

• Not allowed to urinate messages onto the ground so they may be seen by the pilots above using thermal imaging.

• Must not use the pamphlet printer to make “Wet Burka Night with 1/2 off Chai” posters.

• I will not use the excuse “Dont worry I saw it on The Unit”.

• A little guy plus a KPOT does not constitute a “breaching tool”.

(Submitted By Don Gulas)

• My buddy was spontaneously ordered not to retrieve his scorpion from the fight when it was losing—badly—.

• Shooting the platoon sergeant after being given the order to kill them all is bad (thank the pentagon for MILES gear Mr. Platoon SGT!)

• Asking the Mess Daddy for an MRE (while in the chow line) does not make him smile. It has been know to ruin you first hot meal in 2 weeks.

• Tankers do not drive like Miss Daisey (no matter what you see).

• Inverting a Soldiers name and title just so you can call him “Sweet Seaman” is not an official name change. It MUST be on a DA Form 4187 and approved by the commander first.

• You should not be present when the commander receives said 4187, and do not try to offer any explanation at the time of questioning.

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Thanks to Andrew Adams for this one.

Edit: Link doesn’t work right, but it works if you cut and paste it into your browser.

http://www.bdmhistory.com/elusive/comic/strips/spc_creed.jpg

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Dear Furries,

I know I have not exactly been kind to your particular brand of dorkdom/fetish, but I just saw some fascinating videos that made me think of you, and perhaps we can come to a truce of sorts.

This is not exactly “furry” but it is people in animal costumes having sex. So, if you would like to see Isabella Rossellini dressed in insect costumes, mimicking having sex as that insect, then you furries will love this. And yes, it is even work safe! How cool is that?

http://www.sundancechannel.com/blogs/thegreen/390335912

I figure this will either turn you furries on, or it will show you how the rest of us view furries, except that we don’t find you educational. Either way, you can’t lose, and you just might learn something.

Hugs and Kisses,

Michiel

Edited to correct the link.  Thank you Stephanie

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This might be painful to read. Just a warning.

One of the things that tends to get glossed over in various discussions of the current war is the severe emotional toll that gets inflicted on our troops during a conflict. You occasionally hear something in the news, but for the most part people just don’t notice. And for many soldiers even admitting that these problems exits is taboo. Real soldiers don’t get worn down emotionally. Only weak soldiers do.

I have considered this carefully, and decided that I am going to share my experience on this subject. Long time readers may recall that I served in Bosnia and Kosovo. Bosnia wasn’t really all that bad. By the time I showed up the multi-national force had been in place for several years. I worked in an office, and for the most of the serious fighting had ended by the time I arrived.

But Kosovo was another matter.

Now before I go into this I want to stress a few things. I am not trying to claim that my experience in Kosovo was as bad as what soldiers in other conflicts had to deal with. This isn’t about being in some sort of pissing contest with other veterans. Soldiers in Afghanistan and Iraq experienced far worse than me. I don’t even like imagining what soldiers in Viet Nam went through. And many soldiers got through those conflicts emotionally unscathed. This is actually what trips some people up. They compare themselves to other soldiers in other conflicts and go, “Well it wasn’t as bad as they had it. I don’t have the right to feel all messed up.” But it’s not about how bad other people had it. Its about what you went through, and how it made you feel.

In Kosovo I was in a non-combat, tactical unit. This meant we traveled around “outside the wire” all day, but we weren’t specifically tasked with patrolling or engaging hostile units. We got to speak to the locals, find out their needs, advise them on US Army activities, and try to help encourage a better relationship between them and US Forces. Oh, also we were supposed to undo roughly 300 years of ethnic strife.

I wasn’t involved with very much combat. There was some while I was there, but for the most part, I was pretty lucky and avoided the worst of it.

But the sheer amount of suffering that the locals had gone through started to grind on me after a while. That and the fact that even after all that suffering, nobody was willing to quit. It was like the entire country was one giant asylum filled with the violently insane. People treated grudges from four generation ago the way you or I would treat something that happened yesterday.

And when you’re in the Army, it’s not cool to talk about how stuff like that is starting to seriously bug you. And so I kept it to myself.

Eventually I shipped back to the states. And then I had trouble sleeping. And I started snapping at the people I worked around. Eventually I decided that I needed to take up some sort of hobby in an attempt to get back into a decent head space. Since I used to build models when I was in high school, I decided to give that a try. And as I have always been a huge history nerd, I got a scale model of a Mesopotamian step pyramid. Over the course of a week, I put that sucker together until after a particularly bad day, I took it out to the parking lot and set in on fire. One of my NCOs noticed me doing this and gave me a “Are you nuts?” look, but he left it alone. As written in the manual at http://howmed.net/viagra-sildenafil-canadian/, Viagra helps to treat erectile dysfunction or impotence.

Well I felt kind of stupid after that, so I bought another one, and tried to finish it again. I got closer to finishing it, but again, a bad day set me into a rage and I took it outside and put it to the torch.

The same NCO witnessed this act as well and he decided that something was wrong. And The next day I found myself ordered to go to the health clinic to see about getting some help.

And that’s when the doctor told me the news:

“Son, if you don’t stop smoking ziggurats it’s gonna kill you.”

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For those of you who are just reading for the first time check out this post from last week.

So I have been leaving comments in Amy Proctor’s site about this, and my feelings on the subject. I pointed out that nearly every argument that she made could be applied towards banning a religion from the post, provided that someone else objected to it.

She responded with:
“Right, Skippy, banning the sexualization of women for profit on posts and banning religion are one in the same. I don’t know why i didn’t see it sooner.”

Actually, it is the same thing.

It is the exact same thing.

It is allowing one group to look at another and say, “You can’t do that because I don’t like it”. It is saying “You shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions that I don’t agree with.”

And if religion gets a free ride, what then happens when someone makes a religion around porn? There is already one based around the Jedi Knights. So its more probable that you would think. I’m sure the argument would become “No, only real religions get protected status”. Call me on it if I’m wrong, Amy.

But the Army, for better or for worse, can and does limit religious expression on post. Rastafarian’s don’t smoke pot, Wiccans could barely practice and not have their sacred items confiscated, and I’m positive that no one will be sacrificing a POW to Tláloc to ensure a good rainy season and bountiful harvest anytime soon. Heck, I’m pretty sure that the Westboro Baptist Church wouldn’t be welcome on most bases.

Now, people have tried arguing with her on facts. The damage that she claims porn will cause has not materialized in societies where porn is accepted. Nor have these kinds of harm shown up in societies that have newly accepted porn.

But facts would not sway her.

And people tried logic. They pointed out that ink and paper can’t hurt someone. That magazines sealed in plastic don’t actually effect her simply by existing. The whole “they are harmful on post but safe if stored five minutes away” borders on superstition. That, or the belief that they are somehow radioactive. (Completely inappropriate side note: What superpowers would you get from a radioactive adult magazine? Defend your choices.)

Logic would not budge her.

And so I am left with my last, and perhaps strongest tool.

Farce.

A Modest Proposal…..For Military Bases

As Amy has pointed out, people who claim to support the military and our troops must also support the families of our soldiers. There are a growing number of soldiers who also have families. And our soldiers must be secure in the knowledge that their wives, and more importantly, their children, will receive adequate care and protection at all times. A soldier who is insecure about his family’s well-being is a soldier that cannot focus on his job. And when soldiers cannot focus on their jobs it can lead to unnecessary waste, accidents, and even death.

And so, I am forced to draw your attention to a growing danger facing our military families.

Catholicism.

“But Skippy”, you might say, “Catholicism is a religion. How can you accuse a religion of being dangerous to the military family?”

And so I will demonstrate the harm.

First of all, Catholics teach symbolic cannibalism. It’s right there during Mass, where everyone can see it. Now, if a consenting adult wishes to partake in such activities during their free time, that is their right. But it should certainly be limited to off-post, because non-Catholics shouldn’t have to have their children exposed to the idea that it is okay to eat people.

Secondly, Catholics drink wine as part of their religious services. Again, adults should be allowed to whatever they like, but there are children on Army bases now. And children shouldn’t be encouraged to drink. Because alcohol has been positively linked to alcoholism.

The current leader of the Catholic Church is a former Hitler Youth. An organization that teaches that Nazis are the infallible representatives of God’s will is on our Army bases? Goodness I should hope not.

And many people worry, justifiably I might add, that certain practices on base might harm our children. But who has time to worry about ink and glossy paper when there are children who have been irreparably harmed by Catholicism? By having turgid priest injected directly into their buttholes. Which the Church condoned by covering up. And then assigning the priests to go work with other children. I don’t think that child rapists, or their apologists, belong in the same places as our soldier’s families.

And this is just the modern, current era issues. Let’s not forget the Crusades, institutionalized torture, the Inquisition, witch trials, the selling of indulgences, religious suppression, the consumption of fish on Friday, and genocide. It’s like a laundry list of unacceptable behavior.

Now I’m not saying that soldiers shouldn’t be allowed to practice their faith as they see fit. After all, they are adults and their free time is theirs to do with as they please. I’m just pointing out that common sense dictates that the behavior of the Catholic Church is incompatible with military families.

And really, is it such a big deal to make all of the Catholics go off-post to spend their free time in the manner that they so choose? I would think that the well-being of the children should definitely come first, before the selfish desires of the Catholic Faithful.

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