1.02.2008

Fuccitol

Let's not beat around the bush with this one and get straight down to brass tacks.

Here you are, deployed, young, dumb, and ugly. You've got to get to a point where you just say "Fuck it, fuck it all, I honestly could not give a shit less." And dammit, I maintain that THAT'S the answer we're looking for. Security and ETS date, for everything else, there's Fuccitol.

I'll tell ya, this whole army shindig, it's been great, really, but the truth is that we're done. Dooooone. Really, we just don't give a shit and we aren't thrilled by playing war these days. Like always, it's just time. That's all it is, and then we're out of here, back to the states to act like ravenous beasts without a shred of decency or self control. Unapologetically.

When you find yourself shooting at stray cats and dogs in your outpost with a paintball gun (y'know, to keep them from getting into the trash, not because it's FUN or anything....) there's a moment of relief. It's when you realize that you're doing nothing but fucking off, acting like a kid and cackling like a banshee while a yellow-spattered cat sprints for the gate. There's plenty of reasons NOT to laugh in a place like this.

But fuck that and fuck anyone who thinks it's even remotely weird or unprofessional that I'll gladly embrace this logical madness of just letting go. Safety out in sector, that's the ONLY thing one should worry about. The rest is all assclownery and blowing off steam and not giving a good goddamn who's looking. Cuz I'll tell you what, when my time comes to bounce out of this clusterfucking bullshit parade, I'll be grinning from ear to ear with my middle fingers extended, and I'll take that GI Bill, ah thankyou verymuch. Did my time, put in my four years, wonk wonk, and that's it, now I take MY life off of hold. You're welcome, America, whoever or whatever you are, for whatever it is I supposedly did, and have a lovely day. Never ask another thing of me again. Here are my taxes. Blow some shit up for me.

We leave here, and it's all partying and getting stupid, doing re-deployment paperwork and screening and other such peepshows, while we laugh in the face of it all, not giving one flying fuck about any part of the process, not about ANYTHING except for catching up on the things we missed out on.

The smart guys that only signed up for three years will come back, go on leave, come back, and outprocess. Other people, the re-enlisting types, the Odd Ones, will move to other units, other duty stations. Leaving behind those few of us, the ones with a little less than a year to stick out until we're done. That few of us that couldn't care less about anything, the few that will laugh at the new guys, patronize their questions, belittle their drinking abilities, dare them to do stupid things that will get them in trouble.

We'll be that group of Seniors that didn't graduate with their class. The Mad Ones. It'll be a miracle if we leave this Show with the same rank. I'm supposed to remain a Specialist for a year after being in Iraq? HAHAHAHAHAAHAH!!!!! GOOD FUCKING LUCK!!!

"Oh, cool, you thinking of going to the NCO board?"

FUUUUUUUUUUCK NOOOOOOO! Hahahahaha, you must've lost your mind. I don't want any responsibility, I don't want to be accountable for any new Joes, or any old ones. At best, I'll play along with the Charade for those months, just to get by, just to make it easy, but it's all going to be one long joke to me. I'll be gutlaughing for a year, at the audacity of it all, returning from Iraq and back to the pretentiousness of ordinary life, KNOWINGLY doing it, embracing every hypocrisy I can, being that average lowest common denominator no one average Joe, not giving a damn about anything, because I'm NOT in Iraq and there are bountiful amounts of alcohol for me to consume and real women everywhere you look (you won't realize this, but trust me).

They'll all shake their heads and wish I was still in Iraq, still a respectable young man, and not the outlandish, frighteningly indifferent, socially reckless smirking curmudgeon that'll return. Sheer lunacy, madness, sucking LIFE dry. The complete opposite of Fear and Loathing. Hungry for everything, burning with insane desire, and invulnerable to the everyday bullshit.

If it doesn't explode or travel a thousand feet per second, there's no reason to worry about it. I can't even hear you yelling at me for taking my sweet time in your fast lane, and I don't care anyway. After being in "control" (read: subjegated) in one world, this old world I might have come from at one point is in for a surprise when I seize it by the throat and shake it for all it's worth.

So you know what? You want to pile on seemingly meaningless missions, fruitless patrols, anything you want, by all means, please do. Because I'm just smoking and smiling and soaking up the misery, like a sponge, like I need it to breathe. I'll take it all in and savor it, like sucking on anything bitter you can get your hands on, just to make the sugar taste that much sweeter later on.

I don't care about the direction of this country. I have no power over it beyond simple SuperSoldier-to-Iraqi civilian interaction, so fuck it, anything I have no control over, I have no time to worry about. Couldn't give a damn less. It's all Britney Spears and Paris Hilton news to me. It may kick in my gag reflex, but I won't give it a second thought. Cuz I've got a cynical optimism and a big bottle of Fuccitol and I Just. Don't. Care.

Cuz if you seriously want to know, this is what happened:

I hit the bottom, rock fucking bottom, and I realized that it wasn't bad at all. Very underrated. Bullshit doesn't take fruit at the bottom too well, and there's no room for excess baggage. When you have nowhere to go but up, how can you NOT smile? A wide, cynical, diabolical plotting smile, like a convict who just had an epiphany, the perfect escape plan. In the end, that's all that this is anyway.

Rock bottom and not a single weight on my shoulders. They can't touch me. So tap the keg and start counting down the months and keep the Holy men on speed dial.

10 Comments:

  1. WmEarl said...
    Gravity Rules! you haven't hit bottom yet, but are just screaming on the way down. Take a deep breath and relax so you bounce a bit when Earth meets your fragile frame of mind... it does matter, but most of what you can do something about is in your boots, listening to that music, wondering why - and that makes us philosophers... take care it counts.
    Anonymous said...
    I wish I could say something wise that makes you smile, or gentle that helps you feel better, but...

    I got nothing...

    I'm glad you have this outlet and that we're allowed in it.

    Lynda
    Anonymous said...
    ...with thanks to wmearl for those good words. And when you get back and things begin to settle, you are in a credible position to get busy and help do something about all of this, right?
    4/2 mom
    CresceNet said...
    Gostei muito desse post e seu blog é muito interessante, vou passar por aqui sempre =) Depois dá uma passada lá no meu site, que é sobre o CresceNet, espero que goste. O endereço dele é http://www.provedorcrescenet.com . Um abraço.
    Anonymous said...
    Funny how I read through the whole entire blog, and all I picked up on was "doing redeployment paperwork." You can say FTA all you want. Those of us who said it long ago, have forgotten why we said it ourselves. Come to think of it, I don't recall ANY Sonju past or present who stuck out 20 yrs. Allan's not a Sonju, and he wants to keep it that way. Paul did, but then again he's way too smart & way too sober to remotely claim Sonju-hood. So, from all the post-military Sonju's, welcome to FTA-ville! Way to go, and we'll see you soon!

    Aunt Sandy
    themorethingschange... said...
    Clusterfuck! My favorite adjective for politics...and politicians meddling in military planning...(read: LBJ, et al)

    earl is right...wouldn't hurt to remind yourself:

    "most of what you can do something about is in your boots, listening to that music, wondering why..."

    twice daily -- use it to chase that B12...

    ~P~
    Anonymous said...
    Hang in there Suspect, just try to keep your sh#t blinders on and you'll make it through. The experiences you've written about, all the military BS and the general attitude it breeds reminds me alot of my own experiences in the "suck"(USMC) during the late 80's, early 90's. Hated dealing with all the idiots and BS, couldn't wait to get the fu#k out and get on with my life. Now almost 20 years later I look on those years as some of the most memorable in my life. Of course time has allowed me to forget, or maybe just block out, most of the crap that went on. I guess its really all the great times my buddies and I had together while in the corps that make it memorable and worth it.

    Thanks for writing, take it easy and keep telling it like it is!

    Smitty
    (an ex-USMC TOW Critter)
    Red said...
    you said clusterfuck!!! That totally made my day!!

    Keep on keepin' on, Suspect. I wish I had something better to say, but I don't. Your blog rox, and I'm glad you're keeping a sense of humor- albeit a morbid one.
    mamaworecombatboots said...
    "Oh, cool, you thinking of going to the NCO board?"

    FUUUUUUUUUUCK NOOOOOOO! Hahahahaha, you must've lost your mind. I don't want any responsibility, I don't want to be accountable for any new Joes, or any old ones.

    Maybe you should rethink that strategy. The only way out of the muck is UP. When you are the one in charge, you get to say how it goes. That worked better for me than writhing under the thumb of the idiot above me. The war is what it is, but you'll have a little more control over your personal life. My son got back from a three day convoy at 2100 Christmas Eve, then was rousted out at 0700 to detail vehicles. WTF! Told him the same thing--to get out- go UP and NEVER do the same idiotic things to anyone else.
    Take care-you'll be home soon
    Jessie said...
    beyond simple SuperSoldier

    You have a snake in your head? Sorry, just trying to bring a little levity into the midst. Nothing else to add, because honestly, it isn't my world, and hasn't been.

    And a word of advise: don't drive slow in the fast lane while in Atlanta. Sanity isn't running rampant on the subject.

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