Here’s a quick news short of an American soldier who’s telling a story with his he camera, and speaks of losing six fellow soldiers:

We’ve all seen the emails circulating that ask you to send a Christmas card to one of the American soldiers being treated in one of our troop hospitals. This is a GOOD thing, but these chain letter emails are inaccurate… they usually instruct people to address the letter or card to “Any Wounded Soldier”, which will only get it destroyed with all the other anonymous mail. It is the policy of the USO not to deliver any mail unless it is addressed to a specific soldier — each year several hundred thousand cards are destroyed unopened.

There are two main reasons for destroying unsolicited email to troops. Foreign enemies may use letters laced with anthrax or another chemical/biological agent that will reduce the moral and effectiveness of the American fighting soldier. Domestic enemies (anti-war activists) may use letters to send demeaning and degrading messages to wounded troops (and yes, this happens more than you’d think).

My aunt and uncle run the Christian Servicemen’s Center at Fort Campbell, Kentucky and last year they received some cards from Christian friends, which they then hand delivered to wounded soldiers both locally at the post and also at Walter Reed in Washington, DC. They would LOVE to get cards to deliver to soldiers, as it gives them another opportunity to minister to them.

Simply mail your card or letter to the following address: email me for the address — obviously I can’t post it. I can, however, assure you that a lonely soldier will be encouraged by your cheery greeting and words of thanks (which my aunt usually accompanies with copious amounts of fresh church-folk-baked homemade cookies).

I live in the socialist Northeast where any slightly critical remark that could be remotely interpreted as possibly applying to a specific culture or race is totally and extremely offensive — unless, of course, you’re poking fun at rednecks/Southerners (which to ignorant Northeasters are the same people), or Christians. Oh yes… up in the Northeast you can rip any folks with a Southern twang, and any Christians who actually believe what they say they believe, up one side and down the other… and it’s okay!?

Specifically, there are these so-called redneck jokes. These little gems get passed around in email just as much by fellow rednecks (getting a chuckle laughing at themselves) as by ignorant urban bigots sipping their pansy lattes. I think it says a lot about a race or culture when they can laugh at themselves, and I guess that means it says a lot about a race or culture that CANNOT laugh at themselves [you know who you are].

Anyways… in the vein of the proto-typical “You might be a redneck if…” I actually just received an email that put a new spin on this format. I’m repeating it here with my own personal touches and a few sharper barbs. Here goes…

You might be a redneck if…

• it never occurred to you to be offended by the phrase “one nation, under God”… or by seeing the 10 Commandments posted in public places… or by hearing “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Winter Holiday”
• you bow your head when someone prays, and you don’t feel uncomfortable or ashamed when you they get to the “In Jesus’ name… Amen” part
• your music talks about hard work, being honest, and fighting for your country… more than it talks about selling drugs, hitting women, and committing murder
• you stand up straight (if able), remove your hat, and place your hand over your heart when you hear the National Anthem
• you treat our armed forces veterans with great respect, and always have
• you’ve never burned an American flag, never picketed a military recruiting center, and never shouted into the face of a policeman
• you know what you believe and you aren’t afraid to say so, no matter how many leftist censors are listening
• you raised your kids to respect their elders, say please and thank you, and own up to their own mistakes
• you’d give your last dollar to a friend… or drive your pickup over to help a neighbor… or deliver a veterans’ widow some dry firewood on a cold winter day… or fight a raging fire inside a stranger’s home

The truth of the matter is that if the United States had twice the rednecks it does… it’d be ten times the country it is.

Which reminds me of another redneck joke I received that I feel paints an accurate picture of that culture:

The Pentagon announced TODAY the formation of a new 500-man elite fighting unit called the United States Redneck Special Forces (USRSF).

[insert picture of rednecks holding ridiculously sized rifles]

These boys will be dropped off in Iraq and given only the following info on terrorists:

1. The season opened today
2. There is no limit
3. They taste just like chicken
4. They don’t like beer, pickups, country music or Jesus
5. They are directly responsible for the death of Dale Earnhardt

Scouring the internet produced records of some rich S(c)hreckengost history. Below is a snippet of what I found regarding the Shreck gunsmiths of PA:

It was also during this time, during the 1840s and 50s, when the most well-known Schreckengost family gunsmiths, descendents of Conrad, William (1821-1894), Levi, and Lincoln Schreckengost (1865-1949), started to create their particular firearms. William Schreckengost of Putneyville, Wayne Township, owned a general store/inn/gunshop along Mahoning Creek, although tax lists “consistently show him as a gunsmith.” His guns are frequently encountered. He was an unusually good engraver. He lived in Putneyville, Armstrong County, all his adult life. He married three times: to a Miss Nulph; to Pricilla Potts, mother of gunsmith Levi Schreckengost; and to Mary Heller. His tools, guns, and gun parts were sold at public vendue on 8 October 1894. A number of guns, ranging from a heavy barrel target model to a double barrel rifle (over-under) were offered.

The sons of William built distinctive and affordable rifles ($28) for the local population. They purchase their locks and imported German silver for inlay work from a Pittsburgh firm. The butt-stock design of the rifle is a “roman nose” pattern and was designed to be fired from the upper arms, and not the shoulder, for better accuracy. As was already noted above, William and Lincoln also built exotic guns such as “over-under” rifles, heavy target rifles, or short sporting rifles. All rifles build by William, Levi, and Lincoln Schreckengost were percussion cap.

I can’t even begin to guess what a rifle in this fine a condition would be worth… and as such this family treasure is kept in an undisclosed location. This rifle is in the family of rifles called Pennsylvania-Kentucky rifles, crafted in those and surrounding states by German settlers beginning in the 1700s. You can read more about these rifles here:

http://johno.myiglou.com/kyrifle.htm
http://patentpending.blogs.com/patent_pending_blog/2004/11/the_kentucky_ri.html
The Pennsylvania-Kentucky Rifle, by Henry Kauffman

The Acting

This was a pure gem for Robert Downey Jr. as he masterfully filled the shoes of our metallic hero. With all the problems Downey has had in the past it’s easy to approach his performance skeptically… until the movie starts. The ease and comfort with which he fell into the role of Tony Stark (Iron Man) is nearly dizzying, as was his command of the camera and fellow actors.

Stark is a complex character who’s unbridled and energetic approach to women and engineering (a winning combination tantamount to chocolate and peanut butter) would leave both the geekiest slacker-geniuses and the smoothest lady-killers equally schooled. Downey fit the part like a glove.

Jeff Bridges and Gwyneth Paltrow also rise to the acting occasion to round out the cast of conflicted characters. Bridges was excellent and sold the corporate suited Obadiah Stane. Paltrow, looking better than ever, deftly portrayed a demure yet savvy “Pepper” Potts (Stark’s assistant) including near-perpetual nonchalance at Stark’s antics.

The Physics

Being an engineer I always have a hard spot for bad science (especially physics) in movies. By “bad” I don’t mean things like light sabers or warp drive… I mean science that violates known and common laws of physics.

Now, it’s believable that some super-armor can absorb severe impacts by missiles and bullets… but if you’re inside the suit you still will feel the full forces from your sudden changes in velocity. In Iron Man there are times when Stark’s body undergoes accelerations and decelerations that would near-liquefy his brain, yet he easily survives.

At other times Stark lands (on his feet) onto both hard and soft surfaces from incredible speeds and without leaving much of an imprint… yet in one part of the movie just gently setting down his suit feet-first onto a concrete structure caused it to collapse – under his weight, I guess – and then collapse through an additional floor of the house down into the basement.

The Undertone

My biggest gripe, being a former soldier and perpetual patriot, is the goofy take on national defense and military weaponry that the story partially took. Stark is the mastermind behind his father’s business, the powerful weapons development and manufacturing company Stark Industries. After Stark’s ordeal at the beginning of the movie he starts to rethink the morality of creating weaponry after seeing his weapons used by the bad guys to hurt innocent people.

Hollywood frequently interjects leftism into its movies, and I’ve become numb to their depiction of the US military as a shoot-first outfit. Iron Man was a little better at not doing this. But the annoying thing is that the inevitable conclusion to Stark’s moral crisis would have to have been: making good weapons for ourselves leads to bad people using them for evil so I should stop making good weapons for ourselves. As if our enemies would no longer have any weapons? As if the mere existence of the weapons coerces people to do evil things?

Now, I work for Lockheed Martin (but don’t speak for them in any way construed or misconstrued) and our fighter jets (or any of our weapon systems) don’t find their way into terrorists hands regardless of what Hollywood says. America’s defense technology is kept under such tight export controls that it’s a wonder sometimes even our staunchest allies can get hold of it.

And speaking of… did anybody besides me notice that Stark Industries was a completely un-subtle spoof of Lockheed Martin Corporation, the United States’ biggest defense contractor? Not only does the Stark Industries logo (complete with bold-italic capitals and elongated angle-point) look strikingly like Lockheed Martin’s, but they even make the same F-22 Raptor fighter jets!? [see photo]

The Movie

Despite my bellyaching I highly recommend this flick for any lover of action and acting. I thoroughly enjoyed it and anticipate a sequel, because what’s a comic book story without lots of sequels?

What does this say? Perhaps the type of parents that use the mall as a proxy childcare service for their school kids are of sufficiently lower class and intelligence that they are more likely to raise ignorant kids. Perhaps the schools themselves could have helped by preempting the previous Friday’s tolerance-and-sensitivity (read muzzle-straight-males) assembly to instead spend an entire day learning how every freedom we in the US enjoy (including holding ridiculous school assemblies) is only because of the American soldier and sailor (and their supporting cast). Perhaps the kids have simply succumb to parentally enabled self-absorption in sufficient quantities to preclude any comprehension apart from instant messages and ringtones.

I say that if you’re a teenager and you don’t know why your off from school on Veteran’s Day, then you should have to show up for school anyway… and clean erasers or something. And, so help you, if you’re a school kid who has been brainwashed by the leftist adults in your life, and you think soldiers are “murdering, savage, terrorist butchers”, and you don’t think the entire country owes every freedom it has to our military heroes past and present… then I have a special treat for you – you will spend the entire 24 hours of Veteran’s Day (observed) reporting to every American Legion post in your area to clean their toilets with a toothbrush.

I may be a little hardcore in my patriotism… but really, is there such a thing? True patriotism (not nationalism or imperialism) is the lifeblood of a safe and healthy nation. We can either protect what we have, knowing how much it cost us, or we can sit back and watch it erode in a sea of historical ignorance and lost perspective.

I recently enjoyed dinner with a good friend… we were former classmates, cadets, and then Army officers. He spent over a year in the sandbox. I shared with him how I had just heard that a fellow classmate we graduated with and was commissioned with (and who had reached the rank of Major) was recently murdered by a roadside bomb. It’s a reality that military personnel and families know well… but that snotty school-kid peace activists know nothing about the significance of.

But today, the fact is that many World War 2 vets are passing away every day. I’ve played taps at their funerals. I’ve heard the rifles salute the fallen. These are citizens who take with them to the grave more wisdom and perspective than I can imagine. I can only hope that we as a nation absorb as much as we can from this dying generation of heroes.

Happy Veteran’s Day. Find a vet near you who may not have many years left and thank them from the bottom of your heart.

You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There’s more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!
~ Scrooge, to Marley – A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

So recently I had a dream where I was in an interplanetary university exchange program, and I was taking advanced medical classes at a futuristic galactic teaching hospital… alongside the characters from the hit TV show Grey’s Anatomy (which I am addicted to and probably watched several hours of before this dream).

So here I am, not really knowing anything about medicine, but having a good time chumming up with the characters of Grey’s Anatomy. Soon I realize that I am in this exchange program as a military officer, because I notice I am in uniform. I start running into soldiers at the medical installation who are familiar to me (for real)… and I realize they are my soldiers who were in my real-life US Army unit. It dawns on me that in my dream I am still an officer in my old unit… except that now we are an intergalactic strike force! How cool is that? And for some reason my whole unit is with me for my medical training.

Well… eventually the Galactic Empire attacks the planet we’re on – yes, the same Galactic Empire from the Star Wars movies. I don’t know why they attacked, but it may have to do with galactic domination.

So everybody at the medical installation starts freaking out… including the Grey’s Anatomy characters who conduct themselves entirely as any Grey’s fan would expect them to. I’m racing around trying to summon up my soldiers to mount a hasty defense. There is a lot of chaos and there are stormtroopers and planetary security forces fighting everywhere. I’m able to get most of my soldiers assembled. I quickly bark out orders to my NCOs to form up for a counter-attack. They take their soldiers into positions in front of a huge field next to the main building of the medical installation. This field was not anything like the Endor moon from Return of the Jedi… this was more like something from Little House on the Prairie.

In the dream I know that there will be heavy mechanized units assaulting the medical installation using this field as an avenue of approach. I plan on counter-assaulting this force’s flanks with my ground troops. Unfortunately, I quickly realize that I have no weapon. Worse yet, my unit has no weapons!? So all of us start scrambling to grab loose weaponry from dead stormtroopers and security forces laying about. Eventually, we find weapons and get in concealed flanking positions. We see an Imperial Walker and several Scout Walkers poke above the grassy knoll at the top of our field – not 40 yards away. My NCOs watch for my hand signal to open up on the objective.

Then I wake up. I’m sure we would have whooped ‘em.

I received on Facebook the pictured request above… go ahead and click for detail. It was a request from my wife’s Facebook account to confirm that indeed we are married. This is what we would call a “no-brainer”… but it just struck me as quite exceptional to be asked by my wife – via social network – to confirm our marriage. It must be the 21st century.

This also got me thinking about my days as a civilian supervisor/instructor at a nuclear training platform. We would have to train and nuclear-qualify sailors to go out and operate the nuclear fleet. In the training process we graded students on a 4.0 scale, with a 2.5 always being the “passing” grade.

Long story short, an instructor questions a student on some topic to determine if they demonstrate at least a passing level of knowledge. Sometimes (or quite often) the instructor feels like they are having to pull the knowledge out of a student… perhaps because the student doesn’t really have all the facts tied together in their mind as nicely as they should. Eventually the instructor can get to the point of straight out “telling” the student the right answer to see if they at least recognize it as correct… to see if their face brightens but a little… the slightest gaze of familiarity… no attempt at refutation.

If the student can muster enough where-with-all to recognize the correct answer when it’s placed right in front of them, then an instructor will (usually) pass them with the minimum 2.5 and write down on their grading sheet, “Knows right answer when told”.

Among graduates of the Nuclear Operations Program it becomes a colloquialism of sorts, when faced with a decision where the right answer is obvious and the wrong answer is not desirable, to spout out, “Two point five – knows right answer when told”.

“Shall I take your wallet out of your jeans before I throw them in the wash?” “I’ll have to upgrade your seats to first class for free, okay?” “Do you want to take your keys out of the ignition before locking the car?” “Would you like to confirm your relationship with your wife?”

Flying out of Albany International Airport has become a real treat. Newly renovated and clean airport. Fast lines. Not crowded. Efficient even at its busiest. Smaller airports are just that much better post-9/11. However, my iPod nano earned me a wanding and a frisking after I forgot it in my pants going through the detectors (my fault).

One thing that really bugs me about the uppity security these days is the incomprehensibly insane use of “randomness” to spot-check travelers with extra measures. Most TSA workers will let travelers who fall into the terrorist-typical demographic just pass by – usually for fear of legal reprisals instigated by Islamic defense foundations… while little old white men in wheel chairs who can barely walk are made to struggle to their feet for a wanding and frisking – all in the name of “not singling anybody out”.

Now, the fact is – not all Muslim men aged 17-33 are terrorists… not even half are… not even 1% percent are (I don’t think). BUT, almost all terrorists have been Muslim men aged 17-33. Doesn’t that tell us something about how we should protect ourselves? I mean… do we really have to jerk around the poor old man in the wheelchair just to feel good about how “fair” and “sensitive” we are?

Okay, so Tami and I walked the National Mall… which to my dismay was not a place to shop. The monuments were handsome and dignified. The memorials were plentiful and truly moving… I especially enjoyed the World War II memorial (always makes me want to watch Band of Brothers again… but that’ll be discussion for another post).

View the full gallery of Washington, DC pictures here.

While at the World War II memorial I could see a few scattered vets recounting battles, scars and lost friends to their families or even to strangers – whoever would listen. I was listening. A quote inscribed onto a granite wall says it best:

OUR DEBT TO THE HEROIC MEN AND VALIANT WOMEN IN THE SERVICE OF OUR COUNTRY CAN NEVER BE REPAID. THEY HAVE EARNED OUR UNDYING GRATITUDE. AMERICA WILL NEVER FORGET THEIR SACRIFICES.

President Harry S. Truman

Yet, an inescapable incongruence gnawed at my gut as I stood at the World War II memorial. You see, we often hear the phrase “Support Our Troops” – mostly justified, but perhaps tossed about too flippantly at times… much like the American Flags purchased on September 12, 2001, that by September 20 were sitting atop their owners’ trash heaps. However, even more curious to me is the phrase “I support the troops, but I don’t support the war.” I don’t question the patriotism of this phrase’s speaker simply because of the phrase… but it seems that many of this phrase’s speakers actively disregard, dismiss and even loathe the military. I personally know a few of the exceptions… but the rule prevails easily. As I stood at these war memorials – and the feeling of national sacrifice and diligence stirred my insides – the inescapable incongruence gnawed at me. How can you “support the troops” while you are holding rallies “against the war” and calling out American soldiers as rapists and murderers? How can you “support the troops” when all your activism is geared towards raising money for partisan political organizations and for “impeaching Bush”?

I would be remiss not to mention the DC rail system – the Metro. I am spoiled with NYC’s subway system that is a flat $2 fee no matter where you go. The DC Metro fee system was nearly incomprehensible. I started laughing when I saw it… each stop has it’s own individual charge!? Check out the picture of the kiosk below to see what I mean.

And alas, while flying out of Albany is a pleasure, flying out of BWI is painful… very painful. The lines at security were retardedly and unnecessarily long. One guy got sick of waiting and started cutting in front of huge groups of people. The TSA checker nearest me saw the man doing this (mostly because a few justifiably angered travelers spoke up) and ordered him to stop and stand fast – but he told her “no” and said if she didn’t like it she could call her supervisor. She did, and her supervisor came over… and did NOTHING!? I could overhear him say that because the guy was really mad about the long line that they’ll just leave it be. Wait a minute – this guy can cut in front of people, swear at the people who object, disobey the lawful orders of a uniformed TSA worker… and TSA security does nothing? Whiskey tango foxtrot?

You know… if you’re gonna’ be stupid, you gotta’ be smart about it.

I love one-liners, and the poetry of this one rang true in my ears as soon as it left my lips. I quickly Googled to see if anyone had ever officially said it yet (like Yogi Berra), and to my delight they had not. So I get to have my very own one-liner… my very own Yogiism. Well done me.

The event that stimulated this burst of reason was this – I was told of a group on the website Facebook (a social networking site similar to MySpace) that was entitled “Henry Mills sucks penis” [the name has been changed]. This group was started and joined by current and former members of a local Christian school… and the object of their wrath, Mr. Mills, is a well-respected official of that same school and church. The group’s Facebook page includes disrespectful and insanely inappropriate and infantile content that I won’t share here.

Now… how nervy do you have to be to create and/or join such a group actually using your primary Facebook account with your name and picture displayed for any school official or parent to identify… and to do this while having not yet graduated from the school?! While you’re at it why don’t you just set your diploma on fire right now?! And needless to say, once the school found out about this Facebook group just a few days ago, it was quickly put out of its misery.

So upon hearing this story I exclaimed, “You know… if you’re gonna’ be stupid, you gotta’ be smart about it!” There is harmony in this statement – it’s found in the mix of bumbling wisdom and denotative paradox. But as I pondered, I discerned some “deeper” force at work here. So I put my thoughts down in the form of a socio-algebraic law:

Mooradian’s Law of Multiplicative Idiocy

As the probability of an individual or entity to engage in an idiotic action increases, the faulty cognitive processes driving this increase also propend the same individual or entity to engage in further related idiotic actions, such that the original idiocy is amplified through a mechanism of synergistic multiplication. This described propensity incites a daisy-chain of idiotic action occurring independent of (and possibly in addition to) the coincidental succession of an individual’s or entity’s natural random idiocy as expressed by a Poisson distribution.

As a previous leader of soldiers, I truly saw this law in action. Anyone who’s been in the military knows soldiers and sailors sometimes have an affinity for mayhem. And certain sailors and soldiers have perfected foolishness down to a black art. Now, it amazed me how my soldiers would sometimes commit egregious acts of idiocy, and follow it up by recording their actions in photographic or audio-visual form – thereby supplying incrimination leading to their own demise!? That’s the law of multiplicative idiocy.

Recently, on a local blog, I was conversing with an argumentative and illogical fellow. No sooner had I soundly discounted all his faulty lines of reasoning, when a mysterious second fellow appeared on the blog and echoed the first fellow’s identical illogic. Little did “either” of them know that I’m an admin for the blog… and I could see that “both” fellows were posting from the same IP address! Upon greater inspection, a third and fourth troublesome fellow on the blog were also from this same IP address! When pressed for the truth, the original fellow claimed that the other “three” fellows were indeed real people (housemates) whom he shared his home computer with. Of course, he couldn’t then explain why when I tracerouted his IP address it routed back to a single-point external gateway for a local health insurance company (as verified by their IT security staff). That’s the law of multiplicative idiocy.

How about the lady who tried to pay for her Wal-Mart merchandise with a counterfeit bill? She used a bill of such a high denomination ($1 Million) that not only did the store have no choice but to examine the bill with such scrutiny as would certainly discover the fake… but the store wouldn’t have had nearly enough cash to even make change, anyway! That’s the law of multiplicative idiocy.

The robber who empties the convenience store cash register, but then pays for a soda with his credit card before leaving. The student who vandalizes school property, then brags about it to a teacher. The man who shows up to DUI court drunk. That’s the law of multiplicative idiocy.

Last night I whisked my wife (whom I married Biblically in one-man/one-woman matrimony) off to a local shooting range where we celebrated the 2nd Amendment to the Constitution of the United States. Local marksman Bernie Gansle generously offered his instruments of freedom for us to send heavy metal downrange. The AR-15 was very much like my old friend, the M-16… but I also made a new friend, the Colt 45 semi-automatic. And by the way, this was my wife’s first shoot, and she did VERY well.

Afterwards we enjoyed some delicious Sam Adams Seasonal Summer Ale at a local eatery while watching the Red Sox play the Yankees. In between refreshing sips of ale I enjoyed steak smothered in caramelized onions paired with garlic-mashed potatoes. MMMmmmm.

Rifle / pistol shooting – Major League Baseball – steak and potatoes – Boston-brewed ale… and THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is how it’s done!

This day is not “just another day”. Many will tritely dismiss this as an unnecessary formality. Many will claim that they can “honor the fallen” any day they wish and choosing a particular day doesn’t make it more real. I respect that remembering the sacrifices of our servicemen and women can be an “everyday” affair… but in the hustle and bustle of our personal rat races it helps to have a special day set aside.

This sounds cliché, but most folks don’t know how lucky they are to live in a free country like the United States. Indeed, being born here is akin to winning the cosmic lottery. This country, filled with wealth and opportunity, was forged by courage and washed in the blood of the brave. We should never take for granted what was paid for at so dear a price, lest we lose it.

So today, I’ll remember why I’m free to type whatever I want here on my blog without fear of state-sponsored beatings and reprisals. I will probably pause when my eye catches the waving of one of the many American flags flying today. Perhaps I’ll even have the privilege of hearing the Star-Spangled Banner. I say “privilege” because that’s what it is… it’s a rare jewel to have a national anthem sincerely representing one’s hard-fought freedom.

And, yes, I question the patriotism of all the cynical fools who would besmirch the flag of this nation, or what it stands for. I have family and friends who have given their lives to defend the flag, and I will gladly hit Google Maps to help someone navigate from the US to a place that flies a flag they like better.

Not only is today Memorial Day, but May is National Military Appreciation month. May 19 was Armed Forces Day. May 23 was National Military Spouse Day. I suggest honoring the fallen by also honoring those serving right now, and their families… and here’s a few easy online ways how:
Sponsor care packages // Send some coffee // Send a letter // Support the USO

The folks at Boca Java Gourmet Coffee & Tea have put together Blogger’s Fuel.com devoted to their blogging coffee fans and the fans’ favorite blends. Now, what I think really sets these guys apart is not just great coffee (at good prices even for the internet) but that they use people’s passion for coffee to channel passion towards rising up for various worthy causes (like fighting cancer and fighting evil). You can see how this thought pattern resonates well with bloggers as a whole.

The coffee… is great and fresh. My personal favorite? Definitely the “Bloggers Pajama Passion” which is kinda a gay name, but is flavored with hints of vanilla, caramel, and kahlua. MMmmmm…. It hits the spot with me, especially with a bit ‘o the creme. I’ve always been a fan of flavored coffees (unlike some of my more ‘purist’ associates) and this stuff does not disappoint. I suck it down and I feel great like the caffeinated epicurean I am! If you don’t like flavored they have an ample mix of regular blends from the richest coffee fields on this rock.

Now I am most impressed with their commitment to the troops. As a former officer myself I know the importance of having coffee out in the field… both for keeping me sane and keeping my troops going strong. They started an effort called Operation Million Cup whose goal it was to get coffee in the mugs of our troops. They let you buy a bag of coffee at production cost that they’ll send to the troops… and then they match your donation one for one with a bag of their own! Recently they just tipped a million cups donated, but they’re still going for as long as we have men and women out there busting their hump serving this country – so check it out: www.OperationMillionCup.com.

What then blows my mind is how the media want to jump all over the news that he was still alive for a brief period after being rocked by a couple 500lb instruments of love. I heard clips from a press conference where reporters were practically salivating to find out if he was “roughed up” by US troops… or whether or not his and other bodies were treated with the proper Muslim customs, whatever the heck that means.

Insanity. I don’t remember hearing any concern from the media whatsoever about the treatment any of the beheaded hostages received. Maybe I should repeat that… I don’t remember hearing any concern from the media whatsoever about the treatment any of the beheaded hostages received. Seriously… I heard nothing on whether or not they were beheaded with a kosher machete… or what about if they were allowed any last words or a hot meal?

The talking heads of the media have an agenda. Foremost is the alarmist tone that they know sells more newspapers and advertising time than the “mundane” good-news stories (the same alarmism that will have every light breeze coming out of the Gulf of Mexico this summer on the front page). But they’ll also try to find any wrongdoing by US troops that they can. They’ve even printed crap photographs incorrectly cited as civilians executed by US troops. Unfortunately the Muslim furor that brews from journalistic gaffes like this aren’t targeted at the gaffe-makers… but at US troops. If only… IF ONLY… insurgents would target careless journalists, then the newspapers and airwaves would be a better place.