the Skyblog

A Letter to the Commission on Presidential Debates

2016-09-17T10:03:00.003-07:00

The Commission on Presidential Debates (or CPD for short) just denied the Libertarian and Green Party candidates from participating in the upcoming Presidential Debates. It's absolutely disgusting, and whether or not you support any of the third party candidates, you should be upset.

This private organization controls a disproportionate amount of influence and power in the political arena. They alone determine who does and doesn't qualify as a "legitimate contender" in the presidential race. Since when did we as Americans surrender that determination to some money making machine?

You should be upset, regardless of your political leanings, because this organization alone shapes the message and choices of the entire election. It restricts the amount of information you receive. It hampers the democratic process by manipulating the choices presented to the people. It falsely presents the same two options as the ONLY two options. It ignores large swaths of the population's wishes by propagating the two party system at the expense of true representation.

The only contact I could find for the CPD was for their media department (media@debates.org and 202-872-1020). So I wrote up a little letter and emailed to them. I would encourage you to do the same. Because this is un-American and disgusting.

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To the Commission on Presidential Debates,

As this is the only contact email I can find for your organization, I will use it to tell you how disgraceful it is that you deny third party candidates the opportunity to debate. Your mission statement reads:

The Commission on Presidential Debates (CPD) was established in 1987 to ensure that debates, as a permanent part of every general election, provide the best possible information to viewers and listeners.

You in fact directly contradict this mission statement by barring entry to third party candidates. You are actually restricting information to viewers and listeners by misguiding them into believing that what is on your stage represents the full spectrum of political views in contention for the White House.

If the second half of your stated mission is in fact your mission, you are failing miserably at that as well. It reads:

Its primary purpose is to sponsor and produce debates for the United States presidential and vice presidential candidates

Now, I don't think anyone disagrees that you are at least doing this much, but your mission statement continues:

and to undertake research and educational activities relating to the debates.

The "research" featured on your website is laughable and outdated. Discussion groups and forums from 1997 do not qualify as research. You seem to need some help in this department. Here are a couple excellent research question for you: At what point is an organization that is supposedly dedicated improving the democracy of a nation considered corrupt? Here's a hypothesis for you to test: when it directly contradicts its mission statement in favor of, say, eliminating competition to established political ideologies. That one should keep you busy for a while, assuming you actually conduct what academia refers to as research, as opposed to your extremely loose interpretation of research.

Your organization is seen by me and many as corrupt, advancing the two party stranglehold on American politics while effectively silencing all other voices. At this point, it doesn't matter if this perception is valid or not; what matters is that your organization is no longer viewed as non-partisan and non-profit. It is viewed as corrupt. As a private organization, you hold the power to change the criteria for who makes it onto the debate stage. Ultimately, without major reform, you hold the power to change the debates for the better. You have the power to change the perception of your organization from one of corruption to one of a champion of democratic ideals. Provide the best possible information to viewers and listeners by allowing more voices to be heard. Truly examine the nature of democracy and the role of public debates like the ones you sponsor. Live up to your non-partisan and non-profit nature.

Until you do these things, shame on you, and on the detrimental effect your organization is having on the democratic process of our nation. It's truly disgusting.

Sincerely,

Choosing "The Lesser of Two Evils" is Wasting Your Vote

2016-05-13T10:04:00.001-07:00

I saw this a while back on Facebook, before either candidate had secured their party's nomination. I laughed along and added my own "Like" with the other 50,000+ "Likes" this image had. Since then, I've seen variations of this image crop up here and there, along with a running commentary that always ends up like this:

"I can't believe I have to choose between Trump and Hillary. Guess I'll move to Canada."

...

What?

As if those are the only two options! As if as an American, you can only vote for one of two people, or one of two parties. As if to say that if you vote for anything else, you're "wasting your vote."

What!?

Please: the only way you can waste your vote is by using it to signal to the rest of America that you believe in something that you don’t actually believe in. If you truly believe that either “Nope” or “Noper” is best for America, please vote for them, but if not, vote for someone you believe in. ANYONE you believe in. Write yourself in for all I care. Write in “None of the Above.” Just don't lie to me, your fellow citizen, by saying you want someone to be president when you don't actually want them to be president.

The Lesser of Two Evils

This election is different though, right? I mean, given the two choices, we really have to make sure we elect the lesser of two evils, right?

Oh, wait a second… I think Jefferson just rolled over in his grave.

The idea of voting for the lesser of two evils is fundamentally flawed. Let us count the ways:

There Are More Than Two Options

Firstly, it assumes that there are only two options – Republicans and Democrats. This just simply isn’t the case. The Libertarian Party’s presumptive nominee is polling higher than ever against the establishment candidates – and that was in the first poll mentioning the Libertarian Party candidate vs the establishment candidates. The Green Party and various Independents have been around for decades and are running for President this year. According to Ballotpedia, there are 1,724 candidates that have filed a Statement of Candidacy with the Federal Election Commission as of May 2016. They provide this link to see them all. In 43 states, you even have the option of writing someone in for President on your ballot! Why would you say or think that there are only two options for President of the United States?

Sure, you say, there are technically more options, but practically speaking, only a Republican or Democrat has a chance of winning.

Why is that, exactly? Why can only a Republican or Democrat win when only 26% of voters identify as Republican and 30% identify as Democrats? That’s only 56% of America identifying as these two political parties. You’re telling me that we have to split the American vote 50-50 between two parties that COLLECTIVELY only represent 56% of Americans? Why are the other 44% who identify as Independent or “Other” voting for these two parties?? Probably because they think that there are no other options, and that they have to vote for the lesser of two evils. I just want to shake that 44% and show them how many options there actually are.

Voting For “The Lesser of Two Evils”

Is Actively Choosing Evil

(And It’s Un-American)

(Also I’m going to apologize up front for using the word “evil” a ridiculous amount of times in this section.)

Secondly, the idea of voting for the lesser of two evils assumes that if you vote for a third option, you’re allowing some evil to win… But let’s be clear: voting for a lesser evil is still voting for evil. More clearly stated, if you vote for something you think is the lesser of two evils, you are actively choosing an evil when you could instead choose a “good” that you believe in.

Morally speaking, some of us have this notion that “I just can’t allow this greater evil to win,” so we then choose a different evil. The misconception here is that the moral high ground isn’t found in choosing anydegree of evil. The moral high ground is found when you choose a good that you believe in.

From a civic duty perspective, we might think that “I can’t let this person win because it will wreck the country” so we then choose someone who will wreck it less. Our true civic duty is to vote for someone we believe will actually improve the country, not just “wreck it less.”

From a practical standpoint, we might say “There are only two legitimate options, and both are evil, so I have to pick the least bad or the greater bad will win,” but in reality, 44% of us don’t identify with either of the two bad options. We could all come together and write in Morgan Freeman on the ballot, and he could then be President in real life as well as in every movie this century.

And to be clear: I’m not trying to make any declarations about candidate A or B being evil. I’m simply trying to break down the argument that a responsible voter has some kind of moral or civic obligation to use their vote to choose the lesser of two (and only two) perceived evils. Adhering to this idea is un-American on multiple levels: it misrepresents your views; it constrains you to only two options as opposed to unlimited options; it constrains you to vote for perceived evil at every ballot; it perpetuates the idea that you don’t have your own voice, only one of two voices; and it perpetuates two dominant, unrepresentative political parties.

You Will Never Be The Deciding Vote

Thirdly, voting for the lesser of two evils supposes that you actually have a chance to determine the outcome of the election. I hate to break it to you, but you will never be the deciding vote in a presidential election. The odds are astronomical. Even if an election went 149,999,999 votes to 150,000,001 votes, the Electoral College and the House of Representatives would come into play and determine the election.

Does that mean your vote doesn’t count? Of course not. It just means that the function of a vote is not to select a winner. It's something else entirely.

Voting Is About Being Heard

Finally, since the practice of choosing the lesser of two evils perpetuates the idea that your vote is about selecting a winner, it obscures the real power of your vote: the value of your vote is not inherent in its ability to determine the outcome of an election, but in its ability to accurately reflect your unique, individual voice. Voting isn’t about choosing the winner of an election – your vote will never do that. Voting is about self-government. It's about being represented. It's about weighing in with your unique voice on who would be the best Commander in Chief of America. It's about lending your opinions, expertise, experience, and beliefs to the rest of your fellow citizens. It is your opportunity to be counted, to have a voice, to say whatever you want to say about who should administrate the executive branch.

If you don’t vote the way you believe, you will not be truly heard. Your voice will be lost amidst the shouts of perceived popular opinion. You will lend your voice and power to the paltry 26% or 30% that truly support the establishment parties. The establishment parties’ support will be artificially inflated by your voice, because you will be counted as support for them instead of being counted as support for your own ideals. Your ideals will continue to be ignored or trampled on, because there will never be sufficient proof of support for those ideals.

But hey, at least you were heard shouting for the lesser evil, right?

What You Can Do This Election

The only way you can waste your vote is by using it to signal to the rest of America that you believe in something that you don’t actually believe in. If you honestly and truthfully believe that Hillary Clinton or Donald Trump is the best candidate for president, then please vote for them. If you are in that 44% that don’t identify as a Republican or Democrat, you might wonder what you can do, this election, to keep from wasting your vote.

Firstly, the most developed parties outside of the establishment are Libertarian Party and Green Party. You might be surprised to find yourself closely aligned with one of these two parties without ever knowing it.

Secondly, you can use sites like The Political Compassand I Side With to help you identify your own political values and beliefs, and then match them with the most popular presidential candidates. I’m not suggesting you let some quizzes decide for you, but it’s a start. Go from there and research the political ideas and candidates you come across. This is the presidential election of the United States of America, surely we have an hour or two to spend researching?

Thirdly, if you live in certain states, you can write someone in. It’s not about winning this way. It’s about being represented. It’s about being counted. There’s a pretty hilarious quote from the always colorful Jesse Ventura that applies:

“I have an idea about voting, how about on every ballot we include ‘None of the above.’ People may laugh at that, but what that is, it is a vote of no confidence in your government and I'm willing to bet that in some elections, 'None of the Above' would win. Imagine if you won the election but lost to 'None of the Above'. Wouldn't that make you re-think your positions?”

Again, it’s about being heard. You have more than two options.

My goal has been to convince you that the only wasted vote is one you cast without belief. Voting for the “lesser of two evils” is fundamentally flawed and un-American. The American ideal is that you vote for someone you believe in. The American ideal is to express yourself with your vote. The American ideal is to be represented. If you don’t vote for someone you believe in, you will never truly be represented.

And for the love of liberty, don’t use your only chance to be heard to say something you don’t believe.

#4PARTYPARTY Don't Support the Establishment Nominees? Here's Why and What To Do About It

2016-05-05T08:15:00.000-07:00

Are you a Republican who for some reason can't get behind the Republican nominee? What about a Democrat seriously split between Hilary and Bernie? I guarantee you that you are not alone.

There are 300+ million people in America, and for some reason we think that there are only two political ideologies shared by all of us. We act as if there are only two dimensions to political thought: "Right" and "Left." Thankfully, the 2016 election has caused serious political soul-searching among Americans, and hopefully their search brings them to this conclusion: there are not enough political parties in America to reflect the varied political beliefs of 300+ million Americans, and it's time to start some new ones.

When you Think of Trump and Clinton, you probably think Trump is "far right" and Hilary is "far left." And Sanders? Even further left. Well, that's not entirely accurate. According to The Political Compass (an excellent website with a simple tool to help you find yourself on the political spectrum) the current spread of candidates looks more like this:

Political Compass of 2016 Primary Candidates

Credit to The Political Compass

You see, "Right and Left" are useful tools to identify an economic position, but it doesn't do much to help you identify a social position. Thus, The Political Compass has added the "Authoritarian" top side of the chart (essentially regulating social issues) and the "Libertarian" bottom side (essentially NOT regulating social issues). I won't go into explaining the different quadrants; The Political Compass already does an excellent job of that. My concern is what to do if you find out that you're sitting in a completely different quadrant than the establishment candidates.

For instance, let's say you have socialist economic tendencies (meaning you are more for the government regulating markets and wealth), but you firmly oppose homosexual marriage and believe the government should regulate marriage accordingly. That is a "Left" economic stance and an "Authoritarian" social stance. You might end up in the top left quadrant somewhere.

Or let's say that you are all about free markets (meaining that you are for getting the government out of the economy and letting the markets do their thing), but you couldn't give a damn about two guys getting married. That is a "Right" economic policy and a more "Libertarian" social policy. That might put you in the bottom right quadrant. With me!

My Political Compass

Credit to The Political Compass

So what am I to do? Which candidate am I actually closest to? I'm going with... none! What should really happen is other traditionally Republican bottom-right-ers and I that can't get behind Trump should get together and MAKE OUR OWN POLITICAL PARTY... or just join the Libertarian Party, which is much closer to that bottom right quadrant than the establishment parties. When Hilary wins the Democratic nomination, those of you who cluster around Senator Sanders should START YOUR OWN PARTY. The reason the Democratic Party doesn't want Sanders as the nominee is because HE'S NOT A DEMOCRAT. And by extension, if you identify more with his policies than the Democratic establishment, YOU ARE NOT A DEMOCRAT EITHER. (Sorry about the bold caps; it's not about yelling at you, its more about helping me see what I'm really trying to say.

The real dilemma is that the only two political parties that people seem willing to support are 1) nearly identical in the political spectrum and 2) don't fully encompass the political spectrum, leaving many, many American disenfranchised with the parties and candidates. AND YET WE KEEP VOTING FOR THEM.

And this isn't unique to this election. Here's the political spectrum breakdown of the 2012 election from Political Compass:

Political Compass of the 2012 Presidential Election

Credit to The Political Compass

Now is the time. We have a real shot at more political parties in America. If Bernie loses the nomination and you don't can't get behind the establishment, write to him. YouTube him. Instagram him. Hashtag him. Plead with him to run anyway as an Independent or a Social Democrat or Democratic Socialist or whatever it is you want to call it, and then join his party.

If you're a Republican that just can't do Trump, then find another candidate or party to give your vote to. If you are like me in the bottom right quadrant of this spectrum, check out the Libertarian party. If that still doesn't do it for you, take to social media and hashtag your way to a collective voice and start from there.

Whatever you do, don't just perpetuate the misrepresentation of your voice by voting for someone you don't identify with.

~ Gravitational Waves ~

2016-02-12T15:32:00.000-08:00

So yeah, gravitational waves are a thing. This is kind of a big deal.

Think about that for a second. You literally distort TIME and S P A C E around you. You directly affect the very fabric of the universe. You leave a mark, an impression, that lasts forever and reverberates throughout the cosmos. Coupled with the burgeoning knowledge of quantum physics that has revealed the effect we have on reality simply by OBSERVING it, it is getting harder and harder to give any credence to the notion that what you do affects no one but yourself.

That's my story.

Credits to phdcomics.com for the excellent explanation of gravitational waves and of science-y things in general at their site. Because science.

Sweet Sixteen

2016-02-12T15:27:00.000-08:00

I can't explain it but 2016 is killin' it and it's barely February. Wait... what happened in 2015, you ask? Don't worry about that, we'll talk about it later. For now let's focus on the fact that that we're riding the Star Wars 7 high two months later, scientists proved Einstein right by detecting Gravitational Waves, Deadpool delivered exactly what Deadpool promised, I realized that "Hamilton" is the new hotness, Luke had his first piano gig and is going to finally record an album, Kyle is getting married, and Erica is graduating high school. And oh yeah I'm getting out of the Army in a month and taking a year-long Sabbatical to do whatever I want and stuff. Throw some old and new acquaintances and life-long friends into the mix and 2016 looks even more promising.

And it's February.

Ok so I guess I can kinda sorta explain it. Here's to you and me, 2016.

Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Part V: Reflections on Destiny

2014-09-05T00:47:00.004-07:00

I already explained how I kind of sort of in a round-about way chose Alaska as my first duty station in Part I of the Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Mini-Series. I won't rehash the story, but I will take a moment and reflect on Destiny.

What did I do with three years? Let's see.

-Deployed to Afghanistan

-Survived "The Legend"

-Scarecrow in Wizard of Oz

-Stryker Gunnery in Arctic Conditions

-Cold Weather Leader's Course

-Played a Dangerous Game (that I won)

-S3 Shop Veteran / Staff Wizard Level 20 (Paragon Level)

-The Road Trip that Wasn't

-More S3 Shop Shenanigans (TOCEX, LL, AS3, S3)

-Willy Wonka in Willy Wonka

-Many Holiday Dinners with the Newmans

-Tauren Marines

-Get out, Stay in, Get out, Stay in... w/e just Stay in for now

-Alexander Screenplay

-JRTC

-Body By S3

-Genesis of the Iron Temple

-Identity Crisis

-Baptism of an Arctic Warrior

-The Beluga Lady

-GOLD LEAGUE FINALLY

-Rainiest Summer EVER (seriously though, it set a record)

-Zip Line Talkeetna

This list is for me, not you, so sorry if some (or most) of this list doesn't make any sense. I'm sure there are other things that happened in the past three years that are worth remembering, but these are the ones that came to me with the least amount of thought, which signals to me that they are the most influential. I'm not sure that I'm satisfied with my own performance in the past three years (Alexander had conquered Persia by my age and Arnold had already won 6 Mr. Olympias), but I am confident that I have firmly caught on to the coattails of Destiny. I trust her to lead me to my journey's end.

And so, from the Frozen North I fly south, not just for the winter but for the foreseeable future, to the Borderland Deserts of Arizona.

I can't wait to see the Sun again.

Yes, I mean you, Sun.

Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Part IV: The "Road" Back to Civilization

2014-07-15T10:51:00.000-07:00

Oh you thought the tale was told? That the story was over? Wrong-o.

This guy had a bad day.

We should have known when we saw this car right outside Deadhorse Camp that this trip wasn't going to be all fun and games and toenail painting on the way back to Fairbanks. We had barely survived the trip up with our two (technically three) flat tires, but we were confident that the mechanics at Deadhorse Camp had patched us up nicely.

Wrong-o again-o.

We left Prudhoe Bay at 1230 and barely two hours later we had a flat. We had one spare at this point; it was time for a decision: turn around and fix this tire at Prudhoe Bay (a four to six hour detour), or try to make it FIVE HOURS to Coldfoot without getting another flat? There's no cell service, and we had no other tire, so if this spare went down, we would be stuck on the road.

This is actually from Day 1 but you get the idea.

I'll take the blame for the decision. I cast the deciding vote. The smart thing to do was go back and fix the tire, obviously. But something stirred within me... an inkling of Fate, of Kismet, of Destiny. I could feel a pull towards the South.... maybe it was just my own bed calling. For whatever reason, I voted we push on like REAL adventurers. And push on we did. You will have to decide if I made the right call or not.

As we took some time to mull over our predicament, that tire change took a good 18 minutes, the slowest one by far. We took off, pretending to be optimistic about our chances. We passed a herd of Musk Ox and Caribou (or some other such horned animal), and pointed out some bow hunters stalking them alongside the highway. An hour or so down the road (if you can call it a road), Fortune smiled upon us: the Chinese tour group we had met at the Ocean was stopped at a construction crossing. Let me explain.

The "road" to Deadhorse Camp is under constant construction. At some points it's so narrow (due to said construction) that it becomes a single-lane road. At these points, a construction vehicle called a "Pilot Car" would guild one side of traffic through the narrow lane, dodging a maze of obstacles left behind by various vehicles, equipment, and laborers. Once to the other side, the Pilot Car would drop off its convoy, allowing them to continue them on their way. It would then turn around, pick up traffic flowing in the opposite direction, and lead them back through the maze to the starting point.

The Fates had aligned just so, allowing us to meet up with them at this construction stop as we all waited for the Pilot Car to come pick us up. At this stop we traded greetings and told them about our potential disaster-in-waiting. In a heartbeat, they offered to follow us, and if we lost another tire they would lend us one of their own spares -- their ONLY spare, in fact. What excellent Humans and true Samaritans.

We were very lucky to have them with us, because not another hour later, our final spare blew out. The Chinese were there to help, as they had promised to do. We went right to work; it was already 5:00 PM and we still had a good 8-10 hours to go. Even though we had to fish out the spare from our rescuers' SUV, we were still able to get rolling again in 15 minutes.

At some point we stopped for a quick break, and who should pass us but the California Bros that we dived into the Ocean with! We gave them a fist pump of victory as they screamed by us. That might have been the last time we ever saw them, but nope. We would meet again.

Some time later, the next tire went down only THREE MILES FROM COLDFOOT. If you remember, Coldfoot is the halfway point, complete with a restaurant (omg DINNER!) and a service station. Three miles. Three. Miles.

Americans, amirite?

Our Chinese Rescuers showed up once again, laughed at us, and then agreed to shuttle a couple of us to Coldfoot in order to fix one of our tires. Once fixed, we would ride back out with our tire to the vehicle, put the tire on, and then drive our vehicle the last three flippin miles back to Coldfoot.

The entire process of getting our vehicle to Coldfoot, and then patching ALL of our tires took quite some time. While we waited for tires to get fixed, the bow hunters we had seen on the road earlier pulled into Coldfoot. Turns out that they were some of my co-workers, which was perfect because they carried the message back to my boss that I would not be back to work in time for morning PT. What are the odds, right?

Our Chinese Rescuers were done travelling for the night and settled in at a hotel nearby for the night. We couldn't count on them to babysit us anymore. Luckily - and really, it was extremely lucky - we ran into none other than the California Bros taking a break from driving at Coldfoot. They were true Road Warriors, driving an SUV with a giant snorkel, two spare tires, an air compressor and a tire patch kit. I mean, the air compressor had a button on the DASH to operate it. That's real.

The Bros offered to take the Chinese's place as our babysitters. They even hooked us up with a RADIO that they had brought with them to keep in communication should anything else come up. Like I said, Road Warriors, the three of them.

We finally pulled out at 10:00 PM, with two spares in the trunk and seven hours of driving still ahead of us. Two and a half hours later, the next tire went flat. We changed it in about six minutes and continued. An hour after that one the next one followed suit. This one took barely five minutes to replace.

Seriously, you can't make this stuff up. We were approaching Nascar-standard tire changing time, but we were out of spares. This was it. Hopefully we could make the last couple hours.

Haha nope.

Not long after using our last spare, we hit beautiful, solid pavement. It was sexy. The paint was perfect, the roadway was wide and clear, and there were even guard rails to keep us from skydiving off of the cliffs in our vehicle. We were positive that we were in the clear. So positive, in fact, that we gave the California Bros their radio back so they could pull off and get some rest at a campsite. They agreed with our assessment and told us they'd follow us to the next turn off before hitting the sack.

But Happenstance had the last maniacal, villain-like laugh. On this beautiful, sexy road that I considered marrying, we lost yet another tire. How? I have no idea. I had stopped asking how and why. I had stopped caring about the dense cloud of mosquitoes feasting on my flesh as I helped change tires. I had stopped wondering what time were going to get back. It was approaching 5:00 AM and I was more zombie than man at this point. I hadn't slept much the night before on account of pre-game jitters, and I hadn't slept much in the car because Sir Billy Fix It kept dodging potholes rather forcefully with the intent of slamming my head into the window (it amused him and kept him awake, you see).

The Road Warriors were just about as tired of driving as you are of reading this, but they still hadn't found a turn off for camping. Consequently, they rolled up on us with sunken-in eyes and broken souls, shook their heads in disbelief, and whipped out the air compressor and tire plugs. My man the Taliban Saboteur did work and plugged that tire up right. I think we made his day, giving him a chance to use that nifty system; he made our year by getting us home.

After that final tire, we made it the last 90 or so miles back to Fairbanks with the California Bros' radio in our SUV and their support following behind. They weren't going to leave us now. These true American Heroes escorted us all the way into town to make sure we made it safely.

When you stop to think about it, it's pretty awesome that complete strangers would help us out like that for so long. Both the Chinese Tour Group and the California Bros escorted us for a total of about 15 hours. We had borrowed a spare and been repaired once by them. We had gotten two shuttle rides and kept the Bros up all night. That is true Humanity right there. I'm honored to have shared not only my Arctic Warrior Baptism with them, but the road back to civilization as well.

Finally, 1000 miles and NINE FLAT TIRES later, we rolled into Fairbanks at 6:00 AM, just in time for me to make it to morning PT at 6:30 AM.

Ha, yeah right.

Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Part III: The Polar Bear Dive

2014-07-13T17:53:00.001-07:00

Day 2 started bright and early. So early in fact, that it started on May 16, 2014. The Sun hadn't set on Deadhorse Camp for almost two months by the time we woke up on July 7. For us though, it began at 5:00 AM with a flat tire.

Now, since technically this is the same tire that we filled up with air at Happy Valley - and because I don't want anyone to accuse me of exaggerating later - I'm going to keep our flat tire count at a solid "two" right now. A case may be made that this was our THIRD flat tire, but again, let's avoid even the appearance of exaggeration by keeping the count at two.

At lengths it was time for the tour. Prudhoe Bay is only about 10-15 miles north of Deadhorse Camp, so the trip to the Ocean and back can't be that long, right? The tour guide tells us: "Oh, the tour is only about THREE HOURS." What could make a thirty minute round trip with a few minutes at the Ocean a three hour tour, you ask? Well this of course:

SEE?! A DUCK! A DUCK IN THE ARCTIC! HOLD THE PHONE! STOP THE PRESSES! And look! It's got a nest! Let's stop here for fifteen minutes and look at it.

On top of that we had to dodge some serious traffic as we made our way through the oil fields. Deadhorse Camp and the Prudhoe Bay oil fields honestly reminds me of Afghanistan more than anything else. It looks like a deployment zone: crappy dirt roads that are much to small for the huge vehicles that ride on them; the temporary housing units that are all mobile and shanty looking; and the food is GREAT and you get as much as you want just for staying there. Oh look at this next pic: there goes AN ENTIRE BUILDING on the back of a truck. No big deal.

I didn't get many pictures of the oil fields for two reasons. First, there was a guy who I SWORE was an ISIS or Taliban agent here solely to blow up the pipeline. This guy was a big with a mean look and a RIGHTEOUS beard. I thought for sure he was on this tour in order to case out the fields and report back to his higher, so I was keeping an eye out. Second, I was slapping myself on the head repeatedly and chanting juvenile pre-game cheers to keep me from getting cold feet (so witty).

FINALLY, after TWO HOURS of bird watching and truck-dodging, we made it to the beach. THE BEACH! Eternal glory was just one ice-cold dip away.

And then this happened:

The water was a bone-chilling 30 degrees, and the ambient temperature was just below 40. You can hear the wind in the video, and it never let up.

I was 100% sure that I was going to go into shock from the water temperature. Sir Billy Fix It was talking to me throughout the entirety of the video footage, but I couldn't hear anything except my own pulse in my head. I just kept thinking, "I'm going to be the only Army Officer in Alaska to get hypothermia in the summer." Then I thought, "Worth it." A moment of pain and discomfort is worth a lifetime of glory.

There are some other parts of this experience that warrant special mention. The first is that the scary terrorist-looking guy was the guy in the video that went into the water with Mr. Smooth Talkin' Newman. He and his buddies turned out to be extremely cool guys from Los Angeles, California. They were on a massive road trip, and the Arctic Ocean was just one stop for them. Turns out later that if it wasn't for them, we'd probably still be at Deadhorse.

The second mention goes to the above group of Chinese tourists that were on an Alaskan adventure. Like the bros from California, this was just one stop for them. We might have never crossed paths again after this chance encounter at the edge of world, but Destiny had other plans.

Finally, after all of it: the years of fearing and avoiding the harsh, unforgiving conditions of the Arctic; camping 14 days in the mountains of Alaska during the dead of winter; surviving two winters and numerous winter training exercises stationed in one of the most remote locations on Earth; a 14-hour long drive with the Prudhoe Bay Crew; a THREE HOUR LONG DUCK WATCHING BUS RIDE; and finally a Polar Bear Dive into the Arctic Ocean on the worst possible Arctic summer day -- after all of it, I can finally claim my fears conquered and the title of ARCTIC WARRIOR. Excuse me while I add it to my list of hard-earned titles on my blog profile there on the right of your screen.

Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Part II: The Road to the Top of the World

2014-07-12T11:40:00.000-07:00

Day 1 started bright and early. 3:00 AM early in fact: that's when the sun rose. There rest of us rose shortly thereafter in order to make it to breakfast at the Newman household by 7:00 AM. Breakfast was crucial to our success as we had nothing to eat until 10:30 PM that night. So I salute you, Lisa "Mess With Me and See What Happens" and Ciara "Ms. Thing" Newman for making that breakfast. Your dedication to our crazy adventures reflect great credit upon you, the Women of the Newman Clan, and the great state of Alaska.

Without any more fanfare, we were off. We left Fairbanks at 8:30 AM and quickly lost all cell phone communication. It's always a thrilling and annoying experience to lose service for extended periods of time. Ultimately, the digital cleanse was another crucial part of the Arctic Warrior Baptism. It offered the opportunity to reflect on past and present (mis)adventures, develop a plan to avoid / treat hypothermia and shock, and really appreciate the scenery you will get a taste of below. It was only a few minutes out of town when we came upon the official start of the Dalton Highway - the Road to the Top of the World.

At 1000 AM we got our first taste of dirt road. For anyone planning to make the trip, prepare for some cruddy roads. Though there is a surprising amount of pavement between civilization and the ocean, the dirt road portions will destroy your vehicle. And their tires. All of them.

1115 AM found us at the mighty Yukon River. This beast of a river is part of a time-honored initiation process for new Alaskans involving three specific rites of passage: peeing in the Yukon River, screwing a Native, and wrestling a bear. The last two are interchangeable. In any case, I was able to knock out the first one right then and there.

We stopped around 1245 PM at the aptly named Finger Mountain. By this point I was already hyperventilating about how cold the water was going to be at our destination and worried that I my body might be shocked into taking in a breath of cold Arctic Ocean water against my will, literally drowning me in my fears. I therefore promptly scaled the highest point of the highest finger (incidentally the middle finger) and zenned out for a bit. Once I had re-centered, I was confident that even if I did take in a lungful of Arctic Ocean, the rest of the Prudhoe Bay Crew would fish me out of the water before my lifeless body floated out to sea. That was enough for me.

Thirty minutes later around 1:30 PM we entered the Arctic Circle. In layman terms, the Arctic Circle marks the portion of the Earth that receives 24 straight hours of daylight in the Summer, and 24 straight hours of darkness in the winter. Science is pretty cool. Also, if I don't look happy in this picture, it's because I'm not. I'm thinking foul, evil things about the Arctic... even though in the Summer it's quite lovely (for like three weeks).

At approximately 3:30 PM we pulled into the half way point: Coldfoot Camp. This camp got its name from some settlers who made it this far north back in the 1900s before getting cold feet (both literally and figuratively) and turned around for more southern climates. Now it's pretty much a restaurant and a service station, but I bet it was a pretty rockin place back in the day: it consisted of one gambling hall, two road houses, two stores, and SEVEN SALOONS.

At 1700 we came upon the farthest north spruce tree, which some A-hole had cut down with a chainsaw and just left there. Don't despair; hope remains. Off to the side of these pictures is another spruce that's growing up in its place.

Just past Coldfoot is Atigun Pass, a rather sketchy road alongside the mountains with multiple "Avalanche Area" signs to remind you that you're doing something stupid.

We survived the pass, but shortly thereafter encountered the first sign of trouble. The time was 6:00 PM.

The beautiful pavement that had brought us this far disappeared past Coldfoot and it became a hard, rocky road that straight tore up this tire. Undeterred by this setback, the Prudhoe Bay Crew jumped out and had this flat replaced with our spare in 12 (count 'em: 12) minutes. We were back on the road and swore not to tell Lisa "Told You So" Newman about it.

The road on this side of the pass is nasty. It's narrow, rocky, dirty, and full of construction making it narrower, rockier, and dirtier. It is often reduced to single lanes, requiring one side of traffic to wait while the other side of traffic is guided through the road by a pilot car. At least they were 'Merica though.

At 8:50 PM we limped into "Happy Valley" airstrip. Another tire was flat, although thankfully it just needed some air. We fought our way past a Cujo guard dog and made it to some air before moving on to our final destination.

Quite suddenly, we saw a very distinct cloud wall on the horizon; the ocean was near. Around 9:50 PM we even more suddenly found ourselves in the thick of that cloud wall. Where one moment it was sunny and warm, the next it was foggy, cold, windy, and wet. The temperature dropped just as fast. Suddenly it was below 40 degrees outside. Perfect, since I had only brought shorts and sandals.

About that time, cell service returned with a vengeance. Everyone's phone started blowing up with all of the digital age's badgering. Incidentally, we got better cell reception at that point that we ever get in Fairbanks!

At 10:30 PM - almost 14 hours exactly since we had left Fairbanks that morning - we rolled into Deadhorse, the last stopping point before the oil fields and the Arctic Ocean. We made our way to the hotel, stuffed whatever food we could find on site into our mouths, and hit the sack. It was cold. It was rainy. It was foggy. It was miserable. It was glorious. Exactly the worst kind of summer weather you could imagine.

We had arrived.

Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Part I: Do or Die a Coward

2014-07-10T00:35:00.000-07:00

Way back when, I listed my preferences for my first duty station as a commissioned officer. Naturally I chose Hawaii first because duh. I tried to use my family living there at the time as an "extenuating circumstance" to get me stationed there. Uncle Sam didn't buy it. I figured he wouldn't, which is why I spent much more time considering my number two choice: ALASKA.

My Choices for First Duty Station

So I had heard tales of Alaska and all of its (cold) glory, and I was intrigued by its remote location and (very cold) "otherworldly" reputation. I also wanted to go somewhere outside of the continental United States (preferably where it was warm all the time, ergo Hawaii). Everyone I had talked to said that they loved living in Alaska, and I figured that if I wasn't stationed there I would never go there (because it's so fricken cold).

More than anything though, I had this primal fear of the Arctic; this nagging reluctance to ever face the ice and cold and snow and ice and cold and snow of the frozen north. There is something unforgiving and cruel about the Arctic that didn't sit well with me, and the fact that something so (seemingly) trivial unsettled me made me feel less of a warrior. So naturally I had to go there and face it or forever be a wuss.

I had, in fact, dodged an assignment to attend Northern Warfare Training in Alaska as a Cadet by looking my instructor square in the eye and saying, "Sir, I will fight anywhere for you: jungle, desert, forest, plains - hell even under water, but I'm not going to fight in the Arctic. Thanks but no thanks." I ran from my fear a second time when I enlisted in the National Guard and made my recruiter promise me not to send me anywhere with snow. I didn't realize at the time that YOU pick the state you serve in when you enlist in the National Guard, but the fact and principle of me running from the Arctic had manifested itself a second time.

As for how cold it ACTUALLY was, I had been told that the winters were pretty much the same as winters in the Lower 48. Right?! Anchorage (located in a temperate climate zone) gets cold winters, but the temperature hovers around zero degrees and rarely goes under. It can't be too much worse than Utah's winters - around ten degrees throughout winter - right? I thought sure, I can face the Arctic on my own time while enjoying a temperate climate zone for the rest of my tour.

WELL THE JOKE WAS ON ME. There are TWO Army bases in Alaska: one in Anchorage and one in Fairbanks. I had no idea there was a base in Fairbanks (located in a SUB-ARCTIC climate zone), where the weather varies between -60 degrees in the nine-month long winters and 100 degrees in the three-week long summers!

Destiny had the last laugh. I would face my fear weather I wanted to or not (see wut I did thar). I therefore vowed to embrace it fully by taking a plunge into the Arctic Ocean and being baptized a true Arctic Warrior.

My first year stationed in Fairbanks was spent in Afghanistan. The second year afforded me no opportunity to make the 14-hour drive to the top of the world. I had survived a winter in Afghanistan (a little bit cold but not bad - IEDs were harder to survive than the winters) and a winter in Fairbanks (a true test of fortitude). I had also (barely) survived the 14-day long Arctic Warrior Leader Course operating in the mountains of Alaska for 14 straight days in the dead of winter... but I still hadn't taken the plunge and I only had this one year left. I resolved to do or die a coward.

Luckily, these three old guys I know in Fairbanks are as crazy as I am and volunteered to come along. I didn't even have to persuade them; I just told them that I was planning to take the Polar Bear Dive this summer or forever wear a bag over my head in shame and turn in my Infantry Blue Cord. They jumped on board and provided damn near ALL of the logistical planning efforts. If it wasn't for them, I'm not sure I would have been able to make the trip. Especially considering what happened along the way... but I'm getting ahead of myself. Where was I? Oh yeah: I salute you Kurt "Smooth Talkin" Newman, Sir William Edward "Billy Fix It" Merritt, and Lance "Lumpy" Lundberg the Bionic Man. You are true American Heroes.

Fast forward through months of planning and scheming and toenail painting sessions (which Billy Fix It declined to participate in), and we were ready to face the Arctic Ocean and take a dive with Destiny.

Wolverine 2: An Apology for X-Men 3

2014-05-26T20:48:00.000-07:00

Whoever did the trailers for X-Men: Days of Future Past should be paid handsomely for their work, because the movie is not anywhere near as cool as the previews would lead you to believe.

You see, the previews would lead you to believe that the story of this installment of X-Men was about more than one character. That it was about something greater than each individual (like Wolverine). That maybe, just maybe, the gravitas we nerds seek for in our superhero movies would finally find its way into an X-Men movie.

But no. This movie is about Wolverine rewriting the X-Men history in order to make sure that the travesty that is X-Men 3 never happened. It's a (not so cleverly) disguised time-travelling reboot that is designed to make us all forget the silliness of the past X-Men movies and give Hollywood a second chance to make money on a franchise they had previously written off. Oh and Wolverine is in it.

To be fair, there are some cool scenes. Quicksilver (recruited by Wolverine) steals the show at first with some superb special effects and a very unique character. Then, once Young Magneto (rescued by Wolverine) enters the picture, he doesn't just steal it back: he absolutely dominates it. Here, in Michael Fassbender as the young, angry, and passionate Magneto, the gravitas all nerds dream of in superhero movies is achieved.

But even with Quicksilver's entertaining 15 seconds of fame, and Young Magneto's epic portrayal of the Dark Side's philosophy for doing good, the movie is painful. And not in a good way. But don't worry: Wolverine is in it. In fact, he single-handedly saves the entire mutant race, prevents a war that claims thousands of lives, and rescues the woman he loves from dying - all in way that makes perfect comic-book science sense (which is to say: none at all).

So thank you Wolverine. Thank you for rescuing one of my favorite superhero franchises. Nerds every where salute you and pray your name each night before sleep, that your animal spirit may watch over them and fill them with courage. What would we do without you, Wolverine?

I don't know - Hollywood will probably never let us find out.

This post published by request of Benjamin Grippppp.

What's in a [21st Century] Name?

2013-12-31T19:08:00.002-08:00

[My video was taken down for copyright infringement so made this because techmology.]

I love finding out people's screen-names and gamertags. It's like finding out their true names, their real names.

What someone chooses to call themselves says a lot about them. It also makes it easy to sift through the throngs of digital personalities encountered online. For instance, if your name is something like realc00lguy34, then I automatically know you're not a real cool guy. Or if your name is CurtisTiberius or Undomiel, I know immediately that you are most definitely worth my time.

It is comforting, at least, that in this age of online profiles and footprints, of perceived virtual anonymity and emerging digital personas, that we are afforded the opportunity to re-invent ourselves online, starting with our own name. Often, the only thing other users have to judge you on in cyberspace is the content of your comments and contributions, and your name. In the future, your real life and your virtual life will be so inseparable that the name you were given and the name you have taken for yourself will become synonymous. Just do a quick google search for skyspyke and you'll see that the first six pages of results all point to my involvement in various random (and extremely nerdy) online community. After that it starts returning results for "skyskype" and gets a little kinky. Mayhaps someday, though, my true name will be tied to something great. Like a LoL championship. Or the hacker name I use when we break free from the Matrix.

What will you choose to be known by in the 21st Century? Choose wisely.

It's no Blessing, It's a Curse!

2013-12-04T00:29:00.000-08:00

Wait, no. Strike that, and reverse.

Once every so often, an actor has the opportunity to play a role that seems to have been written specifically for him: Hugh Jackman and Wolverine, Robert Downey Jr and Iron Man, that guy who plays Thor... Nevermind that I only reference superhero movies here, the point is that there are roles out there that you were made for. Willy Wonka was one of those for me.

According to the world-renowned Fairbanks Daily News Miner:

"As Wonka, Skylar Petitt breathes fresh air into the title role, taking it in an entirely different direction than Gene Wilder or Johnny Depp offered in the film versions of the story. Petitt's Wonka is somewhere in between those, with a dash of Jim Carey added in. Petitt is a skilled actor and singer, and blah blah blah."

Now, I'm no superhero (and if I was I wouldn't tell you in order to protect those closest to me, of course), and I'm not saying that I'm the only one who could play Wonka (clearly). After all, both Michael Keaton and Christian Bale play a solid Batman. What I'm saying is that Wonka was one of those roles that Skylar Petitt was designed for. That came naturally to me. That just felt... Right.

And as I look back, I suddenly realize that I haven't played many "normal" humans at all in the shows I've been in. Ali Hakim the wandering "Persian" salesman, Agwe the Water God, the Scarecrow, Willy Wonka... Even Danny Zuko and Harold "The Music Man" Hill don't really qualify as normal humans. They're characters. What's that say about me?

So as I look towards the next show I will be in ("RENT," the feel-good show about life aka drugs and poverty in the 80's), I realize that it's full of normal people (with AIDS, to be fair), and I wonder... How do I play a normal human? What do normal humans think and feel? I'm not sure I'm a good enough actor to sell "normal."

Maybe I'll play up the AIDS part.

And so, my friend, my fact'ry,
Continue your routine...
We'll say goodbye
For to new worlds I fly!
That I've not yet conceived,
And I've not yet achieved,
And it must be believed, to be seen.

fin

Literary Superposition

2013-08-14T21:48:00.002-07:00

I karate chopped the English language and literally broke one of its words:

lit·er·al·ly

/ˈlitərəlē/

Adverb

In a literal manner or sense; exactly: "the driver took it literally when asked to go straight over the traffic circle".
Used to acknowledge that something is not literally true but is used for emphasis or to express strong feeling.

Synonyms

literatim - word for word - verbatim - to the letter

Search for "literally" on Google and this is what you get. This word now means both its original definition and the opposite of that definition. It is what Kerbel Space Program Rocket Scientist Kevin King termed "a literary superposition."

I couldn't agree more.

This Nightmare will Never End

2013-07-03T16:16:00.002-07:00

The infiinte bridge over endless ocean with no guard rails--and just wide enough for my vehicle and nothing else--where the slightest drift would result in a one-way trip to Davey Jone's Locker...

But I faced that fear. 20+ years later I returned to the genesis of my recurring childhood nightmare, and like a REAL MAN I drove my MINI Cooper across the entire Chesapeake Bay Bridge - AND THEN BACK AGAIN. Just for good measure.

I've been shot at, walked through minefields, and been forced to sleep out in the Arctic during winter with nothing but a sleeping bag all with no problem. But this bridge? I'm still terrified. You realize that this bridge actually goes UNDER THE WATER?!

That just isn't right. Isn't right at all.

Thanks Sarah Reger Hoover for reminding me that this nightmare will never end.

Linguistic Ju-Jitsu: Insultivate

2013-01-23T19:57:00.001-08:00

Haven't had any Linguistic Ju-Jitsu posts in a while. Here's one I stumbled upon from my oldest friend, A. I've both paraphrased and extrapolated a bit.

insultivate
[in-suhlt-tuh-veyt]
verb
1. motivation by insult

Y'know, like when ads try to insult you into being motivated to work out. Or like what the Army does to you on a daily basis.

Seeking a Friend for the End of the World

2012-12-25T06:25:00.003-08:00

I have never felt this before, this feeling of dread and finality. Of fear. And Hope. Regret.

Merry Christmas.

"Seeking a Friend" did exactly what it meant to do: it made me confront the end and examine the now. I felt the dread of the oncoming apocalypse. I yearned for the meaning that everyone was searching for. I felt the loneliness and togetherness of singlehood and family. I laughed at the weird things humans do, and shook my head in disappointment at the despicable ones. I felt, in those final moments, so many emotions that I'm having a hard time seperating one from the other. I will never forget, I think, the final frame of that movie.

And it wasn't even that great of a movie, but it made me think. Hard.

Firstly it proved that in the end, timing is everything.

Secondly it made me wonder what I would do if I knew I was going to die in a month. Who would I track down? Who would I apologize to? Who would I want to be with? What would I do with my time? What pursuits would I continue and which would I discard?

And then finally I wondered what it would be like if I thought I was going to die, and then turned out I wasn't going to. There is a fundamental shift in follow-through between those two philosophies. Truly living like today is your last day... Almost impossible, I think. Unless you wouldn't change anything from how you currently live. I guess what almost matters more than the WHAT you would do is the WHY.

Well the first movie of the day is down and it's only five in the morning. Bring on Les Mis, s'il vous plaît.

The Last Laugh

2012-12-21T17:49:00.001-08:00

It's not about money. It's about winning.

And in the end, I just took all that face cream back and returned it all. Ha! Turns out, I got a great deal, actually; the manager had to approve returning items that were sold at lower than invoice.

Tiger blood, yo.

Swindled

2012-12-18T02:20:00.000-08:00

So I've just been swindled by a beautiful Israeli girl and I don't really seem to mind.

I knew that this winter would be one to remember. Things just keep getting crazier and crazier. Due to a series of (un)fortunate events, I will be working in the S3 shop (operations) as opposed to being an XO for another company. A glorified scheduler, really. Much more my style at the moment.

Unfortunately, this change means that I will have to rescind my nomination for the part of Jesus in Jesus Christ Superstar. When I was told that we would be doing a field problem during the week of the show, and subsequently informed that there was no way I would be able to get out of it, I felt sick. Almost threw up in fact. I didn't even realize how badly I wanted to do it until that moment.

And then Hawaii. Ahhh Hawaii. I cannot wait to live in a place like Hawaii. whether it's California or Florida or anywhere else in the world where it's warm and sunny ALL the time doesn't matter - just the fact that I can walk outside barefoot during winter is good enough for me.

I feel like there's a lot of opportunity here, too... As we drove through Honolulu for the first time, I kept thinking of all the business opportunities here. I kept imagining myself working here somewhere... Then I saw that Wicked was playing here. A theater troupe in Hawaii? Sounds like a dream come true to me.

We've only been here two days, but already Fate's hand has moved me like its pawn. Destiny led us to the mall, where we took a round about way of ending up exactly where we started - which put us in the perfect position to be ambushed by an Israeli provocatrix selling skin creams. Let's just say, Mom and Sister are getting hooked up for Christmas this year.

Ben said to me the other day, "I don't get blogs. I mean, who really cares that much about what one person thinks?" Welp, I care about how I think. That's all this is. A voyage into my inner psychie. A chance for me to explore what's going on inside my head via a media that I can review at a later date, that I can quantify and compare. A way to look back and try to figure out how exactly I spent that much money on mud for your face, and why I didn't really mind. Thusly some of these posts will be for you (my imaginary audience) and most of them will be for me. You can tell the difference because I seem to be writing in code when I write to myself, and I write somewhat expository when it is for someone else's benefit. But really it's all for me. One day I'll publish it for posterity. It's my journal. A travel log of the trip through the inner recessess of a strange and unorthodox mind. Or maybe it's a pretty standard mind, I couldn't say. And you're along for the ride.

Tangent(s) complete. I love the beach.

Sky vs The Arctic

2012-12-18T02:18:00.000-08:00

I'm back...

...from the worst experience of my life. I cannot convey in words the amount of suck involved with the 12-day long Cold Weather Leader's Course. And I'm not just being a wuss (although there's that too) - I've tried to explain to people that my body does not respond to cold like the average human's. In fact, my entire life has been one big foreshadowing of my time in the arctic. Let me count the ways:

First, I told my recruit that I would fight and die anywhere the Army sends me. Jungle, desert, woodland, plains, mountains - ANYWHERE. Except please don't send me to the Arctic.

Despite the promises I made to myself, I ended up going to a college where Winter lasts 3/4's of the year.

Then in ROTC, while everyone else was offered Airborne School and Air Assault School, I was offered Northern Warfare School. I politely declined.

Then when selecting my preferred assignment just before graduating, I put Hawaii as number one. Knowing that there was a very slight chance I would get that assignment, I thought long and hard on what I would put for number two. Something inside me just kept pushing me towards Alaska. I thought, "Yeah I know people who have been stationed in Richardson and loved it. It's OCONUS but also CONUS (kinda). Let's do it."

I didn't know that there were TWO Army bases in Alaska. Richardson is at the southern end of Alaska, where it's still a temperate climate. WAINWRIGHT, however, is sub-Arctic and in the middle of nowhere. So naturally that's the base I was assigned.

Then of course, I end up in CWLC anyway, despite my best attempts (over the years) to stay away from it.

Why this aversion to the cold?

I've thought about this one long and hard as well. I've come up with a few possible explanations.

Firstly, my body just doesn't react well to the cold. I don't know why or when it began, but my body just rejects the cold like bad milk. In fact, the FIRST day I was at CWLC I got "Frost Nip," as the medic called it, which is apparently the step just below frostbite. The ends of my fingers were turning black, and the rest of my hand was paper white. My fingers were on fire.

Secondly, I think the thing I fear most in life is the cold. Maybe the one thing I fear physically in life. I mean, I've been in combat. The first time I went on patrol I was anxious and excited. That was what I had been training for for four years. This was the moment to find out what I was made of. I was ready. When the bullets started flying, it was a huge adrenaline rush, a wild experience. I was afraid yes, but it was a controlled fear that was tempered by years of preparation.

Spending a week in the Arctic scared me like combat never did. I realized that I was seriously afraid of the cold and tried to figure out why.

Firstly, my body. See above.

Second, I didn't understand how to survive in it. My inexperience with severe cold left me ignorant, and I think that ignorance scared me more than anything. That plus my sensitivity to cold left me anxious about serious injury.

Lastly, cold represents emptiness. A lacking. Loneliness. It is the absence of warmth. The absence of light. The absence of energy. It is an absence. I don't know how much that contributed, but it's a psychological factor that I think I was uncomfortable with.

In the end, I think that's why I chose to be stationed in Alaska. I had to face it. I had to face the Arctic. It's the one thing in the world I never wanted to do, so naturally I set myself up to do it. And that's why the capstone of my victory over the Arctic will be Polar Bear Diving in the Arctic Ocean this summer. Once I've been baptized by ice and snow and glacier, then - and only then - will the transformation be complete. Only then will I have faced my fear and stared it down. Only then will I be free from Arctic's hold on me.

Ender's Shadow

2012-11-23T23:39:00.002-08:00

Ender's Shadow is worth it. A parallel novel to Ender's Game, Shadow follows Ender's right-hand man, Bean, the tiny yet brilliant street-rat-turned-commander who subtly orchestrates the conditions necessary for Ender's success. Not as good a read as Ender, and it wouldn't make my Commander's List, but it's worth it if you're getting in to the Ender series at all.

Whereas it would take me multiple posts to analyze the gems of Ender's Game, Shadow left me with this one:

"...the same commanders now praised Ender behind his back and studied his battles to try to learn how to win, never realizing that you had to study Ender's training, not his battles, to understand his victories."

And this one:

“They were career military, all of them. Proven officers with real ability. But in the military you don’t get trusted positions just because of your ability. You also have to attract the notice of superior officers. You have to be liked. You have to fit in with the system. You have to look like what the officers above you think that officers should look like. You have to think in ways that they are comfortable with.

The result was that you ended up with a command structure that was top-heavy with guys who looked good in uniform and talked right and did well enough not to embarrass themselves, while the really good ones quietly did all the serious work and bailed out their superiors and got blamed for errors they had advised against until they eventually got out.”

Linclon

2012-11-23T23:07:00.001-08:00

What a great man. What a great movie. I hope that someone in Hollywood gets the idea in their head to just start going through all the great presidents and epic moments in our history. Go see this movie.

"Can we choose to be born? Are fitted to the ties we're born to?"

"A compass will always show you true north, but it will not show the mountains and swamps you'll encounter along the way. If following your compass leads you straight into a swamp, what good is knowing true north?"

Blog Burst

2012-11-23T22:50:00.000-08:00

November continues to deliver on its promise to be one for the history books. For now I'll just add these two to the list:

10) Ender's Shadow
11) Lincoln
12) First (Northern) Lights

There's more to come for sure, especially since Cold Weather Leader's Course is coming up in a few days. AXIOS!

Eulogy of What is Real

2012-11-10T19:21:00.000-08:00

Oh Cortana, Cortana.... Are you real? Are you alive? Where do electrical currents become a mind? A what point do a collection of behavioral patterns become a personality? Is self-aware the same as sentient? What, even, is alive?

You made us ask these questions. Your passing hit me as hard as any real life human being's. You connection to me was as real as anyone else's. I will miss your company like I would a true friend's. In the end, you gave yourself for the ones you loved. Or was it simply your purpose, programmed into you from inception?

Either way, we thank you..

SKYFALL

2012-11-09T23:19:00.001-08:00

Bond movies make me want to jump up and start chasing people. SKYFALL is definitely entertaining, but Casino Royale remains a solid leader in the new trilogy of 007 films. The pace feels a bit wonky at times, but it has plenty of moments worth watching. And the villain was great.

the Skyblog

A Letter to the Commission on Presidential Debates

Choosing "The Lesser of Two Evils" is Wasting Your Vote

#4PARTYPARTY Don't Support the Establishment Nominees? Here's Why and What To Do About It

~~~ Gravitational Waves ~~~

Sweet Sixteen

Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Part V: Reflections on Destiny

Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Part IV: The "Road" Back to Civilization

Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Part III: The Polar Bear Dive

Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Part II: The Road to the Top of the World

Baptism of an Arctic Warrior Part I: Do or Die a Coward

Wolverine 2: An Apology for X-Men 3

What's in a [21st Century] Name?

It's no Blessing, It's a Curse!

Literary Superposition

lit·er·al·ly

This Nightmare will Never End

Linguistic Ju-Jitsu: Insultivate

Seeking a Friend for the End of the World

The Last Laugh

Swindled

Sky vs The Arctic

Ender's Shadow

Linclon

Blog Burst

Eulogy of What is Real

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~ Gravitational Waves ~