Sunday, December 23, 2007
Sorry that I haven't posted much as of late, guys. Work has been keeping me really busy, and sometimes I'm just a bit uninspired. And when I do come up with something to write about, by the time I pull together enough time to actually write about it, it's no longer blogworthy or some other crap comes up that pulls me away from the laptop.
I actually plan on writing a bunch of stuff over the next couple days though. Be patient, and thanks for reading!
Sunday, December 9, 2007
It’s kinda been awhile since I truly snapped, went off the angry deep end, and did a blog full of venom. Today I snapped.
The Sunday morning news programs always get some talking head on camera claiming that Islam is a religion of peace. The next person who tells me that Islam is a religion of peace is gonna get a teddy bear named Mohamed shoved so far up his ass he’ll be spitting out stuffing. Each day it gets harder & harder to be accepting as I listen to the rhetoric about how peaceful Islam is, when their very tenets call for Jihad and holy war against non-believers of Islam.
When you get the prominent leader of a Muslim country claims he has no ill will towards America, yet a recent military parade through the streets of his capital featured missiles painted with “DEATH TO AMERICA” on them, I find it hard to be accepting. (Hey, Mahmoud, did you really think we wouldn’t have someone who could read Farsi watch the films?) Same-said leader also has stated in speeches that he intends to run all Jews into the sea and that Israel will burn in the fires of Islamic fury. Yeah, sounds pretty peaceful.
NOTE: Not for one second do I believe this bogus crap in the new National Intelligence Estimate that says Iran stopped trying to make a nuke bomb years ago. Uncle Mahmoud wants a bomb so bad he can taste it. Plus, the Israeli Mossad found nuclear material from North Korea in Syria, and Syria doesn’t fart unless Iran says so.
Uncle Mahmoud also says thee are no homosexuals in Iran…..perhaps maybe because you KILL THEM? And Islam as a whole has an abysmal history of treating women like housepets or worse. A Saudi woman who was abducted and gang-raped was sentenced to 200 lashes of the whip and six months in jail for speaking out about the case.
And then there’s the Great Teddy Bear Scandal of 2007. Gillian Gibbons, a 54-year old British woman who was in Sudan teaching English to kids, is the latest victim of Islam. Gibbons’ students decided as a class to name their class teddy bear Mohamed, which happens to be the most popular boys name in the world (due to the rise of Islam) and of course the most popular name among students in her class. It’s also the name of Islam’s prophet. Not the God, mind you, just the prophet. Well, someone heard about & got a bug up their ass, and Gibbons was arrested for insulting Islam, inciting hatred, and showing contempt for religious beliefs.
While held in jail, thousands of uneducated Third World asshat zealots with nothing more productive to do protested outside the jail, calling for her immediate execution. Facing six months in prison, 40 lashes, and a fine, Gibbons was eventually sentenced to 15 days in jail and deportation back to England.
Hey, Sudan: you have a region of your country called DARFUR where a couple MILLION people have been left homeless and a couple hundred thousand slaughtered. You think maybe you could address THAT little problem first instead of protesting the name of a stuffed toy and calling for the death of a foreign woman who was trying to educate your children? If you’re going to act all butt-hurt over something, GENOCIDE within your own orders might be a better place to start.
Every day around the world, Islamic terrorists are killing people who either don’t believe in Islam, or just so happen to believe a different VERSION of Islam than they do. Half the people Muslims kill are other Muslims. Car bombs and rocket/mortar attacks often claim children as the victims. I borrowed the following statistics from www.thereligionofpeace.com, a watchdog organization:
12/9/2007 (Swat, Pakistan) - Children are among eight killed when a suicide car bomber rams a police checkpoint.
12/8/2007 (Farah, Afghanistan) - Eight local police are killed in two separate ambushes by religious militants.
12/8/2007 (Helmand, Afghanistan) - The Taliban hang a 12-year-old boy from a tree.
12/8/2007 (Wasit, Iraq) - Radical Sunnis are suspected in a rocket attack on a Shia house in which a family of four is killed.
12/8/2007 (Mahmudiya, Iraq) - Jihadis kill one child in a mortar attack.
12/8/2007 (Baiji, Iraq) - A female suicide bomber kills seven Iraqis.
The website’s Weekly Jihad Report for this past week listed 38 Jihad attacks with 205 killed and 218 critically injured. As their header states on the website: The religion of peace, and a big stack of dead bodies.
I just wanted to give everyone a last-minute update as to the current bids on the rhino turds on eBay. It's 1:00 PM on Sunday and the auctions end in about an hour and a half.
As it stands:
INDIAN RHINO $660.00
The projected winner in the Great Turd Battle will be the white rhino. Hooray for white rhinos and white rhino turd lovers worldwide. This is some great shit, I tell ya'. I may have to gold-dip my own scat & sell it.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
I have officially seen it all.
Wondering what to get this Christmas for that special someone who has everything? Try some endangered crap.
The International Rhino Foundation is auctioning on eBay four pieces of dung from the endangered species and will use the proceeds to fund conservation efforts. The pieces come from four of the five types of rhino: white, black, Indian (Greater One-Horned Rhino) and Sumatran; the Javan rhino is so rare that a sample could not be collected. Each turd is available separately.
Each piece is dried, mounted in a clear trophy case and marked with the type of rhino that produced it. The auction ends Sunday and as of Saturday afternoon bidding had been between 11 and 24 bids, depending on the turd in question. The current top bid as of 2:00 PM is for white rhino poop standing at $743.00. Sumatran dookie is next at $670.00, Indian rhino crap is right behind at $650.00, and the Black rhino spoor nugget was standing at $620.00. Shipping for each turd is $16.00.
Hurry, kids! Bidding ends tomorrow! There are only four turds for sale, and I hasten to mention there are only 17,500 rhinos left in the wild and only 1200 living in captivity.
At last, the Internet is being used for a constructive purpose.
Keira Knightley copied Katie Holmes’ bob haircut!
Is Britney pregnant again?
Is Britney adopting Chinese twins?
Pregnant Nicole Ritchie looks skinnier than ever!!!
Keifer Sutherland works in prison laundry room!
Did Lindsay Lohan screw a fellow patient in a stairwell at rehab?
The REAL reason Hulk Hogan & wife Linda split up!!!
We vote K-Fed for Father of the Year!!!!
Katherine Heigl says blockbuster movie “Knocked Up” was sexist but still cashes paycheck!!!!
Paris Eats a Rice Cake!!!
Teri Hatcher Gets Sued!!! Madonna Sues Co-Op!!!
Britney, Nicole, TomKat, and Brangelina all plan to star their babies in High School Musical 12, planned for summer 2015 release!!!!
Are the Spice Girls really friends?
Dirty old man Lance Armstrong screwing underfed waif Olsen twin!!!
Stupid Baby Names of the Stars!!!! Alabama Windstorm Dogfood Sir Crapsalot!!!
Michael Jackson to donate nose to Smithsonian!!!!
Jennifer Anniston talks to Brad’s mom!!!! It’s war, says Angelina!!!!!
Julia Roberts Furious!!! Finds out she’s really over-rated!!!!
Who’s had plastic surgery? Who needs plastic surgery? Whose boobs are real? What stars look like without makeup!!!! What stars eat!!! What stars eat so little they can no longer poo? Who kissed who? Who shagged who? Who was spotted EATING? Who hates who? Who secretly wants to be a garbage man? Who was spotted wearing the same outfits and who wore it better? Who’s gay? Who might be gay? Who’s NOT gay that we said was gay last week? What stars actually interact with their kids? What stars kiss in a movie being filmed now for a 2009 release that we’ll speculate are a couple just to ruin their marriages?
Who the hell really cares? Whose life is THAT empty that this shit actually matters? I’m so sick of the gossip rags these days that instead I end up reading the labels of chewing gum as I stand in line at the grocery store… I’m not saying that I don’t occasionally read one now & again, and I have a friend who reads them pretty regularly (though she knows they’re full of crap) but things are getting so over the top with minute by minute reports of Britney on TMZ and other such low-brow sources that it’s bordering on the ridiculous. It's gone from gossip to soap opera to just plain dumpster diving crapola.
I don’t care how many Third World babies Brad & Angelina bought this week to add to their menagerie. Their house is turning into the United Nations petting zoo. I don’t care anymore if Britney gets her kids back, or even gets her hair back for that matter. I knew her career was over years ago when she married K-Fed. I have never cared what stars wear since I consider most “high fashion” to be overpriced (and hideous) rags. I don’t care who sleeps with whom. I don’t care what pampered rehab they pretend to go to or what they do in jail for the 87 minutes they stay there, since that’s generally all staged PR crap to begin with. I stopped trying to figure out why these assholes burden their kids with imbecile names unfit for a house pet. The name Pilot Inspektor is unfit even for a Chia Pet. One week a star is too fat, the next too skinny. And I could give a shit less what star is gay. Sure, I really do love a good train wreck and occasionally blog about really HUGE celebrity screwups, but they aren’t the basis of my existence.
Any celebrity who enjoys a modicum of privacy is “reclusive and difficult”. Any celebrity who tells the paparazzi to back off “flew into a rage”. Any celebrity who eats more than a rice cake a day is fat, and then that causes them to go anorexic and likewise be ridiculed. And any time a star over the age of 60 goes to a doctor for anything, it’s reported that they’re circling the drain, on their deathbed making their last wishes, and here’s the story of their “tragic last days”, whether they died or not. Nothing like reading about your tragic last days and then recovering, I guess.
Maybe more people will read my blog if I become a prissy diva and dish spurious rumors about famous people? It worked for Mario Armando Lavandeira Jr. (oops, I mean Perez Hilton) Or I could just cry like a wounded seal on YouTube like Chris Crocker…
Nahhhhh… I’ll just print up some t-shirts and hats to look legit, grab my camcorder, and go around asking drunk neophytes on spring break to lift their shirts so I can sell the footage under the name “Stupid Chicks Unleashed”.Care to be one of my financial backers? I need startup capital.
There are some things in life that a boy just never grows out of, even 20+ years after supposedly reaching adulthood. I still sometimes watch cartoons (when I can find one that’s not just some crap 30-minute commercial for a toy tie-in), and I still browse through Toys R Us in search of hockey figures and military miniatures. But the one thing from my childhood that I’ll probably never outgrow is my fascination for military aircraft.
There’s just something about watching a military jet flying over that turns me into a 10-year old again, no matter how many times I see one go over. My workplace is on one of the approach/take-off paths for Charleston Air Force Base, and about 20 times or so during a normal shift I’ll find myself watching the C-17’s come & go, a silly grin on my face. I’ve probably seen a couple thousand take-offs & landings at the base since I moved here, and I still never get sick of it. Tuesday afternoon I was watching one bank sharply, wings somewhere around a 45º angle like a little fighter instead of a cargo plane as it circled the base, and a couple minutes later it scooted swiftly by at treetop level headed back out again.
Of course, my muted gray and olive drab revelry isn’t limited to C-17’s. Thursday I rushed out my front door to watch an Army Blackhawk helicopter scooting along. Tuesday I interrupted a phone call to watch a pair of F-16 Falcons approaching in perfect formation barely 30 feet apart. Last Friday while sitting in traffic on Dorchester Road, a pair of AV-8B Harriers floated in over the roof of the car, with me sticking my head out the window to catch the full rumble of their Rolls Royce Pegasus engines. A couple weeks ago it was a pair of A-10 Thunderbolts (admittedly my favorite plane of all time) wheeling a tight circle over me as I was at a red light across from the Coliseum. Three weeks or so ago it was a massive Russian cargo jet, an Antonov-124 Condor, that caught my eye from a couple miles out and just kept getting bigger and bigger as it came to land, probably either to move some aircraft parts for Boeing or to transport some new MRAP vehicles to Iraq. (Bet you didn’t know we had a Russian cargo company transporting our military’s newest toy to the war zone, huh? But that’s a blog for another day.)
All it takes is for me to hear the rumble and high-pitched whine of a jet turbine for my heart to jump and my head to start swiveling around like my head’s on a gimbal-mount to find the source, and I’ll smile like a slack-jawed goofball, or at the very least like a six-year-old at the circus, and watch until it flies out of sight. Civilian planes don’t really do it for me unless they’re pretty big like a 747 or exotic like the Burt Rutan-designed Beech Starship I sometimes see around Charleston. Nope, for me it’s gotta be military. Maybe it’s my lifelong association with the military and my own Army service, or it’s just the idea of the sleek rugged and deadly purposefulness of the airframes. Maybe it’s just me trying to live vicariously, since I at one time had wanted to be a military aviator until my vision precluded me from being Joe Top Gun (though had I not be so danged hard-headed I could have opted to be an aircrew member or loadmaster).
I remember those halcyon days of yore when you could pack a picnic lunch and sit out off Aviation Avenue watching planes come & go out of Charleston. However in today’s post-9/11 climate that’s no longer allowed and the General Aviation zone has grown so huge with new hangars and always so full of cars that there’s no real place to sit over at their lot to watch anymore either. Nothing like a cold dose of reality to suppress your inner child.
That’s okay, I guess. I can still regress, if only for a few brief seconds, every time I see something as I sit in traffic.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
What with the writer’s strike going on in Hollyweird, the late-night talk shows are already into reruns, Jon Stewart & Stephen Colbert are silent, and in a couple of weeks the regular television series that were in production are going to run out of shows that were “in the can” and be forced to likewise play previously seen episodes. Pretty soon, all that’ll be left are reality shows, and I’m not sure I’m quite ready to embrace more inane crap like what’s already being aired.
Ergo, theretofore, I am taking it upon myself to personally rescue the American television viewing public from terminal boredom. I am your salvation, Sheeple. Harken to me, huddled masses, and I shall entertain thee. Feast thyne eyes upon my new offerings:
America’s Next Top Gardener—Tune in each week as contestants vie in the dog eat dog world of competitive gardening. See who cracks the week they try to grow orchids in low lighting conditions.
CSI: Smoaks--- Reconstruct the crime scenes on the mean streets of Smoaks, South Carolina, population 150. A special season-ending cliffhanger will leave you wondering just who left a bag of burning doggy doo on the steps of the General Store…..
Extreme Makeover Afghanistan Edition--- Ty Pennington and crew remodel a cave for a needy goat herder, only to have it blown up by a laser guided bomb when the locals turn out to be Talibans.
Are You Smarter Than a Pornstar?---Ron Jeremy and Jenna Jameson co-host this hilarious game show where average Joes are pitted against average Hoes to see who’s dumber.
Fear Factor: Crackhead Edition---There’s no telling what demeaning stunts a crack addict will do for a little rock! Hilarity ensues.
Phone Sex With The Stars---They can sing, they can dance, they can act…but can they make you pay $3.99 a minute? Tune in to find out!
Vatican Bloopers and Practical Jokes---It’s “Mass” hysteria when MTV pimps the Popemobile!!! Watch the shenanigans when the cardinals replace Pope Benedict’s zucchetto with a propeller-beanie!!! Rubber duckies in the holy water!!!!
Dancing With The Dictators---Tension mounts week by week as contestants Hugo Chavez (Venezuela), Fidel Castro (Cuba), Kim Jong Il (North Korea), Robert Mugabe (Zimbabwe), Omar al Bashir (Sudan), and crowd favorite Muammar al-Qaddafi of Libya shake their groove thangs with professional dance partners.
COPS: Baghdad---Ride along with the fellows who patrol the mean streets of the most dangerous city in the world. Whether or not you speak Arabic, arresting a shirtless idiot with a mullet translates to any language.
Rehabs of the Rich & Famous---Tag along with Britney, Lindsay, and all the regulars as they go in and out of exclusive day-spa rehab centers, quit, and then go back again.
Mike Tyson’s 24---Each hour-long episode is a real-time minute by minute journey through Mike Tyson’s recent 24-hour sentence in the Maricopa County Detention Facility.
Earthworm Environment---From the makers of Meerkat Manor comes this touching family show about the trials and tribulations of an adorable colony of common earthworms in a Kentucky back yard. Feel the sadness when colony leader Billy Joe is picked up and put on a fish hook….and feel the excitement when top girly-worm Betty Boop escapes becoming the early worm for breakfast after a sparrow tries to eat her. After the bird’s beak snips her in half, both parts grow back into two new worms, Betty and Boop!
Or....you can continue watching A Flavor Shot of Rock Knows Best.....
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Being a military recruiter isn’t easy. Being a military recruiter during a very unpopular war is damn near impossible. In light of this, Uncle Sugar keeps offering lucrative signing bonuses to recruits now to lure them into the services.
Back when I enlisted, I was able to get the GI Bill for college money just like all enlistees, but since I was going into the Military Police and not into something else that was under-manned, I wasn’t offered the Army College Fund. Nowadays recruits still get the GI Bill and certain college money benefits, but a lot of enlistments into certain specialties are coming with up to $40,000 in combined bonuses. Needless to say, the military branches are finding it easier to make their recruiting goals when offering scratch like that. When you’re young and think you’re indestructible, someone waving 40 grand plus free college in your face is like tossing a big hook loaded with fat worms to a trout. Then these kids get all trained up and sent to the Sandbox, and unfortunately, Bad Things can happen. It’s not just young kids, either. In some cases, older recruits with a heavy burden of financial considerations enlist to use the bonus money to help out their family’s situation and take advantage of the healthcare benefits.
When I was a soldier, I used to sleep easier knowing that if something happened to me in the function of my duties that the Gummint™ would take care of me. Not so these days, it seems.
The military has started demanding that thousands of wounded service personnel give back signing bonuses because they are unable to serve out their commitments. Now men and women who have lost arms, legs, eyesight, or hearing and can no longer serve are being ordered to pay some of that money back.
One of them is Jordan Fox, a former soldier from the Pittsburgh area, in whose name
Operation Pittsburgh Pride was started. The group sends care packages to troops serving in Iraq. Fox was seriously injured when a roadside bomb blew up his vehicle, injuring his back and taking all vision in his right eye. A few months later Fox was sent home; his injuries prohibited him from fulfilling three months of his commitment. A few days ago, he received a letter from the military demanding nearly $3,000 of his $10,000 signing bonus back.
This is not a new problem. As far back as October 2004, Brian Ross of ABC News reported an similar story. Army Specalist Tyson Johnson III, who lost a kidney in a mortar attack last year in Iraq, was still recovering at Walter Reed Army Medical Center when he received notice from the Pentagon's own collection agency that he owed more than $2,700 because he could not fulfill his full 36-month tour of duty. In addition to the lost kidney, shrapnel damaged Johnson's lung and heart, and entered the back of his head Field medical reports said he was not expected to live more than 72 hours. Johnson said the Pentagon listed the bonus on his credit report as an unpaid government loan, making it impossible for him to rent an apartment or obtain credit cards. At one point, Johnson was living in his car so as not to burden his family.
In a more recent example a couple months ago, NPR radio reported on Army Specialist Ronald Hinkle, who suffered a traumatic brain injury after an IED explosion cut short his military career. He now is unable to think clearly and tires easily. He suffers from seizures and cannot be left alone. Not only was Hinkle owed $2,500 in back salary, but two months after NPR's story aired, he was notified that a $3,000 enlistment bonus would not be paid because he "failed to fulfill his contract" — by way of suffering serious injury in the line of duty. Multiple bureaucratic screwups have gypped Hinkle’s family out of thousands of dollars in medical benefits, and the family is so strapped now that they may lose their family ranch.
What an absolute crock. How can you take the best & brightest of your nation’s young people, run them on a rotating basis through a crappy meat grinder, send them home less than whole, and then ask them to give back the bait you used to lure them into it in the first place? I could see if a kid signs up, collects a bonus, and then just up and quits or goes AWOL. But to lose a limb or a bodily sense, or suffer a traumatic brain injury, and then be BILLED? That’s just insane. How about you give those kids back their eyes, legs, arms, and hearing, and then ask for the money back.
Sure, the military has since recanted their bills to Johnson and Fox after coming under fire, claiming their billing letters were sent in error, but Hinkle’s case is still in limbo. Legislation has been introduced to protect wounded soldiers from having to pay back their bonuses, but it never should have had to come to this in the first place. You have to support your soldiers from start to finish, including after they get back. I just read somewhere that there are something like 20,000 brain injuries from the war not being listed as casualties, and these numbers don’t include all the cases of PTSD out there that sometimes take months to manifest after returning from the war zone.
A country that forgets its veterans will soon be forgotten. Wake up, Sheeple!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
I guess when you’re not rich, it’s easier to thumb your nose at those who are. But even rich people would have to flip the bird to this kind of filthy lucre.
The world’s 13th richest person, Prince Alwaleed bin Talal of Saudi Arabia, is buying an Airbus A380 to use as his own flying palace. The 380 is not like a Learjet, I promise you. The Airbus A380 is the largest passenger airplane in the world. I’m not kidding.
The plane, a double-decker behemoth that can only land at certain airports because of its ginormity, can hold up to 850 passengers in its most basic economy configuration. However, bin Talal is the first person to purchase one for private use, and while Airbus will not say what the actual price tag is for the jet, they were willing to state only that it would cost more than the aircraft's list price of $320 million. Yeah…I’m worrying over adding a couple grand in options to the new car I’ll hopefully buy next year, and this guy is dropping perhaps 350 MILLION dollars…yeah, 350 with six more zeroes after it.
That doesn't even include the money the prince will spend to custom fit the nearly 6,000-square foot plane to include whatever he wants. The options include private bedrooms, a movie theater or even a gym with a Jacuzzi. He'll also need a flight crew of about 15 to operate this beast.
It's all just spending cash for bin Talal , who is Citigroup Inc.'s biggest individual shareholder, with personal assets around $20 billion. Yes…lots & lots of zeroes. As a member of the Saudi royal family, he benefits from the country's vast oil wealth, but much of bin Talal's huge fortune comes from his investment firm, the $25-billion Kingdom Holding Company. The company has stakes in Rupert Murdoch's News Corporation, Fairmont Raffles Hotels International, Time Warner, Apple, PepsiCo, and Walt Disney Company, to name a few major corporations. By the way, he also owns a 281-foot luxury yacht formerly owned first by Adnan Kashoggi and then Donald Trump. Perhaps you saw this little fishin’ boat in the James Bond film “Never Say Never Again”? And among his fleet of cars is a pair of Rolls Royce Phantoms.
The German company Lufthansa Technik, which specializes in maintenance, repair, and overhaul of commercial jetliners and is also the world leader in customizing VIP jets, has created a general rendering of what a VIP A380 jumbo could include: spacious bedrooms on the plane's upper deck, separated by a reception area and a bar next to central stairway. The master bedroom could include an office, private dinning room, a gym featuring a steam bath and exercise machines. The lower decks could feature a lounge-type quarters equipped with a conference area and dining room. A third level, normally used for cargo, could be transformed into another passenger space or cinema.
This type of custom design does not come cheap, obviously. Experts say it could rack the price up by another $50 million to $150 million. So let’s add another few zeroes, and this plane could very well top out at over half a billion clams. Again, chump change, and that chump change is why you and me are being bled dry at the gas pump. I’m eating microwaveable singles from Hamburger Helper on my lunch break at work because the gas for my daily commute is three bucks a gallon, and this assclown has a flying palace with three times the square footage of the average American home. And hey, America, gas is supposed to go up nearly 20 cents MORE a gallon next week just in time to screw all the holiday travelers.
Note To U.S. Gummint™: China will soon be drilling for oil off Cuba. Yes, Cuba. That little country in our back yard. So then why aren’t we drilling more off Florida and in the Gulf of Mexico? When will we open up the North Slope of ANWR to drilling? The answer is not, as Hillary Clinton suggested, to just tap into more of our Strategic Petroleum Reserve; the answer is NOT to use more of what we already have so that we’ll have less. The answer is to GO GET MORE. It’s out there and we won’t go get it because we’re worried about upsetting all the tree-huggers. China will be drilling off the Florida Keys, people. They’re going to suck dry the oil fields off of our shores before we can get to it, while we sit on our thumbs and continue to pay out the nose or foreign oil instead of GETTING OUR OWN. China’s re-opening an abandoned refinery that the Russians built in Cuba, making gas 90 miles from the US of A, and we’re just…gonna…let…them…do it.
Do you know why we’re going to Hell in a hand-cart? Because we can’t afford the gas to drive to Hell.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
A boy and his dog......
I think perhaps I misspoke the other day when I said Fall was here, because today was positively GORGEOUS.
Normally on a Wednesday, things are so insanely hectic at work that I’m totally wiped at the end of the shift and bail out as soon as the second-shift guys appear. I fight Highway Hypnosis along 17-A (after fighting Road Rage on Dorchester) and lapse into a vaguely comatose state after I get home. Not today…
It was simply too nice to not get outside today. It was 81º at 1:00 PM as I was headed home (I worked 4AM till 12:30) and it was just wonderful riding down a fairly deserted 17-A with the windows down and the sun in my face. After a quick a quick shower, on went the shorts and sneakers, and I grabbed a bottle of water for both me & the dog, and we headed out to walk the paths of the Great Swamp Sanctuary here in Walterboro.
The dog was ecstatic. He’d been so restless & bored the past few days, needing some outdoors time with Daddy. He’s really portable and loves to ride in the car, and it’s a riot to watch his little ears flapping in the wind when he stands up to stick his head out the window. Dachshunds rock!
Of course, like any male dog, he had to make sure he marked every blade of grass, tree, rock, bench, leaf, and twig along the trail. Those stubby little legs were working overtime as he scurried along the trail, making sure he explored everything …twice…and then a back leg would hike and he’d look up at me as if to say, “Hey, do you mind?”
We took a few pictures and shared a bottle of water (I love those collapsible travel bowls) before turning around and heading back. Of course, he was so wound up that I couldn’t get him to stand still long enough to get any really great shots. I honestly don’t know how Bill Wegman made a career out of photographing dogs. Of about 20 pictures, only two were usable.
According to Rob Fowler’s weather forecast on TV a minute ago, it’s due to start getting noticeably colder again tomorrow afternoon. That in part was my impetus for getting outside today. Both of us needed some extra exercise, and it very well could have been the last hurrah of Indian Summer. It would have been a shame to waste it semiconscious on the couch.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Click the picture to read the text...
This Sunday marks the passing of Veteran’s Day. Sad to say, most people will go about their lives as normal without any real thought to what the holiday means. They’ll go shopping, since everybody’s running special sales. They’ll watch football, since that’s what Americans do on Sunday. Some of them will enjoy a day off from work or school on Monday, and give no further thought as to why.
Some of us, though, are well aware of the sacrifices endured by this nation’s military veterans and their families throughout our 231 years as the United States of America.
The military as a whole does not care if you’re a Democrat or Republican. It does not care if you are a Catholic, a Baptist, a Jew, a Pagan, or even an Atheist. It does not care if you’re from a wealthy Harvard background or if you’re from a hardscrabble farm out in the boonies. The military serves all, protects all, and embraces all.
I myself come from a VERY long military tradition in my family. One line of my mom’s family goes back to the crusader knights under Richard III of England. Also on mom’s side, my great-great grandfather died in the Boer War in South Africa fighting against the Dutch Afrikaners who eventually instituted Apartheid. My great grandfather served in the 75th Highlanders of the Canadian Army. Both of my mom’s parents served in the Canadian military during World War Two. My grandmother’s brother spent a career in the Royal Canadian Air Force. Two of my mom’s brothers served in the US Army during Vietnam, neither of them American citizens at the time. My stepfather served 24 years in the US Navy’s submarine fleet, starting as an enlisted man & retiring as a Lieutenant Commander.
My father served briefly in the Army during Vietnam but was injured before deploying and was medically retired. Two of his brothers each served over 20 years in the Army and another brother is a Navy chaplain. My paternal grandfather was a nose-gunner on a B-24 Liberator bomber during World War Two.
My father-in-law is an Army veteran. Two of my cousins have done tours in Iraq. The brother of one of my closest friends is there on his third tour right now. Of my high school circle of friends, pretty much all of us entered the services. Of my current friends, many are veterans. And then there’s me, who for four years served likewise as a Military Policeman in the US Army.
So, yes, I take service to our nation quite seriously.
In college, they scheduled Columbus Day as a day off and had classes scheduled for Veteran's Day. I warned my instructors ahead of time that I'd not be there or Veteran's Day, and when one of them questioned me as to why, I just flatly stated: "It's MY holiday and I earned it."
A sad news story making the rounds this week proclaimed that veterans make up one in four homeless people in the United States, though they are only 11 percent of the general adult population. That’s insane. If you’re an employer reading this, hire a veteran. You’ll be getting a self-motivated employee who doesn’t need to be babysat and has built-in leadership skills and attention to detail. Give a little back to those who give so much. This weekend, take a second or two to reflect on all that you have because of the service of our vets. Have YOU hugged a veteran today?
A favorite bumper sticker of mine reads:” If you can read this, thank a teacher. If you can read this in English, thank a veteran.”
I salute my fellow vets. You are all my sisters & brothers, my comrades, and the true heroes of this great nation. Thank you all for your service and your sacrifice.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
If you see a Marine, past or present, this weekend, wish them a happy birthday.Trust me, they’ll understand, and they’ll be highly appreciative.
Deep down, I sorta have a soft spot for Marines. I’ve always had the utmost respect for my comrades-in-arms from my sister service, and I’ve always been surrounded by Marine vets for as long as I can remember. This weekend we celebrate Veteran’s Day, but the day before that, the United States Marine Corps will celebrate its 232nd birthday.
Formed at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia by an act of the Continental Congress, and organized as the Continental Marines on 10 November 1775 as naval infantry, the Marine Corps has served in every American armed conflict from the Revolutionary War to Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Some Famous Marines:
Actors Don Adams, Bea Arthur, Brian Dennehy, R. Lee Ermey, Glenn Ford, Mike Farrell, Scott Glenn, Gene Hackman, Bob Keeshan (Captain Kangaroo!), Harvey Keitel, Judge Mills Lane (People’s Court), Lee Marvin, Steve McQueen, Ed McMahon, George Peppard, Robert Remus (Sergeant Slaughter), George C. Scott, Burt Reynolds, and Montel Williams, Baseball Hall of Famers Rod Carew, Ted Williams, and Roberto Clemente, astronaut John Glenn, musicians Freddie Fender, both of the Everly Brothers, George Jones, CJ Ramone (The Ramones), Shaggy, and Josh Gracin, boxers Ken Norton and Leon Spinks, lawyer F.Lee Bailey, golfer Lee Trevino, radio pariah Don Imus, and news broadcasters Dan Rather and Bernard Shaw.
If you’ve never had the privelege to see the Marine Corps Silent Drill Platoon perform, then you have missed out on one of the coolect things in the known universe. What the Thunderbirds and Blue Angels do in the sky, the Silent Drill Platoon does for close-order drill and ceremony, all without verbal commands.
Some Marines who impacted my life:
While in high school my neighbor Don Ares, a retired Gunnery Sergeant, often told me funny stories of his travels with the Corps. One of the most colorful and funny Marines I ever met was Staff Sergeant Pat Curley, a recruiter in Portsmouth, New Hampshire in the late 80’s. He recruited two of my best friends in high school, Chris Cunningham and Mike Dunham.
While on leave prior to going to Germany, I got to hang out with Chris and some of the guys in his platoon and had a blast. I still talk to one of his platoon-mates from time to time; Chris Hembree is a successful attorney in Washington, DC and visits down this way a few times a year.
And of course, there’s Chris Cunningham himself. Chris has been one of my two closest friends for 24 years. After high school, I went into the Army and Chris went into the Marines. It’s probably the longest period of time that we’ve lived more than 50 miles from each other. Over the years we’ve teased each other in a good-natured inter-service rivalry that usually sees me losing a 6-pack bet on the annual Army-Navy football game.
I also want to take a moment to recognize a fallen Marine on this Marine Corps Birthday. I never really knew Gunnery Sergeant Jeffrey Bohr, but Chris served with him and always held him in high regard, and by all accounts, Gunny Bohr was a Marine’s Marine. I met him briefly before I went to Germany, when he was a Corporal assigned to King’s Bay Submarine Base, but Chris would mention him now & again over the years. A native of Ossian, Iowa, Jeff was felled by a sniper on April 10, 2003. He was 39 years old .
Gunnery Sergeant Jeffrey E. Bohr, Jr. was posthumously awarded the military’s third-highest medal, the Silver Star, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity while serving with Company A, 1st Battalion, Fifth Marine Regiment.
With his company assigned to seize a presidential palace in Baghdad and concerned that logistical resupply might be slow in reaching his fellow Marines once they reached the objective, Bohr volunteered to move in with the company’s main armored convoy.
While moving through narrow streets toward the objective, the convoy came under intense small-arms and rocket-propelled grenade fire. Throughout this movement, Bohr delivered accurate, effective fires on the enemy while encouraging his Marines and supplying critical information to his company commander.
When the lead vehicles of the convoy came under enemy fire, Gunny Bohr continued to boldly engage the enemy while calmly maneuvering other Marines to safety. When word came down that there was a wounded Marine in a forward vehicle, Bohr immediately coordinated medical treatment and evacuation.
Moving to the position of the injured Marine, Bohr continued to lay down a high volume of suppressive fire, while simultaneously guiding the medical evacuation vehicle, until he was mortally wounded by enemy fire. One account stated that Jeff had the radio handset in one hand and was firing his M-16 with the other when he was hit.
Jeff’s wife Lori accepted the medal during a ceremony on May 3, 2003 at a ceremony at Camp Pendleton, California. Semper Fi and God Bless. The sacrifices of the Bohr family are not forgotten.
So today I want to take a minute and salute my comrades from my sister service. Yours is a long and proud tradition. However, the Army’s is longer, so there! Happy 232nd birthday, Devil Dogs!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Over the past few years I’ve spent a lot of time in sports arenas around the region for hockey games (North Charleston Coliseum, Florence Civic Center, Carolina Coliseum, Cricket Arena) and have listened to games being broadcast from many others, and one of the constants that you can always count on is the music.
Pretty much every stadium broadcast booth is stocked with the ESPN Jock Jams cd collection, because you’ll always hear the same songs at every event. No matter the sport, you’ll be hearing “Get Ready For This” by 2 Unlimited, “Kernkraft 400” by Zombie Nation, and “Cotton Eye Joe” by the Rednex.
Of course, pretty much every team plays the exact same song when a goal is scored, and that’s “Rock & Roll, Part Two” by Gary Glitter. Amazing that we celebrate our team scoring by chanting along to a thirty-five year old song recorded by a convicted pedophile currently in a Vietnamese prison.
And then there’s “Y.M.C.A.” by The Village People. Great track, catchy as hell, and rapidly approaching its 30th birthday. No, this song is NOT about the Young Mens Christian Association and how cool it is to go learn to swim there or play in a rec-league hoops tourney. Underneath that fun chorus and doofy dance is a song that extols the virtues of cruising for gay sex at the Y. Yeah, bet all you Macho Man types didn’t know that didja? I can hear the homophobes backpedaling all the way from here.
The Village People were disco’s boy band, pre-packaged and gift-wrapped. Only one of them could actually sing lead, kinda like N’Sync, and they did throwaway pop music written and produced by studio people. (Although in their defense, I must note that the lead singer, Victor Willis, did write the songs on their three follow up albums, and the other guys did sing the backup harmonies)They were only popular for a short time, a flash in the pan really, but their legacy lingers. It was like a gay disco version of KISS, but instead of hard rock and Kabuki makeup it was theme costumes and dance beats. You had The Cop, The Construction Worker, The Gay Butch Biker, The Indian, The Cowboy, and The Soldier/Sailor, with occasional costume variations among them.
The Village People also had a huge hit with “Macho Man”, which was as thinly disguised a come-on song as you can get. Check these lyrics: “You can best believe that, he's a macho man ready to get down with, anyone he can…” Something tells me their hit “In the Navy” did nothing to help post-Vietnam War recruiting woes: “If you like adventure, don't you wait to enter the recruiting office fast. Don't you hesitate, there is no need to wait; they're signing up new seamen fast…” Yeah, I bet they are, big boy.
Other songs included “Fire Island”, “San Francisco”, “Hot Cop”, “I’m a Cruiser”, “I Am What I Am”, “Sodom & Gomorrah”, and “Action Man”, but perhaps the cleverest of all was “Go West”, a song that only achieved minimal success at best for the band, but was a #2 UK single when it was covered by the Pet Shop Boys in 1993. My ex-wife almost choked on her self-righteousness when I played the song, an anthem of gay liberation to be found out west in the Bay Area, and she said it was almost note for note a copy of a 1978 Christian song called “Give Thanks With a Grateful Heart”. I still laugh at that.
Maybe we need a new Village People? Boy Bands have crapped out, and pop music as a whole is pretty abysmal. We could do a Village People 2007, updated and ready to go.
•The Cop, well more like The Fop---Flavor Flav. Why not? A Viking helmet’s not too far a cry from a cop helmet…
•The Indian---- A New York City cab driver. Makes more sense, since all the Native Americans I see these days own casinos and wear Armani suits.
•The Cowboy----All the cowboys are gone. Bring in Juan Valdez!
•The Sailor----Trust the Gorton’s Fisherman. He’s got your back.
•The Token Gay Icon----Chris Crocker. Is there any doubt?
•The Inventor----Al Gore invented the Internet, and invented Global Warming too.
Perhaps they can redo an old classic and call it “In the Army” to bolster flagging recruiting numbers in today’s Iraq War climate?
“In the Army, spend 15 months outside Baghdad.
In the Army, combat really ain’t that bad.
In the Army, come back from Iraq and then
(In the Army) turn around and get deployed again…”
Oh yes, I smell a hit……
Okay, I’ll finally say that Fall is here. The temperature reading on my little Windows Sidebar gadget thingie says it’s 56 degrees here in Walterboro at 1:45 PM, and there’s a brisk wind blowing the debris around outside. I say debris rather than leaves because down here, the leaves are never quite sure when to all off the trees. I have a hot cup of coffee in hand and can reflect on Autumn as I relax on a week’s vacation.
As a Yankee transplant to the Lowcountry, the Autumnal season is a bit strange to me. My coworkers are showing up at the plant wearing fleece pullovers and skully hats, and I’m still in short sleeves. The weather that we’re having today is what I’m used to seeing in early September back in Maine. The year I moved back down here, in October 2000, I’d already had my first snowfall by the second week of the month. My first frost was in mi-September. Now here we are at the end of the first week of November and I finally had to break out a hoodie. I’m certainly in no way ready to break out my snowboarding parka.
I really had to laugh when the company I work for released the Pumpkin Spice Egg Nog the first week of October. C’mon….just because the calendar says fall is here doesn’t mean it really is. I know that egg nog is a very competitive market product and it has a very small sell-window, but let’s be realistic; no one wanted a big thick glass of nog on a 95 degree day.
There’s not much I miss about living up north. In fact, I really didn’t like it all that much up there at all. But watching the leaves turn brilliant shades of red and yellow and orange was a gorgeous sight. Down here, things just go from green to sickly jaundiced yellow to brown, and then the next 5 months is spent trickling off the branches in dribs and drabs.
Of course, up north, no one wants to brave a 20-degree day to stand outside frying a turkey. Up north, the shorts & t-shirts have been packed up, not to be seen again till May. (Although a lot of us die-hard stalwarts would break out the cargo shorts with a sweatshirt and hiking boots as soon as the temps broke 40, just to thumb our noses at winter)
Fall means hockey season starts up again, and the weather here means that it’s not a hardship to stand outside after a game to chat with the players, and it also means you aren’t dragging heavy coats & what not to games. Tailgating isn’t a body-numbing experience. If you’re a football fan, it means that you don’t need to bundle up like the Michelin Man to watch a game outdoors. And I assure you, falling down on FROZEN ground, especially when being tackled, sucks with a capital OUCH.
Back in Maine, if you die after Columbus Day, you probably aren’t getting buried till after Memorial Day. The ground freezes and becomes too hard to dig a grave in, so they keep you in the cooler till it’s warm enough to dig the hole to put you in and have a graveside service come spring.
So Fall has finally come to the Lowcountry. Good, maybe my grass will stop growing now and I can keep the weeds at bay till March.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Yes, this all happenned several years ago...but it's been weighing on my mind ever since. It's a VERY long blog. Please bear with me.
There really aren’t a lot of things that I call myself “eminently qualified” to give an opinion on. Most of the time that doesn’t stop me, though. I generally am pretty content to spout off with my relatively-informed opinions at the drop of a hat without being a qualified expert on the topic. Most of the things I talk about aren’t exactly rocket surgery either. However, occasionally a topic comes up where I have special qualifications, such as a commercial driver’s license, or specific experience, such as being there in Germany first-hand to see the fall of the Berlin Wall and communism. There are a lot of things that I can engage in an intelligent discourse over without looking like a complete rube, but few things I would be so bold as to call myself an expert on. But on a select few topics, yes, I am eminently qualified. This is one of those topics.
For the sake of background, I spent four years as a military policeman in the US Army. My primary specialty as an MP was Combat Support and Law Enforcement, and my secondary specialty was that of Corrections. The wartime mission for my unit in Germany, the 285th MP Company, was that of Enemy Prisoner of War (EPW) operations. In the event of an armed conflict, we were to set up and operate a prison camp as well as process and guard EPW’s and CI’s, or Civilian Internees. In addition to frequent classroom training on the subject, I had several excellent field training exercises specifically tailored to EPW ops to give practical application to the classroom theory. In one exercise I role-played the part of a prisoner, and in a longer 21-day event, we ran a camp whose prisoners were members of the Army’s elite 10th Special Forces Group.
In Kansas, I was assigned to the US Army Correctional Brigade, and as part of my duties apart from Law Enforcement, I was responsible for prisoner custody & control in a military correctional environment populated by as many as 3,000 convicted offenders. Once the First Gulf War started to ramp up, my unit helped train National Guard MP units in EPW operations prior to their deploying to the front lines.
Additionally, while in college I served an internship at the Penobscot County Jail in Bangor, Maine, working in part with prisoner intake and classification for a semester. So yeah, I guess it’s safe to say I know a thing or two about jails in general and military prisons in particular. This said I felt that I had finally procrastinated long enough, and that I should make my opinions on the Abu Ghraib Prison Scandal known, in as much as I was not there first-hand to witness the events.
Personally, I think things got way out of hand, but also that things got blown way out of proportion, too. What should have been administratively handled at the unit level instead made it to the press, and the drive-by media blew it all over the place, and everybody proceeded to boo-hoo over it. There, I said it. Now start calling me a torturing war-monger.
Look, be realistic, people. Occasionally alternative interrogation methods need to be employed to get valuable intelligence from people who are doing their level best to KILL US. Yes, us. Not just American troops, but the entire country. These extremist Islamic fundamentalist terrorists and insurgents want to wipe us as a nation off the map and start over from scratch as an all-Islamic world state. How big of an idiot does someone have to be to not see that? And note that I said “extremist Islamic fundamentalists” and not “everyday Muslims”. Not everyone who follows the Koran is a terrorist.
I’ve asked time & time again, why is it seemingly okay for insurgent scumbags to behead our people on live streaming webcasts, to mutilate the burned corpses of contractors and hang the remains from bridges, and to put IED’s inside the remains of dead women and babies on the side of the road to blow up people coming to try and render aid? But when anyone wearing an American flag does something even remotely non-Hearts & Flowers it’s suddenly an international war crime? Riddle me that, why don’t you? That double standard is a load of crap. Don’t feed me any lines about the Geneva Convention, the Hague Accords, the Code of Conduct, et cetera. Nobody follows them any more. Sure, we should try to hold ourselves up to a higher standard of ethical & moral conduct, I agree. However, war is nasty. War is dirty. War is a blurred-line gray area with murky situations, where young people are forced to make instantaneous decisions on life & death. For most of us the toughest decision we make all week is “cash or charge” or what to make for dinner.
Early in the war, LTC Allen B. West, a veteran officer working to facilitate elections, fired his pistol into the ground a foot away from the head of an Iraqi policeman who refused to give up information about a plot to assassinate West in a large-scale ambush. The Iraqi then gave up all the relevant information he had, and many lives were saved. Was it extreme? Maybe, but I’d rather see some corrupt enemy operative crap his pants in fear than see American troops come home in a flag-draped box. West was quoted as saying, “"If it's the lives of my men and their safety, I'd go through hell with a gasoline can." Colonel West was reprimanded, fined around $5,000.00, and relieved of command pending his forced retirement. His career was ruined by Army staffers looking for a convenient example to set. That’s a shame, since we need more officers like him who are willing to make tough decisions and save American lives. If you’re reading this, Colonel West, I’d personally carry your gas can, sir.
The MP’s at Abu Ghraib prison screwed up. That much is glaringly obvious, and I’ll easily give it that much. They did a bunch of stupid, juvenile grab-ass pranks at the expense of prisoners who would gladly have done worse to them had the roles been reversed. It was dumb and childish to dog pile naked prisoners and dumber still to take pictures of themselves doing it. But humiliation of that nature is not what I consider torture. It really wasn’t even severe abuse. It was childish hazing but it actually served a purpose. No one was found to have bamboo splinters under their nails. No one had cinder blocks dropped on them to break their bones, and no one was being hooked up to live wires attached to their scrotums. Allegations of abuse and torture were made by the New York Times, but nothing truly substantial was able to be proven. Again, there was childish hazing that actually does in the end serve a purpose. Hazing and harassment serves to break down a prisoner’s will to resist and makes them despair enough to crack and eventually talk during interrogation.
I should know; I’ve done it myself.
Yes, you read that right. I’ve done it myself to American soldiers during a training exercise.
During a multi-unit Joint Combat Readiness Exercise called Coronet Rodeo in 1989, my unit operated a mock POW camp and our prisoners were members of the 10th Special Forces Group. Under orders from the 511th Military Intelligence Battalion, we made sure the “prisoners” got no more than 2 hours of sleep at a stretch, sometimes giving them as little as 45 minutes between wakeups and roll calls. The lights were always on to ensure they never had a darkened area to sleep in. We kept them silent, and didn’t allow them to bathe but every few days. (The stench in the main tent was special). At night they were stripped to their skivvies and t-shirts to sleep in. But in the case of their leader, a Special Forces Captain about to be promoted to Major whose name I will not reveal due to Operational Security concerns, he wasn’t wearing any skivvies when “captured” so he got the added perceived embarrassment of standing at attention for all the roll calls with his junk in the breeze in front of his subordinates. Southern Germany is cold and wet in late October so he was quite miserable in addition to be humiliated such. After about a week, we gifted him with a pair of pink panties donated by a female trooper, again for the humiliation factor, assisting in breaking the subordinates respect for their leader and in breaking down the officer for interrogation.
The interrogations themselves were an amazing learning experience to see, even though I don’t speak Russian, the primary language used during the sessions. (This added realism to the exercises). There was a lot of yelling, banging on tables, the ubiquitous single light bulb overhead, and implied threats of a very personal nature, judging from the interrogators’ body language. Some of the “prisoners” were graduates of the military’s SERE School, so the stuff we were told to do by the Intel staffers were a walk in the park for them. SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape) is a program that provides military personnel with training in the Code of Conduct, survival skills, evading capture, recovery and dealing with captivity. Please look it up for a full overview.
So, to reiterate, under the orders and supervision of intelligece personnel, I embarassed/humiliated prisoners, deprived them of sleep, and ensured that they were tired, cold, miserable, and smelly, all in a training environment.
So these guys at Abu Ghraib took a buch of pictures of naked Iraqis in a dog pile, were parading naked prisoners around female soldiers, and told a couple guys that if they moved off their chairs they’d get electrocuted. They harrassed some prisoners and did a bunch of stupid childish hazing. I do not see where they themselves tortured anybody. From what I’ve seen, their behavior was directed and orchestrated by civilian interrogators contracted by the CIA. I find that scenario highly plausible and believeable given my prior experience with military interrogators and the rampant use of civilian contractors by the CIA to do their dirty work. The MP’s, Army Reservists who were not full-time soldiers and had not been assigned to the prison for very long, have been scape-goated by the entire Western world. If indeed there was any torture at all, look to the civilian contract interrogators, not the MP’s.
Of the soldiers involved in the case, the Army removed seventeen soldiers and officers from duty, and seven soldiers were charged with dereliction of duty, maltreatment, aggravated assault, and battery.
•Colonel Thomas Pappas was relieved of command of the 205th Military Intelligence Brigade. He was in charge of military intelligence personnel at Abu Ghraib. He was fined $8000 under the provisions of Article 15 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice (nonjudicial punishment). He also received a General Officer Memorandum of Reprimand (GOMOR) which effectively ended his military career.
•Lieutenant Colonel Steven L. Jordan became the highest ranking Army officer to have court martial charges brought against him in connection with Abu Ghraib. LTC Jordan, a reserve civil affairs officer, was director of the Joint Interrogation Debriefing Center at Abu Ghraib prison.On August 28, 2007, Jordan was acquitted of all charges related to prisoner mistreatment and received a reprimand for disobeying an order not to discuss a 2004 investigation into the allegations. His career is effectively ended.
•Specialist Charles Graner was found guilty of multiple charges and was sentenced to ten years confinement, forfeiture of all pay, a dishonorable discharge and a reduction in rank to private.
•Corporal Joshua Lee Betts, of the 321st Military Intelligence Battalion, Detachment 9, pled innocent to his charges. CPL Betts was later cleared of all charges due to lack of evidence.
•Staff Sergeant Ivan “Chip” Frederick pled guilty to multiple charges and was sentenced to eight years in prison, forfeiture of all pay, a dishonorable discharge and a reduction in rank to private. He served 3 years and was paroled on October 1, 2007 .
•Sergeant Javal Davis pled guilty to multiple charges. He was sentenced to six months in prison, a reduction in rank to private, and a bad conduct discharge.
•Specialist Jeremy Sivits was sentenced by a special court-martial to the maximum one-year sentence, in addition to being discharged for bad conduct and demoted, upon his plea of guilty.
•Specialist Armin Cruz of the 325th Military Intelligence Battalion was sentenced to eight months confinement, reduction in rank to private and a bad conduct discharge in exchange for his testimony against other soldiers.
•Specialist Sabrina Harman was sentenced to six months in prison and a bad conduct discharge after being convicted on six of the seven counts she was charged with. She had faced a maximum sentence of 5 years.
•Specialist Megan Ambuhl was convicted and sentenced to reduction in rank to private and loss of a half-month’s pay. She was allowed to remain in the military.
•Private First Class Lynndie England was convicted of multiple charges. England faced a maximum sentence of ten years, but was sentenced to three years confinement, forfeiture of all pay and allowances, reduction in rank to Private and received a dishonorable discharge. She was paroled on 3 March, 2007, after having served 521 days. She will remain on parole through September 2008, when her three-year sentence will be complete.
•Sergeant Santos Cardona was convicted of dereliction of duty and aggravated assault and served 90 days of hard labor at Ft. Bragg, North Carolina. He was transferred to a new unit and was eventually promoted to Sergeant. He is currently with a unit selected to train Iraqi police.
•Specialist Roman Krol pled guilty to multiple charges. He was sentenced to ten months confinement, reduction in rank to private, and a bad conduct discharge.
•Specialist Israel Rivera, who was present during alleged abuse, was under investigation but was not been charged and has testified against other soldiers.
•Sergeant Michael Smith was found guilty of multiple charges and sentenced to 179 days in prison, a fine of $2,250, a demotion to private, and a bad conduct discharge.
For those unfamiliar with the Uniform Code of Military Justice, a Bad Conduct Discharge is a punitive discharge that can only be given by a court-martial as punishment to an enlisted service member. Bad conduct discharges are often preceded by a period of confinement in a military prison. The discharge itself is not executed until completion of both confinement and the appellate review process. Virtually all veterans' benefits are forfeited by a bad conduct discharge. A Dishonorable Discharge is a punitive discharge that can only be handed down to an enlisted member by a General Court-Martial. With this characterization of service, all veterans' benefits are lost, regardless of past honorable service. This type of discharge used to carry a heavy stigma as it made obtaining gainful post-service employment extremely difficult. Also, many states will prohibit ownership of firearms from those who have been discharged dishonorably, as does Federal law.
The commanding officer at the prison, Brigadier General Janis Karpinski, was reprimanded, and demoted to the rank of Colonel on May 5, 2005. Her demotion was not officially related to the abuse at Abu Ghraib prison. General Karpinski ( I refuse to acknowledge her demotion) has denied knowledge of the abuses, claiming that the interrogations were authorized by her superiors and performed by subcontractors, and that she was not even allowed entry into the interrogation rooms.
Karpinski claims the particular wing of the prison where the events took place was under the control of military intelligence "twenty-four hours a day." She claims Army intelligence officers encouraged guards to torture prisoners as an aid to interrogation, and that she was a scapegoat. A June 2004 BBC article said, "Gen Karpinski believes the soldiers had not taken the pictures of their own accord." It quotes her as saying:
"I know that the MP unit that these soldiers belonged to hadn't been in Abu Ghraib long enough to be so confident that one night or early morning they were going to take detainees out of their cells, pile them up and photograph themselves in various positions with these detainees."
In an interview with BBC Radio, Karpinski claimed that Major General Geoffrey Miller, who was sent from Camp X-Ray in Guantanamo Bay to improve interrogations at the Iraqi prison, told her to treat prisoners "like dogs" in the sense that "if you allow them to believe at any point that they are more than a dog then you've lost control of them". General Miller denies that he ever made the remarks.
In November 2006, Karpinski told a Spanish newspaper she had seen a letter apparently signed by now-former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld that allowed civilian contractors to use techniques such as sleep deprivation during interrogation. She stated, "The methods consisted of making prisoners stand for long periods, sleep deprivation ... playing music at full volume, having to sit in uncomfortably ... Rumsfeld authorised these specific techniques." According to Karpinski, Rumsfeld's handwritten signature was above his printed name and in the same handwriting in the margin was written: "Make sure this is accomplished."
If you want to blame people, blame the CIA and Department of Defense for playing dirty. Blame Donald Rumsfeld for letting things get out of hand and for not policing his cronies. Granted, “I was just following orders” is not a reasonable defense for misconduct, but trust me when I say that intelligence personnel are very persuasive in the ways they phrase their orders to guard personnel and phrase things so that they sound perfectly legal. I can guarantee that with civilian CIA contractors in the mix, the MP’s were made to feel pretty much helpless to do anything other than what they were told. A bunch of reservists pulled from jobs at pizza places and Wal Marts, and newly assigned to the prison, in my humble opinion, aren’t likely to question the CIA.
Again, I don’t have any real issue with harrassment and hazing in a controlled manner to break down prisoners for interrogation. Ocasionally, alternative measures have to be employed. People are not just going to cough up valuable intelligence by us asking “Pretty Please”. Let’s be adults here. Sleep deprivation, loud music, bread & water, yelling and shouting, naked parades, those are fine. Beatings are not okay. Breaking bones is not okay. Complete lack of sanitation is not okay. Sexual assaults are not okay. I’m not sure yet where I stand on waterboarding.
Scapegoating American soldiers so that the CIA can slide their dirt under the rug is also not okay. Do not sacrifice your soldiers for the supposed greater good of secrecy, because pretty son you’ll run out of soldiers willing to serve. Nobody wants to get thrown under the bus. Lynndie England may have been photographed holding a prisoner on a leash, but who was holding her leash?
Sunday, October 28, 2007
You never know when you’ll be given an opportunity to do a good deed.
Last night, the wife and I had to make a WalMart run for the weekly grocery stockpile, and since she’d worked till 11PM, we didn’t even get there till almost 1AM (watching the end of Game 3 of the World Series delayed our departure) and it was almost 2AM as we left.
We had just pulled out onto the main road and started to accelerate when Crys jerked the wheel to the right and said “Holy CRAP!” I had been in La La Land looking out the window and wasn’t quite sure what we’d almost hit till she said “Did you see the little kitty in the road?” No, I hadn’t…
We quickly did the world’s most illegal u-turn and pulled back towards the cat, who was sitting smack in the middle of the traffic lane. I just wanted to get him out of the roadway so he wouldn’t end up a little roadkill smear. He turned and started to run back towards the woods, but as soon as he heard my voice saying, “Go, little kitty!” he turned around and ran straight towards me with the most pitiful mewling I’ve ever heard. I scooped him up off the road and the poor little thing started to purr and meow and nuzzle me. I thought I’d melt right there.
Here’s where it gets complicated.
I am a HUGE cat person. I’m a complete and utter sap for kittens. This guy was MAYBE 8 weeks old at the most, a little orange male tabby, nibbling at my fingers and talking to us, trying to climb my shoulders, and I simply couldn’t leave him in the roadway, so I jumped back in our car. The problem? Crys is highly allergic to cats. We tried to have a cat once, and once he hit about 7 months old & started to shed more, she broke out in WELTS. Some folks get hives; these were swollen to enormous welts, and in very inconvenient spots too. Her lip would swell up, or her eye would almost swell shut; it looked like I was beating her. Finally the cat was given to a friend, and the swelling went away immediately.
We started driving, and all the while my new fuzzy buddy was trying to eat my fingers and crawl all over the car. Crys is in a near panic, expecting any second now to erupt into anaphylactic shock and swell up like a Zeppelin, and we’re trying to determine what to do. After a quarter mile we decided to run him over to our friends Cori and Robin, who were the only people we could think of who would take in a stray cat and who also might be up at nearly 2:30 AM. They recently had lost a kitten to a pit bull and this little guy could be a suitable replacement.
Sure enough, they were more than happy to take my little charge under their care. He was quickly fed, devouring a plate of food, and he curled up in Robin’s lap to sleep after exploring a bit. The little dude never stopped purring once the whole time. I think he was already socialized to people, since he showed no fear of us and was more than ready to crawl all over us, and he was already weaned. However, a busy roadway is no place for a half-pound kitty and now he has a safe & happy permanent home. He’ll get a once-over from a vet in the next couple days and best of all, I retain visitation rights. Having been rescued next to Wally World, he’s now been christened, of course, Wally.
I’m a regular viewer of all the Animal Planet rescue shows, based in Houston, Detroit, Phoenix, and elsewhere. I’ve wiped many a boo-hoo off my cheek while watching those shows. I’m looking right now at a sleeping Dachshund sprawled on my couch who was a shelter rescue last Christmas. That little dog is just the coolest. So be careful as you motor around town. That little speed bump up ahead could be an adorable little buddy in need of rescue.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
It has now being widely reported that Professor Albus Dumbledore, beloved headmaster at Hogwart’s School for Wizards (ie: a character in a fictional book series) is gay. Oh, the scandal!
J. K. Rowling, author of the wildly popular Harry Potter book series, said recently that the character of Dumbledore was gay. Did I ever suspect that Dumbledore was gay? Nope. How does this affect me? It doesn’t. How does it affect my opinion of the Harry Potter books and films? It doesn’t. Does it even matter that Dumbledore is gay?
No, it doesn’t.
Why should it? Does being gay make him a bad teacher of young wizards? Not that I can see. Does being gay mean he’s a threat to the students? Not hardly; he’s gay, not a pedophile or sexual deviant. Does being gay mean you should stop reading the books or seeing the films? Only if you’re an idiot.
So what if he’s gay? In the same vein that Harry Potter is a positive role model for kids who feel a bit different and a bit outcast, teaching them to believe in themselves, mayhap Dumbledore’s being outed can serve as a positive as well. Maybe some young gay adolescent can look to the character of Dumbledore as a positive role model, a wise professor who is a respected leader in his vocational field, an admired colleague, and much revered and beloved friend to all.
The only real downside I personally can see is that it gives new fodder for right-wing extremist religious zealots who have nothing better to do than bash the Potter books as being some sort of gateway to devil worship. These same wingnuts try to ban the Teletubbies as gay icons.
Tinky Winky is gay because he has a purse? Hulk Hogan has a fanny pack, so does that make him gay too? C’mon. Be real. Besides, no self-respecting gay dude that I’ve ever met would carry a red pleather handbag with a purple ensemble. That’s just tacky.
Do your monthly self-exam. Get a mammogram if you need one. Do what you gotta do.
My mom's cancer was caught super early on a routine mammogram and was treated immediately and agressively. She's doing great, and has been cancer-free for just about a year now.
Don't become a statistic. Become aware, become educated, and become empowered.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Never underestimate the power of a random act of kindness. A simple gesture can make a tremendous impact upon the recipient. I myself benefited from a simple kind act that probably seemed pretty inconsequential to the guy who helped me out, but to this day I recall his name even though we only met once, briefly, and haven’t spoken since. I try my best to pay it forward whenever I can, to keep the wheels of common decency turning, but I never really got a chance to thank him.
Back on September 13th, 1999, my ex-wife and I drove 3 ½ hours from our home in Bangor, Maine to Foxboro, Massachusetts to see the band REM at the Tweeter Center for the Performing Arts (which to me will always be Great Woods). It was a long drive, and we got there early to get good parking and to get a good spot on the lawn, since our tickets were for the general admission area. With some extra time to kill, we rode through the surrounding area and found an open liquor store that seemed to be jam-packed and doing a brisk business. It was time to get some tailgating supplies.
We picked up some snacks and a six pack of Samuel Adams Boston Lager, since no trip to greater Boston is complete without some Sammy, and headed back to the stadium. All parked and set up with a couple folding chairs, it was time to crack open a frosty adult libation….and guess who forgot that Sam Adams doesn’t come with a twist-off cap? Yeah, me.
What to do? A Saturn lacks the big metal bumpers to pop a cap off with. Being a non-smoker, I lacked a Bic lighter with which to do that cool bottle-opener trick. My belt wasn’t equipped with a rodeo cowboy serving-platter buckle to try, and using your teeth only works in those mid-80’s Hollywood college party movies. Oh, crap.
Well, maybe one of the several groups of fellow revelers around me has a bottle opener I can use?
Sure enough, the next group over had an opener, and the very nice fellow that I struck up a conversation with gifted me before we parted. He produced a set of keys on a key ring, and from of this key ring he unhooked a simple plain silver metal bottle opener and bequeathed it to me along with his card, saying that no one should ever be without their own bottle opener and joking that I should never think that folks from Massachusetts were unfriendly.
That was just over 8 years ago; I still have that opener on my key chain. I managed to keep it in the divorce. I’ve used it thousands of times, both on my bottles and the bottles of others, at concerts, parties, cookouts, wakes, weddings, sporting events, and myriad other events. No one should ever be without a bottle opener.
So, thank you. Today I finally say thank you to that kind, unassuming fellow with the spare opener. Seth Taylor, founder of Molecularware, a biotechnology and pharmaceutical software company, and current managing general partner of Vectur, a bioscience consulting firm, holder of an MBA from MIT and a PhD in molecular biology from Johns Hopkins, and all-around decent guy, thanks. Your kindness has never been forgotten.
And to all my readers, I challenge you to go commit a random act of kindness. Go forth and be decent. You’ll feel better, and you’ll probably make a difference.
This gets my vote as Quote of the Week:
“It’s the woman who can give up her youth, love and family for the fatherland and the nation, those who can put the mass and their comrades before themselves for the happiness of the people and prosperity of the nation who are the true beauties….Korean women are the flowers of the peninsula, who honor their country by marrying wounded soldiers, and are able to fight off a hundred invaders while achieving breakthroughs in science….. “
Noted ladies man and pint-sized fruity dictator Kim Jong Il of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea.
If North Korea is a peace-loving nation not at war with anyone, where are these wounded soldiers coming from? Who is invading North Korea in such hordes that women must fight them off by the hundreds? And when the entire country is pitch black at night due to a lack of electricity and people are starving due to crop failures, where are these scientific breakthroughs, unless you count nuclear testing and the selling of nuclear technology to terrorist states.
My apologies, dear readers. I switched shifts at work last week and I'm still making the adjustment. Instead of working 4 days a week, noon to whenever, with Tuesdays off to write, it's now 5 days a week, 4AM to noon. So I get up at 0230 and leave at 3AM, driving the hour in to Charleston to start at 4. Yay me.
I promise to write more.....really!
Sunday, October 14, 2007
I wanted to make sure the marriage lasted the weekend before I started laughing TOO hard.
Pamela Denise Anderson Lee Anderson Lee Anderson Ritchie Anderson…who married Tommy Lee the first time after knowing him for 96 hours and made sex tapes with him that were “stolen and leaked”, and who had a 5-month marriage to Kid Rock (Bob Ritchie), has now married Rick Salomon, who was married to Shannon Doherty for 9 months and is probably best known for marketing his own sex tapes with Paris Hilton.
They got married in between Pam’s performances in Vegas as the eye candy for Dutch magician Hans Klok, no less. This is all so delightfully white trash that it practically writes itself. Tommy Lee & Kid Rock just had a fistfight over Pam at the MTV VMA Awards, and now she goes & marries a fellow amateur porn star. Considering their collective pasts, the government in Baghdad is more stable than this marriage.
These two are single (or double?) handedly turning marriage into a farce, yet no one wants to legalize gay marriages? Why is it that pretty much all the gay friends I have are in stable long term relationships but can't get married, and straight couples treat marriage like it's just something cute to do on the weekend after one too many Red Bull & Jaeger shooters?
(Refer back to these for the back story:
Finally…seven weeks after this ordeal started, it’s finally over. After another round of bank visits and phone calls, Wachovia has finally relented and given back the money taken from us during this absurd fiasco. We FINALLY got a live human on the phone who had a clue, a guy named David, and between him and our local bank person, Dianne, we finally put this monster to bed. Yayyyyy…….
Of course it still took several calls and transfers and hassle, and it wasn’t even towards us all the time; poor Dianne got stuck on hold and sent to non-existent extensions and made to wait and tap-dance too. It’s bad enough when a company screws around the customers, but to screw around its own people, managerial-types no less, that just blows me away.
We’re sorta still held hostage by Wachovia, though. See, in a rural town of 6000 people, the banking is a bit limited. We have 9 banks in town, actually, but apart from Wachovia there’s only one bank in town besides Wachovia that’s a nation-wide operation. The rest are local banks and one regional bank. I already had a bad experience with the other national bank so I’m not switching to them, and I really prefer the convenience of being able to go anywhere nationally and have a branch there, or at least an ATM that I don’t have to pay a million bucks per transaction to use.
So I’m stuck with Walk All Over Ya for the meanwhile….we’ll see what happens next.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Please tell me you’ve seen the commercial for Cashcall.com? The commercial where a smiling Gary Coleman tells you to call these guys for money when you need a little help? I guess Gary Coleman should know since he hasn’t had a steady acting gig since 1986, when Diff’rent Strokes was cancelled. Apart from a guest spot in 2004 on VH-1’s “The Surreal Life”, the last job I know he held down was as a mall security guard. At the hulking height of 4’8”, shoppers cowered in fear of Officer Gary.
Anyways, I digress. If you read the fine print of the aforementioned Cashcall ad, it says you can get a $2600.00 loan at a 99% APR (annual percentage rate) with only 42 payments of just $216.55.
I’ll let you digest that a moment. Now, after you wipe up the coffee you just spit on the screen, since you probably did the math like I did, think about this: if someone needs a cash loan from a fly-by-night place that badly, do you think they can handle a $216.00 payment every month? That’s more than my light bill was last month, and I know that I found that a bit steep. The average person did a cursory look at 2600 divided by 216.55, and it comes out to 12 payments, and then add maybe one more for interest, right? Not quite, Einstein….that FINE print said 99%!!!!! And it said 42 months!!!! Do that math again…. (insert Jeopardy Theme here)….and you get a total payment of…..$9095.10.
Holy crap, Batman! Ten GRAND! And these companies target the people who can least afford to be grafted & grifted yet need the money the most. That’s just wrong.
Rent-to-own operations like Rentway and Rent-a-Center do the same thing. They suck needy, broke, credit-risk people in with teaser payments on goods that look so great on the showroom floor, and by the time you pay it off you’ve paid three times the MSRP for the item. And you’re really only renting it if you plan to give it back. Otherwise, you’re paying a weekly/monthly fee with jacked up finance charges to buy something, which may or may not have already been used by someone else before it got repoed and squirted with Febreeze to drop off at your house.
These cash advance, title loan, and check cashing places are everywhere, like mushrooms after a heavy rain. I live in a town of approximately 6,000 people, and when I drove around town to check for myself, I found 16 cash advance/title loan/check cashing places, and another 5 alternative financing lenders. That’s freakin’ ludicrous. That’s one for every 375 people in this town. Of course we also have the obligatory Rentway and Rent-a-Center too, and I see their delivery trucks scurrying to and fro like ants at a picnic any time I venture outside.
Under the federal Truth in Lending Act, the cost of payday loans must be disclosed. Among other information, you must receive, in writing:
• The "finance charge" (a dollar amount)
• The annual percentage rate (the cost of credit on a yearly basis)
A cash advance loan secured by a personal check, such as a payday loan, is very expensive and risky credit. Let's say you write a personal check for $115.00 to borrow $100.00 for up to 14 days. The lender agrees to hold the check until your next payday. At that time, depending on the particular plan, the lender deposits the check, you redeem the check by paying the $115.00 in cash or you "roll-over" the check by paying a fee to extend the loan for another two weeks. In this example, the cost of the initial loan is a $15.00 finance charge and 391% APR. If you roll-over the loan three times, the finance charge would climb to $60.00 to borrow $100.00. So you can see how easy it is to go even further into debt doing this.
Again, these businesses, despite their public relations spins to the contrary, are most often located in lower-income neighborhoods and outside military bases, where young people with limited credit are seduced by the prospect of fast and easy money. Though payday lending is primarily regulated at the state level, Congress passed a law in October 2006 that caps lending to military personnel at 36% APR. The Defense Department called payday lending practices "predatory," and military officers cited concerns that payday lending exacerbated soldiers' financial challenges, jeopardized security clearances, and even interfered with deployment schedules to Iraq.
Payday lending is legal and regulated in 37 states. In 13 states, it is either illegal or state law makes it impossible for these establishments to operate. When not explicitly banned, those laws that prohibit payday lending are usually in the form of usury limits: hard interest rate caps calculated strictly by APR. Most states have usury laws which forbid interest rates in excess of a certain APR. Payday lenders have succeeded in getting around usury laws in some states by forming relationships with banks chartered in a different state with no usury caps (such as South Dakota or Delaware). This practice allows the loan to be governed by the laws of the state the bank is chartered in. This is the same doctrine that allows credit card issuers based in South Dakota and Delaware (states that abolished their usury laws ) to offer credit cards nationwide. That’s why every 3 days you get a credit card offer in the mail from a bank in Delaware.
I myself have never used a place like this, but I know folks who have. I used to get daily calls at work from these places looking for my co-workers trying to collect on debts. I’ve seen one guy borrow from one place to pay off another, continuing his debt cycle, and then having to go to a car title loan place to pay off the second lender. His truck has been mortgaged out so many times it’s probably been paid for 3 times over.
No wonder Gary Coleman is cackling like a madman as that commercial ends. He probably got an insane paycheck off the backs of people in debt up to their eyes. Job or no job, dude, have some ethics. As with anything money and credit related, it’s caveat emptor, or buyer beware. Make sure you know what sort of a hole you’re digging, because if you dig your hole too deep, someone’s just gonna pile the dirt on top of you to make room for another check cashing place to be built.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Seems there’s been whales in the news these past few weeks. I’m a big fan of whales myself, and one of the few things I miss about living up north is going on whale watches.
What’s a whale watch, you say?
A whale watch is where you pay an exorbitant sum to go out about 25 miles offshore with a passel of other tourists to look at whales swimming about. I’ve been on several whale watches, out of Newburyport, Massachusetts and Bar Harbor, Maine. A couple of the trips were in near-perfect weather with sunny skies and a smooth glassy sea. A couple others were gloomy and rough and had me tossing lunch to the gods of the sea. But each and every time I was amazed and awestruck while watching these graceful majestic creatures in the wild up close. To look over the side and see a 45-foot humpback just 15 feet away, with that giant, intelligent eye looking up at you, it’s mind-blowing. I’ve seen humpbacks, finbacks, and Minke whales, along with several species of dolphin & porpoises, and once I got to see a massive 40-foot long basking shark. If you ever get the opportunity to go on a whale watch, do so.
Last week, 5 members of the Makah tribe in Washington were indicted after killing a gray whale without a federal permit or tribal elder permission. Nominally, I’m against whaling for commercial purposes, but I can understand native tribes hunting a single whale annually as part of tribal tradition, in part because it does keep part of their heritage alive and in part because traditionally they don’t waste anything from the animal’s carcass.
The federal government removed the gray whale from the endangered species list in 1994. Five years later, with a permit from the National Marine Fisheries Service, Makah tribal members killed their first whale in more than 70 years.
According to the indictment, the five took two motorboats into the Strait of Juan de Fuca off the tribe's reservation at the tip of Washington's Olympic Peninsula on the morning of Sept. 8 and harpooned the California gray whale. They then shot it at least 16 times with a high-powered rifle, authorities allege. The whale sank and was not harvested, which really makes me sad since the whale now died for no purpose.
Back in May, tribal Eskimo hunters killed a 50-ton bowhead whale in Alaskan waters, and as the carcass was being stripped, an amazing discovery was made. Fragments of a whaling harpoon dating back more than a hundred years were embedded in the blubber near the whale’s shoulder. The weapon was used more than a century ago by whalers, enabling researchers to estimate that the whale was at least 115 years old and providing more evidence for their long-held belief that the bowhead whale is one of the longest living mammals on earth, surviving for up to 150 years.
Experts identified them as parts of an exploding lance made in New Bedford, Massachusetts in the late 1800s, when the city was the world's whaling capital. Hunters would spear the animal with the weapon, which would detonate once inside. Because the bomb lance was patented and stocks were used up quickly, the experts identified a narrow window in which they believe the whale was shot, sometime between 1885 and 1895. That’s just amazing, and sad at the same time that the animal had lived so long and seen so much.
On a happier note, in August a right whale and her calf were spotted about 20 miles off Rye Beach, New Hampshire. Rye Beach is about 15 miles from where I went to high school, and that area of ocean is an excellent place to see whales. The right whale is critically endangered, numbering perhaps 350 left in the world. Before the whaling boom of the 1700’s and 1800’s, the numbers of right whales were in the hundreds of thousands.
Researchers are very encouraged to see that this whale and her calf were in good health.
Right whales occur along the East Coast of the U.S. and Canada, with five known “hot spots,” or high-use areas, from the Bay of Fundy and Scotian Shelf off the coast of Canada, south to the coastal waters of the southeastern U.S. The only known calving ground for this species has been identified off the coasts of Georgia and Florida. The whales migrate from their feeding and nursery areas in the northeast to the calving grounds during the fall months, arriving in the southeast U.S from late-November through January. As the only known calving ground this area is extremely important to the population, providing shallow, protected waters for newborn right whale calves.
So if you’re a boater on the Carolina coast, keep an eye out and you might see a wonderful sight over the winter.