Here’s A Headline You Don’t See Everyday

“Arrested German spy was a onetime gay porn actor — and a secret Islamist”

Someone has, ummmm, “issues”

As Expected, Jimmy Carter Embarrassed the Shit Out of Us

…mooning over Fidel’s going to an undeserved peaceful end.

Hardest hit? The six year old the Canadians elected, who was late to the “I miss Fidel” party.

Canadian PM pissed off that limp legacy Jimmy Carter got his dictator ass-kissing in memoriam out before he could get a crayon sharpened… https://t.co/3Zx69EDnkV

— tree hugging sister (@treehuggingsis) November 26, 2016

Ding, Dong

The son of a bitch is DEAD.

Fidel Castro is dead and the people gathered here in Little Havana in Miami are celebrating. #WEBN pic.twitter.com/aveuyMjtw7

— Javier Rodriguez (@WEBNtvRodriguez) November 26, 2016

In the early 60's #FidelCastro secretly asked Russia to drop nukes on the US. Other than that….https://t.co/3rUnN3Wh3Z

— A Strong USA ?? (@AStrongUSA) November 26, 2016

Hardest hit?

Jimmy Carter and Justin Trudeau…you’re shocked, right?

Canadian PM pissed off that limp legacy Jimmy Carter got his dictator ass-kissing in memoriam out before he could get a crayon sharpened… https://t.co/3Zx69EDnkV

— tree hugging sister (@treehuggingsis) November 26, 2016

And media people are bemoaning our President-elect’s “lack” of diplomacy in HIS Fidel’s demise tweet, where I think it’s perfectly succinct and appropriate for the moment:

Fidel Castro is dead!

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) November 26, 2016

SWEET! Let’s pray vile brother Raul takes a sudden sharp turn towards the Cuba Libre, shall we?

I Read This For the First Time in My Life Friday

Saturday night, I could have written it.

“Have you news of my boy Jack?”
Not this tide.
“When d’you think that he’ll come back?”
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.

“Has any one else had word of him?”
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.

“Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?”
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind —
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide.

Then hold your head up all the more,
This tide,
And every tide;
Because he was the son you bore,
And gave to that wind blowing and that tide!
~ Rudyard Kipling

UPDATE: And we’ve now heard officially about our boy, John…

Illinois, California Soldiers Killed in Afghanistan Attack

The Department of Defense on Monday identified two U.S. soldiers killed in an explosion at a U.S. airfield in Afghanistan.

The department said 20-year-old Pfc. Tyler R. Iubelt of Tamaroa, Illinois, and 30-year-old Sgt. John W. Perry of Stockton, California, died of injuries inflicted by an improvised explosive device. Two American contractors also died in the explosion Saturday morning. Another 16 U.S. service members and one Polish soldier were wounded.

Iubelt and Perry were assigned to Headquarters and Headquarters Company, 1st Special Troops Battalion, 1st Sustainment Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division out of Fort Hood, Texas.

UPDATE Deux: Oh, more info and his sweet face…

There are other families in this agony who need to be remembered in your prayers as well, please.

We Are So Proud of You, Sgt John

From your first day on Earth, when I looked at your little red face through the hospital glass, to the day we watched you marching with that uniform on and got to meet the incredible woman who would become your wife, with everything (like 2 children) in between and afterwards, you have FOREVER been an integral, much loved part of OUR lives. Your mom Kcruella has been the sister I never had and you? Our second son, Ebola’s little brother, forever cousin, the family ties thicker than blood.

I can’t think of anything to say, my heart is so heavy and sick. Ebola had something perfect to say and so I will leave it to him, with a simple God bless you, baby boy and I pray He holds your family close.

Dear Lord, we love you so much.

I was raised the sole child of two Marines in Southern California; my friends and my family are their friends/coworkers and children from while my parents were stationed there. Three of those children were my brothers, even while we’ve always referred to each other as cousins over the last thirty years. Years of playing hide and seek, riding bikes, of reiterating every line to Predator and/or Aliens as the movies played, laughing and bitching at each other, playing capture the flag, tag, finding injured animals and trying to nurse them to health, and telling bad jokes. We’ve all gone our separate ways over the years: the twins are successful in business, the other two of us entered service. All of us rarely get to see each other, even for special occasions, but it’s always the normal shit talking, smiles, laughter, the hate and situational discontent of youngsters. We all still talk to this day, almost thirty years later.

At 0136Z on the 12th of November, while I slept in the comfort of my home in the Pacific, the Taliban took part of my childhood. They took our brother. They took him from a loving wife, their beautiful children, from his mother and father, from an extended family, of blood and without, who loves him dearly. I’d just shot him a message ten days before, telling him happy birthday. I can’t stop reading our last email chain, filled with our normal bullshitting, split over days due to conflicting schedules and locations.

John: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Me: “I assume making huge mistakes and blaming other people. How’s life cuz?”

John: “Life is good. Probably not as pleasant as Guam, but the ol’ Stan has its perks. You can buy a magic carpet over here but it won’t fly. It will make around $1500 disappear from your wallet. I just got a box from your mom and dad loaded with cookies. How much longer is your tour over there?”

Me: “Probably extending until Oct. Waiting to see if my SERE instructor or HUMINT packages get accepted. If they do, the AF retains me, if not I get out and go back to contracting. How in the fuck do camel rugs run 1500? What a racket. lol”

John: “So you’re staying in Guam until October or are you getting out then? Those rugs are expensive but about 1/4 the cost they are in the states for a handmade Kashmir Persian rug. Smoother and softer than a babys’ ass. They’ve got all kinds of crap out here you can get custom made. I’m thinking about getting a new MOS myself but I’ve got to wait until I get back and find out where the Army is sending me next.”

The last words between John and I are shooting the shit about a fucking rug. To be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way: it was us, as we’ve always been. We’re both family and we know it, it never required quaint expressions or platitudes of familial bullshit. I chuckle thinking about it, things never changed in all those years, even though we’re both vastly different individuals from who we were in our youth. I still remember trying to explain to him as kids that his wearing his LA gear shoes lit up and gave away our position during capture the flag. His talking me into telling a dirty joke, memorizing it the first time through, smiling and running to rat me out to Pop.

I can’t do shit but sit here, hate that I can’t kill every one of these goat fucking shit shamans, and wait for a time where I can do something besides tell our families I love them. When I came into the Air Force, my highest honor, to this day, was escorting my flight commander, Nathan Nylander’s family. The distinct, burning memory I have of that is standing at attention on the flight line as his body was brought off the aircraft, and having his young children begin to cry, not a stones toss from me, as the realization set in that it was really happening. It fucking destroyed me. That pain, though painfully memorable, was momentary. It was the singular hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, until now. I know that is coming for my family and the absolute pain and hatred it inspires in me is indescribable. I want to strike out, to defend something that has already passed defending. There is nothing but the most tenuous vapors the wind to strike at. My hatred accomplishes nothing, which only makes me hate all the more deeply. I am sitting at the squadron right now as I write this, a non-commissioned officer in the strongest military on the planet, thousands of miles from our families, on a beautiful island filled with wonderful people that can’t drive to save their lives… and //I can’t fucking do anything.// Now, I’ve typed a small book and said nothing I wanted to say by it.

I’ll close with what John already knew: I love him like a brother, and I wish all our/my friends had had the opportunity to get to know the fucking badass he grew into. I have no hesitation in saying he grew into a better man than I did and that will live on through his children.

HAPPY VETERANS’ DAY!

Thank you, EVERY one!

This Is What Happens

…when children who got trophies JUST FOR BEING ON A TEAM grow up.
They turn into a transitioning White House staff America can be proud of.

Or they’re in the street with #StompyFeet because #Election #Sadz

Happy 241st Birthday to My Beloved

UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS!!!!

OO-RAH and Semper Fi!!

“Find Hillary”

In defeat, John Podesta hands campaign sword to @KellyannePolls as @HillaryClinton is too #Indisposed to be bothered to appear to her troops pic.twitter.com/lDAcf2bpPC

— tree hugging sister (@treehuggingsis) November 9, 2016

Morning!

BREAKING: Donald Trump is elected president of the United States. pic.twitter.com/yJpgfsAbc6

— The Associated Press (@AP) November 9, 2016

If You Haven’t Already

…then today’s the day.

VOTE

DAMN, it’s gonna be a long night…I HOPE. 😀

The Lies Continue

The Associated Press conveniently misses a rather important fact in this story

UVA dean awarded $3M in Rolling Stone magazine case

CHARLOTTESVILLE, Va. — Jurors awarded a University of Virginia administrator $3 million Monday for her portrayal in a now-discredited Rolling Stone magazine article about the school’s handling of a brutal gang rape a fraternity house.

The 10-member jury’s decision came after they concluded Friday that the magazine, its publisher and reporter Sabrina Rubin Erdely were responsible for defamation, with actual malice, of former associate dean of students Nicole Eramo in the 2014 story “A Rape on Campus.”

I’m glad she won.

But there was no “brutal gang rape.” It was a lie and fabrication. I have sympathy for this “Jackie,” whoever she is; it seems pretty clear that she has a lot of problems.

But she is a liar and has caused a lot of damage to a lot of people.

And that needs to be stated.

Yes, It’s An “Isolated Incident”…

…it’s isolated the ship in dry dock

The US Navy (USN) acknowledged that delivery of the USS Gerald R Ford (CVN 78) will not occur in 2016 as the navy must determine the cause of problems with two main turbine generators (MTGs) on the next-generation aircraft carrier.

The USN has been working to determine the root cause of the problem, and how to fix and prevent recurrence of these issues.

The problem with the MTGs is an isolated incident, Vice Admiral Thomas Moore, commander Naval Sea Systems Command, said on 2 November, at the Washington, DC, Navy Yard.

Seems to me we’ve got some reeeeeeeeeeeeeeally expensive toys of late that ain’t quick working out the way they were supposed to.