O Brothier, were ard thow?...

My brother fancies himself a writer, at least insofar that he occasionally posts notes on facebook that are totally deep, man. The problem is, his writing is the most atrocious abomination ever published by the Internet (and that Internet, she's a dirty whore - she'll publish anybody). Here's an example of his latest masterpiece:

there's a lot expected of us and a lot we expect of others... is it really necessary? why can't we jus be who we are and what we wanna be and do what we wanna do with no worries, no fears, no living up to expectations?

The first thing we notice is that he never capitalizes anything. Or, if you're a fast reader, the first thing you'll notice is that what he's writing about is fucking stupid. If everyone decided to "jus be who we are" (sp) without expectations of what you want to be in the future, nobody would become anything. No expectations would mean I would never expect to become America's one-man terrorist wrecking crew. We would just sit and stare. Watching TV, even, involves expectations of entertainment. And having expectations of others is the only way to make friends. I expect value from a friend, otherwise I wouldn't have reason to associate with him.

But we were criticizing his grammar, right? Don't use the term "wanna" in anything. Makes you sound like a preteen complaining about her period.

that question is a lot harder to answer than one can expect... it's a number of different factors, whether it's family values or traditions, religion, heritage, race, culture, roots, where you're born, brought up, raised, friends, family, co-workers, jobs, school, career, social norms, society, government, laws, life, the way the world is and works is expected and expects you to follow and everything is gonna happen this way and that way and you're gonna do this and that and then realize that you're doing it wrong or you're not part of everything else and you must live up to expectations to fit in and so everything can be cool, rite?...

Good god, the listing. MAKE IT STOP! MAKE. IT. STOP!! I think that's the longest most rambling "sentence" ever devised on Earth. And he decides to finish off what's left of the English language by ending with an ambivalent question mark followed by an ellipse. Cuz he cool like dat, yo. When most people say something along the lines of "it's a number of different factors," they usually don't try to fit all possible factors in a single sentence. Here's an example of good listing: "TheCounterTerrorist killed a nun, a priest, and a terrorist, among others on Tuesday." The "among others" encompasses all the hundreds of other people I presumably killed on your average Tuesday. I do not take the time to name each and every one, because I realize that even with something as panty-wetting as me killing terrorists, the women stop swooning and start yawning after the fifth terrorist named. The worst part of his listing is that it's anti-climactic. You expect such a monstrous list to have an orgasmic finish, but it just kind of peters out at the end with a feeble quellipse.

This is how he ends this crap.

why not do what feels right and feels good and makes u happy and forget about all those expectations...

...expect the unexpected...

WHAT?? What does "...expect the unexpected..." have to do with ANYTHING he has just said? Using cliches to end an essay is nice (when you were in grade school), but at least let it agree with the subject matter. You just spent an entire essay deposing the myth that expectations are a valuable commodity, and now you end your bullshit by telling us to EXPECT something? And doing what "feels right and feels good and makes u (sp) happy" is tantamount to hedonism, outside the context of an appropriate moral system (objectivism).

I'm not sure how it is that I came out of the same womb as this guy, but let me tell you - I've been denying it like the holocaust since day one.

Letters

Your sweet letters keep safe in my pack,

Nestled between my e-tool and that damn flak,

Tender whispers of your deepest satin passions,

Crushed beneath a mountain of military rations.

A rough place for such gentle prose,

Wrapped in a waterproof with my extra clothes,

Quiet reminders of your soft caress,

Weigh down my shoulders on this military crest.

It is a soldier's lot to love and leave,

Off to war 'til Christmas Eve,

We made passionate love on that bittersweet night,

I kissed you soft and boarded my flight.

Now I sit in this foxhole, for a precious night's sleep,

Knowing back home you see the bad news and weep,

The bullets keep coming, my body still bleeds,

But this hell seems to fade with each letter I read.

Copyright 2008 Nader W Badri

Warrior's Woman

He boards his plane alone, whispering no bitter uncertain goodbyes, kissing no tearful girlfriend. It is better this way, he tells himself. No attachments to lose his focus on, no wives to cheat on him, no one to hurt if he returns in a flag-draped coffin. But his boots fall heavy on the catwalk, and his heart echoes hollow in his chest. He is fearless – not because he is brave or strong, but because he has nothing so valuable to live for that he would fear for his life. And what good is a girl to a warrior? Here one day, gone the next. The only girlfriend is the long-distance girlfriend who doesn't remember his face, but sounds nice and innocent in the letters she sometimes sends. But still we hump on, and get dumped on, and take it all in stride, always hold our bearing and never lose our pride. We stuff pictures of long-lost loves and those who never knew we loved them and yearned for them in our packs, and we hump our dreams of what life could be, someday, if a warrior's woman exists.

Copyright 2008 Nader W Badri

CounterTerrorist Training

This is a note to all my readers:

I am shipping for Officer Candidate School, USMC in Quantico, Virginia on Friday the 21st of September, 2007. I will try to send a journal of my experiences there to my friend Gary, who has agreed to post them on my blog for me. So anything you see posted here between now and November 30th (my graduation date) will be at OCS.

Time for this would-be hero to become a hero-in-training.

Ooo-rah.

Apple releases it's latest device

It's hip. It's trendy. It's going to change the world.

It's the iBomb.

Madness

Now the gas stations have taken up the sword of trustbusting. Clearly, this is a disgusting crime. What self-respecting person would enter into a voluntary contract with others involving the trade of goods? It's almost as if Chevron thinks itself...human, or something. I, of course, price fix all the time. Why, just yesterday I went to a Sushi restaurant and agreed to the price that I was quoted. Totally fixed that price.

But what if I want to partner up with someone and start a small business, and we collude together and fix prices like maniacs? No one will be able to stop us from charging a million dollars for a toaster. People will come into our shop and be forced to decide whether or not to buy it at that exorbitant price. And we can collude with other toaster sellers and convince them all to sell at a million dollars. It's almost like kicking someone in the groin (except for the part where they can choose to not be kicked in the groin.) Why, no one will be able to stop us - except possibly someone who produces toasters and sells them for less than a million dollars.

Which makes me wonder - why isn't Chevron charging a million dollars for a gallon of gas already? What morons. They could be making a 500,000 percent profit. It would be madness! People would have to make difficult choices like whether to buy Chevron gas for a million dollars per gallon or Arco gas for 2.50 per gallon. What about the rights of people who really really really like Chevron gas? And haven't those people suffered enough in our nation's history? Who will stop Chevron from charging a million a gallon? Who will stop the madness!?

Madness?!?! This is the Federal Trade Commission!!!!!

Our hero.

Duty? Honor? Country? Nahhhhhh...

People keep asking me why I want to join the Marines, usually asked in a tone of voice which implies that anyone considering a military career has put little or no thought into the whole government-owning-you deal. This couldn't be farther from the truth.

Take my reason, for instance:


Damn that's a sexy uniform. It's sexiness is only exceeded by my own, which is considerable. I think that is more than enough reason to join. Also I'm pretty sure you get paid or something. Hoo-rah.