About a month ago I decided I should start reading other military blogs again.
I do this every year or so in order to see what’s going on in Milblog World and to see if I’m missing any great writing or stories. But so far, once again, I’ve been disappointed. The blogs I find all seem to be the same, the only things they do are:
– Repost current event news articles
– Talk about current events
– Talk about how stupid liberals are
I think I wrote this exact same post a couple years ago because it was the same thing then. After devoting several seconds of brainpower to thinking of a milblog I like, one that tells actual stories of military life, the only one I could think of was this one:
As we crept ominously through the month of October strange and unsettling things began to occur around our area of operations. Sightings of the elusive Chupa Cabra increased. I’m not kidding either. Our air guys claim to have spotted this creature skulking through the streets of Kharmah…This month also marked the founding of the Kilo Gentlemen’s Club. This exclusive association sponsors a number of activities for men of distinguished taste in an effort to cultivate a more refined atmosphere around the FOB. These include mustache grooming, cigar smoking, and Chupa Cabra catch and release programs.
See? FUN STORIES!
I miss the fun story blogs, and I realize this is partly my own fault, since I used to write fun stories too and now I don’t.
(BUT I PLAN TO START AGAIN, I SWEARS IT)
Eventually I can’t stomach the milblogs and quit reading them because the anti-liberal nastiness gets to me. I don’t feel welcome on their blogs, and I don’t feel welcome in their version of the veteran world even though we’re all veterans. Why would I, when they believe liberal veterans are idiotic bottom-feeding moocher morons?
People act like all veterans are the same and share the same political beliefs, and if you don’t cling to the popular storyline, you’re dumb.
Guns, for instance. I was in a room with two Marine officers once and the subject of guns came up. Someone was saying how funny it was that when people find out you are or were in the military that you must be a weapons expert. One of the officers told a story about a guy he once met who discovered he was a Marine and launched into a discussion about some gun the officer knew nothing about.
All three of us laughed and said, “Yeah, we only know about the guns the Marine Corps wanted us to shoot! But people assume we know every detail about hundreds of random weapons!”
The conversation then turned to keeping guns in your house, which both of the officers, who had young children, thought was crazy. I’m not necessarily opposed to it, but I don’t have kids. If I did, I’d probably think it was nuts too. I do sometimes think it would be nice to have a shotgun, so if someone did break into my house while I was home, I could just rack that thing and scare him off.
But I’m way more worried about my house getting broken into while I’m NOT home and my theoretical gun being stolen. (I do sleep next to a K-bar I bought at MCT and a machete from a hardware store in Honduras though. It makes me feel better) Having a gun in the house is just an extra source of stress and worry that many of us don’t want or need. Plus I’m too poor to afford buying a gun and to pay to construct a secure place to store it.
Despite our views on guns, we’re still Marines too. You can’t look at us, or look at our rifle range score cards, or check our combat deployment status, and tell us apart from the Marines with arsenals under their beds and ammo stockpiles in their closet.
I feel guilty for not blogging because I’m essentially allowing the conservative military bloggers to represent all service members. I’m letting people think we all think like them.
I’m tired of it.
But after all this whining and boo-hooing, I doubt I’ll write many/any political posts. They just aren’t worth the trolls.
We just need more stories about Chupa Cabras on the internet, and that story about the company gunny dealing with Marine menstruation for the first time.