Here I go again......

So the following essay was written last week on Wednesday 24 August 2011. Originally written in a notebook, I had to transfer it to my computer. Some minor editing was done to the paper however I wanted to keep it as nearly as possible to its original form. I hope you enjoy it:

I currently find myself sitting in English class. This is a course that I typically despise. Since starting a blog and writing poetry, my view became more endearing to this subject. So far, I am utterly disappointed and disgusted by this class. My civilian, hipster, Marxist teacher (not to slight any people of those traits, it is mere description) is droning on about an article directed toward anthropology. So far, not one person in my class has provided a successful insight about the article. My teacher is the supreme analyzer in this arena. I find myself again being forced to read things that I don’t enjoy or pull out any significant meaning which I can respect. Deep reading and ambiguous inference (aka. Bullshit) seem to be the focus of this class currently. This is an English COMPOSITION course. The problem is that the powers at hand forced us to buy some 5 or 6 books about Cuba. It is not pure literature either. So far, and looking ahead on the syllabus, I am in a Cuban history class. Thanks but no thanks; I’d rather be kicked in the groin repeatedly by Michael Ballack. It’s not that I despise Cuba or don’t believe it is important to know aspects of her history.

(10 minute pause for in class writing)

I am disgruntled that my “English Composition” class is the bastard child or a provincial history course and a parochial literature course. Better yet, this course is required and is the only English class offered unless you are a major in that discipline. Given that I am an Arabic and German major, please let me choose between a regional history or literature class which actually has an application for me. One of those courses would be a much better use of my brain and talent. I could probably learn more about Cuba’s history and culture by watching an episode of “No Reservations.” Why must I read longwinded or ambiguous texts which all state the same damn thing? The sad thing is, this is only the fourth lesson of this class and I am already this heated! Will it get better? I damn well hope so.

An important factor in producing good work and motivation yourself to do it involves having a genuine interest in the topic at hand. I have no motivation in this class and will therefore devote more time to other subjects. I mean, instead of listening to the droning of my teacher, I am writing a beautiful and critical analysis of the course which he teaches. Any student would put forth the bare minimum in a class they don’t enjoy. Well, it’s true of any student except some of the intellectually insane who do anything and everything for that valedictorian title or Rhodes scholarship. A teacher should respect my admittance of this truth. A teacher should not only teach, but motivate and inspire his or her students too.

I don’t mean for this writing to be a tirade. I am merely discussing the values I hold in my intellectual development. Here is a positive example for your reading enjoyment. Last year, I had to take a philosophy course. At first I was annoyed by the fact that this was another required course. The early classes were annoying and it seemed as though there was never a right answer. Due to this, I held my tongue and made myself the quiet listener. Things changed after the first few weeks of class. My teacher was a very animated man. I attribute this to the fact that he is a Tanker (he works in the Armor Branch in the Army). Outside of animation, he used media, usually humorous media, to kick-start many classes. This was satisfying and made a good springboard into class discussion. My favorite thing, about his used of media, was that he played clips from Monty Python productions. I consider myself a diehard Python. His tactics in class get even better. He led class discussions, not lectures, that incorporated witty examples, drawings, and a puppy (stick figure puppy to be exact, it’s an inside joke). The class moved on from fundamental philosophical theories to the morality of war. This was not only interesting but my teacher “loves War and blowing shit up and driving over stuff with tanks” (Don’t take that too literally, He is simply showing pride in his profession, He is not a loony). This teacher motivated and inspired me to a great degree. I was engaged in class and took time out of class to further pursue discussions with him.

                Why can’t the teachers in other courses of mine do their job as well as he does? Back to the original intent of this writing, my English class is not an English class, nor is my teacher an effective one. I will stop this here so that I do not further rant and potentially find myself in trouble. Until next time dear readers, enjoy yourself.

I am a complete failure at this blogging game.

So after an entire Summer without any posting I have returned to you dear readers. My summer was jampacked with travels, troubles, and fun. I will get to all the information about the summer in a different post. The purpose of this post is to display an in-class essay I did in my English class the other day. Its focus is on that of traveling. The essay was written after reading "Why We Travel" by Pico Iyer. I hope that you enjoy the essay. I was very happy with the product I churned out. Please note, it has not been edited. It is pure stream-of-consciousness.

The Freedom of Traveling:

Thoughts on "Why We Travel" by Pico Iyer

Traveling is a passion of many people around the world. Pico Iyer takes note of this and attempts to explain why people do indeed enjoy traveling. The theme which most stood out to me was that of freedom. When traveling to a foreign country you give yourself the ability to start on a blank slate. Forget about the culture you come from and take in everything you can from the culture you are now a part of. Any place you go, no matter how similar you may think it is to your home country, will have stark differences. The freedom you gain by traveling to different worlds is exhilarating. Your mind is open and your senses are nearly overwhelmed. Sights, sounds, and tastes in this new “world” will leave you wondering why you don’t have it in your country. It is important though not to ponder on such thoughts too much. This will lead to you making comparisons and decreases your openness to the new culture. Clearing your mind of all preconceptions allows you to truly learn the new culture and at least partially assimilate yourself to the native population. Showing respect and interest in another’s culture is very exciting for the people of said country. They will teach you, guide you, befriend you, and also look to you for inspiration and knowledge. Such experiences will make your traveling not only more exciting and interesting, but it will be more fulfilling to your mind. These pure cultural experiences broaden your perspective. Throughout my own travels I have learned very much that would not otherwise be experienced should you only go to the museums and fabricated tourist attractions. Show the people that you are interested in them and they will show interest in you. The act of two people of different cultures working together is a truly satisfying experience for both parties. Although my travel list is not long, I found astonishing beauty and contrast while in Germany and Morocco. Both nations are completely different from the United States and have so much to offer to visitors. Freedom is a joy which all should take part in; freedom from typical food, from the same sadistic political news, from sights and smells all too common. The list could be continued endlessly as the more you put in to your traveling pursuits, the more it will return to you in the form of knowledge and uniqueness. Through travel you have the freedom to become another person. Like stated earlier you begin with a blank slate as you enter a new culture. Immediately upon arriving start filling your slate with the immediate sights and sounds. Remember these and treasure these. Find a way to communicate with locals. Seek out where the most authentic food is. Seek out the places that the façade of globalization fails to cover. By writing on a new slate, you learn much about yourself as you react to all new stimuli. You attempt to perceive things differently and change how you act on certain things. The freedom gifted through traveling is the path toward understanding yourself. It is important to realize that the joys and awe of traveling may not always persist. It is not necessary you adopt all practices of a new culture should some be in conflict with your moral understandings of the world. But these experiences, though not as pleasant, are beneficial nonetheless. They still broaden your mind more and can teach great lessons of who you are. Given this, any and all experiences traveling abroad are positive. There is always something you can learn from this interactions outside of you home nation. I find that since my travels I do indeed perceive things differently. I provide knowledge to others about different cultures in order to prevent foul misconceptions from persisting. I have had many questions asked of me and my experiences in Morocco. The pure fact that it is an Islamic nation leads to many absurd preconceptions being thrown my way. In general, I have never met a more loving and hospitable group of people. This experience truly opened my mind as this was my first time in the non-Western world. I must say it motivates me to travel only in the non-Western world. The more a person can travel, the more a person can gain an understanding of what it is to be human. You think without regards to race, religion, and nationality. Traveling gives you the freedom to remove these constraints from the typical way our minds function. We rarely talk of humans and humanity but of a series of “they’s” and “we’s.” As simple as this may sound it is a morally, ethically, and logically satisfying experience. Freedom is a powerful word. It is even more powerful when achieved. The power of traveling is that of the power of freedom. Open yourself to unthinkable joys and experiences which will serve you throughout your life and the pursuit of finding who you are.



Yet Another Poem

Here's another poem I randomly wrote. Kinda rough but I like it so that's all that matters. Enjoy dear readers.

Life is Good

Some people go

Some people stay

Life goes on day by day,

Take a trip and take a sip

Life only lasts a bit.

Your senses are true

Let them guide you,

Write a poem or play a song

Life isn’t all too long.

Keep in touch with those you love

For love is like infinity

It’s as everlasting as life can be.

The world can be cruel

Don’t let it control you,

Love your life

It may be short

Cherish it for what it is

Remember this cuz life is good.

Planes, Paintball, Cooking, Cigars..........Life is Good

So, this should be a relatively interesting blog post. I am going to skip talking about how hellish this last week was and focus only on my forays down in Florida from Wednesday the 13th to Monday the 18th. Why was I in florida? Well, because of NCPA College Paintball Nationals of course. Nationals takes place in Lakeland, FL. We play in the Single A division (highest level).

And so it began: We left West Point a little after 1600 and headed to Newark Airport. The drive was a constant reminder of why I hate Jersey (the dreary weather didn't help much either). After arriving at Newark, we found out that our flight to Atlanta was delayed. This did not bode well as we had a tight connection as it was. To bide our time a few of us had dinner a Japanese restaurant in the airport. It was surprisingly good. In addition to my main meal, I tried a piece of river eel sushi. It was so flavorful!!!!! Eel meat has the same texture as that of a fish, a revelation in my book. After dinner and a little more waiting our plane arrived and we began our flight to Atlanta. Now the flight was fine, except for one instance of turbulence. The one time we hit turbulence, and it was a big one, was just after I was handed my in-flight coffee. Now remember I am in uniform, gray paints and white shirt. Somehow my shirt was spared but its a miracle i didn't just leap out of my seat screaming because all the coffee which hit my lap was scalding. So the rest of the flight I had the little air vent at full blast on my pants which in turn made me very cold. Oh well. We arrive in Atlanta and guess what? We missed our connection, oh joy. Next flight available, the red eye, 7 hours later. Yes we slept on benches and floors, or at least attempted to. Now you know when you go to the airport you see the people sleeping like we were and your just like, "hmm, how long have they been here?" or, "what are they doin?" Well we got all those looks in the morning. It didn't help that there was 15 of us take up half of a gate's seating area. Luckily we were not in uniform at this point, because then we really would've looked odd. So finally we get to Tampa around 9 or 10 am. We get the bags, we get the vans, and its off to our epic house (which was beyond epic because it was cheaper than your everyday average hotel).

Day 1 in Florida:

So we arrive at the house. Its a mad rush to claim sleeping areas (yes we are so mature). We unpack our stuff and its time to chill, at least for a little. After a Walmart run for supplies (including multiple nerf guns) we head to Central Florida Paintball to walk the fields and sign in. For those who don't understand paintball, walking the field consists of checking out the relative positions of the bunkers on the field and finding angles, shots, blind spots, etc. After that its another Walmart run (I probably went like 10 time over the time we were there) and back to the house to chill. It was decided that we would fix dinner instead of going out. Myself and teammate Taco were very happy about this. We had lobbied very much as we are both self-proclaimed cooks. I would say that Taco is better than me, based on pure experience. Aragao, also was a cook and joined into the fun. The main course of the night was steak. We were going to have two different types: a Spanish style Taco would make and a Brazilian style which Aragao would make. What was my task? Odd jobs at first until I discovered that Taco had also bought fresh chorizo sausage. It was decided that we needed something to put in the rice and that was my job. I took a pan, place an ample amount of Mojo marinade (one of the things Taco was using with the steaks) in the pan, added the fresh chorizo in small blobs, chopped onions, frank's red hot chili sauce, a little salt, and some of the flesh from a lime shredded. This turned out amazing and was added to the sticky rice which Taco made. Everyone loved it. The next thing I had to do was prepare mushrooms because some of the guys wanted them on their steaks. What did I do? I uncapped the mushrooms after washing them and slice them up. I threw them into a pan over a high flame and cooked them in a lot of balsamic vinegar, with chopped onions, and lime zest. These to turned out wonderful. I neither like balsamic vinegar or mushrooms of that kind and I thought they were good. Taco and Aragao and myself had a blast cooking. The rest of the night was fairly uneventful and bedtime wasn't terribly late since we had to get to the field in the morning and begin our run through nationals.

Day 2 in Florida:

We got up, ate breakfast (made by Taco), and headed to the field between 9-10 am. The first day of nationals, the weather was warm (80s to be exact), the air smelt clean, the chatter of paintball guns being prepped drifted through the environment. We were exactly where we wanted to be. Surrounded by ballers, all wanting to kick some ass. We were scheduled three games that day. First University of Tennessee, then Long Beach, and finally Universty of Florida. Our game against UT was a tough one. We lead the game at one point but in the end they edged us out by a point or two. Not terribly disheartened we relaxed and reupped for our next game againt Long Beach. This team took second the previous year and they beat us in our first match in nationals last year. When we finally went against them after some delay, again, we had a lead and eventually got edged out. After this match we only had 45 minutes till our last match of the day. Our game against UF was excellent and we crushed them 8-2 (roughly). We left the field that day content and ready for more.
That night, Aragao's Family came over and his dad fixed dinner for us. It consisted of steak, sausage, rice, and black beans. It was a great meal. Again bedtime wasn't too late. We had wake up at the same time the next day.

Day 3 in Florida:

We got up, ate breakfast (made by Taco), and headed to the field between 9-10 am (sounds familiar huh). So we get to the field and its not long before we have our match against FAU (Florida Atlantic University). Our hopes were up given the previous day's scout report on them. Before our match, Chris Lasoya (pro-baller) came over and gave us some tips and pointers and congratulated us on our performance thus far. The match was rough. We never had a lead on them. We ended up losing by a decent margin and were kicked out of the tournament. We were upset, to say in the least. We cooled out for awhile and then helped support Air Force and Rutgers by coaching from the sideline. When we left the field, we went back to the house and chilled. During this time a few people were watching the broadcast of nationals. Ollie Lang and Chris Lasoya were commenting on their favorite games and teams. They both agreed that we had the most intense/entertaining games. Ollie made the statement that we were basically his favorite college team. They never mentioned once that we lost or were kicked out, they only focused on how awesome we played against some very tough teams in their opinion. UT ended up in first, followed by Long Beach (Cal State). They continually mentioned how awesome we played and how much they loved watching us. We had plenty of reason to have our heads held high. That evening we went to eat at Golden Corral with the Florida West Point parents Club. It was a good dinner and then it was shenanigans time at the house. At this point we had 3 R/C helicopters with missiles, a remote control truck, and about 6 nerf guns. Plenty of skirmishes had occurred the previous two days but this night was particular mayhem. We also had a blast in the pool, making up games, dunking each other, and just bonding as a team. Bedtime was whenever, the next day was a free day.

Day 4 in Florida:


So this day we had off since we got knocked outta the tournament. The whole team went to Busch Gardens in Tampa, save Cpt. Thomas and myself. We both went to Ybor City after dropping Doobie (our coach) of at Tampa airport. Ybor City is a historic neighborhood NE of downtown Tampa. It was founded in the late 1800's by a cigar manufacturer. Today it is a multicultural cigar paradise. This day was one of the best in my life, better than my first kiss, my first trip to Germany, getting my driver's license, etc., etc. Everything felt right, smelled right, and looked right. I instantly felt comfortable and oddly, at home. Everything that day was amazing, perfection, that is if it existed. We parked at the start of Ybor City and as we walked, seeking our first destination we passed bars, tattoo parlors, cigar shops, and restaurants. I knew this was my place. We checked out Ybor Cigars Plus first. I think we were the first customers of the day. A kind lady in her twenties with a heavy Spanish accent showed us to the walk in humidor and told us what was popular and good. We settled on the Mareba Green Mild. An average length cigar with a thinner gauge, wrapped in a flawless green wrapper was to be our first smoke of the day. We were handed a box of wood matches and found a seat just outside their door by the street. It was absolutely mesmerizing. It started of woody, Cpt. Thomas believed it was oak. It transitioned to spicy halfway thru and then blended into a smooth finish. What a great morning cigar. To our luck, the one day we decided to go to Ybor City, their was an Italian festival going on around the "City Square." We bought some tickets and took a lap around checking out all of the vendors. After getting some legitimate Italian Ice, we sat down and watched the contestants of "Italian Idol." Every competitor was surprisingly good. After we finished our Ices, we took another lap and picked which food vendors we would spend our tickets on. After eating I spotted an old lady selling fedoras. Me being the too young of a guy that loves the look of fedoras found an especially dashing one which I just had to purchase. After that we got iced coffees at "The Bunker." It was a very nice coffee shop and wine bar. After this, we left the Italian festival and found ourselves just taking in Ybor City by walking down the strip. We eyed some places to check out on the way, got to the end, turned around, and inspected the different stores. We went to our second cigar bar. It was also the flagship store for La Herencia de Cuba, a brand I had heard of. I met the roller for La Herencia. He looked to be in his seventies by now and he began his career just as his father did, rolling cigars in Cuba. This guy was cigar legend and cigar history. He couldn't understand me (I don't speak Spanish) but Cpt. Thomas asked him and we got a picture together. After having a wonderful cigar there, and buying two for the road, We looked through a few more stores. It never got old. Each place was a new experience. We went to one last cigar bar. I bought a small Arturo Fuente to have a coffee with. I ordered a Cafe Con Leche. This was a standard Latte with a kicker, caramel cayenne syrup. It was great, the boldness of espresso, the sweetness of caramel, and a kicker of cayenne pepper at the end of each sip. It was the perfect companion to a cigar. After this we had to head back to the house back in Lakeland. We had dinner with the parents club again. I had 3 cigars while in Ybor City and brought 17 home with me, well worth the money. I fell in love. A love which I have never felt before. I love my family, I love my friends, I love my dogs, I love Berlin, I love Puerto Rico, but god dammit, I LOVE Tampa!!!!!!! It has everything I like with good weather to boot. Like I said before I felt an uncanny comfortableness in Tampa. Originally my life goal was to open a bar and restaurant in Boston......Um change of plans...........Cigar bar and restaurant in Tampa. I have never felt such an overwhelming sense of rightness and comfort and joy in a city. That one day truly changed me. The rest of the day consisted of dinner and then shenanigans at the house.

Day 5 in Florida:

It was Monday. We cleaned the house and left by 11 am. We got to the airport and much to our dismay, our flight was delayed again. I didnt get back to West Point until 10 pm. No bueno. I was up late studying and catching up.

Conclusion:

So there it is. That was my trip to Florida. I've spent the whole day writing this in chunks. Im going to edit this later and add some of the pictures I took. 3 more weeks and then I'm halfway done with West Point. At this point dear readers, I bid you adieu.

Um, I guess im just gonna write stuff

So, dear readers, this will probably be my most impromptu blog post to date. I have work to do tonight but not terribly much. I find myself sitting at my desk in my lovely barracks room simply drifting away in thoughtlessness. What better of time to right on my blog then when my mind is freely wandering? I have many things to look forward to. Next week this time I will be in beautiful Lakeland, FL for NCPA Paintball Nationals, in four weeks I'll be in Morocco for cultural immersion, the end of my second year here (finally!), and next year this time I will be studying abroad in Morocco. With all of these things floating through my mind I find it hard to concentrate. Hard to Concentrate....that's a really good Chili Peppers song. Speaking of the Peppers, I can look forward to their new album coming out in a month or two as well! Man, isn't life just wonderful? So much to look forward too. All I have to do is take some tests, some finals, do two projects, some quizzes, wake up early...... I'm not complaining, I just gotta keep my head above the water. Maintain as little focus as needed to survive, maximize amount of fun that I can have. That's a principle I think many people could live by. This week has been much better than the last. I don't think I'd maintain sanity here if I had multiple weeks like last week in a row. I have restarted a previous past time of mind. What could it be? Reading my dear Watson. Since Spring Break I've read about a book and a half a week. I am making time in my schedule (partially by putting off work) so that I can read. While thinking about it, I realized that I hadn't read a book upon my own accord since my high school years. This rediscovery of prose and storytelling and information has led me to think more, reflect more, and simply enjoy life more. How did I go so long without books, that is books that I choose to read. I already have a list of books which I will be reading constantly. I have a new found addiction; I guess I can kick Jose Cuervo out..... Well, actually, he can hang around and read with me. I have been pondering lately what I will do after I graduate here. What branch in the Army will I really pick? How long will I stay in? Grad school through the Army or on my own? If I do go to grad school, what will I study? Will I join the CIA? Will I actually open up the bar and restaurant that I have envisioned? All these questions, no answers, at least not yet. What am I doing right now? I just made a latte for myself and my roommate who stopped by the room for a second. I make a damn good Latte. And for kicks we crushed up a lil bit of a Thin Mint and sprinkled it on top......Magical, Relaxing, Refreshing, Delicious. Yes, it is all of those things to me. My love for good coffee, good cigars, good food is something I am proud of. It is not snobby to scoff at Folgers. When I do it is because I have found pleasure unknown to others in the same simple liquid, just done so much better. A good cigar, Oh the joys which a good cigar can bring to a man. You can taste earthiness, sweetness, bitterness, acid, spices and many other things. Every cigar will tell its own story to you. All you have to do is listen intently with a puff or two every few minutes. The world around you melts; you are left alone in contemplation with this beautiful cigar or surrounded by close friends all sharing a beautiful experience. I find myself most relaxed, reflective, and carefree when a cigar rests between the fingers on my hand. The aromas and flavors playing with my senses, watching the smoke dance in front of me, taunting me to join in the festivity. But little does the smoke know, I am celebrating on my palate and in my mind. All this talk is making me want a cigar. I'll shall have one this weekend, on a nice warm night looking up at the stars. And just as I find my mind wondering tonight, so will it wonder this weekend as I puff away at my hearts content.

Open your ears, shit just got real......

As the famous German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once said, "God is dead," I now proclaim, "Logic is dead." Certain events in this current week have made me realize that I am stuck in a hopeless situation, surrounded  by many hopeless people, all serving under a hopeless system. Logic, defined by Webster's dictionary, is the science that deals with the principles and criteria of validity of inference and demonstration : the science of the formal principles of reasoning. This beautiful device which should be held above all other human values and ideals has been brutally murdered and maimed, so that it is unrecognizable to everyone. Hypocrisy, idiocy, and madness have instead taken root. Often we joke about how it is dangerous to use logic here, it is unnatural in this place. The sad thing is, this has become truth, a universal law. Those who hold power, who are blinded over-thinking simple regulations, have began a war against the commoner's mind. They want to bend it to their will, make you an automaton, worthless, incapable of any discretion, and completely destroy your free will. 
We all signed the same papers when we came here, pledging to serve and protect the Constitution which has allowed our country to thrive since its inception. We gave away certain rights when we did that, but we didn't forfeit logic, reason, and common sense. We have taken the same classes, experienced the same indoctrination, and lived among the same conditions. Why is it that we are taught values which are then hypocritically used to demean us, punish us, and confuse us? Hypocrisy, a state of incongruence between one's professed beliefs and feelings, is one of the worst blights one can choose to embody. Why then is hypocrisy and illogical deduction the only way one can be successful here? Or rather, are those qualities which are indoctrinated when leadership positions are given? Is there a dark, secret cult unbeknownst to us until they pick you and develop you into something which we must accept but want to resist with all of our might? I ponder questions like these often here. There is a game that is played here. It is aptly called, "The Game." All may not recognize, at least not by name only, however it surrounds them everyday, follows them between classes, hovers over you as you sleep at night. "The Game" is the way in which one survives this place. It allows them to stay out of trouble, to get good reviews, to please others, to endure. "The Game" is deleterious to all who play it. One thinks, if I play I survive this place. This is the effect in the short term. It will change the way you think, make you submissive like that of a slave, rot away the mental faculties of the precious human brain. It makes you sign a secret pact, one not written on paper but sworn but unconscious oath.  It would read as, "I hereby swear to play by the rules of the Game. The rules include all arbitrary and false rules made by those who control the Game. I will limit the use of my logic and reasoning so that I do not become complacent or self-aware as I remain a member of this institution. Should I fail to follow these guidelines, I shall suffer severe consequences and find hardship in surviving here." As I have never made this oath I can only imagine the true form of the oath. There are those who don't make the oath but attempt to follow it lightly as if to minimize suffering. Those who do not wholly give themselves over to the Game will find themselves constantly questioning themselves, their actions, the events of the day, and will be all the more stressed that we already are here with our restricting schedules and duties. I have chosen to refuse the game and although it may cause hardship, I am at least comforted that I am still living as a free-thinking human and remind myself, "this too shall pass." I feel that now I should break away from the hypothetical, abstract, and heavy prose seen above. As all of you who follow my blog or will be sent this writing, you understand what West Point is, that I am a Cadet, that we live with different rules, and cannot share much in common with our civilian counterparts. Once a semester at West Point, we have an inspection known as SAMI (Saturday Morning Inspection) and In Ranks. This past weekend, we had said inspection. This consists of a night full of dusting, sweeping, organizing, dusting, scrubbing, mopping, and dusting. The next morning, our drawers are open, our shades are up, our clothes are buttoned, our computers are off, and you hope that the one asshole or two in the regiment don't check off your room because then you fail. On this particular weekend, the RTO (a respectable, efficient, high-standard, and often intimidating sort of officer) failed every room he saw, including all of Regimental Staff. As far as my knowledge was concerned, he only failed a few rooms from each company (about 8). This is understandable as very few have witnessed an RTO inspection and lived to tell the tale. My room passed. My neighbors passed. Almost all of my friends passed. Because of a few failures, we are held in SAMI longer than scheduled and issued a total re-inspection by our soap-box preaching CO. This was his personal choice as it seems his ego was hurt by the company not getting a 100% pass rate. After this ensued, we had In Ranks which consist of an inspection of our parade uniform. We stand outside in sub-thirty degree whether with a heavy Hudson River wind and wait nearly an hour for the entire regiment to finish the inspection. Double-Standards are enforced across the board. Inspectors with sub-par uniforms failing inspectees with passable uniforms. Some ranks being checked for a certain item and the next three not. No equality or control was found in this inspection. Hypocrisy. So blatant it makes my stomach churn. After this is over our weekend resumed and we thought we won the war. Sunday night night newsflash, we lost the battle and we are being attacked Monday thru Wednesday. Apparently the leaders of the Regiment, the same ones whose rooms failed, decided that everyone but the plebes needs to be in AMI (regular morning inspection) Monday and Tuesday and WAMI (Wednesday morning inspection) on Wednesday. The kicker is plebes did not have WAMI because they met the unstated, arbitrary, bullshit expectations of the Regiment. Why is it that those who had a first time pass on SAMI are getting punished? Why not put those who failed in inspection and them only. I know of multiple cases where plebes failed over the weekend.....the catch is the blame falls on their TL's, then the SL's, then the PSG's, and so on. It is a responsibility for a chain of command to take responsibility and ownership of each other but fault cannot always be attributed to those the next level up in the food chain. I dutifully kept my room in inspection conditions and looked forward to having PMI (basically allows you to live like a regular human and close your door) on Thursday. Then a 12:06 AM email (which nobody read because we don't check email then) exclaims that we are in WAMI for the next two days. I am sitting in my room right now in WAMI, which is supposed to end at 11 am. Apparently the week after our big inspection, our room standards still are not high enough to please those in power who could not be the standard bearer's  from the start. The biggest news flash of the day however occurred right after lunch before I sat down to write this document on the current state of my beliefs and frustrations. SAMI for the next two days, all passes revoked, all trip sections revoked, no firstie or cow club, mandatory cleaning after close of business, initial inspection tonight at 10 PM. What the fuck is this? Now all those who spent money on tickets, hotels, and made plans this weekend are much poorer than they should be. A friend who hasn't seen his father since he got back from Afghanistan is being kept here. Myself and a few other who have sports competitions, college level sports, must tell are teams sorry and stay here this weekend. Where is the logic? the reason? the foresight and planning? Why do you make such a drastic policy so nearly to the end of the week? Why are we who have maintained the standard being punished for because standards are being incorrectly enforced by those who obviously cannot maturely use the power they have been granted? I have many more grievances which I could point out, but just this one week I have become totally stunned by the pure ignorance and stupidity of this place.

Another Poem

I have recently started reading "If I Die in a Combat Zone" by Tim O'Brien. His book is very reflective and I believe is why I had the inspiration to write this poem. It is probably very crude (like all of my other poems) to the Literature analyst and Poetry connoisseur however I hacked it together while the inspiration had hold of me. Although I may not know too much about the topic, it is something which I will likely endure later in life as I leave this Academy.

War

War, war, every human’s evil core

What is it for, is it ever right?

War is taught, then wars are fought

Innocence caught in a deathly grip

Soldiers wander through the mist

Wondering why it came to this

Whether just or not

We were born to fight

Strapped on boots and gave our rights

Political means’ll likely be our end

But we soldier on and always defend

The country which we pledged our lives

Death we must all accept

No matter how grotesque, gross, or unknown to us

We are thrown together and protect each other

No one wants to see a sad Mother

We fight, we fight with all our might

No matter the cause there’s only one

To make it home to those we love