Death Wears Duckie Pajamas - bulletsponge accountabilibuddy thread!

The Something Awful Forums > Discussion > Internet VFW > Death Wears Duckie Pajamas - bulletsponge accountabilibuddy thread!

«‹›10 »

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

stealie72 posted:

I've read a bunch of the critically acclaimed books on the forever war (I'm a filthy civvy that didn't participate), and I don't think any one of them has painted as much of a picture of the Iraqi civilians as just some people trying to get through the day like everyone else. I loved reading these.

If it's ok with the thread, I'd like to write a response to this sentiment. Not in a negative way or anything- it's just in a similar vein to what some friends have said to me.

# ? May 24, 2022 15:25

Adbot: ADBOT LOVES YOU

# ? May 10, 2024 12:49

Humbug Scoolbus: Apr 25, 2008; The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers, stern and wild ones, and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.; Clapping Larry

Reading this in handwritten form pushes the reality so much more intensely. This is continuing to be amazing and memory-inducing.

# ? May 24, 2022 15:25

stealie72: Jan 10, 2007

bulletsponge13 posted:

If it's ok with the thread, I'd like to write a response to this sentiment. Not in a negative way or anything- it's just in a similar vein to what some friends have said to me.

It's your thread and we're just your rapt audience. Respond away!

# ? May 24, 2022 15:59

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

# ? May 25, 2022 04:28

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

Sketch from therapy

# ? May 25, 2022 05:25

Pikehead: Dec 3, 2006; Looking for WMDs, PM if you have A+ grade stuff; Fun Shoe

My father was deployed to Vietnam as an National Serviceman - essentially a number was picked out of ~30 others and it was the same number as the day he was born on a particular month. The Australian government then gave him (essentially) a choice: join the army and probably go to Vietnam or go to jail.
I get the feeling he willingly joined the army because That Was The Thing To Do.
I know that he was in combat and shot at people, and was shot in return.

He will not say much about his time there, and while your time in Iraq is leagues away from being in a rifle battalion in Vietnam, your writing gives me a glimpse into what has happened to him in a way that the sterile printed word on any book about war does not.

Thank you.

# ? May 25, 2022 05:40

fresh_cheese: Jul 2, 2014; MY KPI IS HOW MANY VP NUTS I SUCK IN A FISCAL YEAR AND MY LAST THREE OFFICE CHAIRS COMMITTED SUICIDE

�

Your nickname was �Woody� cause youre proportioned like the character?

If yeah thats *hosed up* and also hilarious

# ? May 25, 2022 12:29

fresh_cheese: Jul 2, 2014; MY KPI IS HOW MANY VP NUTS I SUCK IN A FISCAL YEAR AND MY LAST THREE OFFICE CHAIRS COMMITTED SUICIDE

Posting again to apologize for finding the theoretical background for the nick funny.

Ive put a lot of effort with my kids into �make fun of what people do, not what they are� but i am still working on that for myself.

Sorry. Wasnt cool of me.

# ? May 25, 2022 12:37

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

fresh_cheese posted:

Posting again to apologize for finding the theoretical background for the nick funny.

Ive put a lot of effort with my kids into “make fun of what people do, not what they are” but i am still working on that for myself.

Sorry. Wasnt cool of me.

Lol- dude, you cool. I ain't soft skinned.

Woody was shortened from my last name; I'm just a doofy looking dude. I appreciate the concern, tho. 😊

# ? May 25, 2022 12:39

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

Pikehead posted:

My father was deployed to Vietnam as an National Serviceman - essentially a number was picked out of ~30 others and it was the same number as the day he was born on a particular month. The Australian government then gave him (essentially) a choice: join the army and probably go to Vietnam or go to jail.
I get the feeling he willingly joined the army because That Was The Thing To Do.
I know that he was in combat and shot at people, and was shot in return.

He will not say much about his time there, and while your time in Iraq is leagues away from being in a rifle battalion in Vietnam, your writing gives me a glimpse into what has happened to him in a way that the sterile printed word on any book about war does not.

Thank you.

I'm glad I could do that. I wish I could explain how much this comment meant to me. I am just sharing some experiences, and hoping they are valuable beyond 'funny' or 'entertaining'.

My Grandfather was a Marine in Vietnam. He never spoke of it. When I came back from Iraq my first tour, he chased all the grandkids and family from the house, and handed me a beer. The only time I saw the man drink my entire life.
He didn't ask me anything. He didn't converse with me about my experiences. He sat down, "You saw some things."
That was the extent of our conversation.

I can't speak to the experiences of all troopers, but I know mine is slightly on the side of hosed.

# ? May 25, 2022 12:49

McNally: Sep 13, 2007; Ask me about Proposition 305

Do you like muskets?

With your permission I'd like to change the name of the thread to "Death Wears Duckie Pajamas."

# ? May 25, 2022 13:30

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

Go for it!

E- I wonder if half of the value in this is that it's handwritten and pure.

bulletsponge13 fucked around with this message at 16:47 on May 25, 2022

# ? May 25, 2022 13:48

Quackles: Aug 11, 2018; Pixels of Light.

I think the handwriting makes it easier to communicate emotions sometimes. Like, when in the "how you didn't blow up a bridge" story, the commander ordered you to halt? How you wrote that got his mood across really well.

# ? May 25, 2022 17:31

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

Thought this was a fun place to share this.

I asked Uncle Sugar if he could fill in some blanks on what I did.

I'm not allowed to know what I did. Wait until they figure out I never had a clearance, and did some things that def required a clearance.

# ? May 25, 2022 20:43

M_Gargantua: Oct 16, 2006; STOMP'N ON INTO THE POWERLINES; Exciting Lemon

bulletsponge13 posted:

Go for it!

E- I wonder if half of the value in this is that it's handwritten and pure.

Humbug Scoolbus posted:

Reading this in handwritten form pushes the reality so much more intensely. This is continuing to be amazing and memory-inducing.

I love the handwriting. The handwriting does so much more than the text on its own. I don't know exactly what it tickles in my brain that adds something to the telling. I can almost see how the format gives it the right sort of distance from ghoulish mass market post-tour novels.

But even still - Here are the first 5 transcriptions for posterity, but for real anyone reading these words down the line and haven't seen the originals click the button to see the original for the best experience.

If seeing it in font inhibits the writing experience let me know and I'll strip it out and not get in the way.

bulletsponge13 posted:

"I'm good at 3 things
Fighting
loving
And Lying

Before we start, lets get one thing straight - I am far from a virtuous man. But I will be honest and genuine, or at least endeavor to.

I was raised that War Stories were a bitter sacred thing. You didn't request them, they were gifted from the Elders
gifts purchase in blood, the humor encased in scar tissue. They are the lessons that keep you alive, the myths that give you hope the fables that build your culture.

They are sacred, and deserve our honesty. They are sacred to both the speaker and the witness. Too often you read the Vegas War stories - everyone went, everyone had fun, no one lost any money. Too often, either from self service, careful edits, or whatever, the war stories become sanitized and sensationalized
the blockbuster stories of the illiad. That's not truthful, and we - you, the witness, and I, the testifier deserve the truth.

The first question everyone wants to ask a combat veteran is the one you should UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ask:

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

Killing another human being, no matter the circumstances, is a deeply intimate thing. You are bound together, forever. You don't ask strangers about their fetishes. You don't ask a sexual assault victim about their assault.
You Do Not Ask A Trooper If They've Killed

It doesn't bother me to be asked, because I was under no illusions what my job was. I was the god drat Infantry, descended from a long lineage of Grunts.

Yes I have killed. That's the job - part of the job. It's the Hollywood part, the bombastic part, the glamorous visage. There ain't nothing glamorous about it. We lie, we share the great mythology of tinsel town. The Warrior Caste keeps a vested interest in maintaining it. I'm sure I will be guilty of it myself. You need to understand it's an incredibly complex thing; how can the worst moments of my life also be the best? How can I crave poison? It gets in your blood. Beyond that, the childhood I had prepared me in ways I hadn't understood. Trauma conditions trauma. We will get to that later.

Killing was only part of the job - at least to me. I understood the job as
HELP WHO NEEDS HELP
HURT WHO NEEDS HURT
KILL WHO NEEDS KILLED
DONT EVER CONFUSE THEM

Pretty simple, Preschool Level poo poo, but a foreign concept to many in the field. I have to admit all those ideas - what some rear end in a top hat too smart for his britches (Hi!) could call the Hurt/Help/Kill Spectrum - was built on the finest Pop Culture an orphan of the Cold War could devour. With no adults to help filter my intake, and few of moral fiber in my life, I learned from movies, TV, comics, and of course, books. This is important because it will come back up. Style choices, word choices, even phrases long familiar may pop up. Many have been a part of myself for so long, I don't even recognize or notice. Please forgive, and also recognize that cryptonesia is a thing.

Some stories may sound like ones you've read before. You might have. Many weird situations and seemingly "unique" instances are near universal if you were in theater at the time.

So gather round, and an old man will share stories of a wasted youth.

bulletsponge13 posted:

TW: Death

pre:

We found them slain
After the day was won
Together, ankles crossed like lovers -
A Sacred Band of Beltfed
   bound in love & disintegrating links
Their belly scrape boudoir
   sheeted in crimson
      Choirs of flies drone a dirge
For the eternal slumber of those embraced
         At the Tabernacle of Spent Brass

pre:

I watched you, a bit older and more experienced,
   a callous glance in my direction -
Brown skin in blue jeans, dark hair in the morning breeze.
My eyes red from too little sleep and too many drugs,
   dressed in ill fitting clothes -
Our eyes lock, both the earth tones of your ancestoral home

A short breath, a light touch;
my first time with shudders long familiar,
yet new in the open air.

The only scent- the immediate world:
   Baby Wipes & ancient dust.

I watched you with the excitement of having waited so long,
years of reading & watching the tapes I was too young
   to understand.

Both travelled hours and miles
measured in foreign words & different gaits.

All coming down to the exquisite moment;
Slowly gripping fingers, nervous gestures

The look of surprise as it came.
 forever binding us like lovers in a silent film
no words from either of our lips

The embrace fails as you fall in slow motion
I watch, entranced for a brief moment,
basking. 

Caught up in you -
my first love,
my first offering,
my first kill

I left you upon the alter of Athena,
allowing the growing day to carry me to more lovers,
and more heartbreaks

There are days where I still see you in the morning light,
standing proud upon the roof and I smile,
remembering the feeling of excitement.
The excitement of being your last, of being my first,
   the myriad complex of hate and joy, love and loss -

That only your first time can bring

bulletsponge13 posted:

Image: a soldier stands facing away from the viewer, a man is bleeding in his car behind him, waving his arms.

"لكن ماذا عن سيارتي (But what about my car?)"

_{in bold yellow font}"gently caress yo' CAR!"

"Homie, I get that you love this 86 Buick.
But you're gonna bleed out.
Please seek medical attention
XOXO
_{PV2 BAD EXAMPLE.03}"

Baghdad 2003. While Guarding an overpass, a gentleman stopped, waving bloody hands. He had been shot 2x (1 thru-thru in the gut, one through the thigh. Said gentleman was much, MUCH more concerned with his red (I colored it wrong on purpose) Buick
It took multiple attempts to get a local to take him because he kept raising the issue.
One of the few "powerless" moments that DON'T haunt me, because as the old joke goes
"I sent you two boats and a helicopter"
<3 Worrier King 2021

bulletsponge13 posted:

bulletsponge13 posted:
I promise not everything will be a downer- I have some half started stuff from a notebook, and a ton of good/fun memories.

This isn't one. More will come from this incident, but I wanted to get this out because it still bites after 20 years. I carry no blame in her death, but I do carry the obligation to make sure this unnamed little girl isn't just a nightmare. This came spilling out after a brutish therapy session.
pre:
Blood & Vinyl

After hours discotech
the blinking lights a taboo tattoo
on orange and white quarter notes
Tears like sweat streak faces
   dancers with hands thrown up
Big eyes alight with the terror of intrusion

And that petite, frail dancer
   so still
      so quiet
         so peaceful
doesn't dance when the music changes

The music starts again
I turned to the Emerald Dark
Having learned

The vinyl wasn't supposed to be red
pre:
We counted coup
handprints of the Kalashnikov Tribe
With the high bravado of victory
 and the perverse exhileration of being alive
Along side of the poor Panama Nag that brought us
 hitched in destroyed runflats

We counted those marks on her back
 and laughed by tens
Until the humor and joy tapered off
 that delicious dope left our veins
Leaving us sick and sad
 like that faithful camo Appaloosa that bore us
through the din

And we learned that 34 is too many
  to enjoy
    even in victory

bulletsponge13 posted:

"C-4"

2003 Invasion. Somewhere South of Baghdad, possibly Karbala or surrounding Province.

The Big Brains from Intelligence had been staring at some satellite pictures and saw an intact bridge. Concerned said bridge might support the armored element of the local Republican Guard, they handed my section some prepped Demo, and gave us that classic Paratrooper mission: Go Blow Up A Bridge.

Our little field trip of 2 trucks that became our standard patrol element for my first tour. In addition, our Company Commander rode slack in the follow truck.

"Woody!" I hear called over the constant groan of the Humvee engine.
"Yes, Sar'nt" I slur in the way only the Army does.
"When we get there, you are gonna blow the bridge"
"Sar'nt?"
"When we get there, you are gonna blow the bridge" louder in case I hadn't heard him over the engines grumble.
"You know how?"
"Strap charge to pylon. Pull Pins. Run away"
"Correct"

I don't give a poo poo how good of a person you are; how charitable or humanitarian or whatever, blowing up a bridge is cool as hell. Being a Grunt who grew up in the Golden Age of Action Movies?
There was more anticipation than when I saw my frist tit.

The Bridge of Great Concern was a pedestrian pontoon bridge, unable to support a loaded pickup, much less a T-72 tank, the expected armored threat.

I have no doubt my disappointement was palpable. My memory fails in some details - like how the topic even came up - if I asked or my Squad leader offered from pity - but it was decided that if we came across something else to but Forbidden Cream Cheese on, I'd get to blow it.

We made our way back toward the encampment we were staying, me with the keen eye of a child given demolition charges.

Left, up ahead, an abandoned Iraqi Army GAZ truck.

"Can I blow that up?"
"Wait one" Wolford grabbed the handset and makes a call back to the CO "Delta Six, Delta Five Two. Over."
"Five Two, go for Six"
"Delta Six, Delta Five Two. Delta Five Two Delta (D-52 driver) requests permission to blow that truck ahead. Over."
"D-52, D-6. Negative. Too close to locals. Over"
"D-6, D-52. Roger. Out."

Even back then, it was pretty understandable. I don't recall how much C-4 we had, but it was enough to gently caress up a bridge, so definately something that might upset the neighbors. My little game of Eye Spy started again. Bingo, Baby.

Up ahead, a bit away from people, was a big rear end gun, some sort of artillery piece, seemingly abandoned.

"Hey Sar'nt?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I blow up that gun up ahead?"
"Let's find out!" he replied with a smirk. The verbal waltz of standard radio traffic starts up again.
"Delta Six, Delta Five Two. Over."
"Delta Five Two, Delta Six. Over."
"Delta Six, Delta Five Two. Delta Five Two Delta want's to blow that artillery piece coming up on the right, Over"
"Fiver Two, Six. Wait One"
We come about even with the BFG and can see someone else already had their fun, and could oracle the response coming.
I can only recall a few requests, though I want to say there were more. This may sound strange to people unfamiliar with the military, but service attracts iconoclasts, smart asses, and "That Guy" from HS. I can't say that the concept of malicious compliance started in the military, its DNA runs deep there.
Being able to annoy the "adult" on the road trip with some impunity is a gift to those kids who need a bit more attention in class, so the idea that there were more examples than I recount here isn't out of this world.

I will err toward the accuracy of my memory (one of the few times I can). I'm sure the error in my recollection comes from the verbal bureaucracy that radio traffic comes dressed in. It's exactly why the "joke" is funny. I've done my best to be accurate as I can, with the caveat no unit follows all the rules.

As we drove on, I desperately searched for something, anything, I could plausably find an excuse to blow up. I was of the mindset that the demo was given to me, and were mine - everything fun in the Army is "Use It or Lose It"

Ahead I spot the carcass of a dead dog. If I were the enemy I'd put it to use. You can't put a bomb or mine in the corpse if there is no corpse.

"Can I blow up that dead dog?!?" I asked, pregnant with desperation and excitement.
"Delta Six, Delta Five Two. Over."
"Delta Five Two, Six Over."
"Delta Six, Delta Five Two." his voice rang with that smug tone of mischief. "Delta Five Two Delta is asking if he can blow up that dead dog on the side of the road. Over"
"ALL DELTA ELEMENTS, DELTA SIX. Halt. Over." Uncle Mark was mad
We pull off the road a short distance from my requested target. From the follow truck walks up Captain Olsen, our Company Commander, his face lacking the amusement of ours. With no prelude, a hand is jabbed through the open window.

"Give me the C4"

My head immediately jerks to the passenger seat, where my Squad leader sat - I'm sure with the pitiful display of puppy dog eyes. His face was draped in resignation that the fun was over. Or maybe it was sympathy that nothing got blow up that day. The corners of his mouth dipped slightly as he passed over the bundle of dual primed dreams.

The rest of the day was unmemorable, just the dour mood of children leaving the park.

That's how I didn't blow up a bridge.

bulletsponge13 posted:

Not my finest moment...

Baghdad, Spring 2003

On of the more fun aspects of occupation was curfew enforcement. At 10pm, the streets were to be clear - no souls about. Our job was to ensure this happened.

When you get down to it, the fun was being a deliquent enforcer; You, the armed children of George Dubya, run the show. We became jump out boys, our doorless soft skins clown cars of Kevlar and testosterone. We rolled around, no lights, engines idle as we crept our post. Those nights are when we made those streets our home, learning landmarks in the dark. We spent hours slowly learning the back alleys and main roads of our new world.

If it wasn't a slow sunday drive in the shadows, it was pouring out of a moving vehicle to completely overwhelm some drunk gently caress or perfidious partner creeping back, or suddenly hitting your high beam and doing ad hoc vehicle interdictions. We got good, and always hoped for a runner. The call of "Vehicle!" a whaler's call of "spout", and the game was on.
You'd rip a deep breath, and depress the petal, the Crows Nest Gunner on the 50, calling out speed, the TC boat captain screaming the rudder calls.
"Go! Go! GO!"
"He's gonna break Right, Woody!"
"He's hosed if he does!"
"Brakes. BRAKES"
A bellowing screech as the Humvee brakes to hard, so overloaded with kit and candy for our foes, she slides, the front end tipping the shocks.
Typically, I didn't feel the bow raise back up, one foot out the door for the chase.

To be blunt, poo poo owned.

The night in question was early on. We had already stopped and detained a looter in his flat bed, so no chases were happening. We put the big slow pig between our gun trucks and prowled about. In short time, we came across an Iraqi taxi, an 80's vintage Passat with a white body and orange corner panels, that would soon be so ubiquitous we had to look to find them. Inside, we found a very quiet, very concerned looking driver, and three "Military Age Males" - Army speak for any male between the age of birth on one end, dead on the other. Our three friends didn't seem chipper, carried themselves with a violent capability. Immediately we separate, and start to search them. My friend, a dour older man, glared as I got him alone.

A tangent before I finish this episode. With no pride, I can admit that I have beaten multiple people on the draw. One study says it's because my brain looks for where a weapon should be - and any deviation toward that location triggers a response; Another says chronic exposure to trauma creates biological changes, allowing for faster reflexes as a greater ability to read the room; I say it's 75% luck, 25% them being bad at their role. I don't know how or why, but I know I won the race.

Through Pointy Talky & English, I get his hands on the hood. As I start to search him, his hands get to creeping down the hood.
Strike One. I physically return his hands to the start position.
We start again, same thigns happen.
Strike Two. I put his hands back, and try again.
I notice that right hand subtle start sliding back.
Strike Three
I slam his head to the hood, and jam the muzzle of my M4 hard into the base of his skull. In a voice that brokered no bullshit, and a tone that transcends dialect, I made it clear that his next mistake will make me need a shower, and him a face. My left hand snakes his waist, delicate fingers blindly searching until they find the grip of a pistol. I recall thinking, "Well, my night's hosed." I was upset. My evening had been a pleasant Mad Max Larp in the Dark, and this gently caress does this.

Look, I always tried to maintain an ideal of proffessionalism, to not take things personal. I wasn't there because I had a private grievence, I was there to do the same job as the Bad Guys - kill my enemy. I can only recall taking two moments personal - When I heard RPG #5 detonate, lifting my truck from the ground, I remember thinking, "C'mon - there are other people around! rear end in a top hat"; and this night.

My dear pistol packing Habibi realized that maybe he hosed with the wrong Private by the less than gentlemanly way he was cuffed and the lack of ceremony as I planted him into the warm night asphalt.

I was quickly decided to stow these 3 in the confiscated Flat Bed, and convoy the group back to our little home, Delta CP, an old Iraqi Camp in Al Bayaa.

And that's the rub.

In what became a living word problem, a very angry 19 year old needs to help a grown handcuffed man into the back of a flat bed truck. I sure as gently caress wasn't uncuffing him, but he still had to get up that 5 feet. Before anyone could mount the truck to assist, I threw Habibi up and over the tailgate. The BANG-FLUMP of a body hitting steel turned to that droning shore of a man knocked the gently caress out. Before anyone realized what was going on, I tossed Buddy Chucklefuck up and over too, The impact of his friend woke up my dearest.

I wasn't allowed to keep the pistol, a TT-33 Tokarev, a Russian Service Pistol. It was loaded with one ready in the pipe. It has no safety, and the round would have blown through soft armor. Nickel plated with black plastic grips - I'll never forget that pistol

Homedude was ok - a major headache the only real injury.

This was one of the few incidents where I lost my typical measure of control. It's also the moment my personal spectrum of force developed:
1. Ask Nicely
2. Ask Not Nicely
3. Tell
4. Make

That dumb little system ensured that as many people as possible went home. It also treated the people with respect, and allowed them a measure of freedom that we could easily demolish. It's also a moment of reverse pride - I don't like that I did it, but it was his choice.

He hurt my feelings first.

# ? May 27, 2022 04:47

dubzee: Oct 23, 2008

I'm just a dumb poo poo up early on a Saturday morning but this thread is amazing. My grandfather served in the S Pacific during WWII and these are the kind of things I wish he would have shared.

I never pressed him, I just wanted to know what happened. It took a while after he passed to understand why he never talked about it, piecing together the pictures and paperwork.

"It's his coolest story, and we weren't getting it. He thought we were all retarded." will make me giggle for days. Thank you for telling your story.

dubzee fucked around with this message at 10:59 on May 28, 2022

# ? May 28, 2022 10:57

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

M_Gargantua posted:

I love the handwriting. The handwriting does so much more than the text on its own. I don't know exactly what it tickles in my brain that adds something to the telling. I can almost see how the format gives it the right sort of distance from ghoulish mass market post-tour novels.

But even still - Here are the first 5 transcriptions for posterity, but for real anyone reading these words down the line and haven't seen the originals click the button to see the original for the best experience.

If seeing it in font inhibits the writing experience let me know and I'll strip it out and not get in the way.

Dude, this was incredible of you, and I'm touched. It doesn't bother me, and it will probably help some others enjoy it.

dubzee posted:

I'm just a dumb poo poo up early on a Saturday morning but this thread is amazing. My grandfather served in the S Pacific during WWII and these are the kind of things I wish he would have shared.

I never pressed him, I just wanted to know what happened. It took a while after he passed to understand why he never talked about it, piecing together the pictures and paperwork.

"It's his coolest story, and we weren't getting it. He thought we were all retarded." will make me giggle for days. Thank you for telling your story.

This comment was super touching, and makes me so very, very happy.

My wife's Grandfather, like most of our generation, served in WW2. As a Brethren Church dude, he was assigned to England to work on the aircraft. My wife knew that, but nothing else.

She overheard he and I talking, and we were just chatting about planes- which he liked to work on, which he thought was the best, generic work chat. He got real quiet, "It takes a lot of water to get all the blood out of a B-29"

On the drive home, she told me that was the most he had shared with anyone in the family about the war. Everyone thought he just changed spark plugs in England. Even his sons, his wife until she died, no one knew what he had seen. And the old gently caress drops that on me. Lol

Old Boy cause a stir in the family when he was seen walking with different ladies around the retirement community. That whole side of the family are practicing Brethren- kids aren't allowed toys with ghosts or supernatural poo poo, no cursing, very polite, quiet people.

I am not. "Who cares!? He's 93 years old! Let him pimp! drat! I can't keep one woman happy and he's got 3!"

The fact you guys feel closer to loved ones, even just a little bit, means more to me than the praise.

And it sounds stupid, but this has to be a 'community' art project. I get just as much, if not more, from you guys as you get from the excuse for fountain pens that I keep posting. And for me, it has to be about you guys more than what I write. If it's about me, and my own bullshit, then this thread will die a quick, silent death as I give up.

# ? May 29, 2022 03:45

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

Picture related- terrible pic of a terrible pic, but Rippee (Bronze Star for valor, Purple Heart) and some of the gas station kids, including Osama bin Armless. Found on an old Facebook post from Rippee

# ? May 29, 2022 20:37

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

The thread isn't dead, and i haven't forgot. Just had some personal issues arise for a bit. 8+ pages coming tomorrow.

# ? Jun 10, 2022 02:30

A.o.D.: Jan 15, 2006; The Suffering of the Succotash.

bulletsponge13 posted:

Picture related- terrible pic of a terrible pic, but Rippee (Bronze Star for valor, Purple Heart) and some of the gas station kids, including Osama bin Armless. Found on an old Facebook post from Rippee

Is Armless the "rawr Bear!" kid?

# ? Jun 10, 2022 02:46

stealie72: Jan 10, 2007

bulletsponge13 posted:

The thread isn't dead, and i haven't forgot. Just had some personal issues arise for a bit. 8+ pages coming tomorrow.

# ? Jun 10, 2022 02:54

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

A.o.D. posted:

Is Armless the "rawr Bear!" kid?

Absolutely is.

E- I somehow missed the kid behind Rippee, under his arm until this moment exactly.

# ? Jun 10, 2022 03:01

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

Posts, as promised. Expect them to get a little more regular- finally on some meds that are working. Pages are now numbered per episode, different corners just in case I 10% Rule the uploads.

The larger of the two...it was more emotionally draining than usual. Writing also kept getting interrupted, and ended up spread over several days. It was began as a response to my comments on civilians and turned into...well, this.
I really need to rewrite it, but at the moment, it's too raw to read, much less start an edit.

This one is a revisit to an old piece, about the first excitement of the war.

Feedback welcome. As always, you guys are welcome to ask questions or throw prompts at me.

As always, thank you guys. ❤

# ? Jun 11, 2022 03:52

ulmont: Sep 15, 2010; IF I EVER MISS VOTING IN AN ELECTION (EVEN AMERICAN IDOL) ,OR HAVE UNPAID PARKING TICKETS, PLEASE TAKE AWAY MY FRANCHISE

I gotta say, man...I grew up reading Vietnam memoirs, and your stuff is definitely overlapping with those. History definitely rhyming / powers that be learned nothing.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 04:20

Madurai: Jun 26, 2012

It's eerie seeing the War Kid background in someone else, all the books and movies that inevitably led me to signing up: In Harm's Way. Action in the North Atlantic. Guns of Navarone And of course Samuel Eliot Morison's The Two Ocean War, which I'd read from cover to cover at least half a dozen times before I'd left Junior High.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 04:56

SerthVarnee: Mar 13, 2011; It has been ~~two~~ zero days since last incident.; Big Super Slapstick Hunk

Goddamn dude....

Hardest part for me to read was the way you waaaay too accurately described the feeling of being about to throw up. Took me back to that seizure I had where, just as I regained consciousness, the paramedic exclaimed: "Real loving lucky that he didn't throw up and clog his windpipe. That would have been it."

Ever since then, that sensation of being just about to throw up has been short circuited into a primal fear of imminent seizure and death.
The way you described it made that fear rear its ugly head. Bear in mind that I got Aphantasia and can't actually visualize my own thoughts. Your writing once again managed to just plow straight through that mental roadblock.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 05:59

Quackles: Aug 11, 2018; Pixels of Light.

drat.

Y'know, I learned something interesting, albeit from video games.

Everyone thinks of War, Pestilence, Famine, and Death as the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. But in the actual bible, Pestilence isn't there; and instead, the extra horseman is Conquest.

With your talk of the "5th Horseman", I just got reminded.

Don't know where I'm going with that, but it feels relevant, somehow.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 07:21

Pikehead: Dec 3, 2006; Looking for WMDs, PM if you have A+ grade stuff; Fun Shoe

The passage where you're advancing up to the (possibly abandoned, possibly not) APC really brought it home for me.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 10:03

Lead out in cuffs: Sep 18, 2012; "That's right. We've evolved."

"I can see that. Cool mutations."

Was that line about abuse being the "fallout from the decay of the nuclear family" yours? Cause that's some beautiful phrasing.

Oh yeah, also "swarthy" is an interesting word. Tolkien loving loved it, and I don't think I've really read another author who made much use of it. And having only encountered it in Tolkien, when I was younger I kinda figured it meant something like hairy or stocky or dwarf-like. The word sounds thick and heavy on the tongue.

But yeah, it actually just means "dark-skinned" (literally from the germanic for "black"), and it was Tolkien's way of telegraphing who the villian was. ( It was inevitably the black guy. Tolkien was pretty racist.)

You probably know this, and were probably intending to convey that your squad leader was short, black, and ripped. But I thought I'd mention it just in case.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 13:29

ulmont: Sep 15, 2010; IF I EVER MISS VOTING IN AN ELECTION (EVEN AMERICAN IDOL) ,OR HAVE UNPAID PARKING TICKETS, PLEASE TAKE AWAY MY FRANCHISE

Lead out in cuffs posted:

But yeah, it actually just means "dark-skinned" (literally from the germanic for "black"), and it was Tolkien's way of telegraphing who the villian was. ( It was inevitably the black guy. Tolkien was pretty racist.)

Joe Dever used it in his Lone Wolf series of game books in exactly the same way to the point where a �Swarthy Counter� is often a part of a forums play through.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 13:38

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

I always saw it used to describe darker skinned people largely as a physical description of olive skinned/darker complected white guys. poo poo, I've been called swarthy, and I look Semitic as hell. If I'm using it incorrectly, I can change it. Like Conan was described that way.

I never like Tolkien, so never read his poo poo. Failed 6th grade honor English because 'i refuse to read this terrible crap.' Like 9 pages of the emotional situation of grass on the field of battle only to pull a Stephen King- 'there was a battle. Afterwards, they feasted.' I should give him another chance.

As far as I know, the nuclear family line came from a bout of emotional frustration and the song 'The Great Unknown' by Dar Williams.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 13:55

A.o.D.: Jan 15, 2006; The Suffering of the Succotash.

bulletsponge13 posted:

I always saw it used to describe darker skinned people largely as a physical description of olive skinned/darker complected white guys. poo poo, I've been called swarthy, and I look Semitic as hell. If I'm using it incorrectly, I can change it. Like Conan was described that way.

I never like Tolkien, so never read his poo poo. Failed 6th grade honor English because 'i refuse to read this terrible crap.' Like 9 pages of the emotional situation of grass on the field of battle only to pull a Stephen King- 'there was a battle. Afterwards, they feasted.' I should give him another chance.

As far as I know, the nuclear family line came from a bout of emotional frustration and the song 'The Great Unknown' by Dar Williams.

Your understanding is correct. It means darker skinned, but not black, usually. It's often used with bigoted connotations, but not always. Just be careful with it.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 14:12

ulmont: Sep 15, 2010; IF I EVER MISS VOTING IN AN ELECTION (EVEN AMERICAN IDOL) ,OR HAVE UNPAID PARKING TICKETS, PLEASE TAKE AWAY MY FRANCHISE

bulletsponge13 posted:

I always saw it used to describe darker skinned people largely as a physical description of olive skinned/darker complected white guys. poo poo, I've been called swarthy, and I look Semitic as hell. If I'm using it incorrectly, I can change it. Like Conan was described that way.

Swarthy comes from an Old English word for black (swaert, which I assume is cognate with the Dutch zwarte), per wiki. It�s been applied for everyone from Mexican to Middle Eastern to Italian to Irish, in addition to the expected black people, but usually not kindly as with all words for �dark� and all words for �other� people (xref definition 4 at the link: evil, malicious).

https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/swarthy

# ? Jun 11, 2022 14:12

Hannibal Rex: Feb 13, 2010

bulletsponge13 posted:

I never like Tolkien, so never read his poo poo. Failed 6th grade honor English because 'i refuse to read this terrible crap.' Like 9 pages of the emotional situation of grass on the field of battle only to pull a Stephen King- 'there was a battle. Afterwards, they feasted.' I should give him another chance.

Tolkien was a WW1 vet and pretty much his entire circle of pre-war friends died in it. He probably only survived because he caught trench fever and ended up in the hospital rather than continue fighting at the Somme.

A lot of his writing is also about him processing his war experience and trying to find some universal meaning by comparing it to ancient warrior culture and preserved writings and poems about war. If you read it from that perspective, I'm sure you'll find something worthwhile and relateable.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Homecoming_of_Beorhtnoth_Beorhthelm%27s_Son

quote:

In Beowulf we have only a legend of "excess" in a chief. The case of Beorhtnoth is still more pointed even as a story; but it is also drawn from real life by a contemporary author. Here we have Hygelac be�having like young Beowulf: making a "sporting fight" on level terms; but at other people's expense. In his situation he was not a subordinate, but the authority to be obeyed on the spot; and he was responsible for all the men under him, not to throw away their lives except with one object, the defence of the realm from an implacable foe. He says himself that it is his pur�pose to defend the realm of �thelred, the people, and the land (52-3). It was heroic for him and his men to fight, to annihilation if necessary, in the attempt to destroy or hold off the invaders. It was wholly un�fitting that he should treat a desperate battle with this sole real object as a sporting match, to the ruin of his purpose and duty.

Why did Beorhtnoth do this? Owing to a defect of character, no doubt; but a character, we may surmise not only formed by nature, but moulded also by "aristocratic tradition", enshrined in tales and verse of poets, now lost save for echoes. Beorhtnoth was chivalrous rather than strictly heroic. Honour was in itself a motive, and he sought it at the risk of placing his heor�werod, all the men most dear to him, in a truly heroic situation, which they could redeem only by death. Magnificent perhaps, but certainly wrong. Too foolish to be heroic. And the folly Beorhtnoth at any rate could not wholly redeem by death.

This was recognized by the poet of The Battle Maldon, though the lines in which his opinion are ex�pressed are little regarded, or played down. The translation of them given above is (I believe) accurate, in representing the force and implication of his words, though most will be more familiar with Ker's: "then the earl of his overboldness granted ground too much to the hateful people"(3). They are lines in fact of severe criticism, though not incompatible with loyalty, and even love. Songs of praise at Beorhtnoth's funeral may well have been made of him, not unlike the lament of the twelve princes for Beowulf; but they too may have ended on the ominous note struck by the last word of the greater poem: lofgeornost "most desirous of glory".

Hannibal Rex fucked around with this message at 15:09 on Jun 11, 2022

# ? Jun 11, 2022 15:01

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

Hannibal Rex posted:

Tolkien was a WW1 vet and pretty much his entire circle of pre-war friends died in it. He probably only survived because he caught trench fever and ended up in the hospital rather than continue fighting at the Somme.

A lot of his writing is also about him processing his war experience and trying to find some universal meaning by comparing it to ancient warrior culture and preserved writings and poems about war. If you read it from that perspective, I'm sure you'll find something worthwhile and relateable.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Homecoming_of_Beorhtnoth_Beorhthelm%27s_Son

I'll give it a shot with that attitude, but I doubt it will change much. I really disliked Tolkien, which kinda sucks, because I loved fantasy.
I just don't want to read a dozen pages describing an open field, then nothing interesting for 6 pages, followed by him translating a bunch of world building garbage that doesn't progress the story for another 3, and then pick up with no detail towards the parts I find interesting.

I love the world Tolkien built. I'd just rather read about his work than actually read his work.

E- this came across more angry/dickish and dismissive than i intended. I do appreciate the input, and really will give it a chance. Maybe audio book will help.

bulletsponge13 fucked around with this message at 15:46 on Jun 11, 2022

# ? Jun 11, 2022 15:10

Madurai: Jun 26, 2012

bulletsponge13 posted:

I'll give it a shot with that attitude, but I doubt it will change much. I really disliked Tolkien, which kinda sucks, because I loved fantasy.
I just don't want to read a dozen pages describing an open field, then nothing interesting for 6 pages, followed by him translating a bunch of world building garbage that doesn't progress the story for another 3, and then pick up with no detail towards the parts I find interesting.

I love the world Tolkien built. I'd just rather read about his work than actually read his work.

E- this came across more angry/dickish and dismissive than i intended. I do appreciate the input, and really will give it a chance. Maybe audio book will help.

I don't know if audiobook is the way to go there--it'd make it harder to skip the songs.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 18:55

bulletsponge13: Apr 28, 2010

Madurai posted:

I don't know if audiobook is the way to go there--it'd make it harder to skip the songs.

The soundtrack was the best part of The Hobbit movies.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 19:55

SerthVarnee: Mar 13, 2011; It has been ~~two~~ zero days since last incident.; Big Super Slapstick Hunk

Tolkien also survived a series of brutal battles that wiped out most of his unit. He survived because he was part of the designated survivors, the ones who were kept safe to keep a core of experienced regulars around to indoctrinate the fresh reinforcements. The rest of the unit was slaughtered in a day. I Think that happened two or three times during the Somme.

# ? Jun 11, 2022 21:50

Humbug Scoolbus: Apr 25, 2008; The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers, stern and wild ones, and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.; Clapping Larry

Meds and therapy saved my mind. Keep with it man.

# ? Jun 12, 2022 01:14

Adbot: ADBOT LOVES YOU

# ? May 10, 2024 12:49

Fearless: Sep 3, 2003; DRINK MORE MOXIE

SerthVarnee posted:

Tolkien also survived a series of brutal battles that wiped out most of his unit. He survived because he was part of the designated survivors, the ones who were kept safe to keep a core of experienced regulars around to indoctrinate the fresh reinforcements. The rest of the unit was slaughtered in a day. I Think that happened two or three times during the Somme.

It happened quite a bit more than two or three times on the Somme.

# ? Jun 12, 2022 02:35

The Something Awful Forums > Discussion > Internet VFW > Death Wears Duckie Pajamas - bulletsponge accountabilibuddy thread!

«‹›10 »