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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/1SNSxjW:
magickedteacup replied to your post:in the last 20 minutes of work I encountered an…
not even gonna lie, sometimes I wonder if Trump etc. is just the inevitable sum of the national karma of this country; the US has had some super shady business and now the ugly can’t hide in the shade it must come out into the light etc. etc.
*sobs forever*
I mean
but
okay so my dad fought in Vietnam and he was there a year (super early in the war, nobody knew what it was really about and everyone* was sure there was some reason for it all) [*no. not everyone. but the people who believe in shit were sure, and God, I come from a long line of people who believe in shit.] and he was super into Doing His Duty and doing The Right Thing and come time he was going to re-up for a second year even after all the shit he’d seen and done (including his unit being Definitely In Laos and he was like uh you guys know I’m real super good at maps right, why are we in a country we’re not at war with, and they were like SHHH just retrieve that helicopter crew’s remains and definitely don’t ask what THEY were doing there– whatever it was, all that was left of them was dog tags and the metal inserts in their bootsoles, but Dad put them into baggies like he was told) – and his unit commander was like oh good, you’re my best officer, I’m definitely putting you in charge of paperwork because that is the #1 best priority in wartime. And dad was like… bzuh but I have such a good track record at keeping literally my entire unit alive, we have had actually zero casualties the whole time I’ve been platoon lieutenant, I’ve been so super good we’ve succeeded at every mission and it’s been so good, I trust my people and they trust me and we all know our shit and shouldn’t I stay with them and keep doing that? and the commander was like pshhh no we don’t care, they’re draftees, you think we give a fuck? no, come do this paperwork. I gotta look good for the review board later, whatever happens here.
And Dad was like, no, and came home instead of re-upping, and a month later half his unit was killed by friendly fire and the other half developed alcoholism. And he goes to unit reunions now, and people he has no memory of are like LT YOU SAVED MY LIFE and he is like I have no idea who you are, but he grew his 1968 moustache back because more of them recognized him that way. (And he copied over all his maps, which he’d saved, and was like, Guys, we were in Laos, and they were like no shit we were? What the fuck?)
And in late 2001 I cried my eyes out and wrote Livejournal posts and said please, please, I will support whatever war is just and will keep terrible things like this from happening again, just– if you’re doing this in my name, if you’re sending my family members to fight in this, please, be sure
and they weren’t, they were fucking lying
and it’s a joke now but they were fucking lying
my sister sent friends home in fucking Ziploc sandwich bags and they were fucking lying the whole time
and now literally everyone hates us for really fucking good reasons.
There are no words for how bitter it tastes, and what we’ve learned is– what? What? What.
Mostly we’ve just gotten real good at angry-crying. BRB practicing now!
magickedteacup replied to your post:in the last 20 minutes of work I encountered an…
not even gonna lie, sometimes I wonder if Trump etc. is just the inevitable sum of the national karma of this country; the US has had some super shady business and now the ugly can’t hide in the shade it must come out into the light etc. etc.
*sobs forever*
I mean
but
okay so my dad fought in Vietnam and he was there a year (super early in the war, nobody knew what it was really about and everyone* was sure there was some reason for it all) [*no. not everyone. but the people who believe in shit were sure, and God, I come from a long line of people who believe in shit.] and he was super into Doing His Duty and doing The Right Thing and come time he was going to re-up for a second year even after all the shit he’d seen and done (including his unit being Definitely In Laos and he was like uh you guys know I’m real super good at maps right, why are we in a country we’re not at war with, and they were like SHHH just retrieve that helicopter crew’s remains and definitely don’t ask what THEY were doing there– whatever it was, all that was left of them was dog tags and the metal inserts in their bootsoles, but Dad put them into baggies like he was told) – and his unit commander was like oh good, you’re my best officer, I’m definitely putting you in charge of paperwork because that is the #1 best priority in wartime. And dad was like… bzuh but I have such a good track record at keeping literally my entire unit alive, we have had actually zero casualties the whole time I’ve been platoon lieutenant, I’ve been so super good we’ve succeeded at every mission and it’s been so good, I trust my people and they trust me and we all know our shit and shouldn’t I stay with them and keep doing that? and the commander was like pshhh no we don’t care, they’re draftees, you think we give a fuck? no, come do this paperwork. I gotta look good for the review board later, whatever happens here.
And Dad was like, no, and came home instead of re-upping, and a month later half his unit was killed by friendly fire and the other half developed alcoholism. And he goes to unit reunions now, and people he has no memory of are like LT YOU SAVED MY LIFE and he is like I have no idea who you are, but he grew his 1968 moustache back because more of them recognized him that way. (And he copied over all his maps, which he’d saved, and was like, Guys, we were in Laos, and they were like no shit we were? What the fuck?)
And in late 2001 I cried my eyes out and wrote Livejournal posts and said please, please, I will support whatever war is just and will keep terrible things like this from happening again, just– if you’re doing this in my name, if you’re sending my family members to fight in this, please, be sure
and they weren’t, they were fucking lying
and it’s a joke now but they were fucking lying
my sister sent friends home in fucking Ziploc sandwich bags and they were fucking lying the whole time
and now literally everyone hates us for really fucking good reasons.
There are no words for how bitter it tastes, and what we’ve learned is– what? What? What.
Mostly we’ve just gotten real good at angry-crying. BRB practicing now!
