Shink
02-28-2008, 03:05 PM
Hey folks. Randy, aka Revolution9, and I are going to be putting together a book. How long it will take is not something I could even come close to answering, but we're laying down some preliminary ideas and some stuff to go into the early section of our book. I just wanted to drop in a section I'm starting to formulate and see what you all think.
My unplugging from the Matrix (of sorts) came over a period of a few years. I had been in my school days ahead of the curve, following world events and the news as a high school kid in smalltown Iowa. I remember the drone of Tom Brokaw from NBC Nightly News my parents watched daily without fail. I remember coverage of the Oklahoma City Bombings, the happenings in Waco, Texas, the official version of events of what happened on September 11, 2001. No matter how grave circumstances might be as covered in the news, Tom Brokaw was there to lull you to back to semi-consciousness. What became widely known as 9/11, however, just didn’t add up. Conveniently unmolested passports of easy-to-blame foreigners miraculously surviving the blaze in the struck titan towers, JP-8 jet fuel (which I had later encounters with) not burning at steel’s melting point, calm ‘eyewitnesses’ on Fox News claiming the WTC buildings coming down due to some seemingly obvious structural collapse despite many reports of secondary explosives going off in the buildings.
That stuff didn’t leave my mind even as a teenager who was supposed to be off flirting and watching football instead of that darn thing, thinking. It was not long and I began researching more deeply the involvements of key figures in the world, the way the world worked, and institutions, groups, and agencies networked together for some congruous purpose. Having some, but not enough, research under my belt, I entered the United States Army with a longtime friend.
When I enlisted in the Army, I took the required ASVAB(Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) test. The test is designed to test you in several fields of study such as reading comprehension, mathematics, and mechanical knowledge. I recall feeling somewhat worried about the difficulty level beforehand, but it turned out to be a breeze. I got 96 out of 99 as my overall score. Recruiters seemed wowed and informed me that I could do any job I wanted in the Army. I shrugged and selected “infantry.” I wanted to do the real thing. I was going to be one of the guys hopping out of a helicopter with an assault rifle ready to get the mission done. Silly me. I got what I asked for, good and hard.
Basic training was 13 weeks total for infantry enlistees. As such a fierce freethinker, it was very difficult to stomach the kung fu steel grip power structure and brainwashing techniques that permeated the ordeal. Gone were any vestiges of self-responsibility. Instead, groupthink and extreme collectivism were enforced at threat of humiliation, misery, food and sleep deprivation. If any one person fucked up, everyone fucked up.
One time my bunkmate, Kramer(his first name is forgotten or was never learned--you were your last name to your companions and a pile of shit to drill sergeants), decided to get a brownie in the chow hall despite my warnings against it. He smiled and sidestepped along, heel to heel, but a watchful drill sergeant saw him. Once Kramer sat to eat, the drill sergeant stood with arms folded, encouraging Kramer to enjoy his brownie in front of the platoon. Minutes later in the barracks, we were standing at attention 2 feet in front of our bunks with our toes going no further than the taped rectangular line. Inside that line was the repeatedly waxed and buffed “Kill Zone,” which contained not only the majority of the space in the room, but often a pacing and enraged drill sergeant screaming out untold hours of painful exercises (both physical and exercises in stupidity) for us to unquestioningly perform. This particularly wonderful day we were instructed to grab our canteens, fill them up within an extremely small amount of time, approximately forty people to five sinks, three functioning. We then rushed back and toed the line. The drill sergeant then pretended to make light of Kramer eating a brownie. When some recruits grinned, he went into his bipolar rage, railing against the audacity of those among us who were ‘trying to be an individual.’
We then were ordered to drink the full canteen and hold it upside down overhead to prove we had done the deed without cheating or dumping any. Once satisfied, he had everyone rush and come back and gulp down another full canteen of water. He said he was going to get that brownie back, as it was apparently of utmost national security concern that a Private Kramer decided to gorge himself on chocolaty goodness. Seconds later, Fourth Platoon was doing every exercise in the book, with a tendency to focus on anything that requires the stomach to bounce and tumble rapidly. As soon as the first guy puked, I began laughing, as did some others. Speed intensified. The cadence went from “unn…too…three!” to “un-oo-ee-un-oo-ee.” The first pained puker created a chain reaction. Geysers of watered-down supper erupted at random from the faces of recruits. I was content to do my exercises and laugh hysterically at the outcome. I never got close to puking, but the sixteen guys that did must have really learned a lesson that day. That includes Kramer, who made a valiant nauseated sprint in the latrine to hurl.
My experiences in the organization and participation in the occupation of Iraq led me to look more deeply into the intentions of the policy-makers, the think tanks, the financiers of warfare. I became embroiled in this research and many things came into focus on one major theme: there are people who have the means and motive to destroy you, me, the past, present, and future.
I found myself a suddenly self-aware libertarian conspiracy researcher, prepared to take these forces head-on. Fortunately, many before me have been keeping the struggle for freedom and peace alive during even the darkest of times and under the worst circumstances. It is for people like these and for the well-being of my family and yours that I fight by spreading the truth, warnings, and messages of hope.
Please note that I will continue to expand upon my experiences in the Army and fighting in Iraq, but this is a free sample I just wanted to share. We'll see if Randy will touch your hearts with some of his early work, too.
My unplugging from the Matrix (of sorts) came over a period of a few years. I had been in my school days ahead of the curve, following world events and the news as a high school kid in smalltown Iowa. I remember the drone of Tom Brokaw from NBC Nightly News my parents watched daily without fail. I remember coverage of the Oklahoma City Bombings, the happenings in Waco, Texas, the official version of events of what happened on September 11, 2001. No matter how grave circumstances might be as covered in the news, Tom Brokaw was there to lull you to back to semi-consciousness. What became widely known as 9/11, however, just didn’t add up. Conveniently unmolested passports of easy-to-blame foreigners miraculously surviving the blaze in the struck titan towers, JP-8 jet fuel (which I had later encounters with) not burning at steel’s melting point, calm ‘eyewitnesses’ on Fox News claiming the WTC buildings coming down due to some seemingly obvious structural collapse despite many reports of secondary explosives going off in the buildings.
That stuff didn’t leave my mind even as a teenager who was supposed to be off flirting and watching football instead of that darn thing, thinking. It was not long and I began researching more deeply the involvements of key figures in the world, the way the world worked, and institutions, groups, and agencies networked together for some congruous purpose. Having some, but not enough, research under my belt, I entered the United States Army with a longtime friend.
When I enlisted in the Army, I took the required ASVAB(Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) test. The test is designed to test you in several fields of study such as reading comprehension, mathematics, and mechanical knowledge. I recall feeling somewhat worried about the difficulty level beforehand, but it turned out to be a breeze. I got 96 out of 99 as my overall score. Recruiters seemed wowed and informed me that I could do any job I wanted in the Army. I shrugged and selected “infantry.” I wanted to do the real thing. I was going to be one of the guys hopping out of a helicopter with an assault rifle ready to get the mission done. Silly me. I got what I asked for, good and hard.
Basic training was 13 weeks total for infantry enlistees. As such a fierce freethinker, it was very difficult to stomach the kung fu steel grip power structure and brainwashing techniques that permeated the ordeal. Gone were any vestiges of self-responsibility. Instead, groupthink and extreme collectivism were enforced at threat of humiliation, misery, food and sleep deprivation. If any one person fucked up, everyone fucked up.
One time my bunkmate, Kramer(his first name is forgotten or was never learned--you were your last name to your companions and a pile of shit to drill sergeants), decided to get a brownie in the chow hall despite my warnings against it. He smiled and sidestepped along, heel to heel, but a watchful drill sergeant saw him. Once Kramer sat to eat, the drill sergeant stood with arms folded, encouraging Kramer to enjoy his brownie in front of the platoon. Minutes later in the barracks, we were standing at attention 2 feet in front of our bunks with our toes going no further than the taped rectangular line. Inside that line was the repeatedly waxed and buffed “Kill Zone,” which contained not only the majority of the space in the room, but often a pacing and enraged drill sergeant screaming out untold hours of painful exercises (both physical and exercises in stupidity) for us to unquestioningly perform. This particularly wonderful day we were instructed to grab our canteens, fill them up within an extremely small amount of time, approximately forty people to five sinks, three functioning. We then rushed back and toed the line. The drill sergeant then pretended to make light of Kramer eating a brownie. When some recruits grinned, he went into his bipolar rage, railing against the audacity of those among us who were ‘trying to be an individual.’
We then were ordered to drink the full canteen and hold it upside down overhead to prove we had done the deed without cheating or dumping any. Once satisfied, he had everyone rush and come back and gulp down another full canteen of water. He said he was going to get that brownie back, as it was apparently of utmost national security concern that a Private Kramer decided to gorge himself on chocolaty goodness. Seconds later, Fourth Platoon was doing every exercise in the book, with a tendency to focus on anything that requires the stomach to bounce and tumble rapidly. As soon as the first guy puked, I began laughing, as did some others. Speed intensified. The cadence went from “unn…too…three!” to “un-oo-ee-un-oo-ee.” The first pained puker created a chain reaction. Geysers of watered-down supper erupted at random from the faces of recruits. I was content to do my exercises and laugh hysterically at the outcome. I never got close to puking, but the sixteen guys that did must have really learned a lesson that day. That includes Kramer, who made a valiant nauseated sprint in the latrine to hurl.
My experiences in the organization and participation in the occupation of Iraq led me to look more deeply into the intentions of the policy-makers, the think tanks, the financiers of warfare. I became embroiled in this research and many things came into focus on one major theme: there are people who have the means and motive to destroy you, me, the past, present, and future.
I found myself a suddenly self-aware libertarian conspiracy researcher, prepared to take these forces head-on. Fortunately, many before me have been keeping the struggle for freedom and peace alive during even the darkest of times and under the worst circumstances. It is for people like these and for the well-being of my family and yours that I fight by spreading the truth, warnings, and messages of hope.
Please note that I will continue to expand upon my experiences in the Army and fighting in Iraq, but this is a free sample I just wanted to share. We'll see if Randy will touch your hearts with some of his early work, too.