Generation Kill

I rented the series “Generation Kill” from Netflix and was watching the first CD last night. I read the book back in 2003 or 2004, and while I found it to be an interesting read, it didn’t provoke any serious thought at that point (at least not that I can recall now). However, last night as I brushed my teeth just before going to bed, I found myself reflecting on how the movie version seems to portray the Marines in a more brutal and unattractive light than I recall them being portrayed in the book. While there is an attempt to show the conflicting emotions that some of these men experience as they witness death taking place all around them, the fact that they have been trained to be emotionless killers is apparent, and some of the more ignorant individuals are truly repugnant in their hatred and desire to deal the death blow to the locals (it often seems that they couldn’t care less whether their targets are military or civilian…they just want to off someone).

This all got me thinking about my brother and father, who have both served as Marine officers in war zones, my brother in Iraq and Afghanistan and my father in Vietnam. And I realized that I have a hard time reconciling the father and brother with the killers that I know they were trained to be. If you knew either of these men, you would know them to be thoughtful, intelligent, generous, loyal and kind. Yet…they willingly joined an organization that would train them to kill human beings and then send them off to do so.

I don’t know if either of them ever actually killed anyone. My father dropped ordinance from a fighter plane in Vietnam, so my guess is that he probably did. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped to ask him how he felt about that.

Although I’m becoming more of an advocate for peace versus war as I get older, I realize that we need a military, and that we need men and women to serve in that military who are willing to kill. And I realize that some of them will actually enjoy it. I also know that there are a lot of people like my dad and brother – moral men who, for the sake of their fellow Americans, would be willing to commit immoral acts and then bear the emotional, psychological and possibly physical ramifications for having done so.

I just wish that our government would be more judicious in its waging of war so that moral men aren’t asked to commit immoral acts unless there is absolutely no other recourse.

Note: I'm further on in the series since posting what I did above, and have more thoughts on the subject that I hope to share later.

The Plight of the Polar Bear

My work spouse and I had a fight today. Not a physical fight of course, but an argument (although let me go on record as saying I’d have kicked his ass if it had been the former).

We argued about whether saving the Polar Bears is a noble cause.

I used to be something of an environmentalist, donating to Greenpeace, the World Wildlife Fund, and other organizations who I felt were trying to protect our planet and all the innocent creatures who were at risk from the human race’s destructive tendencies. I was also a member of PETA, a Nader supporter, and a knee-jerk critic for pretty much everything American.

The ensuing years have brought about changes in my perspective, and as I’ve said before on this blog, I now consider myself a libertarian. I no longer give money to aid agencies like CARE, because I’ve read enough to believe that the resources often end up being misappropriated to corrupt regimes, and that when they do reach the intended recipients, they tend to create a cycle of dependency. I stopped supporting PETA because I felt that their tactics were ridiculous and ineffective and would never sway the majority of the population towards their cause. And I stopped trying to save the polar bears because I believe that when it comes down to us or them, the human race as a whole will choose its own survival over that of any other species. And let’s face it…if the world population surges as it is expected to, the resources that will be required to support it will mercilessly obliterate any attempts by well-meaning individuals to protect the habitats of their favorite critters. And furthermore…aren’t we being just a little bit arrogant when we assume that we and all of our destructiveness aren’t subject to Nature’s laws? Is it not reasonable to believe that we will be dealt with accordingly when She deems it’s time to even things up a bit?

So, veering away from what could become an esoteric tirade and getting back to the original reason for my post…can a lost cause be a noble cause?

I understood why my co-worker became upset at my fatalistic attitude, although I don’t think I warranted the label of “crazy” that he applied to me. My seeming lack of compassion sometimes upsets me, too. There are simply too many just causes out there, and I have selfishly turned my efforts to the only cause over which I really have any control, and that is me. I try to live morally, to be a good friend, to be kind, and I make attempts to minimize my impact by not letting the water run when I brush my teeth, by walking to work when the weather is nice, by unplugging appliances when they’re not being used, and stuff like that. Oh…and I’m not a breeder, so my “footprint” is automatically less than that of anyone who has a child (like this work spouse of mine, who has spawned TWO children, although to be fair he and his real wife also adopted a child).

Anyway, I’m linking to the website for his organization, The Endangered Species Coaltion, because perhaps there is someone reading this who really DOES think that we can save the polar bears, and with that I wish you all the luck in the world.

Addiction

They say the first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem.

Tonight I sat in front of the TV, watching Anthony Bourdain in Hong Kong on the Travel Channel, and I thought to myself, "My god, I can't believe I've never been to Hong Kong! I must get there sometime". Then, on the commercial break, I saw an advertisement for New Zealand, set to the tune of "Forever Young" by Alphaville, and I thought to myself, "Oh that's right...I had actually been planning a tentative trip to New Zealand this past January when I decided instead to take my six month sabbatical to Crete! Wow...New Zealand looks beautiful, when am I going to be able to fit THAT in?". And then I felt a sensation that I've experienced before, a squeezing anxiety as I wondered how I will ever be able to visit all the places I want to, and I realized that perhaps I have a problem.

I'm using up a lot of "capital" for my six months in Crete, and sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better to have found a temporary home for my cats and roamed around the world for six months, hit all the spots that I've always yearned to visit, taken the brief adventures that I've yearned to take...the Trans-Mongolian express, a horseback trek across the steppes with yurts for accommodations, a freighter around Africa and into the Indian Ocean, a cruise along the Amazon, etcetera and so on. I felt a brief and totally rational fear that when reality finally strikes and the funds I've saved run out, I may not be able to continue to traipse about and see every place I fancy on this beautiful planet of ours.

I feel something like I imagine a drug addict might feel when faced with the impending loss of funds to purchase more junk, and I'm already scheming about how I might possibly fund future trips. Get three jobs? Cash in the 401K?

And I find it interesting that the person that spurred this whole thought process tonight, Anthony Bourdain, relentless world traveler, is a former junkie himself.