Monday, December 25, 2006

JAMES BROWN IS DEAD


Today as the world celebrates the birth of the Son of God, let us take a moment to mourn the passing of the Godfather of Soul.

James Brown was a giant in the world of funk and soul music; there will never be another like him. He came from humble beginnings. He was born in South Carolina in 1933, at the height of the Great Depression. Abandoned by his parents at the age of four and left to the care of relatives and friends, he spent his youth picking cotton, shining shoes, and dancing for change.

As a teenager, he spent over three years in reform school; where he met Bobby Byrd who would become a life-long friend and set him on his journey to stardom. They formed a gospel group together, but after seeing a performance by Fats Domino and Hank Ballard, they reformed their act into an R&B group called “The Famous Flames” and the rest, as they say, is history.

The self proclaimed “hardest working man in show business” certainly lived up to his moniker. Touring almost continuously for fifty-three years, he developed a reputation for pouring everything into his performances. He amassed a repertoire of over 800 songs, with 94 making Billboard’s top 100. His unique sound influenced not only R&B acts, but artists across the musical spectrum (myself included) from disco to punk. In 1992, he received a life time achievement award at the 34th Grammy Awards.

Of course, there was a darker side to JB’s fame. There were many incidents throughout his career involving drugs, violence and brushes with the law. The most infamous of these occurred in 1988, when he brandished a shotgun in an insurance seminar in Augusta, GA, accusing participants of using his personal restroom. He then led police on a high-speed chase across state lines that finally concluded when police shot out his tires. As it turned out, JB was high on PCP at the time. He was sentenced to six years behind bars, serving 15 months in a South Carolina prison and 10 months in a work release program before being paroled in February 1991. During this time, “Free James Brown” tee shirts sold like hot cakes.

I wish I could compose a proper eulogy for this man, but what can I really say about him? I mean, he’s James F-ing Brown! He is a legend, and the world is a poorer place without him. Fortunately, his music lives on and he will continue to influence and inspire musicians for years to come. He is indeed one of the greats. He will be remembered for posterity as an icon of a uniquely American style of music, and revered by future generations in the same manner as the great composers of the 18th and 19th centuries for his contribution to the musical and cultural landscape.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

A Gun for Christmas (by The Vandals)

Families lock their doors in fear
That criminals might get them
But this Christmas rest assured
That I will have my own protection….

I’ll get a gun for Christmas to protect my other gifts
If burglars touch my property, they won’t leave here without a limp
Packin’ heat on Christmas and I’ll shoot it off on New Year’s Eve
‘Cuz bullets go into outer space when pointed up, I believe

A bullet sends a Christmas message that is clear and loud
It says that I will not take all of this bullshit lying down
I'll get a gun for Christmas to protect my other gifts
I'll only tell you once "Stay the fuck away from my shit"

I will use my new weapon in self-defense and sport
and to keep the carolers off my god damn porch
and preventing Yuletide homicide this year…

I won't be a victim this year thanks to Santa Claus
Sleeping with no fear of danger and it's all because
I'll get a gun for Christmas to protect my other gifts
I'll only tell you once "Stay the fuck away from my shit"
(Pow! Pow! Pow!)

Christmas needs security; security is weapons.
Vigilante action teaching criminals their lessons
It's the greatest gift we have taking out our rivals
Thank you Santa, thank you God
for guaranteeing my survival!

A bullet sends a Christmas message that is clear and loud
It says that I will not take all of this bullshit lying down
I'll get a gun for Christmas to protect my other gifts
I'll only tell you once "Stay the fuck away from my shit"

I won't be a victim this year thanks to Santa Claus
Sleeping with no fear of danger, and it's all because
I'll get a gun for Christmas to protect my other gifts
I'll only tell you once "Stay the fuck away from my crap
or I'll bust a cap in your ass!!!"

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

ANCOC

Hey everybody! I’m off to Ft. Benning, GA to attend the Advanced Non-Commissioned Officer Course. I’ll be gone for about eight weeks… Just wanted to wish everyone a happy Halloween! - JON

Friday, September 29, 2006

Masterblaster!






Today I was awarded the Master Parachutist Badge. Master wings are awarded to jumpmaster qualified soldiers who successfully complete sixty-five military jumps (there are a few other pre-requisites, but they aren’t really important). They are a mark of distinction. They represent the highest level of skill that one can reach as a paratrooper.

I decided to have my wings awarded in a small ceremony in front of my company. By tradition, master wings are to be presented to a jumpmaster by someone who already holds a master rating. Since there is no one in my company who has attained this level, I invited my old mentor; Sergeant Major (Retired) James Popp to do the honors. Jim Popp was my squad leader when I was a private. Later, he was one of my instructors in Jungle Warfare School. After that, he was my Platoon Sergeant when I first became an NCO. He was the one who pinned on my first set of sergeant stripes. During my first deployment to Iraq, he was my Battalion Operations Sergeant Major. You could say he raised me as a soldier. He is like a second father to me… an abusive, foul mouthed, short tempered father who used to beat me, but a father none the less.

The First Sergeant called the company to attention and gave me the command to post myself. I stood in front of the company at a rigid position of attention. The Company Executive Officer read the award citation and Sergeant Major Popp strode from the back of the formation to face me. As he stripped my senior wings from my chest and pinned my master wings, he whispered to me in the familiar icy low growl that used to (and frankly still does) strike fear into my heart: “Sergeant Gammon, do you have any idea how fucking proud I am of you… watching you grow up? I remember when you were just a snot-nosed private; looking like a chihuahua trying to shit a peach pit… now look at you!” He punctuated his remark with a hard closed-fisted punch; driving the tines of the wings into my flesh. The air was forcibly driven from my lungs and I was nearly knocked off balance. I stood tall in front of my peers and my men… grinning from ear to ear. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.

To the untrained eye, I might appear to be fairly highly decorated already. My uniform bristles with awards, badges, commendations and all sorts of eye candy. In reality though, I consider most of these to be meaningless. It is mostly standard Army “eye-wash” that I got for just showing up for work. This award is different to me though. I had to EARN this one. I wish that the Army would figure out that handing out fancy uniforms and badges wholesale does nothing to instill pride in a soldier. Only recognition for real accomplishments can do that.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

The Day The World Changed


AP Photo


It’s difficult to believe that it has been five years since the everyhing changed. It was one of those events that defined an era… like the Kennedy assassination or the moon landing; everyone remembers where they were when they heard the news.

The morning of September 11th 2001 I was visiting my mother in Florida. I got out of bed at about five minutes before nine o’clock and turned on the television in the living room. I was puzzled initially to see a shot of the World Trade Center with smoke billowing from one of the towers. Shortly, the anchor explained that a passenger jet had crashed into the buildings for reasons unknown. The thought of terrorism was present in the back of my mind, but quite honestly it was not my strongest initial hypothesis. Instead I immediately thought of the B-25 bomber that had accidentally struck the Empire State Building in heavy fog back in 1945. I figured that an accident of that type was not without precedent, so it was a fair assumption that something similar had happened in this case. I continued to study the screen and suddenly glimpsed a second aircraft coming into view. “See?” I thought to myself, “Look how close the flight pattern brings the air traffic… OH MY GOD!!!” The second plane struck like a missile; engulfing its target in an instantaneous ball of fire. This was no accident. I was dumbstruck.

A minute or two later my mother emerged from her bedroom still in her pajamas and robe. “Good morning son!” She sang warmly.

“I don’t know how good it is,” I numbly answered, “I think we’re at war.”…

I couldn’t have known just how right I was. A year later, I found myself in Afghanistan, kicking in farmhouse doors. Most Afghanis don’t own televisions or even radios; so most of what they know of the outside world comes from word of mouth. Much of that word of mouth came from the Taliban. As a result, many Afghanis had no idea what had happened on that fateful day in 2001 (hell, some of them actually believed that we were the Russians, returning to try to regain control of the country!). Several times a local elder would indignantly demand to know why we were invading his home and disrupting the tranquility of his village. I carried (and still do) a picture of the burning World Trade Center in my note book. I would show him the picture and tell him bluntly: “The Arabs (Al Qieda) did this; we are here to kill them.” Invariably, their reaction was the same: They would immediately cease being resentful and give a look of total comprehension. Most Afghanis have no understanding of global politics. The idea of righteous vendetta however, is a perfectly natural concept for them.

Five years on from the attack, we seem to have settled back in to some semblance of normalcy again... but it is the “new normal”. We are a nation at war. I’ve been sent into combat zones three times since then. As I write this, I am preparing to go yet again. As a society, we grapple with issues that have taken on new significance. Battle lines have been drawn not just in some distant desert, but in the hearts of the American people. We struggle to strike a balance between liberty and security. We find ourselves immersed in a baffling war in Iraq. If you had told me on September 10, 2001 just how profoundly different the world was about to become, I would have never believed you.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

I'm still here.

My apologies to my loyal readers (yeah right) that I have not made any entries recently. It seems that I have been far too busy this summer to indulge myself with this rather frivolous hobby. This is not to say that I no longer hold any hold any desire to opine about a whole host of issues and events; it simply means that I haven’t had the time to collect my thoughts and put them in writing. Being a bit of a perfectionist, I don’t really like posting an entry unless I have taken the time explore a subject thoughtfully and edit it properly. It seems that I just haven’t had time to do that lately.

Although I make no guarantees that this situation will improve anytime soon, I sincerely hope that it does. I have a bunch of entries bouncing around in my noggin just waiting for me to take the time to give them form. ‘Til then, please be patient.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Rocket's red glare...

Space vehicle launches today: U.S. 1, North Korea 0. Leave it to one of the most back-assward countries on the planet to make our failed space program look good.

Good ol’ North Korea. Boy, I could go on forever about those douche-bags. Perhaps one day when I have enough time to collect my thoughts I might publish a post or three devoted to just how fucked up these guys are. For now, I’ll restrict myself to the discussion of their pathetic excuse for a missile program.

Of the several missiles that were launched today, the Taepodong-2 is North Korea’s most advanced. To the best of my knowledge, the Taepodong-2 is little more than a SCUD with two booster stages attached to it in an attempt to convert it from a Theater Ballistic Missile to an ICBM or Intercontinental Ballistic Missile. In order for it to function as such, it must be capable of delivering its payload to sustained sub orbital altitudes (that is to say, into space) making it technically a space vehicle… albeit a rather primitive one.

The technology employed is very rudimentary by western standards. The core vehicle, the SCUD, is an early ‘50’s era Soviet design which in turn was merely a improvement of the old German V2 designed by Dr. Werner Von Braun during World War II. Apparently, the North Koreans are have a difficult time overcoming technical issues that were solved in both the United States and the Soviet Union nearly fifty years ago. The whole situation would be laughable if they weren’t also in possession of as many as ten functional thermonuclear weapons. This means that if they ever can make this contraption work, they will have the theoretical capability of nuking targets within the continental United States.

They just might be dumb enough to do it. Don’t underestimate just how delusional these people are. The isolated and thoroughly brainwashed North Korean people have a view of the world that most of us would find amusing if they weren’t so damned well armed. For example, an acquaintance of mine traveled to Pyongyang several years ago. While there, he was given a tour of their national museum which featured an elaborate display commemorating the first men to walk on the moon. Yes, the people of North Korea are told with a straight face by their government that North Korean astronauts (or cosmonauts or whatever… it doesn’t matter since they don’t even have a space program) were the first to ever set foot on the Lunar surface… conveyed there by a vehicle that looked uncannily like the Eagle lander of the Apollo program (which we all know was an elaborate hoax and never actually made it to the moon, but rather was filmed on a sound stage in Pasadena).

By contrast, our rocket worked. I wouldn’t get too exited though; we are still far from where we should be in our space program. Although the launch of the shuttle Discovery (STS121) was successful today, it is plainly apparent that this technology is no longer viable as a space launch platform. The shuttle program was launched in the 1970’s as a successor to the hugely successful Apollo program (also designed by Von Braun). At the time it was thought that a reusable orbiter system would be a much more versatile and cost effective alternative to the disposable (single flight) spacecraft then in use. While a good idea in theory, it has been less than perfect in practice. While the shuttle is technically reusable, most of its systems must be completely overhauled between missions, which equates to a cost of about $55 million per launch. It has never been as reliable as it was intended to be (it was supposed to average twelve flights a year!) and is at least a dozen years past its life expectancy with it’s immediate replacement still on the drawing board.

Another major drawback is the overly complex arrangement of the vehicle. The use of intricate (and very thirsty) turbo pump fed liquid hydrogen engines in conjunction with a pair non throttled solid fueled booster rockets is far too complicated a system for reliable regular use. Since the destruction of the Columbia in 2003, NASA has been in a panic about the insulating foam on the external fuel tank. Apparently, it has a tendency to break off and damage the heat shields of the orbiter, rendering it vulnerable upon re-entry. Well, DUH! The original designers new about this problem thirty years ago! Those of you old enough to recall the maiden flight of Columbia in 1981 may remember that fuel tank was white, not red. This was because it was designed with a protective coating to prevent just the kind of disaster that befell the very same ship nearly twenty-two years later. Then some bean counters decided that by eliminating this feature, payload weight could be increased while turnaround time an expense could be mitigated. Great idea on paper…

It is obvious to me that NASA has totally lost its way. The career government bureaucrats currently running the show have choked the life out of an organization which used to represent the pioneering spirit of mankind. We can and must do better.

When the Shuttle was designed there were no cell phones or personal computers. No DVD or MP3 players. Hell, cable TV and VCR’s were unheard of. Back then, the space program was synonymous with cutting edge technology. Nowadays, the average American carries much more impressive devices in their pockets.

If I may wax political (and I may, since it’s my fucking blog) it’s high time the government got the hell out of the space business. It is far too inefficient to run it effectively. I don’t say this lightly; I’ve been working for the federal government my entire adult life. Too many decision makers amongst the career bureaucrats are nothing more than incompetent boobs who have gotten to positions of power simply because it is nearly impossible to fire them.

We have already seen that private industry when given the proper incentives, can accomplish more with much less. After all, the team from Scaled Composites built a ship and put into space for less than it would have cost NASA to conduct a study about it. I think it’s time we seriously considered putting people like them on point for awhile.

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