With A Whimper...

and with a plaintive mewling and a chill rain the old year ended; the new midnighted much the same.

dawn, that inexorable trollop, brought to grey light the drizzle (snoop dogg's favourite weather) that had persisted from the previous day, and yet, somehow, it all seemed to portend a better coming year than the past has been (usna tour of duty very much excepted). huzzah!

my fellow internal draftees and i reported this morning to nmps norfolk. now fitted for my army combat uniforms (acu), i am slowly generating a less obfuscated vision of my role in operation iraqi freedom (oif). although i still have no idea where i will ultimately be stationed in-country, it seems certain that i will serve as an blah blah blah attached either to an army battalion or brigade. i, as yet, have very little notion of what this means and/or entails. the lovely miss kunzelman's uncle has defined my position as that of an "egghead"; i suppose i shouldn't be surprised. the general consensus is that i will be involved in operations to counter blah blah blah. in fact, the success of the navy's endeavors in this vein so far have led to a dramatic reduction in blah blah blah, and have apparently forced a very evident escalation of blah blah blah production (due to the lack of success with the other ones). as an aside, we were briefed that shower shoes (flip-flops or sandals) are undersireable, and that boat shoes (keds) are preferred... so you can run from mortars if they get launched into the forward operating base (fob) while you're on your way to the shower... no kidding. sweet.

all sarcasm aside, one would be hard-pressed to ask for a better role than that of guardian to the lives of the heroes that routinely traverse deserts of the shadow of death.

the most recent word to which i am privy is that the involuntary, er, i mean individual augmentee (ia), the role i am fulfilling, shall become commonplace in today's armed services, most especially the navy and the air force. as we stretch our forces ever more thinly across this afflicted globe, like too little butter spread over too much bread, those not in traditional combat roles will be called upon ever more increasingly to augment our fellow comrades-in-arms, just behind the front lines. the submariner becomes a land warfare specialist...

my personal take is becoming less conflicted. i am beginning to believe that this tour is perhaps the best possible thing that could have occurred at this juncture in my life. i intend to return from this adventure emotionally, physically, and spiritually cleansed (in that order) from the unprecedented misery of 2006. it will be like a pilgramage, or a hermitage, only without the holy site, or the isolation. when i return, i will turn 28 (again...) in Dublin or Galway in June of 2008; everybody is invited (with a single obvious exception)!

the following has little meaning save to those 'in the know':
dj jazzy spank wants to give a massive shout-out to mixmaster fuzz, the senator, the bull, and the artist formerly known as pollywog. your assistance, but more importantly your company, was much appreciated. "no man is a failure who has friends..." ('tis (or 'twas) the season, after all)
the dj's altered beast, the brigade sergeant boyfriend, desires an equally substantive shout-out to scoo-dizzle "the puppy" dawg. it's been what? eight years since we did norfolk together? your hospitality is matched only by the goodness of your heart.
finally, a shout-/hug-out to the soule sister... you're the best older youngest brother-sister a fellow could have; you must take after me! ha!

keeping those bangs to a minimum... the b-man