Been thinking a lot lately, you know? Every four years these crazy Hollywood liberals come off like their opinion is the only one that matters.
If Bush wins, I’m off to Canada they say. If Bush wins again, I’m off to Canada they say. Well fuck that bleeding heart anti-American bullshit. If McCain Palin win in 2008, I’m not moving to Canada, I’m reenlisting. Yup. You heard right folks, re-en-fuck-ing-listing. Folks keep bashing Palin’s lack of experience when she’s the commander in chief of the largest state of the union. Folks keep saying McCain’s no different than Bush when he’s got bonafied maverick status.
So I’ve been thinking a lot lately, you know? About reenlisting. God. Country. Corps. The country is about to elect a deranged Muslim socialist with no plan but a bad one to be commander in chief. And what can I do? I figure I’ll straighten up, and let the country know they’ll have at least one more good Marine if they can put McCain in office.
No stop loss, no reenlistment bonus, and no more money for college. Just sign me up and send me over to the middle-fucking-east so I don’t get blamed for contributing to the white flag of surrender. Just send me over so I can do my American duty: spread democracy, stop terror, pick up dead bodies, hopefully kill something, and come home a bonafied maverick myself.
You see, I’ve been real guilty the last few years for not going to Iraq. Did every damn thing the Marine Corps told me to do and how do I get repaid? They split my fucking unit up and I get to stay stateside. This is my chance. When I didn’t go I was pissed to say the least. The last few months in particular. I’ve been doing this anti-war shit. Can you believe that? An anti-war Marine? Get the fuck out. Must be me just acting out, because I miss that shit. Like I’m some fucking adolescent going against the grain…man I gotta get back in step. I miss that shit. The rhetoric, the rush, the fucked up romanticizing of warfare. Thoughts of warring with some less sophisticated enemy that rides around on camels and blows shit up in the name of god. God I miss it.
I miss racial epithets: Arab, hadji, towel head, raghead.
I miss misogyny, homophobia and patriarchy. Pussies are for fucking and mouths are for sucking. I’m getting laid like it’s a fucking game.
I miss anthrax shots and funeral duty. Training in the morgue and getting drunk before bed.
I miss PFT’s and platoon rivalries. I miss that shit.
And it hit me today, like a brick fucking wall. That I miss it. That I’ve been wrong – I gotta get back in. And if McCain Palin win, I’m reenlisting. I’ve already talked to a prior service recruiter. I have 2 MOS’s and I picked up Sgt. right before I got out-I didn’t even know because I was IRR. My MOS is supply and mortuary affairs. I got it made. Two things the marines will always need. Someone to send shit to the grunts that they’ll probably get late – and someone to pick up the dead fucking remains from the supply lacking grunts, fried helo pilots, BBQ’d tankers, and the occasional Iraqi civilian. If McCain Palin win, I got-it-fuck-ing-made dude. In like Flynn. 2 MOS’s. E-5. Motivated. Dedicated. Motivated. Dedicated.
Back to the rhetoric, back to the rush.
Back to romantic thoughts of fighting in some god forsaken land.
Back to racial epithets. Krout, gook, towel head, hadji.
Back to inoculation, burials, training, and drinking, and doing it all over again.
I miss that shit. But not for long America. On 4 November 2008 when McCain and Palin win I’m headed straight over to the office to sign back up. Gunny already knows, and he’s got my shit waiting.
Because I want a real commander in chief. Somebody that served and got places because of his father and grandfather and his name. I want a real commander in chief. Somebody that saw war, looked it right in the face, it said “fuck you” and he still wants more for generations to come. I want a real commander in chief. Someone so hardcore that when other POW’s were left in Hanoi and the families wanted the truth he dismissed them as personal attacks, pushed wheel chaired women to tears, screamed about his undying patriotism, courage, and stormed out of the congressional hearing. I want a real commander in chief. Someone whose wife waited for him while he was in a POW camp and when he got back said pussies are for fucking and mouths are for sucking. I’m getting mine and I’m getting paid to do it with a young piece of ass.
And I want a real VP. A bad ass VP. Someone so American, if she don’t like it, it’s un-American. I want a real VP. Someone who has the balls to stand up to bullshit media asking bullshit questions like she should know the answer. I want a real VP. Someone that’s gonna bring it until the U.S. wins the illegal occupation of a country we’ve been in for decades. I want a real VP. Someone to rally the troops and stand up to evil. I want a real VP. Someone that has the courage to be cited for unethical behavior by her state and then blatantly ignore the findings. I want a real VP. Someone that knows the place of a woman and symbolically serves as the national housewife while justifying sexism as purely Americana. I want a real VP. Some that uses her son going to fight in an illegal war as an election tool which only does more to excite the right. I want a real VP. Someone that knows community organizing 20 years ago is a way to invert race and class into the minds of the right so she uses that as a ploy to excite her base. Someone that 20 years ago community organizing would have been out of the picture because she was doing real shit: competing for beauty queen.
I want a real VP. A real commander in chief. A team of mavericks so dead set on succumbing to the right wing fanatical white supremacists they are willing to slay American boys and girls and say it is GODS work.
I want to reenlist. But it’s got to be right. It’s got to be McCain Palin in ’08. It has got to be RIGHT America. And nothing less. What can I do? Figure I’ll straighten up, and let the country know they’ll have at least one more good Marine if they can put McCain and Palin in office. But it’s got to be RIGHT, can’t have nothing left of center.
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