And Another Thing...

So here's something new. I found a little gadget that will let me make little mini blog entries from my iGoogle home page!

Wow. I can't believe I just said that. Has the world become so techno-centric that I am now excited about a webpage gadget? This will be the third method I've used to post to this blog, and I haven't even tried the e-mail posting feature!

So I guess I'm just easily distracted by shiny objects, fuzzy kittens, flashing lights, and will happily drink any kool-aid I come across!

Sad. I appear to be a mindless sheep. This probably comes as no surprise to most of you.

Whatever. I'm going to click the "publish" button, then race over to my blog to see if this worked! Cool!



-Sage Words

A Whole New Beginning

It's funny how being a so-called "expert" in a field can make you an idiot. As many of you may know (can I legally use the word "many" to describe my limited readership?) I have recently (last week) moved from the United Kingdom to Arizona. This is an issue I will deal with in an entirely other post, but for the moment, allow me to focus on one annoying thing.

You see, I needed to change my registration on this blog in order to deal with the fact that my old e-mail address no longer exists. The process for this is relatively straight-forward until you take into account the fact that, in many ways, I'm not terribly creative. One of the results of this non-creativity is my choice of nicknames. You know me here as Sage Words. That seems to have become my "nom de plume" (French for "surrender") over the years. However, I needed to come up with a new nickname in order to shift the admin functions of this blog over to my new account.

Somehow, in my haste and impatience, I have changed the "posted by" name on all my previous posts to what was supposed to be a temporary nickname, but now I'm afraid to change it for fear of losing all my posts.

So the long and the short of it is this: Old posts are now listed under the name "Parsley Words".

Parsley

My new ones will continue to be posted as "Sage Words".

Sage

Naturally, I'm good in pasta either way.



-Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme Words

Angry Bloggers Are Happy Bloggers

So I was re-reading my post from yesterday and it occurred to me that it was somewhat angry. Now, people get angry sometimes, it's just a fact of life. And I'm not going to apologize for my words. I'm quite careful about what I put up here and I don't publish it until I'm sure it's what I want to say.

With that being said, I think I need to lighten up a bit (for now!). So I'm going to open this up to my fans (both of you) to decide! I hereby promise to write about anything you want to hear! Post a comment on this entry and let me know what you want me to expound upon. I'll take the first five suggestions, regardless of topic, and write a minimum of 500 words for each one! And they will all be lighthearted and happy (unless they aren't) in keeping with my newfound need for anger management! After those five, I may or may not use other suggestions, depending on my whims!

Of course, as with anything, there are rules. Please keep the following in mind while giving me my orders:

• While I have no problem writing about poop, if that is the only word you put in your comment, I may simply write a dirty limerick and be done with it
  
• I am willing to write dirty limericks
  
• I will only revisit a topic I've previously covered if you have specific questions. Or if I feel like it
  
• You can never have too many references to monkeys. If you don't mention monkeys in your comment, don't be surprised if I throw them in anyway!
  
• Obscurity is a plus! If I have to look up a lot of stuff just to understand what you're talking about, that means I'll learn something, and that's cool
  
• Politics are fair game (in case you haven't noticed!) but don't expect me to agree with you
  
• Feel free to ask me about events in my life (first time I blew up an anthill, how often I skipped classes, etc)
  
• I will not post naked pictures of myself. Enough people have been traumatized by seeing me naked and I don't wish to add to the list
  
• Please phrase your comments in such a way that they will not call out any individual by name. Nicknames are fine, if you're sure I'll get it
  

Okay, I'm ready for the challenge! Test me, confuse me, dare me, whatever! Bring it on!

 

 

-Sage Words

New-Fangled Computer Thingies

So I just got the newest version of my default word processor (we don't do product placement here!) and it has this nifty feature that allegedly allows me to publish straight to my blog from the program itself. Now, I'm not particularly timid about technology (I have two computers, a laptop, a PDA, an iPod, two other MP3 players, several thumb drives, and cell phone numbers in two countries!) but it's just a bit scary to think my word processor can pretend it's me long enough to post to my blog!

I mean, what happens if I'm working on a school paper and I accidentally post it? Then it gets scanned by Google and ends up living on the interwebs forever? Then I turn in my paper and my instructor uses one of the term-paper scanning sites to see if I've plagiarized the work and the site finds MY OWN paper in Google's cache so the instructor gives me an "F" for plagiarizing MYSELF?!!?!!?

Dude. It's too much to consider.

However, I am nothing if not an enthusiastic adopter (mindless sheep) of new technology, so I'm writing this in my word processor and am going to try to upload it automatically.

Cross your fingers.

 

 

-Sage Words

Everything I say is perfectly reasonable.

I hate koalas.

There. I said it. And I'm glad I said it! Koalas are one of the most useless animals in all of creation! Oh, I know what you're saying:

"But koalas are so cute! They're fuzzy and soft and cuddly!"

Good point. I suggest we make coats and mittens out of 'em!

I'm serious! Koalas can't even be trusted to eat properly (like Nicole Ritchie?). They will only eat eucalyptus leaves which are a HORRIBLE food source! Koalas are one of the most profound idiots in the animal kingdom and I don't think we should tolerate their existence!

NASTY and useless, just like koalas!

Not only are eucalyptus leaves low in protein and mostly indigestible, but they are actually POISONOUS! These morons eat poison! On purpose! Koalas won't even DRINK WATER! They get all of their moisture from the stupid, indigestible, poisonous leaves that they've eaten for so long that they had to develop a special stomach to ferment them in order to extract a little more nutrition! They will literally DIE of THIRST sitting next to a pool of water if there are no eucalyptus leaves around!

Dude. Have a sandwich and a glass of milk, willya? Jeeze!

I suggest we disabuse ourselves of this whole "cute animals must live" nonsense and remember our place in the food chain. And I suggest we start by eating every last useless, stupid, poison-loving koala on the planet!

Yum!

In fact, why stop there? Koalas aren't the only useless-but-cute-so-let's-not-kill-them creatures in the world! Here are a few more items to add to the menu at my new "Circle of Life" chain of restaurants:

Pandas:

Good start!

These guys are even worse than the koalas! Pandas are carnivores. Pandas only eat bamboo. Pandas are nearly incapable of digesting cellulose. Bamboo is composed primarily of cellulose.

AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Actually, killing them off might be doing the pandas a favor. How many times have you heard about the complete and utter failure of pandas to mate in the wild, in captivity, in cheap motel rooms, in the back seats of cars, or ANYWHERE!?! They are trying to tell us something! They want to die out! But do we let them? No! We kidnap them, slip them a mickey, and artificially inseminate them!

Hey baby, what's your sign?

Isn't that what aliens do to lonely farmers they abduct from the X-Files? Just let them go! it's what they want! I don't see any of you trying to stop the lemmings! If lemmings are going to be allowed to kill themselves off en mass, why not pandas? Maybe instead of inseminating pandas against their will, we should be providing them with razor blades and blunt objects and encouraging them to ride skate boards without helmets!! Or are we going to suddenly come to our senses and start strapping air bags to all the lemmings and forcing them all to read "PlayRodent"?

What is wrong with these creatures? Die, pandas, die! Panda steaks, Koala Stew, and a side of Lemming McNuggets for everyone!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, I'm guessing by now that one or two of you (my entire readership!) are beginning to suspect that there's something slightly wrong with me. Now, while I certainly cannot refute that assertion, my wrongness is not manifested by my sudden desire to kill and eat as many cute but useless animals as possible. It just occurred to me that, if you're loud enough and forceful enough, you can convince yourself of the truth in ANY damn-fool idea. Take the Sons of Confederate Veterans, for example.

In a celebration of their "Southern Heritage", this noble group raised a 30-foot by 50-foot Confederate Battle Flag on a 139-foot flag pole in Hillsborough County, Florida.

Gigantic symbol of ignorance

Now, I'm not one to criticize (people who criticize suck!) but I'm not sure this idea is a First-Class ticket to peace and harmony. As a matter of fact, it appears to be causing a bit of a controversy. Imagine that.

The Sons of Confederate Veterans say the flag is simply an expression of their heritage:

A Tampa man is explaining his decision to hoist what some are calling "the world's largest confederate flag" on a lot next to a busy highway. Marion Lambert of Brandon, Florida said the flag is "the most recognizable southern symbol" and he will be using it "to focus attention on the heritage [and] the history" of the south.

Unfortunately, for most (educated) people in this day and age that flag merely symbolizes hatred, intolerance, discrimination, and ignorance. Now, if that's what they're going for, great! If the Sons of Confederate Veterans are trying to show how backward and pig-headed they can be, than a 1500 square-foot "Stars & Bars" is just the way to go.

But wait. This is what they hung up:

????

And they call it the "Confederate Flag". That's odd. That's not the flag of the Confederate States of America. And it never was! Here are the official flags of the CSA (click for larger image):

Flags of Our (loser) Fathers

The top one is the real "Stars & Bars" and was adopted specifically because it was reminiscent of our own "Stars & Stripes"! Honest!

So here we have these poor, lost souls, celebrating their heritage with a symbol that never stood for what they're celebrating. That flag they are so proud of was simply one of 180 different battle standards used by the Confederacy. It was ultimately the most popular, which is why it is part of the second and third flags, but not the whole thing.

No, that symbol by itself has come to represent hate, intolerance, and division. It's a reminder of how far we once sank, as a species, when we thought it was perfectly fine to consider another human"property". It's a symbol of the most callous kind of indifference and it should only be brought out to teach an object lesson about the potential for hate in our society. In fact if it must be displayed, it should be like this:

Gallows Humor

Artist John Sims, of Tallahassee, Florida calls this piece "The Proper Way To Hang A Confederate Flag". Oddly enough, the Sons of Confederate Veterans are upset and have protested its display as "offensive, objectionable and tasteless". Now isn't that interesting?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is 2008 people. We can do micro surgery on our eyes with lasers and we can build machines out of individual molecules! The things we can do, and the ways we can improve people's lives are simply astounding! So why should we hold on to ancient symbols of hate and division? Why not concentrate more on symbols of love, happiness, kindness and hope?

Or you can come on down to the "Circle of Life Cafe" and have a big steaming bowl of Ignorance Soup on the house! And if you get any on you, have one of our napkins...
















-Sage Words

So How Hungry Are YOU?

I’m in the Air Force. Have been for almost sixteen years now. It’s a good job, and a great way of life, and I am quite proud of what I’ve done in the service of my country.

Mind you, it hasn’t always been easy. There’ve been lots of times when I’ve been given jobs to do that were, shall we say, aggravating. As a young Airman, I once spent a long, hot day planting flowers at the end of a General’s driveway. It was blisteringly hot and at one point, I asked the General’s wife if I could get a drink of water from the hose. She told me to wait until my Sergeant came around and he would get me some water.

Nice.

Now you would think that I would react badly to this but remember, I was new to the Air Force and quite cognizant of my place in the military hierarchy. So instead of blowing up at her, or arguing, or ignoring her and going for the hose anyway, or otherwise getting myself in a heap of trouble, I held my tongue. And after she left, I calmly and methodically severed the roots of all of the flowers in her flower bed. This is what we in the military call “Military Bearing”.

Military Bearing is a skill. If the military is going to complete the very difficult task of defending our nation, we must be able to maintain our composure at all times, regardless of the forces working against us. This is taught to us from the very beginning, in Basic Training.

In Basic Training, most of the people in the flight (about 60 people in mine) had jobs to do besides just marching and making beds. The jobs ranged from Academic Monitor, (not the smartest person in the flight, but usually thinks so) who made sure we all studied our required lessons, to Latrine Queen (not actual royalty, but also usually thinks so) who made sure our latrines stayed in inspection order. But my job was, in some respects, the most difficult of all. I was the Chow Runner. And being Chow Runner is all about Military Bearing.

-------------------

The job of Chow Runner is quite simple on the surface. Before a meal, all flights eating at that dining hall (usually four at a time) form up outside the building. The Chow Runner falls out and enters the dining hall to arrange for his flight to eat. The flight must stay in formation outside the Dining Hall until the Chow Runner comes back for them. This, of course, is the rub.

Being a good Chow Runner is pure Military Bearing. Obstacles are purposely put in your path, and you are expected to overcome them in order to gain entrance to the Dining Hall for your flight. On the surface, the job goes like this:

The Chow Runner enters the dining hall and makes his way to the “Snake Pit,” Picture a large table in the center of the back wall where all the Training Instructors (T.I.’s) eat. The T.I. sitting in the middle is the one the Chow Runner reports to. If the T.I.’s in the Snake Pit are happy with the way the Chow Runner reported they send him out to bring in his flight. If not, the Chow Runner is put “on the Wall.”

Being “on the Wall” means exactly that; you stand at attention against the wall until the T.I.’s at the Snake Pit tell you to get off it. If another Chow Runner comes in and is accepted before you come off the wall, your flight waits until that flight has all come in before you get another chance to satisfy the Snake Pit. This can go on until just before the end of the meal period. If you’re still on the wall at the end, you have to rush out, get your flight and (in all likelihood) miss your own meal due to the rest of the Chow Runner’s duties.

But eventually the Chow Runner is permitted to go outside and lead his flight in. Then you must go back to the Snake Pit and report. If they are happy with your report, you go and guide your flight to the next available seating area. If they are unhappy… the Wall.

Once the flight has gotten its food and been seated, the Chow Runner reports yet again to the Snake Pit. If the Chow Runner passes muster, he gets to eat. If not… the Wall.

So, a very simple process, isn’t it? But like I said, the whole thing is an exercise in Military Bearing. You must follow all protocols exactly. You must speak only when spoken to. You must precede each statement with the proper Reporting Statement. And you must do it all without ever losing your cool and getting mad or scared or intimidated. I only mention this because there is another reason it’s called the “Snake Pit.”

The T.I.’s, especially with new Chow Runners, like to try to make them lose their cool. They’ll yell, or get up and stare you down, or crack jokes, whatever it takes to make the Chow Runner lose his cool. And if you do…the Wall.

So there I was, first day as a Chow Runner. I had practiced the whole previous day and I thought I had it down. But now, it was time to put my training to the test.

“Chow Runner, fall out!” yelled our T.I.

“Proceeding, sir!” I yelled, and ran in to both the dining hall, and the most memorable event of my short Air Force career.

----------------------------------

As I made my way to the Snake Pit, I could only hope that today they would be easy on me. As some of you may or may not know, I tend a bit towards the sarcastic. It has often been said that my mouth will be the end of me. Kind of like when Gary Hart said, “I dare you to catch me cheating on my wife!” But, I digress…

My hands, cupped perfectly and swinging six inches to the front, three to the rear as I marched in, were getting a bit sweaty as I got closer to the Snake Pit. I could see them up there, watching me. Waiting for me to get there so they could strike, like vipers. I marched up to the Snake Pit and made my reporting statement. “Sir, Airman Sage Words (my name has been changed to protect my innocence!) reports as ordered! Flight 319 is prepared to enter the dining hall!”

As I said this, I remained at perfect attention, eyes not looking directly at the T.I. but also not looking away. No one yelled at me, and I thought I had done pretty well. I even thought I’d be allowed to just go and bring in my flight. Ah, youth!

“Airman” the T.I. growled, after sizing me up. “We’re taking a survey today. How hungry is your flight?”

Oh boy, here we go! “Sir, Flight 319 is extremely hungry!” I said.

“Son, that’s not good enough,” the T.I. replied. He winked to one of his companions at the table as he continued. “I’m going to ask you again, Airman. And this time, I want you to answer: ‘My flight is as hungry as…’ and I want you to give me the name of an animal.”

‘Well,’ I thought, ‘this isn’t going to be pleasant.’ But I managed not to break as I said, “Sir, my flight is as hungry as a tiger!”

At this point, one of the other T.I.’s at the table chimed in. “That’s not good enough, Airman. Someone already used ‘Tiger’ today. Give us another animal!”

I was really sweating it now. I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t dare. And I was annoyed that they were messing with me on my first day as Chow Runner. But all I could do was play along and hope they weren’t as sadistic as I was beginning to suspect they were (and probably would be myself, in their place!). Since it was a different person who addressed me, I did a little facing movement so I would be directly facing him. Then I gave him my reporting statement, followed by my new response.

“Sir, Airman Sage Words reports as ordered! My flight is as hungry as a bear!”

“That’s not good enough, Airman!” the first T.I. broke in. His voice was raised ever so slightly, indicating that he was having a pretty good time. “We’ve heard that one today too! I’m going to ask you one more time and if I don’t like your answer, you’re on the wall! Now, how hungry is your flight?”

Now I was mad. I could feel everyone in the dining hall looking at me, waiting for me to screw up. I knew the T.I.’s were having fun because I could see some of them smiling ever so slightly. That’s when I thought, ‘Okay guys, you wanna play? Let’s play!’ Again, I made my facing movement, and made sure my face was totally deadpan and my body ramrod straight. I made my reporting statement.

“Sir, Airman Sage Words reports as ordered! My flight is as hungry as a wombat!”

Silence. I swear you could hear a cricket chirp.

Someone coughed.

Finally, pandemonium!

The entire Snake Pit erupted in laughter! Of the four or five T.I.’s at the table, there was maybe one who could still draw breath. And then there was me. Ramrod straight and totally deadpan.

Finally, someone managed to sputter out, “What the hell is a wombat?”

Without batting an eye, I did my facing movement and snapped, “Sir, Airman Sage Words reports as ordered! A wombat is a four-toed mammal that lives in trees!”

This last was greeted by fresh gales of laughter and the T.I. in charge of the snake pit, his face going a bit red, hollered above the din, “Ok Airman, bring in your herd!”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I took a deep breath, did an about-face, and marched out to “bring in my herd”. Inside I was screaming with laughter (and, admittedly, a certain smugness), but outside, I was still ramrod straight and totally deadpan. I had no choice since I wasn’t finished yet. Once I brought my charges into the dining hall I still had to report back to the Snake Pit.

“Sir, Airman Sage Words reports as ordered! The first Airman from flight 319 has entered the dining hall.”

The laughter had subsided in my absence, and I could tell they were spoiling for a fight. While I was gone, it seemed to have dawned on them that I had made them lose their Military Bearing! So I wasn’t very surprised when I heard the T.I. ask, “Aren’t you the wombat?”

“Yes sir!” I responded. “Flight 319 was as hungry as a wombat!”

“And what did you say a wombat was again?” He didn’t want to let it go.

“Sir, a wombat is a four-toed mammal that lives in trees!” Ramrod straight and deadpan.

Now he was giving me the hairy eyeball. I could tell he wanted me to break, but I wasn’t going to do it. I could take whatever he had to dish out! He stared hard at me for about an hour and a half (hour and a half, 20 seconds, whatever!), and finally dismissed me.

Whew! It was over! I beat them at their own game and was going to get to eat! My own T.I. would be proud of me for succeeding on my first day as Chow Runner, and I was going to ride this victory all the way to becoming the youngest Chief Master Sergeant of the Air Force! I was that good.

Of course, I wasn’t counting on the ineptitude of others.

As the last of my flight sat down and I was about to go get my own meal, a brand-new Airman, without even his first issue uniform, lost his cool at the Snake Pit and paid for it.

“What’s the matter with you, Airman!” the T.I. was yelling, “Haven’t you got any freakin’ military bearing? Get on the wall! I’ll SHOW you some military bearing! Chow Runner, flight 319, get up here now!”

‘Oh crap!’ I thought. ‘I was so close!’

Still, I was not to be vanquished! This was my day and I had discovered that Military Bearing can be combined with Smart-Assery to bring about success! I wasn’t going to let them take that from me! Please take all proper facing movements as a given…

“Sir, Airman Sage Words reports as ordered!”

“How hungry was your flight?”

“Sir, Flight 319 was as hungry as a wombat!”

“And what is a wombat, Airman?”

“Sir, a wombat is a four-toed mammal that lives in trees!”

“I know that, Airman! But what does it look like?”

Huh? This was new! Still, I had my ‘A’ Game that day…

“Sir, it’s a small furry creature that resembles a koala!”

“You tellin’ me it looks like a koala bear, Airman?”

“No sir! A koala is not a bear, it’s a marsupial, sir!”

Everything stopped.

I just stood there, ramrod straight and totally deadpan, waiting to see what would happen. Then, chaos ensued throughout the dining hall. Everyone was laughing, yelling or generally freaking out except for me. Throughout it all, I was ramrod straight and totally deadpan.

Finally the T.I. told me to get the hell out of his dining hall! Again, I didn’t need to be told twice! I did my facing movement and marched straight outside. Then I laughed so hard and so long that I nearly collapsed against the wall! I couldn’t even answer when my own T.I. demanded to know what was so funny!

I laughed so hard I ended up scrubbing pigeon droppings off the buildings in the squadron two hours a day for the next three days! But they couldn’t break me! I never once lost my Military Bearing! And from that day, until graduation, I never got put on the wall.

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I have many obsessions. I’m a great fan of drunk monkeys, I can recite every word of “Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail”, and I am totally convinced that THIS YEAR is the year my beloved Denver Broncos win the Super Bowl again; but those obsessions all originated outside myself. The wombat thing (and now you know the real reason for the title of this blog!) is totally my own creation, born of the perfect confluence of sarcasm and terror in the very formation of my adult life! I will always cherish it, and it makes me smile to write about it now, to share with you! Thanks for reading!

For the record, the American Heritage Dictionary says a wombat is “any of several stocky, burrowing, Australian marsupials of the family Vombatidae, somewhat resembling a small bear and feeding mainly on grass, leaves, and roots.”

As it turns out, I was wrong about the trees. Go figure.

-Sage Words

Remedial Parent Training

Today's entry is brought to you by My Parents (see below). They need help figuring out how to put a picture into a blog entry like so:


Viola! Now there's a picture!

Mom, I'll need extra starch on my shirts if you don't mind.

Love ya!



-Sage Words