It's 2:18 in the morning, and I should be sleeping. Luckily I subscribe to the opinion that a gentleman is free to do whatever
he chooses... so long as he does it in
style. I'm reading a book by
Micheal Shaara called
The Killer Angels. A very
lucid and readable book about the battle of
Gettysburg. It is probably the best novel about the civil war itself ever
written. Certainly amongst those that claim historical accuracy.
It is time to start prepping for the
AP US History exam, so I should probably start noding everything I know about U.S. History
in order to prepare. Quite a lot to be written on the subject. As i've studied it i've gained a certain respect for the nation.
A certain pride in being a part of this
secular religion, this idea that somehow, in this nation, everything will turn out
for the best. In part because of faith in our governments machinations, eternally checking itself and slowly but surely doing
what it can and ought to do. Whether that be to end slavery through
the Civil War, or to get America
out of hell in the form of
The New Deal, the nation seems to have a habit of making everything turn out for the best, in the
end at least. Sure, maybe soon we're going down like the
Romans, but if we are, then in classic American fashion, we'll
go out with
style.
Later today I have to visit le shrink. We never seem to talk about anything worthwhile, mostly just sports and how the
falcons suck and why we can't stand the mediocre nature of
College Football. Shrinks are getting very
popular, ever since
9/11, or so the folks on
NPR would have me believe. After I
get away from the shrink i'll hustle home to play a rousing series of battles in
Soul Calibur and
Chu Chu Rockets with my
friend, Ben, who bought me a
dreamcast controller for
Christmas. I really must get some more games for it.
Grand Theft
Auto 2 would be a nice addition to my library of (3) games.
I eagerly await my mother getting me my
cashiers check from my fathers inheritence. A paltry sum so far as inheritances go, to be
sure. $2,000. But I think Grandpa would want me to have a
Playstation 2 or a
computer. However what he
really wants is for me to join the
marines, or so it would seem. It seems he inquired to the marines about recuitment for me,
and thus they sent me some literature. Sorry grandpa, I know my limitations.
USAF is where its at for me.
It's not so much that I don't think I could be a marine if I had the gumption to prepare for that sort of thing, it's the fact that
I have a very strong urge to drop bombs on people. It's simply my
style to wave down at the enemy at the ground and drop a
daisycutter on their cute little heads with chalk markings that state simply, "If you can read this, you're fucked!" Ah,
the vulgarities we permit toward the enemy. Hopefully we wont end up in
WWIII because of this
conflict
we are having with Afghanistan. But if we do, so be it,
providence will have then ordained that we defeat (read: kill) as
many as possible to preserve that
secular religion, that american ideal,
Liberty at any cost.