…The Kill Box Is Hot!...
The Viper screeched to a halt, catching Karl off guard and snapping him out of his day dreams. He checked his watch and saw that the trip had taken an hour and a half. As he hopped off the tank he realized how much his ass hurt from sitting on the hard metal of the tank. He shook his legs to wake them up and rechecked his gear for the third time. He learned his lesson the hard way; a trooper can never be prepared enough. Over the COM squad leaders called for their squads to assemble, platoon leaders called for their platoons to assemble, and the team leaders were called to the Captain’s V-33 Raptor Hummer for the briefing. Karl took a knee with the rest of his squad and platoon. He glanced around taking in the scenery. Smoke drifted in the distance and small arms fire could be heard from the west side of the city. The roar of fighter jets rumbled the earth under him. And explosions rattled his teeth. His platoon talked amongst themselves, but Karl and Stacy remained silent and vigilant. They were getting into their sniper mode and needed to be on their guard at every moment. Lieutenant McCoy walked back over to the platoon smoking a cigarette with Sergeant Dickerson hot on his tail. The Sarge was the definition of Army material. A short and stocky man in his late 40’s he was always seen with a cigar in his mouth. He had been serving in the Army since before Karl was born and knew a lot more than even the lieutenant. He’d even been up for a few promotions, but declined from each and every one of them. He said it was because he didn’t want to be the babysitter for a bunch of “snotty brats”. But Karl figured it was because he wouldn’t be able to handle the guilt of having their lives at his command. But Karl had been wrong about people before.
“Alright lady and gentlemen. Listen up. Our primary objective is straight forward. We’re to take control of this city no questions asked. But we’re gonna do things the hard way and fight sector by sector. Our first KZ will be designated KZ Brutusk. It’s smack dab in the middle of the whole damned city. And it ranges from 0.04 to 2.34.”
“But lieutenant, that’s over two miles for one platoon! We’ll be stretched too thin to hold off any counter attacks!” Private Mendez shouted from the front of the group.
“This is true, but HQ is smart this time and each KZ will overlap each other. To our North will be KZ Omaha, and to our South will be KZ Apex. That way we can get support from each side.” The lieutenant stopped and took a final drag from his smoke. “HQ isn’t taking failure as an option for this one lady. Reports show that the Nuke is still in this city and we need to get to it before anyone else. That SOF squad is still MIA, so we are also ordered to try and find anything that can show us what happened to them, or bring their bodies back home. Comprende? Can I get a Hoo-Rah?”
“HOO-RAH!” the entire platoon answered in unison.
The clicks of M3 tactical helmets could be heard snapping into place as the platoon geared up. Over the COM the Lieutenant gave the order for Karl and Stacy to scout ahead of the platoon and set up sniper cover. Karl reached into his sack and grabbed his 200x optical scope and silencer and attached them both to Tiffany then clicked his weapon off of safety. Stacy patted him on his helmet signaling to him that she was ready to go. On his HUD he clicked him status light to green signaling to the rest of the platoon that everything was good to go for the time being then he and Stacy made their way into the city just as the sun gave off its last rays of light and Karl’s world was plunged into darkness.
Karl and Little made their way around burning and broken cars, destroyed buildings, and darted from alleyways all the while being sure that they stayed out of sight their enemy who could potentially be in every building. As they made their way into the city Karl noticed that there was only one building that had been left untouched by previous bombing in their sector. He dropped to a knee and motioned for Stacy to do the same. He motioned her to look at the building and she nodded in understanding. He stood back up and surveyed the area. Nothing moved, save the small gust of wind that blew in from the coast. He poked his head around the corner to find a Z-23 Crosman Artillery tank smack dab in the middle of the street. He motioned for Little to stay put, and dropped to a knee. Flipping his status light from green to red he opened a COM to the Lieutenant. “504, this is 504 actual, over.”
“This is McCoy, go ahead 504 actual.”
“El-Tee, we got ourselves a Crosman at 1.27 by drop 1.32. What are our orders?”
The Lieutenant was quiet for a minute before coming back over the COM. “Take is out, 504 out.”
The COM was closed and Karl had his orders. Karl turned to face Little and made a C with his left hand and used his index finger of his right hand to pierce the C. The signal for a Crosman tank. Then made the kill sign by taking his hand across his throat. He pointed across the street then to himself. Then pointed to Stacy then motioned for her to go around the building. She gave a half salute showing she understood her orders, then turned on her heels and silently ran into the darkness to flank the tank and its crew. Karl waited behind his corner until she gave the signal. He was going to draw the attention of the crew in order to give Stacy time to wire some C4 to the belly and barrel of the tank. Over the COM came one click. That was her signal to Karl that she was in position. He took a deep breath and made a break for the building on the opposite side of the street. As he did so he heard some voices, and the tank began to turn in his direction. He turned from around the corner and using his night vision he saw three men gathered around the tank. They were wearing the first model of the M3 combat suit, which meant they were Iraqi. He raised his Rapier and fired three rounds. Three bodies dropped to the ground with nothing more than a silent thud. He gave three clicks over the COM signaling to Stacy that the coast was clear and she could plant the C4. A minute later her status light went from red to yellow, signaling to take cover. Karl dropped to the ground and covered his head. As he did so the tank erupted into flames. Its barrel ripped from the base and the belly of the beast burst wide open. A loud crack echoed through the city. Stacy’s status light changed to green, as did Karl’s. He ran towards the destroyed tank and met with Stacy who crouched on the corner of the nearest building. They proceeded to the building without further incident.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Before
…The Kill Box Is Hot!...
The tank screeched to a halt, snapping Karl him out of his day dreams. As he hopped off the tank he realized how much his ass hurt from sitting on the hard metal of the tank. He learned his lesson the hard way; a trooper can never be prepared enough. Over the COM squad leaders called for their squads to assemble, platoon leaders called for their platoons to assemble, and the team leaders were called to the Captain’s V-33 Raptor Hummer for the briefing. Smoke drifted in the distance and small arms fire could be heard from the west side of the city. The roar of fighter jets rumbled the earth under him. And explosions rattled his teeth. His platoon talked amongst themselves, but Karl and Stacy remained silent and vigilant. Lieutenant McCoy walked back over to the platoon Sergeant Dickerson on his tail. The Sarge was the definition of Army material. A short and stocky man in his late 40’s he was always seen with a cigar in his mouth. He had been serving in the Army since before Karl was born and knew a lot more than even the lieutenant. He’d even been up for a few promotions, but declined from each and every one of them. He said it was because he didn’t want to be the babysitter for a bunch of “snotty brats”.
“Alright lady and gentlemen. Listen up. Our primary objective is straight forward. We’re to take control of this city no questions asked. But we’re gonna do things the hard way and fight sector by sector. Our first KZ will be designated KZ Brutusk. It’s smack dab in the middle of the whole damned city. And it ranges from 0.04 to 2.34.”
“But lieutenant, that’s over two miles for one platoon! We’ll be stretched too thin to hold off any counter attacks!” Private Mendez shouted from the front of the group.
“This is true, but HQ is smart this time and each KZ will overlap each other. To our North will be KZ Omaha, and to our South will be KZ Apex. That way we can get support from each side.” The lieutenant stopped and took a final drag from his smoke. “HQ isn’t taking failure as an option for this one lady. Reports show that the Nuke is still in this city and we need to get to it before anyone else. That SOF squad is still MIA, so we are also ordered to try and find anything that can show us what happened to them, or bring their bodies back home. Comprende? Can I get a Hoo-Rah?”
“HOO-RAH!” the entire platoon answered in unison.
The clicks of M3 tactical helmets could be heard snapping into place as the platoon geared up. Over the COM the Lieutenant gave the order for Karl and Stacy to scout ahead of the platoon and set up sniper cover. Karl reached into his sack and grabbed his 200x optical scope and silencer and attached them both to Tiffany then clicked his weapon off of safety. Stacy patted him on his helmet signaling to him that she was ready to go. On his HUD he clicked him status light to green signaling to the rest of the platoon that everything was good to go for the time being then he and Stacy made their way into the city just as the sun gave off its last rays of light and Karl’s world was plunged into darkness.
Karl and Little made their way around burning and broken cars, destroyed buildings, and darted from alleyways all the while being sure that they stayed out of sight their enemy who could potentially be in every building. He dropped to a knee and motioned for Stacy to do the same. He motioned her to look a building at the corner and she nodded. He stood back up and surveyed the area. He poked his head around the corner to find a Z-23 Crosman Artillery tank smack dab in the middle of the street. He motioned for Little to stay put, and dropped to a knee.
Karl turned to face Little and made a C with his left hand and used his index finger of his right hand to pierce the C. Then made the kill sign by taking his hand across his throat. He pointed across the street then to himself. Then pointed to Stacy then motioned for her to go around the building. She gave a half salute showing she understood her orders, then turned on her heels and silently ran into the darkness to flank the tank and its crew. Karl waited behind his corner until she gave the signal. Over the COM came one click. That was her signal to Karl that she was in position. He took a deep breath and made a break for the building on the opposite side of the street. As he did so he heard some voices, and the tank began to turn in his direction. He turned from around the corner and using his night vision he saw three men gathered around the tank. They were wearing the first model of the M3 combat suit, which meant they were Iraqi. He raised his Rapier and fired three rounds. Three bodies dropped to the ground with nothing more than a silent thud. He gave three clicks over the COM signaling to Stacy that the coast was clear and she could plant the C4. A minute later her status light went from red to yellow, signaling to take cover. Karl dropped to the ground and covered his head. As he did so the tank erupted into flames. Its barrel ripped from the base and the belly of the beast burst wide open. A loud crack echoed through the city. Stacy’s status light changed to green, as did Karl’s. He ran towards the destroyed tank and met with Stacy who crouched on the corner of the nearest building. They proceeded to the building without further incident.
The tank screeched to a halt, snapping Karl him out of his day dreams. As he hopped off the tank he realized how much his ass hurt from sitting on the hard metal of the tank. He learned his lesson the hard way; a trooper can never be prepared enough. Over the COM squad leaders called for their squads to assemble, platoon leaders called for their platoons to assemble, and the team leaders were called to the Captain’s V-33 Raptor Hummer for the briefing. Smoke drifted in the distance and small arms fire could be heard from the west side of the city. The roar of fighter jets rumbled the earth under him. And explosions rattled his teeth. His platoon talked amongst themselves, but Karl and Stacy remained silent and vigilant. Lieutenant McCoy walked back over to the platoon Sergeant Dickerson on his tail. The Sarge was the definition of Army material. A short and stocky man in his late 40’s he was always seen with a cigar in his mouth. He had been serving in the Army since before Karl was born and knew a lot more than even the lieutenant. He’d even been up for a few promotions, but declined from each and every one of them. He said it was because he didn’t want to be the babysitter for a bunch of “snotty brats”.
“Alright lady and gentlemen. Listen up. Our primary objective is straight forward. We’re to take control of this city no questions asked. But we’re gonna do things the hard way and fight sector by sector. Our first KZ will be designated KZ Brutusk. It’s smack dab in the middle of the whole damned city. And it ranges from 0.04 to 2.34.”
“But lieutenant, that’s over two miles for one platoon! We’ll be stretched too thin to hold off any counter attacks!” Private Mendez shouted from the front of the group.
“This is true, but HQ is smart this time and each KZ will overlap each other. To our North will be KZ Omaha, and to our South will be KZ Apex. That way we can get support from each side.” The lieutenant stopped and took a final drag from his smoke. “HQ isn’t taking failure as an option for this one lady. Reports show that the Nuke is still in this city and we need to get to it before anyone else. That SOF squad is still MIA, so we are also ordered to try and find anything that can show us what happened to them, or bring their bodies back home. Comprende? Can I get a Hoo-Rah?”
“HOO-RAH!” the entire platoon answered in unison.
The clicks of M3 tactical helmets could be heard snapping into place as the platoon geared up. Over the COM the Lieutenant gave the order for Karl and Stacy to scout ahead of the platoon and set up sniper cover. Karl reached into his sack and grabbed his 200x optical scope and silencer and attached them both to Tiffany then clicked his weapon off of safety. Stacy patted him on his helmet signaling to him that she was ready to go. On his HUD he clicked him status light to green signaling to the rest of the platoon that everything was good to go for the time being then he and Stacy made their way into the city just as the sun gave off its last rays of light and Karl’s world was plunged into darkness.
Karl and Little made their way around burning and broken cars, destroyed buildings, and darted from alleyways all the while being sure that they stayed out of sight their enemy who could potentially be in every building. He dropped to a knee and motioned for Stacy to do the same. He motioned her to look a building at the corner and she nodded. He stood back up and surveyed the area. He poked his head around the corner to find a Z-23 Crosman Artillery tank smack dab in the middle of the street. He motioned for Little to stay put, and dropped to a knee.
Karl turned to face Little and made a C with his left hand and used his index finger of his right hand to pierce the C. Then made the kill sign by taking his hand across his throat. He pointed across the street then to himself. Then pointed to Stacy then motioned for her to go around the building. She gave a half salute showing she understood her orders, then turned on her heels and silently ran into the darkness to flank the tank and its crew. Karl waited behind his corner until she gave the signal. Over the COM came one click. That was her signal to Karl that she was in position. He took a deep breath and made a break for the building on the opposite side of the street. As he did so he heard some voices, and the tank began to turn in his direction. He turned from around the corner and using his night vision he saw three men gathered around the tank. They were wearing the first model of the M3 combat suit, which meant they were Iraqi. He raised his Rapier and fired three rounds. Three bodies dropped to the ground with nothing more than a silent thud. He gave three clicks over the COM signaling to Stacy that the coast was clear and she could plant the C4. A minute later her status light went from red to yellow, signaling to take cover. Karl dropped to the ground and covered his head. As he did so the tank erupted into flames. Its barrel ripped from the base and the belly of the beast burst wide open. A loud crack echoed through the city. Stacy’s status light changed to green, as did Karl’s. He ran towards the destroyed tank and met with Stacy who crouched on the corner of the nearest building. They proceeded to the building without further incident.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
The Experiences of The Unexperienced
Wow, what a semester I’ve had. My first semester in college as a matter of fact. And to tell you the truth it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. But then again, these days nothing really ever does live up to its expectations. And here at the end of it all, I have to say with all honesty that one of my favorite classes had to have been my English 111 class. I’m not saying that just because I know my professor will be reading this. I’m saying it because it’s the truth! Throughout my life writing and reading have been big passions of mine. And the reason I liked the class so much is that my Paul (my professor) didn’t just teach the class with a knowledge that he earned in his own schooling, but he teaches it with a knowledge gained in having a passion for all that he learned.
During his classes he taught us all how to not just read but to analyze all that we read. We analyzed so much that by the end of the class I couldn’t read the ingredients label on a soda can without looking for ethos, logos, and pathos. (That is an exaggeration of course, because I don’t think it could be humanly possible to put ethos, logos, or pathos in a list of ingredients). But that’s beside the point. The point of this story is that the things that he taught me will always be helpful even if I didn’t think it would be when we started the semester. But some people will be thinking “how could it ever be helpful to ruin a good story by always looking for all those rhetoric devices?” And for those of you with those questions I can answer them with these two simple ways. First, you could always read the story just for your enjoyment and satisfaction then go back and reread it looking for the rhetoric devices. And second, you could just get really good at finding them that you can notice them right away while reading and enjoying your story. But of course this al also beside the point.
Being in this class has helped me be more aware of the thing that I read and the meanings behind them I can now look at any story I read and find a whole new meaning to it. I might even just find a meaning that the author didn’t intend on being in the story to begin with. Its fun finding hidden meanings in texts. It can always give you a new outlook on a lot of things. But whether or not I look for rhetorical devices or not it’s always fun to just read a good story from time to time. It’s fun to just escape my own life for a while and live the life of a young wizard going to a magical school, or a scientifically enhanced soldier given special armor to fight the Covenant forces in the depths of space. And sometimes it just a good way to pass the time!
During his classes he taught us all how to not just read but to analyze all that we read. We analyzed so much that by the end of the class I couldn’t read the ingredients label on a soda can without looking for ethos, logos, and pathos. (That is an exaggeration of course, because I don’t think it could be humanly possible to put ethos, logos, or pathos in a list of ingredients). But that’s beside the point. The point of this story is that the things that he taught me will always be helpful even if I didn’t think it would be when we started the semester. But some people will be thinking “how could it ever be helpful to ruin a good story by always looking for all those rhetoric devices?” And for those of you with those questions I can answer them with these two simple ways. First, you could always read the story just for your enjoyment and satisfaction then go back and reread it looking for the rhetoric devices. And second, you could just get really good at finding them that you can notice them right away while reading and enjoying your story. But of course this al also beside the point.
Being in this class has helped me be more aware of the thing that I read and the meanings behind them I can now look at any story I read and find a whole new meaning to it. I might even just find a meaning that the author didn’t intend on being in the story to begin with. Its fun finding hidden meanings in texts. It can always give you a new outlook on a lot of things. But whether or not I look for rhetorical devices or not it’s always fun to just read a good story from time to time. It’s fun to just escape my own life for a while and live the life of a young wizard going to a magical school, or a scientifically enhanced soldier given special armor to fight the Covenant forces in the depths of space. And sometimes it just a good way to pass the time!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Bomb It
This was honestly the most awesome movie we watched all semester! I would have to say it even tops Dawn of The Dead only because I’ve seen that movie only a hundred thousand times. Bomb It was a lot of fun to watch because it was something I used to do back when I lived in Waldorf, Maryland. Of course it was a very small thing because the friends who accompanied me and I were not the most talented artists in the world. But we tried our best, and most of all we had fun doing it. Sneaking out late on a school night and traveling to a big building that we knew everyone would see the next morning and we wrote and drew our little hearts off. We usually would spray up some things that had meaning to us as the youth in America. Lyrics from a song that had strong meaning to us or a bible verse every now and then.
But of course society looks down upon such actions and our little crew and whatever crews had the same intentions were persecuted after. Whether it be by the local law enforcements, or local gangs. But after a while things just got too hot for us and we decided that it would be in everyone’s best interest to discontinue our little escapades into the night. It’s a shame though that we had to. As our “art” became more widely noticed people began to talk about it. The positive views on it made us all have a profound sense of pride. People had said that our word on the walls were very “deep” and had “a lot of meaning”.
But of course there were always negative views on what we did. A lot of it came from the police department. They had threats to throw any and all parties into Juvenile detention or have us fined and hit with community service. It was scary to think that what started off as fun and with good intentions became so serious and presented us with major consequences. But it wasn’t until we had threats from gangs that we decided to retired from our writing on walls. They threatened to kill anyone writing in their “territory”. And we decided that our lives weren’t worth it.
It’s a shame that we had to stop because of other’s ignorance. I miss doing it because it gave a lot of people a new outlook on life. It’s funny how such a small thing can have such a big impact on the world around you in many different ways…
But of course society looks down upon such actions and our little crew and whatever crews had the same intentions were persecuted after. Whether it be by the local law enforcements, or local gangs. But after a while things just got too hot for us and we decided that it would be in everyone’s best interest to discontinue our little escapades into the night. It’s a shame though that we had to. As our “art” became more widely noticed people began to talk about it. The positive views on it made us all have a profound sense of pride. People had said that our word on the walls were very “deep” and had “a lot of meaning”.
But of course there were always negative views on what we did. A lot of it came from the police department. They had threats to throw any and all parties into Juvenile detention or have us fined and hit with community service. It was scary to think that what started off as fun and with good intentions became so serious and presented us with major consequences. But it wasn’t until we had threats from gangs that we decided to retired from our writing on walls. They threatened to kill anyone writing in their “territory”. And we decided that our lives weren’t worth it.
It’s a shame that we had to stop because of other’s ignorance. I miss doing it because it gave a lot of people a new outlook on life. It’s funny how such a small thing can have such a big impact on the world around you in many different ways…
Shitty First Drafts by Anne Lamott
Now this lovely piece of art caught my attention right off the bat. It’s catchy (and somewhat inappropriate) title was something I could relate to seeing as how I am an aspiring writer myself. Although in my style of writing I do things just a little bit different. I do my best to make it as perfect as humanly possible for a first draft. And then of course comes the next step of grammar and spell check. This small step is added in because my method of motivation (last minute panic) usually calls for a quick escape plan just in case I get caught up in other work… or decide to play video games instead. And if such an emergency happens upon my poor busy self, I would have a somewhat presentable paper to turn in. But of course, I don’t always slack off. On special occasions a get past the second step and reread what I wrote always finding things to elaborate upon or add detail to. This step is what usually ensures a good grade while just the first two steps are a decent grade.
It’s times like these that I honestly thank the high heavenly spirits that I don’t have to experience that hells of a type writer. Having to write multiple drafts and using an endless amount of paper. The costs would be astronomical. Not to mention the amount of gas having to go back and forth buying ink and paper. Then of course the cost of buying typewriter after type writer because I of all people would be the first to admit that if I had a typewriter it would constantly be going out the nearest window because I would constantly hit the wrong letter when I’m trying to type fast. It would be a pain in the ARSE!!!
This kind lady knew exactly what he was talking about while writing this. And it actually give me some kind of comfort in knowing that I’m not the only person in the world who could possibly look at their first draft of a paper and actually make a face that would make a baby cry.
It’s times like these that I honestly thank the high heavenly spirits that I don’t have to experience that hells of a type writer. Having to write multiple drafts and using an endless amount of paper. The costs would be astronomical. Not to mention the amount of gas having to go back and forth buying ink and paper. Then of course the cost of buying typewriter after type writer because I of all people would be the first to admit that if I had a typewriter it would constantly be going out the nearest window because I would constantly hit the wrong letter when I’m trying to type fast. It would be a pain in the ARSE!!!
This kind lady knew exactly what he was talking about while writing this. And it actually give me some kind of comfort in knowing that I’m not the only person in the world who could possibly look at their first draft of a paper and actually make a face that would make a baby cry.
Metamorphosis!
There's this story called Metamorphosis. It was written by this guy named Franz Kafka. The story (in short) is about a man named Gregor Samsa. All his life he has only worked to supports his entire family and himself. Always thinking of others and always putting himself last he never found time to get married, live his dreams or start a family. And somehow he has transformed into a giant insect. His family is revolted and disgusted. And in the end he ends up dying and nobody really cares, not even his own family. I most deffinetly did not like this story. It was mean, hurtful, and rather confusing.
How can one man devot his entire life to please his family and supporting them, and when one thing goes wrong they just drop him like a hot potatoe??? I think thats absolutely insane. And to top it all off, there's no moral to the story. Nobody realizes their wrong doings or tries to justify themselves. Gregor dies, nobody cries, and in the end his sister is the first to rise. Its absurd! But that's just my opinion.
On another note the story is so drawn out. Kafka packs so much detail in this little story that one you're halfway through you feel like you're drowning in a sea of spam and gummy worms. Which I personally haven't experienced. But I have had a bucket of spam dumped on my head... and I have had the misfortune to have choked on a gummy worm. So I figure if you put two and two together you kind of get the feeling of drowning in a sea of it all.
But of course this is just my personal opinion on the story. I totally respect the opinions of the other people of the world who happen to like this story. It takes a very open mind and... well the ability to swim in a sea of spam and gummy worms... but HEY! who doesn't like gummy worms!?!?
Love,
Alex
How can one man devot his entire life to please his family and supporting them, and when one thing goes wrong they just drop him like a hot potatoe??? I think thats absolutely insane. And to top it all off, there's no moral to the story. Nobody realizes their wrong doings or tries to justify themselves. Gregor dies, nobody cries, and in the end his sister is the first to rise. Its absurd! But that's just my opinion.
On another note the story is so drawn out. Kafka packs so much detail in this little story that one you're halfway through you feel like you're drowning in a sea of spam and gummy worms. Which I personally haven't experienced. But I have had a bucket of spam dumped on my head... and I have had the misfortune to have choked on a gummy worm. So I figure if you put two and two together you kind of get the feeling of drowning in a sea of it all.
But of course this is just my personal opinion on the story. I totally respect the opinions of the other people of the world who happen to like this story. It takes a very open mind and... well the ability to swim in a sea of spam and gummy worms... but HEY! who doesn't like gummy worms!?!?
Love,
Alex
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
This man is my HERO!
FERNANDO TORRES. If youc an do half the stuff this man does on a daily basis, let me know!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_wIjJjOuNk
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_wIjJjOuNk
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