Just got the iPhone app for WordPress; let’s see what this baby can do!

Today I was up awake late when I caught Lou Dobbs’s show on CNN. I’m not a regular watcher of CNN, but I know of his rants against illegal immigration and his call to protect the borders. Today’s commentary included  how the “open borders lobby” is happily awaiting the inauguration of Barack Obama, so they can further their agenda, etc. etc. Plus they included a clip of the drug cartel violence happening in northern Mexico, in cities close to the US border.

Soon after I tried to go to sleep, but the words “you nativist prick” kept on ringing in my head. So I’m writing this post.

I’m definitely one of those card-carrying open borders advocates. I don’t discount the need for documentation and security precautions, but I know the vast majority of people who do come to the United States are seeking honest work. Can’t say I’m very impartial on this subject, since I’m the son of immigrants from the Philippines who created a very successful business here in San Francisco. I’d like to believe that 99.99% of all immigrants (legal and undocumented) fit the description of hardworking and dedicated.

Ever since I’ve studied a bit of economics over the past few years, I do agree with global capitalism’s belief that capital should travel freely from place to place, going to where it is needed or wanted. But capital should not only include dollars, euros, etc.; it should also include human capital. People in the world should have the freedom to work where they want, within reasonable bounds. Obviously I’m not looking for terrorists to travel unfettered from one continent to the next, but I believe the fear of terrorism and an over-emphasis on security have led to our entry processes for immigrants being too restrictive.

I believe that immigrants as a whole benefit the United States vastly more than the costs. One could say that the increased demand for consumer goods and services created by immigrants creates new jobs to fulfill that demand. While it is very possible that wages can be driven downward due to increased job market competition by an influx of immigrants (particularly in low-wage jobs), I think a zero-sum competition model for jobs, where a native-born American loses out when a immigrant finds a job here in the U.S., is too simplistic and pessimistic.

When it comes to high-skill careers and college/graduate students wanting to study here, we should be breaking down obstacles to their entry to America, not making new ones. Who’s going to keep Medicare and Social Security going with their payroll tax deductions? That’s right: immigrants.

I think that’s it for now. Haven’t been this worked up in a while.

This close to the end. Why am I not more excited?

I know I haven’t written much. Partly it’s been OPSEC (operational security), partly it’s my ability to vent personally via phone, email, and IM. Really though, it’s been an uneventful deployment. As far as my battery goes, it’s been 1 IED discovered, 1 IED detonation, and a ton of unverified reports. At my level, you really never see the big picture. My news of what’s happening in Anbar and greater Iraq comes from the Stars and Stripes (a newspaper for servicemembers) and news on the internet. I’d be almost clueless otherwise.

But still, this close to the end, and I’m numb. Going through the motions: wake up, work, eat, sleep. Knowing I’ll be home in a few weeks doesn’t excite me like it should.

Maybe it’s just a slow week, a down period.

I’m wondering how it will be like when I get back? I think I’ll need to take things slow…not try to do everything at once and catch up without being able to handle things.

I’ve thought about this often: have I changed during this activation, while the world’s stood still? Or has the world changed, while I’ve stayed constant? I believe now I’ve just traveled on a separate path that’s diverged from what I’ve known–and putting myself back in that world will take some adjusting.

I just hope that adjustment won’t be too jarring or painful. 

Hope this numbness will pass. Do what needs to be done here–finish up strong.

I never thought ice-cold water could taste so good–until I came to Iraq. 

Oh yes, we have ice here. I think it’s shipped from the airbase at Al Asad in refrigerated containers. Your tax dollars at work.

Four months into this deployment. Eight months on active duty, wearing my Marine Corps uniform. It’s hard to believe I’ve been in this “on duty” mindset this long. The only other time I’ve been on active duty for this length of time was for boot camp and the follow-on training schools, and I was thinking like a recruit and a private back then. Now I have much more responsibility–and authority too.

I remarked to another Marine in the work hut today how my reserves of patience have been sorely reduced. I used to handle much more B.S. in the day before I got irritated. Now, it only takes one piece of bad news to get me thinking “uggghhhhhh….” Unfortunately, it’s like that with many of the other folks here as well. Maybe it’s the same routine each day, the lack of a dedicated day off ever, I really don’t know. I believe I wouldn’t be thinking this if more action was happening here in our AO (area of operations). Then again, slow and boring should be considered a good thing.

So, what have I been doing to fill the rest of my time, when I’m not making rosters and pushing paper? I’m currently midway through season 6 of The Sopranos–perhaps my lack of patience nowadays has something to do with Tony Soprano’s tendency to choke his problems–literally. Also just watched the first episode of HBO’s Generation Kill last week; I must say, as a Marine, I was impressed by the accuracy and the “real-ness” shown in it. I was also impressed by how quickly the tech-powers that be on this base tracked down a good quality copy of the episode. 

My brother had sent me my copy of Generation Kill (the book) a few months back–read through that book again pretty quickly after watching the episode. I’ve worked through a few other books: Panzer General by Heinz Guderian, to fill my World War II fix; The Assassin’s Gate, a history of the invasion and the aftermath, with much on the perspectives of Iraqis during the chaos; currently working through In the Company of Soldiers (about the 101st Airborne and their part in Iraq) and Angela’s Ashes–somehow I had found this in a give-away box in another office, and so far it’s a funny read–even with all the misery growing up in Ireland and all. Then there’s all my copies of the Economist and the Marine Corps Times. One issue of the Economist, read in detail, can take me a week (maybe 3-4 hours if read in one sitting).

I know I’ve read a few more books: Dune, Founding Brothers, The Firm…I know I’d be able to work through more if I had less on my plate.

Hope you’re enjoying your 4th of July back home! For me, it was my 3rd Independence Day I spent with the Marines–so, another work day, with perks. They did have steak and lobster in the chow hall; can’t complain about that. 

Earlier this week we had a dust storm roll through. Not a major one, but our Marines were working 12 hour shifts, instead of 8. With all the briefings and transport time, it goes up to a 14+ hour work day, so we were all exhausted when the dust lifted after 2 days.

Some conversations overheard the last few days:

Marine 1: “Got anything to read?”

Marine 2: “Yep.”

Marine 1: “Still got that issue of Cosmo?”

Marine 2: “Uh-huh.”

Marine 1: ”Can I look at it?”

Marine 2: “Sure.” 

(pause)

Marine 1: “It’s that kind of deployment.”

AND (in response to some paperwork in progress):

“Give it to me in the can later tonight.”

You just can’t make up this junk.

In 3 months from now, I’ll be leaving this place. Other than that new thought, I’m up to the regular routine: chow, working in the shack, chugging down water to stave off the 110+ temps, and using my free time to read and watch movies and TV shows. 

Just transferred my albums of The Roots to my MacBook Pro’s iTunes library. My whole music collection is stored in my iPod, not my hard drive, and I’ve been lagging in putting my most played music on the computer, so I can jam while writing emails or working on documents. I’m glad I did–for some reason I haven’t played any Roots tracks in a while. Sometimes having a 40 GB+ audio library isn’t helpful–the jewels get buried under all the new music. Playing The Roots reminds me why they’re the hip-hop band. And why they’re even better live.

Lately I’ve been working through episodes of The Sopranos. The base here has a share drive with all sorts of video, including all six seasons of the show. I figure the next few months will give me ample time to finish the whole series.

How to describe the heat here…somehow I thought that above 100˚F, hot just means hot. No way. First off, if we had a day that was merely 100, it would feel much cooler than how I’m feeling right now. Effects such as a clear day for the sun’s beating rays, or high winds also play a role–when the wind’s blowing today, say, it feels like a giant hair dryer’s been put in front of you.  If I can think of better similes and metaphors, I’ll be sure to write them down.

Gonna keep this one short–sometimes, there just isn’t much to say. Until next time.

Departure date: 25 to 30 September, 2008. 

We received this news a few weeks back. It was welcome news to hear, knowing the end date to this adventure I’m experiencing. We’re almost at our halfway mark now, but lately it feels a long way off, like this run just started. Generally, halfway markers re-energize me to push forward to the end, such as on a long run or working through school. But when you think about that halfway point, just making it to that marker becomes your struggle of the moment, and it drags on you. (I’m hoping I’m making sense, and not just ranting…)

This past week has definitely been a low one. Not sure if it’s the lowest, but it’s definitely more down than normal. I felt ill with a cold earlier in the week, so getting through the heat feeling stuffy and sore wasn’t easy. Somehow feeling sick is easier when it’s cold outside than when it’s hot–the idea of laying down and bundling up in a blanket makes sense when it’s chilly versus the temperature being scalding hot. In any case, being sick makes me generally unsociable. In addition, when you see and work with the same people day in and day out, for over 3 months (some of them up to 6 months or more) without weekends or vacation time, it can wear on you. For someone more on the introverted side, such as myself, self-time is necessary–when you don’t have to socialize. It allows me to focus on myself, what I need to do, and enjoy what I like. You don’t get much time alone outside of sleeping here–but I will admit, I do get more than if I had a different mission here.

Now I’m feeling better–but I’ve also been off the PT track for the past few days as well. I can’t tell if I’ve lost or gained weight because of it, but another Marine on my shift slapped my belly and said “hit the gym in a while”? It was in fun, and it didn’t bother me too much, but since my roommate is more of a PT stud than myself, it reminded me that I could be doing more. I’m mostly accepted my average physical shape–my qualities are more mental and social–but knowing that my dad got more overweight as he approached middle age isn’t a comforting thought.

Life here, besides the hardships of being away from the U.S., isn’t hard. It really is a game–if you learn the rules and play by them, you get through it easily. If you do something stupid, it’s really easy to get noticed and corrected. 

Maybe it’s the thought of returning to the World, assuming my civilian persona again (instead of my Marine persona), and facing my career dilemma once more–now perhaps that’s what’s REALLY bothering me.

I found this old post in my hard drive today. I don’t know if it’s on the net anywhere, so I decided to repost it, along with some commentary. Most of it is still a good reflection of what I believe. Enjoy.

Being in the Military: June 5, 2005

My students, co-workers, and friends often ask me why I’m in the military: why I joined, why I stay in even when I bitch about it, why I do it even when my personal politics often conflict with our current defense policy. My political beliefs confound my Marine comrades, who wonder why a “liberal” would join a largely conservative institution. (I prefer the term “leftist” personally–it sounds more violent and aggressive-sounding than “liberal.”) It’s about time I asked myself these questions again, and about time that I answer them.

Note: I’ve come to terms with the liberal label, and I realize now my politics are much more complicated than the labels “conservative” or “liberal.” Reading up on economics and finance has brought me closer to center on many issues related to business and the economy, but socially I’m definitely to the left. Foreign affairs is a complicated mess that I won’t deal with quite yet.

At the time I joined, I wasn’t in the best personal state. This time was February 2003–my dad passed away just a year before, I had been back in San Francisco for half a year after being fired from a research job in Washington D.C., and I was underemployed and at a loss on what to pursue next career-wise. I had come to the belief that I need to experience life to the fullest extent possible before my time was up, since my dad died before reaching the age of 54. I had never experienced real military service–I had JROTC in high school and had earned a college ROTC scholarship, but my college years had pushed the military path aside. Now, in 2003, the lack of rewarding work and that desire to experience something radically different was pushing me toward enlisting.

Some background: I grew up being a military junkie. I read, watched, listened, and thought about anything and everything military- and war-related. History, tactics, specifications, nomenclature, etc….it was all fascinating to me. Even fantasy and science-fiction conflicts grabbed my interest. My favorite period of history was World War II–the first two books I recall reading (or just picture-looking) about WWII were in first grade. Then, any other period of history I would study would specifically focus on that culture’s military history: the Romans, feudal Japan, the Aztecs, and so on. No wonder one of my friends called me a “warmonger.” I took it as an insult at the time, but he was probably right. My consciousness of the mayhem, suffering, and death caused by war and conflict did not take hold until I matured a bit. Battles were seen by my pre-teen self as honorable, glorious events where real men earned respect, praise, and glory.

In any case, I wasn’t clueless about what I would be getting into as a new recruit. I read books, checked websites, and talked to friends in the Marine Corps (the branch I eventually joined). All that was left was taking the plunge and going. Once I was hustled on that bus at San Diego Airport with my head between my legs, I knew I was committed. (Yellow footprints, anyone?)

Now I’m in, I’ve fulfilled 2 years and 3 months of my 6 year contract as a Marine Corps reservist, and a possible activation still looms. A few Marines in my unit will be headed over to Iraq and Kuwait by August. So why am I still in? Why do I personally disagree with this occupation of Iraq and Afghanistan but still faithfully perform my service until my time is up?

Note: I’m at 5+ years completed, and I’m currently in Iraq, still serving faithfully.

My students often ask me: “Can you quit? Can you leave?” The short answer is no. I signed a contract for my service, and I must honor it. Any breach of that contract is punishable by law. Not showing up for military training is called many things: AWOL (Absent Without Leave), UA (Unauthorized Absence), or if it’s really bad, they call it desertion. All of these will result in punishment under the Uniform Code of Military Justice (the UCMJ). Now, there are possibilities that one can be separated or discharged from the service in a less negative manner, but they require major paperwork and/or pressing circumstances: conscientious objector, work related-injury, economic hardship, and a few others. I’m not quite there in the C.O. category…yet.

Note: I’m still not in the C.O. category, and barring a real shift in American foreign policy to the worse, I probably won’t be.

I don’t even know if I’m that unsatisfied to leave. I do complain about my training weekends: the boredom, the conflicts with personal events and parties, the late dismissal times, the long drives through traffic to Stockton, and so on. Yet in every unit, in every group of Marines that I’ve been assigned to, there’s this shared “camaraderie of misery”, as I call it. Because you’re suffering together with other Marines, the bullshit you deal with becomes slightly more bearable. Plus, you gain the right to talk about it later as a “war story,” often when you’re bored at another Marine training weekend, waiting for more bullshit to happen.

I also get the opportunity to develop my leadership skills. Granted, most drill weekends I’d rather hang back and stay out of sight, since nails that stick up get hammered down…. Yet I see that if you want to get promoted faster, it helps to get recognized, and to do that, you need to stand up, take some initiative, and start being a leader. As a teacher, I have to lead–I plan the curriculum, I manage the classroom, and so on. Doing tasks as a Marine should be baby stuff. If you’re not giving orders, you’re going to end up taking them.

Note: I’m no longer a teacher, but the observations still apply wherever I go for my next career.

Yet I am a critic of the United States’ current foreign and military policies (tactfully, I don’t share many of my views during my drill weekend…you could call it cowardice, but I call it survival). I’ve read too much Chalmers Johnson, Kevin Phillips, and Mother Jones magazine; and listened to too much NPR, Pacifica Radio, and BBC News to have much faith or trust in the current administration. Nor do I trust that the Democratic opposition will do much to change our current path toward greater hegemony over the world. Rome was once a great empire, then it fell. So was the British Empire. We in the U.S. don’t want to believe that we have an empire or have imperial ambitions or aspirations, but to many others in the world, the facts are patently clear. 

Note: I’m waiting to see if our next president will continue the status quo or do something drastically different and new in foreign policy.

Our military, in partnership with friendly nations or otherwise, is all over the globe, on every continent, in places where Americans least suspect (or unable to locate on a map, for that matter). Our economic power is exercised through the World Bank, the IMF, the WTO, and our multinational corporations. And our cultural power is evident in our media, our superstars, and in McDonalds, among other icons. Any person with basic experience playing a strategy game such as Civilization can tell you that our presence in the Middle East is predicated on oil (in general, the control of energy sources). This is decades-old policy for the United States. With the rising price of oil, the oil sands of Alberta, Canada are now being eyed by U.S. companies and the administration, and recent Chinese advances toward Canadian oil are possible threats to our control of energy. 

So now I may end up doing more than merely defending the United States from all enemies, foreign or domestic; I am a legionnaire in America’s imperialistic ambitions. I am offended by this state of affairs, more so because I know that a century ago, the United States was involved in a insurgency war against my ancestors in the Philippines. This conflict, the Philippine-American War, followed the Spanish-American War, and it started a legacy of American intervention including colonialism and neo-colonialism, in Filipino affairs, which continues to this day. Am I a tool, a cog, in the military machine? I guess I am….

Yet we should realize that policy is advanced by the civilian leadership in the Pentagon and the White House. Politicians make the wars; we end up fighting them. That’s the state of affairs in history, especially the United States. Fortunately the military does not run the government here (although the future leaves anything possible). Not to say that military leaders have an influence on possible conflicts also, but I can reasonably say that many service members (especially reservists) aren’t particularly looking forward to fighting another war far away from home and family. If we don’t want to be at a drill weekend for 2 days, would we want to be in the middle of the desert or the jungle for 9-18 months?

Note: Looks like this tour is only 6 months long–more on that later.

And in the end, if I just got up and quit, I would let down my fellow Marines. We are a dysfunctional family, the U.S. Marine Corps. The politics becomes less relevant when you’re just wanting to finish the job as soon as possible with your fellow mates. 

What will happen the next few years? Will I get activated? Possibly. Would I go? I wouldn’t want to, but I would go, and I would give it all my effort. Would I re-enlist or take the officer path? I really don’t know. I just live life as it happens, and I enjoy the ride.

Note: I still don’t know.

I’ve been here in Iraq almost 2 months. My 8 week mark passed on Sunday, 1 June. It feels like I’ve been here forever, but the days have been going by quickly–and I’m not going to complain about that. Rumors fly that we’ll be going home earlier than our original November date, but again I’m not going to hold my breath. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best; the Marine Corps has taught me well.

Each day on duty here has been very similar. Besides the bustle of getting on deck and settling into our new positions, life has settled into a predictable routine. Recently, I spent three days on a guard tower instead of working in the guard shack, doing sentry duty for a Marine attending a vehicle class. It was a welcome change of pace–when I wasn’t on watch, I could catch up on my reading and Sudoku. Plus the administrative issues and paperwork stayed away for a few days. But for my Marines who have been on a tower for the last 2 months, 8 hours a day, every day–somehow, they’re still holding up OK. I don’t forsee any change in the schedule or mission for now.

What’s been getting to me (irking me may be a more accurate term) is the lack of freedom or mobility I have in my Marine life versus my civilian life back home. My life revolves around very few locations: my sleeping can, the chow hall, the work shack, and the phone/internet center. Sometimes the gym. There’s a few more MWR (morale, welfare, and recreation) facilities here at TQ that I can use, as well as the PX, but I only do that occassionally. Everything I can go to on my free time, and much of my work time, fits within a 1 mile-diameter circle. Now, in my civilian life, most of my time was also spent at home (sleeping, resting, eating, hanging out) or at work–but it’s the variety of choices in my free time that clearly defines the difference between being at home and being deployed. No In-N-Out Burger. No OSHA Thai. No John Colins. No shooting pool at Thalassa across the Bay with my buddies, followed by a late night run to Top Dog.

And no alcohol. No beer; no glasses of shiraz; no vodka gimlets. Arrgh!

But I get by. Somehow, with my reading and my MacBook Pro as my all-purpose entertainment system, I get by.

I was online earlier this week, and I saw pictures of the recent graduation ceremonies at Convent of the Sacred Heart High School, my former teaching home. This marks a full year that I’ve stepped away from teaching to pursue other things–and knowing another class has moved on tugged my heart a bit. Couldn’t say my goodbyes in person–but I think I’ll run into a few of those students in the future sometime.

Well, I think I’ve drained my “brain housing group” of thoughts for the time being. I’ll try to hit back sooner rather than later.

We just flew the black flag at the aid station yesterday. For the uninitiated, a black flag means that it’s frakkin’ hot. Balls hot. Hot enough that you’ll be a heat casualty in no time if you’re not hydrating like a mo-fo. And if you’re wearing body armor, kevlar, or MOPP (chemical warfare) gear, you’re doubly screwed. Temperatures at TQ reached 115+ yesterday. It felt like God opened up his oven to check on his dinner–you just feel enveloped in the heat. It’s not even June yet.