Hollywood vs. Everyone Else

I had the pleasure of watching a fantastic movie on Turner Classic Movies last night: “Stage Door Canteen” from 1943. It was a good look at famous film and stage stars serving what could very likely be the last meal in the States for a lot of servicemen and women before heading overseas. The movie was set in New York and followed an Army dog nicknamed “Dakota” as he wooed a very minor starlet whose last stage appearance consisted of four whole lines.

The story was pretty korny to say the least, but that’s not why I stayed up to watch it. The underlying message went way beyond the pale ghost of a plot, and one needn’t be a rocket scientist to get it. The crux of the tale was that actors and actresses, producers, directors, and even stage hands volunteered their time, which was often at a premium, to give one last little bit of comfort to those who were on their way to do a very serious and dangerous job. Everyone was well aware that the face of the soldier, airman, Marine, or sailor might never make it back to these shores when all the poop stopped hitting the fan. There was a genuine respect for those servicemen, and you could tell by watching the movie that respect went far beyond the acting portrayed on celluloid.

Watch some of the old newsreels; you can tell that stars gave their time freely and happily because they knew they were doing something nice for someone who might not make it home. Bob Hope led the USO overseas, sometimes even within range of German and Japanese guns (the big ones, mind you, not the standard field variety) to bring some little spark of home to those folks. Sure the movies touted their success with films like “Stage Door Canteen” and others, but you won’t find a serviceman today who wasn’t damned glad to see them, who knew that those stars were WAY out of their comfort zone all to bring some little bit of comfort to them.

So what happened? No, not in “Stage Door Canteen,” I mean with Hollywood. There were plenty of stars back in the 1940’s who didn’t agree with our involvement in World War II, but at least they didn’t speak out against our efforts to win it, as opposed to today.

Today it seems Hollywood can’t wait to get out there and torpedo our efforts. I’m not talking about abrogating one’s right to freedom of speech; if you disagree with what’s being done you have the right to say so, but for God’s sake, don’t crawl up on a soap box and for all intents and purposes encourage the enemy, Streisand, Clooney, Dixie Chicks, Sarandon, Garafalo, Moore, etc.

Every time someone goes on the news and lambasts Bush, Rumsfeld, the military, or the war effort, the Bad Guys hear it. In this day and age, information goes to all corners of the world and in seconds. Back in the 1940’s, the Bad Guys had to rely on watching the same newsreels and radio programs that everyone else did, and those were edited, prepped, and censored to give one message: the People of the United States are united in kicking your measly, fascist asses and handing them to you.

So why can’t we at least unite and get that message across, if not to ourselves, then to the Bad Guys who are listening in? Our servicemen and women are just as determined to find the terrorists of the world and hand them their collective Islamo-fascist asses as we were back in 1943, but you’d never know it to listen to Hollywood.

Thanks to the Jane Fondas of the world, Hollywood seems to think it’s not only harmless but laudable to stand up and send a message of divisiveness to the world. They don’t seem to understand that although one has the right to say what one wishes, responsible thought should tell you that it isn’t always prudent to do so.

As such, I shall withhold my good, Yankee dollars from such ingrates: I do not own a single CD by the Dixie Chicks. I will never purchase another George Clooney DVD, Sean Penn DVD, anything with Martin Sheen in it, or go to any movie with said irresponsible and unappreciative shitbirds starring in it, at least until they grow up and realize that verbal tantrums don't help their respective political platform so much as they’re getting my brothers and sisters in arms killed.

Semper Fi,
The Almighty Mattski

About Damned Time...

I'll say it now, much to the ire of my Democrat friends: Way to go Dick Cheney!

Ever since 2002, the more vocal Democratic leadership along with the nutty Left (as opposed to the sensible Left - yes, there are some) have chanted incessantly about how Saddam and "peace" should have been given a chance. Now these gits have the audacity to say we never should have gone into Iraq in the first place; that somehow, the world was safer when Saddam the nutball and his rape-room sons were in charge.

Enter Dick Cheney:
"And the suggestion that's been made by some U.S. senators that the President of the United States or any member of this Administration purposely misled the American people on prewar intelligence is one of the most dishonest and reprehensible charges ever aired in this city. Some of the most irresponsible comments have, of course, come from politicians who actually voted in favor of authorizing force against Saddam Hussein. These are elected officials who had access to the intelligence, and were free to draw their own conclusions."
(Tip o’ the hat to Neal Boortz - emphasis mine)

About damned time someone in the Administration actually said what a lot of us out here are thinking. You know the press isn’t going to say it (see The Media And Why It Sucks), and none of the Democrats except perhaps Joe Lieberman and Zell Miller would call them on it. Granted it took HOW long before this happened?

Word to the uninitiated: I am not a hands-down supporter of George Bush. There are plenty of things I disagree with him over, primary of which are his lack of an intelligent approach to tax reform, his immigration policy, the "free drugs for seniors" program, and cronyism, but as far as I’m concerned, he hit the whole War On Terror nail on the head. Bush had the testicular fortitude to do what his predecessor, Bill “I-Got-Head-In-The-White-House” Clinton, didn’t. If Clinton had done more than lob one or two cruise missiles after Somalia, Kenya, and the Kobar Tower incidents, September 11th might not have ever happened. Instead, he showed the world a weak, spineless nation led by an even weaker more spineless do-nothing that failed to take the threat of international terrorism seriously.

The Bush Administration showed a lot of spine in the days following September 11th; why did it go to Jello™ since? Blowhard Democrats like Kennedy, Reid, Pelosi, and Byrd stood and blatantly lied about “how things were” and the Administration has been letting them get away with it. Thankfully, Dick Cheney has the marbles to call it like it is. This Administration would be in a lot less hot water if they would simply call these worthless Socialists on their bunk and hoist them on their own petards.

Would I LIKE to see that happen? You’d better believe it. Am I expecting that to happen? Not even “maybe.” The Democrats are having a field day pointing out Bush’s shortcomings which, so long as they’re valid criticisms, I am all for. So let’s see the Administration start pointing out these Democrats’ shortcomings, lies, and misrepresentations as well.

I am calling for equal opportunity; ANY politician, be it Democrat or Republican, not only is entitled to but deserves our disgust and ire when they pull this kind of crap. We as Americans deserve no less. I’m just happy to see some of the tables turn, if only this once.

Semper Fi,
The Almighty Mattski

This Most Wonderful Of Days...

10 November 1775 was a terrible day for a lot of people.

To my knowledge, 10 November was never celebrated among the pirates of the Barbary Coast, the Mexicans, the Germans, the French (except in 1918), the Spanish, the Moro, the Japanese, the North Koreans, the Chinese, the Communist Vietnamese, the Syrians, the Cubans, the Baathists, and Al Qaeda. Nor has it ever been celebrated by the bedwetting maggots who infest the fair cities of this land chanting "give peace a chance," and "no war for oil."

Fuck 'em.

There are people in this world, and in this country in particular, who don’t appreciate that freedom and liberty must be defended; that one cannot embrace principles unless one is willing to fight to preserve them some times. Thankfully, there are those, my brothers and sisters, who do. Today is their day.

On that day our Continental Congress passed a simple resolution creating one of the proudest and most illustrious traditions of any military service on the globe, over which perches an eagle, and behind which lies an anchor. That tradition was carved and honed by every man that ever fired a musket from the tops of a frigate, assaulted a Japanese held island, stifled a Chinese assault over frozen hills, and it continues to be stamped out by the men and women who carry a weapon through the sands and mountains of Iraq and Afghanistan today. Today is a day that all of us who wear, have worn, and who shall some day wear that symbol of freedom and loyalty, celebrate that act of Congress which gave us our place in the world. Our motto itself bespeaks an undying allegiance to the principles under which this country was founded: Semper Fidelis, Always Faithful.

The entire world knows and respects the United States Marine Corps. The Germans, who only once had to stand against my beloved Corps, and even then for only a few months, to this day utter the title with awed reverence. I once had a German friend who, when he found out I had served in the Marines, asked me if I spit napalm. I answered "Ne, scheiße..." He laughed, though a bit unsure as to whether I was telling the truth. Another German friend of mine, who treated me to a trip to a pistol range, told the RSO behind my back as I was about to fire: “Watch this, this is my friend from America. He’s a Marine.” That, ladies and gentlemen, is respect.

That respect has not come cheaply, however. I can personally point to three names that I know on a wall at Camp Lejeune, a monument to those that perished in Beirut in 1983 trying to bring peace to a severely troubled land. I had the honor of meeting my Marine Corps figurative “grandfather,” a man who drove Amtracs (Amphibious Tracked Vehicles, to the uninitiated) at Tarawa, whose first day on that scrubby atoll cost him 90% of the friends in his unit, the 2nd Tracked Vehicle Battalion. I served in the 4th Assault Amphib Battalion, one of four grandchildren to the men and vehicles that created and perfected the role of amphibious assault in the Pacific during World War II.

Nothing has shaped and molded me to be a more loyal, more astute, and more confident person than my days as a Marine. I served in a time that being in the military was frowned upon. I was just another olive-clad lackey of Ronald Reagan, a has-been holdover from an unpopular war. I was on standby for the first Gulf War, but am today too old for the second. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t go if the recruiters would let me. Believe me, I’ve tried.

Don’t put too much faith in that movie “Jarhead.” I read the book; put it down after five pages. I have yet to see the flick but I will, even though I am well aware that Hollywood will use it to malign my beloved Corps and all who serve in it, ridiculing their dedication to accomplish a difficult and sometimes impossible mission, their love of their country, and their dedication to one another. I do not refer to my fellow Marines as brothers and sisters for nothing. (The term “Jarhead” originated as a moniker of derision by a bunch of Squids, but is now a proud epithet. Marines once got into fights over being called “Jarheads,” now we call each other that.)

Marines lead a hard life. They are usually the “first to go and last to know.” They get shot at, blown up, cursed at, spit upon, and ridiculed, but even after such derision, the United States Marine Corps continues to defend even those who mock them. Marines build schools. Marines care for children who have the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Marines deliver food to areas of the world where the All Righteous And Benevolent United Nations fear to go. Most importantly, Marines will cut the throat of any scum-sucking maggot who oppresses or threatens the rights of others to live in a free world.

So, this greeting goes out to my fellow Jarheads, to Tom Fasulo, an entomologist who once slogged through the jungles of Viet Nam, to George Haggard, a firefighter for NASA who was wounded at Chosin Reservoir, to David and Lee Wilson, two fine young men that I reenacted with and who have both just recently returned from Iraq, and to anyone and everyone who wears, wore, or will wear the eagle, globe, and anchor. These people gave this country their time and service, some of them gave their lives, but all of them assisted in establishing the United States Marine Corps as the finest fighting force on the planet, worthy of the respect of nations, and the fear of the enemies to peace and liberty.

Happy Birthday, Marines. Here’s to another year!

Semper Fi,
The Almighty Mattski


PS - In the words of my Senior Drill Instructor, SSgt T. Gerhardt, Jr.: "God bless mommy, God bless daddy, and God bless Chesty Puller, where ever he is."

Here's To Chris

Good morning!

I just wanted to apologize for not posting anything these past coupla weeks. I had a very dear friend of mine pass away from cancer and I just didn't have quite the same bounce in my step. He was about half my age.

Chris was diagnosed with Clark's Type II Melanoma about 18-months ago, and it went through his system like a hot knife through butter. Yet, not once did he take a dim view or take it out on anyone around him. Chris always had a genuine and beaming smile, no matter how hard a day he'd had. He will always have a special place craved out in my heart.

He left behind a wife of less than a year, both parents who, although they are hurting, remain strong and loving, an older sister, and a younger brother, all of whom have our undying love and support for what they are going through today.

God bless you, Chris, and thank you for having added so much to our lives! We will miss you so very much.

Semper Fi,
The Almighty Mattski