Mal12345
Permabanned
- Joined
- Apr 19, 2011
- Messages
- 14,532
- MBTI Type
- IxTP
- Enneagram
- 5w4
- Instinctual Variant
- sx/sp
From the book "Final Impact" by John Birmingham:
A born conservative, even as a kid in the projects he’d never had time for politically correct bullshit.
In his America men and women, black or white, got the chance to make a success out of life. And if
they didn’t succeed, it was probably their own fucking fault. He’d gotten no special treatment from the
corps, but he’d suffered no discrimination, either. Every decoration he had pinned to his dress
uniform had been honestly earned, mostly by killing people who badly needed it. The Bible at his
bedside table had lain beside his daddy’s pillow, and like his daddy he allowed himself one reading
every night that it was possible, starting at Genesis and slowly working his way through to
Revelation, before going back and starting all over again.
He had supported the same baseball team - the Cubs - for thirty-five years. The same basketball team - the
Bulls - for thirty-six. He loved his country, his corps, his friends, and his family, most especially
his wife who was, as he never tired of telling people, as white as the Grand Cyclops of the Ku Klux
Klan. By way of contrast General J. Lonesome Jones disliked whining left-wingers, network news
broadcasts, and steamed brussels sprouts all about equally.
He wasn’t the sort who saw himself as the victim of anything.
Yet nearly every time he had to deal with the ‘temps, it seemed like he was instantly cast in bronze as
the object of their fear and loathing. At the very best they treated him with a stiff reserve. That was
the standard response whenever task force business took him down to Camp Pendleton to meet with
the “old†Marine Corps brass. He was treated with courtesy, and every formality due his rank. But
never once were the informalities observed. Even after Hawaii, he’d never been invited to take a
drink or share a meal with anyone at Pendleton.
Jones pressed his lips together as his boots crunched along the gravel path. The insults to his own
dignity he could suffer in silence. He didn’t give a shit about the opinions of ignorant assholes. But
the endless shitcanning of his marines was intolerable.