From the San Francisco book review: http://citybookreview.com/2011/11/spellbound-book-ii-of-the-grimnoir-chronicles/ Good positive review for Spellbound.
I’m telling you guys. I get written off as “pulp” and not “literary”, whatever the hell that means, but there is no reason that a book filled with action and adventure can’t be deep. All of you WorldCon attendees need to nominate Hard Magic for the Hugo.
Here is a cool page by a friend of mine that I’ve been meaning to link to. For a great example of this page, check out Empire Fail: Why did Rome Fall http://minimumwagehistorian.wordpress.com/2011/11/27/empire-fail-why-did-rome-fall/
The parrallels are pretty awesome.
For those of you familiar with the game setting, a few events occured without Makoto’s knowledge. The magic mirror that Kitsuki Tsuze is given is one of the Oni’s Tears, a magical communication device. The players are unaware who is actually communicating through it, but it is more than likely the Kolat, a gigantic conspiracy that wants to overthrow the empire.
Zukozuko was healed from his burns by one of the Spider clan leaders named Fosuta. The Spider clan is aware that Zukozuko is actually a wanted criminal/former Togashi monk, and are trying to recruit them. For those of you that aren’t familiar, the Spider clan actually work for the lord of evil in secret, but right now are pretending to be heroic good guys in order to get everyone to like them and to infiltrate the empire.
There was a whole lot of intrigue and politics going on during this session, but sadly, the only game journal came from the character who is the most oblivious to that sort of thing.
From the journal of Hida Makoto, Crab Clan.
Today I had to knock my lord unconscious in order to protect his dignity. It was either that or let him embarrass himself further. Mother will probably be displeased, but as of now I do not know which one of us she will be more angry with. Him for being a drunken idiot, or me for usurping his authority because he has the right to be a drunken idiot.
First I must catch up. My companions and I spent the morning after the battle searching for clues as to who had substituted the battle map. Ide Todo had been called in to speak with the Unicorn Clan Champion. Because of his success in gathering reinforcements for the war, and his diplomacy in the battle tent this morning, he has been appointed to the office of clan magistrate. Normally, this would be cause for celebration, but all I could focus on was how we could use his new status to track down the traitor.
One of the Kuni shugenja communed with the kami around the battle tent. The water kami was most helpful, and said that a ‘white bird’ had been the last to do anything around the map table. This was most interesting, because it then referred to Kitsuki Tsuze as a big lizard and Ide Todo as a pointy horse. There are no Crane forces in the combined armies defending Shiro Shinjo, and certainly none in the battle tent. I do not know what the Crane have to gain for sabotaging the war effort, but it is a clue.
Later that afternoon I was summoned to Kenzan’s tent. He had been stripped of command and O-Hinku had been placed in charge of Crab forces, so I knew that my brother would be in a foul mood. Not only was he angry, he was also rather drunk, and Kenzan can be very mean when he is drunk. I knew that this would be unpleasant.
“Do you know why we failed this morning?” he asked.
“Someone tampered with your maps? I promised to find the traitor, and I will.”
“Not that… Everything was fine until you came along.”
I grimaced for I knew exactly what was coming.
“Some of the men say you’re bad luck. I think they’re right.” His words are slurred. He is stupid with drink.
I love my brother. He is a good man that is befuddled by failure. He is not familiar with failure like I am. This is the sake talking, or perhaps from the stink some foul fermented draught a Unicorn milked out of a horse. I bite my tongue. I will keep my place in the celestial order. I will not smash his idiot face in. But things have changed since I left home. Before I would have bore his words in silence, but I can them no longer. Against my better judgment, I speak in my defense. “You heard of my performance on the battlefield. Your defeat would have been worse if it hadn’t been for me.”
“No!” and then began a tirade against me, against my cowardly father, against my entire line. He insulted me, mocked me. It took all of my willpower not to club him, but I have heard these things before. I am a blight, a curse. Of course I have heard these things, just never from him, and never like this. Two Crab guards came to see what the commotion was, and they just stood to the side with their heads bowed as their leader ranted, pretending not to listen.
I could not help myself. I argued back. I will no longer bear my father’s shame. He was the coward. Not me.
Then Kenzan shocked me. “I challenge you to a duel!”
“To the death!”
This was certainly a new development. Iajutsu is a Crane art, like flower arranging. I have no skill in either. Kenzan is a far superior swordsman, but I have no doubt in his current state I could beat him… But I do not desire to kill my brother because he is being a fool. I laughed at him and that surely made it worse. “Mother will be upset if you kill me.”
“I’ll be doing her a favor. Do not speak of her. You know what the worst thing that ever happened to her is?”
No. But I was certain he would tell me.
“Marrying your father and then bearing his spawn. You are a disgrace. A reminder! Your existence shames the entire family. If you had any honor you would have killed yourself long ago because of the burden you’ve been to her.”
That was enough. I would not have him insult our mother any longer. “Fine.” I looked at the guards. “You are witnesses. I accept this duel, but because I am the one being challenged, I set the terms.”
“As long as it is too the death!”
“Very well… We fight with our bare hands. If you kill me, you win. If I win, then I will beat you senseless and drag your sorry carcass to your bed so you can sleep it off.”
To call this a duel would be to insult the concept of dueling, and should some little Kakita read this they could get their feminine undergarments in a twist, so I will say it was more of a brawl, this drunken Crab fight. I tackled him and we wrestled. I should not have neglected my jujutsu training, because he got away. We stood in the middle of the tent, two mountains, punching each other in the face. Kenzan hits like an oni. My teeth still hurt as I type this. However, I was finally able to knock the stubborn brute out. The two bushi helped me carry him to bed. I suggested that they not mention this to the others, so as to avoid bringing any further disgrace to their already disgraced commander, and I suggested especially strongly that they shouldn’t say anything to O-Hinku. There is no need to drag our berserker into family squabbles.
I visited my wounded companions in the healer’s tent. Tsuruchi Machio was still in bad shape. However, Zukuzuko was doing remarkably well. I am a quick healer, but he makes me look like Princess Dainty Doji Tea-Party in comparison. The ronin is very resilient. Despite being badly burned this morning, he was ready to get back to work.
Upon returning to the Ide family estate, we were informed that Tsuze-san had found some sort of magic mirror. It is apparently a communication device that was being used to send messages out of the city. He did not yet know who was on the other side of the mirror, but he claims to be on our side. The mystery voice said that a Daidoji spy, disguised as a Crab bushi, was about to flee the city through the east gate. The Daidoji are the least useless of the pampered Crane, so this could be a challenge. I did not trust the voice, but what choice did we have? Ide Todo sent runners to secure all the exits and our group hurried toward the east. The gates would be sealed, but no further information was given so as to not tip off the spy.
Zukozuko took to the rooftops. I do not know how he got up there so quickly, but he was able to parallel us in our search. I am unfamiliar with city life, but I used a map of the city as if it were a battlefield, and used that to pick out choke points. I chose wisely (or got lucky) and Ide Todo was astute enough to spot the spy in the passing crowd. He saw us and fled into an alley. We gave chase. Todo-sama surprised me by commandeering a peasant’s horse to ride the spy down. That was rather dramatic of him, but I forgot that all Unicorn learn to ride before they learn to walk. Personally, I do all right on horseback only if the animal goes in a straight line… slowly.
By the time that I caught up, (it is hard to run in heavy armor), Ide Todo had blocked the end of the alley, Zukozuko had jumped off the roof and was wrestling the Daidoji, and Rei (who now serves as one of Ide Todo’s yojimbo) had disarmed the spy. We needed him alive for questioning. I have to hand it to the man, he was holding his own, but I was tired of this foolishness, so I smashed one of his legs with my tetsubo. I dislike running.
Even with a broken leg and being strangled by our ronin, the Daidoji managed to reach into his armor to fling something into the darkness. Kitsuki Tsuzi went after it. I told the Crane to surrender, but he shouted back that he was no Crane. He drew his wakizashi and tried to kill himself, so I shattered the bones of his arm. So then he tried to draw his tanto with his other arm. By Kisada, that is persistence worthy of a Crab! But Zuko is a very skilled wrestler, and was able to choke him out.
On that thought, I should ask Zukozuko to teach me some jujutsu. That could come in handy for future visits with my family.
I said that we should cut the Daidoji’s feet off to persuade him to talk. Zukozuko pointed out that the spy was unconscious and thus unable to hear us. Poor Zuko assumed that I was bluffing to scare the prisoner. Nothing of the sort, you just don’t need feet in order to talk. Some city yoriki had arrived, and Ide Todo had the Daidoji drug off for questioning. I volunteered to be present at the torturing. Some samurai would look down upon being in the presence of something so distasteful, but I had made a promise to my brother, and despite him acting the fool, Hida Makoto keeps his promises. I would observe the eta as they did their business.
The spy was very strong. He did not speak despite hours of pain. In another time I could have had great respect for someone of such will, but now he is my enemy, and I despise him too much to spare any admiration. The item that he had tried to hide in the alley was a dagger bearing the Daidoji family mon, but he would not speak about it either. Also in his possession were the false maps that were used to ruin Kenzan’s battle plans.
I was eager for him to give up his masters, because that would tell me who I needed to kill next. However, there was nothing I could do when the spy suddenly began to convulse and gasp for air. The Unicorn healers tried to bring him back, but he died anyway, and it was obviously not because of his wounds. I suspect some sort of slow acting poison. This was a very disappointing turn of events. Now I am unsure who to kill, and that is rather annoying.
I met the Unicorn Clan Champion, Moto Chen. Ide Todo showed him the mirror. Moto Chen ordered Todo-sama to continue seeking out the traitors in our midst. We are to attend a meeting of the war leaders tomorrow morning to report our findings. As a favor to me, Ide Todo was able to point out that the spy bore the false maps, and therefore Kenzan was innocent of the accusations against him. Moto Chen was not pleased and said that there was no proof that the Crane wasn’t really a Crab. I dislike this Moto Chen. Some of the Scorpion told me that his wife had hatched from a Naga egg. Preposterous, I know, but I still do not like him. Moto Chen is no Hida Kuon, that’s for sure. Now he is a real Clan Champion.
Tsuze received word through the mirror of another spy, only this one was trying to slip out over the lake through the Spider camp. We rushed over, woke Iko, and enlisted her help. I think she likes me, but she does not seem overly fond of my travelling companions. The leader of the Spider heard we were in their camp and requested our presence. Isawa Fosuta is a former Phoenix and he seemed very interested in Zukozuko. Fosuta spoke as if all the Great Clans were lazy and scared, and only the Spider had the courage to do what was necessary to protect the empire. What a pile of dung. I mentioned that he might not have noticed the big wall to the south keeping out the legions of demons. I will not tolerate such talk from a minor clan.
Ide Todo tried the fancy talk, but the Spider remain a tough nut to crack. Since the Spider get along so poorly with the other clans guarding Shiro Shinjo, and because Zukozuko is respected by both sides, he volunteered to serve as an intermediary between the Unicorn and the Spider. I grew tired of diplomacy, had no patience for Fosuta’s games, trusted Iko-san to catch the spy, and was still recovering from the morning’s battle and my fight with Kenzan, so I retired for the evening.
I write this now by candlelight in the Ide compound. The paper walls are thin and I can hear the others moving about. I miss the solid stone walls of a proper Crab holding. I miss much about my homeland, but after today’s events I fear that I may never be able to return to my village again. So much has changed. It would be hard to bow to a lord you have punched in the face, and it would be harder still for the lord to accept it. Hopefully Kenzan won’t command me to commit seppuku, because that could be awkward, what with me having to fulfill an assignment from a Fortune first. Kisada guide me, you wished for me to come to this place, you told me to make myself worthy to marry Otomo Yuni and make her a daughter of Hida. I have done my best. If I have to strangle the Dark Oracle of Fire to death with his own intestines in order to become worthy, then I will do so. I can only trust that your wisdom will continue to guide my path.
For next week’s episode I’ll post No Middle Ground by Steve Diamond, a battle scene written from the perspective of the gaijin invaders. http://larrycorreia.wordpress.com/2011/12/02/the-burning-throne-episode-7-no-middle-ground/
Here is a Christmas stocking stuffer idea for you: http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=monshuntnati-20&o=1&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=B0040Z2LPI
I’ve been using this stuff for the last year, and I can say that it is by far the best gun lubricant I have ever tried. When used correctly (strip gun, spray with degreaser, clean it really well, then lubricate) it makes rough guns feel good, and good guns feel super slick. The only gun I own that I didn’t feel a marked improvement in how the slide felt was my custom STI, but that was because it is hard to make butter feel softer.
Continued from the Battle of Shinjo Ridge: http://larrycorreia.wordpress.com/2011/11/11/the-burning-throne-episoide-4-the-battle-of-shinjo-ridge/ Last week’s update featured the Hida O-Hinku, Little Miss Hida Face Wrecker, action scene of brutal Crab style gaijin clubbing. The following entries were from the same game session immediately after the battle. Ide Todo written by Steve Diamond.
Unauthenticated Journals of Ide Todo
Have I found my purpose?
It feels odd to write this so closely following my admission of failure. Perhaps the Fortunes do indeed smile upon me, but I have felt invigorated by recent events.
Should anyone every read these journals, it is important to put into context the events surrounding—causing even—my epiphany of sorts. Doubtless the educated will have heard of the Battle of Shinjo Ridge. I heard it called many things that evening. Kenzan’s Folly. The Shinjo Massacre. The last is likely the most apt for it was not a battle. If not for the bravery of my traveling companions, the barbarian hordes would have swept immediately into my people’s lands in a wave of fire and blood.
I did not see the battle up close, but even from afar it was an easy thing to see the various clan forces milling about in confusion. Through the ash that drifted upon the winds, I caught glances of bursts of fire on the battlefield. It wasn’t until after that I learned of our enemies exploding into flame upon dying. I saw the wounded. The lucky few that returned—I was told we lost more than half of our forces in that slaughter—did so with every degree of burn across their exposed skin. Cloth melted in those sorcerous flames and soon was affixed to skin. Samurai returned blind, or wearing blisters already weeping sickness. Armor and weaponry of poor quality was warped and useless—only melting them down and reforging them was the available course. My own companions, for all their bravery, did not escape the carnage. Both the ronin Zuko Zuko and Tsuruchi Machio returned—carried—with horrible wounds. Hida Makoto and his half-sister Hida O-Hinku, while wounded, returned more or less intact.
I have studied war, and as is usually the case following a decisive defeat the blame that was thrown around like dung in a stable was nearly as damaging as the battle itself. Together with Kitsuki Tsuze—with whom I was attempting to decipher coded correspondence—I ran to the tent of the warlords.
I could hear them long before I was even in sight of the tent. Accusations roared like battle-cries. The scene inside the tent was one of chaos, of [section damaged beyond repair]. The warlords stood around their map of the battle field alternately pointing at it and Kenzan.
“The ravine was in the wrong place!”
“Where was the river?”
“Look at the map! Your orders were incompetent!”
“You killed us all!”
I can still hear their words echoing inside my skull. But the image that that was burned into my mind was that of Kenzan slowly gripping the hilt of his wakizashi. I doubt anyone else noticed, focused as they were on losing themselves in the chaos.
And suddenly there was absolute quiet.
Every eye turned my way, and I realized my mouth was open, and that I was beseeching their attention. What came over me? The words I spoke are unclear to me as I try to recall them for this record. They slip like water through spread fingers.
I recall heads nodding, the redness leaving their faces. Kenzan’s removing his hand from the hilt of his blade. For the first time I noticed Makoto in the tent. In his eyes I saw something that I do not think I have truly witnessed: honest respect. Oh I could see the confusion that was mixed with it. He was regarding me in the way a warrior takes the measure of an opponent…and I was suddenly worth his respect. I looked about the room and saw this impression mirrored in the eyes of nearly all in attendance.
It humbled me. It humbles me even as I write.
As they all left I caught Kenzan’s attention. I began consoling him in the only way a warrior understands: appealing to his honor, and showing him how he could salvage it from the ashes. I was unexpectedly supported by Tsuze, and together we talked him into keeping his wakizashi sheathed. Hopefully [section damaged beyond repair]
Kenzan is not at fault here, I am sure. Tsuze is proving himself invaluable as an investigator. His father would be proud with the way he honors family and ancestors. We communed with the kami—I respect the kami even if others brush off the advice they give—and we suspect someone of tampering with the map. If true it still will not fully restore Kenzan’s honor, but it will put him back on the path.
I walked back to our rooms then, leaving the tent behind me. But those gazes of respect followed me. It wasn’t a katana held high, dripping with the blood of Yobanjin that arrested their attention and respect. It was my voice. My reasoning—though my own words elude me. A sense of purpose flowed through me—I feel it even now.
The voice of the Empire. I heard my Clan whispering as I walked by. They spoke of the honor I could bring to our Clan as the Amethyst Champion. As an Emerald Magistrate. I still need to gain much honor, and obtain a mountain’s worth of knowledge, but perhaps the Fortunes are guiding me through my Clan. Through the respect I witness in others.
It will be a hard journey, and I worry that I won’t have the strength. I must look in even the most unlikely of places to find the strength to save the Empire.
If need be, I must even [section damaged beyond repair]
Journals of Ide Todo
Discovered in the Shadowlands 1175
From the journal of Hida Makoto, Crab Clan.
We have been betrayed.
The Crab took heavy casualties. I do not know how many more of the wounded will perish. The Lion and the Scorpion fared just as badly. Tsuruchi Machio and Zukozuko are both grievously injured and lucky to be alive. O-Hinku’s squad lost nearly half of its men.
Yobanjin tried to kill me, but the mountain did not burn.
Kenzan’s battle plans were a mess. None of the terrain was as it was described, though the map in the battle tent is correct now. I do not know how this was done, whether the map was switched last night, or if Kenzan was manipulated through the kami, but I know that my brother is not a fool. The combined clan armies have been tricked.
Unicorn clan general, Moto Kang, insulted Kenzan’s honor, saying he was either a traitor or an incompetent. Who do you think you are, Moto? Crab volunteered to defend your pathetic fortress when the empire is threatened. Are there any Moto on the Wall where the empire is threatened every single day? Kenzan is one of the greatest warriors of the Crab. He has fought many battles and never made a mistake. Hida Kenzan is what it means to be Crab!
Yet, I could see the doubt in Kenzan’s eyes. He reached for his wakizashi, and I fear that he would have killed himself on the spot if it had not been for Ide Todo’s wisdom.
I owe Ide Todo a great debt. His clever words prevented more carnage than he can imagine. He calmed the Moto daimyo and made Kenzan wonder if magical trickery had been involved. If Kenzan had taken his own life, then nothing would have stopped O-Hinku from attacking Moto Kang, and her men would have followed her. There would have been nothing left of Shiro Shinjo for the Yobanjin to burn when the Crab were through with it.
I have always been the one that has brought shame and infamy to our family. Everything Kenzan has done has been glorious and honorable. But today I am a hero who killed the enemy by the pile and Kenzan is contemplating seppuku.
I will not let him. He does not understand what it is to fail but keep trying. He has never had to pray to the Fortune of Persistence. I have. I will not carry his ashes home to mother.
When the other clans were gone, Kenzan looked to me, and asked, “Is this how it feels?”
Yes. Yes, brother. This is what it feels like to be scorned and humiliated for something that is not your fault.
O-Hinku has been placed in charge of the Crab forces. Kenzan has given me his word that he will wait before taking any action. I swear I will find who is responsible for this, and I will make them suffer before they die. I have promised to bring Kenzan a head, but before they die, I will make them talk. My grandfather was a torturer. He knew how to make fools talk. May his spirit guide me.
Kitsuki Tsuze likes puzzles. He will figure this puzzle out too, and once Tsuze-san has found the answer, our enemy will learn to fear the mountain.
Continued next week with Crab Duel! http://larrycorreia.wordpress.com/2011/11/25/the-burning-throne-episode-6-crab-duel/
Monster Hunter Legion
This will be a limited edition hardcover that has a signature page from me bound into it.
The Monster Hunters:
This is a hard cover omnibus of the first 3 MHI books. I have no idea how they are going to fit them all in there togehter. EDIT: The link should go to the right place now.
The Grimnoir Chronicles: Hard Magic, mass market paperback
And thanks to everybody who has been going to Amazon through the links on my page. Any time you order stuff through here, you don’t get charged any extra, but I get a % for the refferal. It is rather awesome. So far I’ve made enough to offset the growing Hordes/Warmachine arms race between various Utah novelists. I just heard that Dan Wells ordered 3 more warjacks… Stuff just got real.
So by purchasing all of the stuff you would purchase through Amazon anyway, and stopping through here first, it will enable me to get more guys like this to paint in order to stomp other writer’s faces.
Yes. Because I’m mature like that.
The above picture is from when an Occupie interrupted the swearing in ceremony for newly elected congressman Bob Turner at a high school in queens. Who the hell heckles a swearing in ceremony? Adam Weissmann and three other clueless protestors, that’s who. (there’s Adam pictured above, looking highly befuddled) Turner is the guy that replaced Wiener in a special election, and Wiener was a dirt bag, so I don’t really know what they were protesting. Equal rights for dirt bags? Anyway, it is rather uncouth to interrupt a swearing in ceremony, so a former Marine, former NYPD, guy named Kevin Hiltunen (pictured above whooping ass, old school) dragged the Occupie out and tossed him in the street. “I guess you could say I sorted him out.”
I would have to agree, Kevin. He looks pretty sorted out to me. Good work. The half of America that works for a living is going to print this picture and frame it.
Clueless, whiny, obnoxious, annoying, smelly, and rapey… That’s a great recipe for success right there.
I keep getting told that the Occupy Wall Street is a legitimate political movement, every bit as legitimate as the Tea Party… Just with more rapes, murders, shootings, riots, tuberculosis outbreaks, public sex, rampant drug use, drug overdoses, and still no real coherent message other than “We want more stuff!”
I went by the Occupy Salt Lake encampment the other day. I was surprised by how tiny it was. It was just a little cluster of tents. I’ve been to ward scout camps that were bigger. The local Ren Fair is bigger… Yet, they’re still managing to have fatalities. That’s quite the ringing endorsement. Listen to our ideas, but as soon as you put us in charge people will die mysteriously, you’ll get raped but we won’t report it, and then you can catch a 19th century disease! Yay!
I’ve been told repeatedly by people on Facebook that I am wrong to insult OWS because they have some “good points” and how the Tea Party should totally work with them, because we want “the same thing.”
No. We. Don’t. We can agree that cronyism is bad, but the proposed solutions are completely divergent. The Tea Party wants smaller government. OWS wants (as far as anyone can tell because they still don’t have a coherent message) a government that can do absolutely everything for them. Leave me alone vs. Fix all my bad choices for me. We pay too much in taxes vs. Eat the rich and give me their stuff. Freedom vs. Fairness. These ideals are opposite ends of the spectrum. There is no middle ground here.
The argument that they are the same because both sides agree that there is a problem is absurd. I’m sure plenty of Russians thought that the Tsar was wrong, but that didn’t make Lenin the right answer. Anyone who says that the two sides are morally equivalent is delusional.
Both sides agree that the body politic is unhealthy. The Tea Party solution is to replace the defective parts and put the body on a diet. The OWS solution is to transplant its brain with a cabbage. Then set it on fire.
Where were the cries last year that everyone who was unhappy with the current economic situation should listen to the Tea Party, because they had a legitimate complaint? Funny, I don’t remember those. Right wing group says that problem X exists, insult them and mock those crazies. Left wing group says that problem X exists, then we should all respectfully agree that X is a serious problem and have a dialog about what to do about X, even though the left wing solution to X rewards the people that caused X, and then makes X ten times worse.
That’s the thing that irks me the most about OWS. Comparing how they get treated in the media narrative against how competing movements are portrayed. The Tea Party are violent, racist extremists, with an extreme agenda, who want to lynch minorities, and if the government does what they want then we’ll go back to the dark ages, all the old folks will die, children will starve, and so they can all burn in hell, those racist bastards. On the other hand, OWS demonstrates that the government needs to do more, and that people are suffering in these tough times, and that greed is bad m’kay, and that we should totally feel sorry for these poor people, and if only all those awful rich people would give up their stuff, then everybody could be happy together.
Sure, that’s simplified, but look at how either side is talked about on any story, any issue, in the vast majority of the media and see if it doesn’t fit those basic parameters. Obviously it isn’t limited to just Tea Party vs. OWS. I’m still amazed by the comments about Herman Cain’s “Predatory Black Sexuality” on MSNBC, which was about the stupidest, most actually racist thing I’ve heard in a long time… Besides, everybody that reads this blog when I post my hate mail knows that I’m the one stealing all the white women.
The narrative gets repeated and repeated and repeated until all the stupid people just swallow it unthinkingly. The other day I posted on Twitter, “Remember when the Tea Party had all those rapes? Yeah, me too. Thanks CNN.” And I immediately got a reply that “No, but I remember when that Tea Party guy shot a congresswoman in the face!” What? Seriously? Okay… Bear with me, you ill informed ass muppet… If you will recall a lunatic dissatisfied nut job that was so in his own world that he really didn’t fit in with any rational political philosophy and didn’t belong to any particular group (but loved him some Karl Marx) shot some people because the voices in his head told him too, this was IMMEDIATELY shouted from the rooftops as definitive PROOF that the Tea Party was as evil as the media said they are. (And it was all Sarah Palin’s fault.)
Sure, afterwards it came out that the guy wasn’t affiliated with them in any way, shape, or form, but the narrative had been set, and here we are all this time later and morons are still parroting it. If you can’t find actual bad stuff, make some up.
However, we’re supposed to dismiss the over three thousand arrests at various Occupy movements? I’m supposed to be furious at the Oakland PD, because a poor, picked on, former Marine was severely injured by their horrid police brutality? (sure, he’d been drummed out of the Marines for drug abuse, ran a website about how the military sucks, and I personally find that I experience far fewer severe head injuries when I chose not to engage in battle with riot cops, but whatever).
We’re supposed to ignore that rapes and sexual assaults are rampant, and that the OWS people were trying to handle them without involving law enforcement? From the New York Post, “We don’t tell anyone. We handle it internally. I said too much already.” A few weeks ago when I posted that on Twitter I had several angry people demanding links, like I’d just made up these totally baseless allegations, because surely, if all these horrible things were so common, they would’ve heard about it on the regular news! My answer was to put Rape at Occupy Wall Street into Google and get ready for lots of reading.
I want you to imagine with me for a moment that one half of one percent of the same type of criminal activity that has occurred at an Occupy event were to have occurred at any Tea Party event. Now imagine the media coverage…
There is a fundamental difference in character between the two sides. By their fruits ye shall know them. Sadly, the media is totally incapable of understanding that concept.
And for my closing statement, here is video of someone at Occupy Seattle shitting on a public sidewalk.
I got a couple of e-mails from Mike Kupari yesterday. For those of you that don’t know him, Mike is my best friend, coauthored the thriller Dead Six with me, and is currently serving in Afghanistan as an EOD Technician. (the crazy guys that take care of IEDs).
This is the book we wrote together: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1451637586/ref=as_li_tf_til?tag=monshuntnati-20&camp=14573&creative=327641&linkCode=as1&creativeASIN=1451637586&adid=0YSR1G7S3HRC8B37RT4E&&ref-refURL=http%3A%2F%2Frcm.amazon.com%2Fe%2Fcm%3Ft%3Dmonshuntnati-20%26o%3D1%26p%3D8%26l%3Das1%26asins%3D1451637586%26ref%3Dtf_til%26fc1%3D000000%26IS2%3D1%26lt1%3D_blank%26m%3Damazon%26lc1%3D0000FF%26bc1%3D000000%26bg1%3DFFFFFF%26f%3Difr
He didn’t get to do any book signings when his first novel came out, because he was too busy being awesome.
He sent me the following pictures of his Veteran’s Day.
We e-mail back and forth quite a bit. This is from the last couple of emails he sent me.
Yeah, I totally did that. Whole nine yards. Sleeping on the hard cold ground, 70-pound rucksack, and what was supposed to be a 2-3 kilometer walk turned into a 10 kilometer walk.
Here we were talking about the rapes, shootings, deaths, and Tuberculosis outbreak among the Occupy Wall Street crowd:
I have seen young Americans, recklessly brave, crawling through villages with 100 pound backpacks. I’ve seen them sleep on the cold ground, huddled together in mud huts, crapping in holes in the ground. I’ve watched them mourn their dead. They eat terrible food and live off of however much water they can carry. They brave IEDs every time they leave the FOB, and through it all, they keep telling jokes.
You know what THEY want? A lighter pack. To not have to walk quite as far. In some cases, they just want their legs back.
And look at the country they’re protecting. Tens, possibly hundreds of millions of sniveling parasites braying for Mother Government to feed them, clothe them, house them, guarantee them a job, and wipe their fucking asses for them.
It makes me sick. America doesn’t deserve the military it has.
Anyway. Here’s another cool guy picture. This is what I did on Veterans Day.