(no subject)

I got a new Napster program today. It's called Filetopia, and it's peroformed pretty well so far. It uses encryption, which, hopefully, will serve me well where I'm going (see earlier post about VT orientation).

I was in the process of testing the reliability of said client when Callwave went off. Gods, I thought to myself, not mom again. You see, my mom has this habit of calling me from work every two hours or so to check up on me. I wonder sometimes if this is the way she'll act when I leave for college. If it is, at least she won't be disturbing my internet connection...

Anyway, there I was, waiting for mother's call. Imagine my surprise when my caller turned out to be Petty Officer Something-or-Other from the Navy Recruiting Station. He said that a friend of mine told him that I was interested in the Navy and that we should meet to discuss it. I was first shocked, then enraged. How dare someone professing to be my friend give my name (and number) to the Navy saying I'd be interested in enlisting when I have, for years, voiced my total opposition to entering the military? It was an annoyance at best, a betrayal at worst.

After eliminating my sister from the list of possible suspects (she wants to join the military), I looked up the recruiting office's phone number, since I had forgotten it and had already deleted the message. After looking through two phone books, I called the office and explained my situation, and my lack of interest in a military career. He understood, and removed my name from the list. He was nice about it; I wish I could say the same for me, for I think I took out my anger towards my "friend" on him. Of course, he was rather nice despite my anger. I hope he understands that it wasn't him.

Anyway, that was my bit. I think I'll be updating Chrono Central soon. Until we meet again, everyone...

(no subject)

I went with my mother to the laundromat today. She always puts off doing the laundry, so I spent a few hours there. While there, two things occurred that I found noteworthy. The first was a woman in her 20s dancing outside. I thought that was cool; it's something you don't see often in my town.

The other thing served to shock me, for the second time today. Out of boredom, I found myself reading yesterday's Washington Post. In the Op-Ed Section, I found a letter to the editor about domestic violence in the military:

As a former Army chaplain and author of a book about sex and violence in the military, I know that domestic murder in the Army is not unique to the Special Forces. Nor is it a distinctive byproduct of the Afghanistan war. In 1994, the Army Times reported that each week one family member died at the hands of a soldier. More than one study reports the enlisting of soldiers who have histories of violent aggression that predispose them to domestic violence. To complicate matters, the Army provides higher supplemental housing benefits for married soldiers than for single soldiers. Thus, in high- stress training environments, immature first-term soldiers marry two or three years younger than their civilian peers.

When the Army's nonselective hiring practices are coupled with pay policies that push premature marriage, the stage is set for much of the violence and family dysfunction that plague the military community. No amount of chaplain or psychological counseling will compensate for systemic policies that permit enlisting soldiers with poor psychological profiles and also promote poor lifestyle decisions by young recruits.

MARIE E. DeYOUNG
Maryville, Mo.

That shocked me, although it probably shouldn't have. I can see, for example, why people who join the Army -- or any military branch, for that matter -- would have a high predisposition towards violence. The thing that gets me is that these soldiers used training that I'm paying for now, through federal taxes, to kill their family members! At the rate of 52 a year! Not exactly the homicide rate in DC, but one would think that soldiers would have more discipline.

It's a sad and insane world we live in...

VT update: 11 days, 16 hours, 33 minutes until I take off.