"A Bad Deal...All Around"

 

August 19, 2021

“A Bad Deal…All Around”

By Jim Culp

 

Let me tell you how far you can get in a combat zone like areas in Afghanistan or Iraq without an interpreter. Sure, you can go all Stormtrooper and just kill everybody, but then you’re gonna play hell making it out. Interpreters act in many roles, but I can tell you…my interpreter in Iraq was invaluable to me. In fact, I had two. The one had at the meeting hall was a very young guy called Buddy (because no one could pronounce his proper name) that spoke nearly fluent English, he was fluent in Modern Arabic and Kurdish. He did interpretations for me daily and only asked for a can of Pringles in payment.

My other guy was a commercial contractor. Mr. Nohman was from a northern province of Baghdad, and had a lovely wife and three children. He wasn’t a terrorist or a thug; he was a good man trying to make money for his family. Nohman would get me everything from blankets to plywood, flash drives, and tools, nails… whatever.

When I watch the current crap going on in Afghanistan, I think about Nohman and how I would feel if he were to be left there after being such an asset to me for seven months. I would feel like a thug myself thinking of his children being rounded up to be slaves, or his inability to feed his family because the supermarkets had been closed to the public unless they complied with the thug’s wishes.

Every time I hear some stupid redneck says things like “screw them towel-heads, they started it!” or some other asinine bullshit. It makes my skin crawl. Educate yourself. Talk to veterans that have been through this kind of crap. It’s the same thing that happened in Saigon in 1975. A country collapses because the invading force had poor leadership and made really bad calls in the latter years. And no, it’s not just Biden.

 

Jim Culp

Veteran of OIF 1

February 2003 to May 2004

Tigris River Valley, Iraq

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Solve the Problems: Part 1

 

8/8/2021

Solve the Problems- Part I

By Jim Culp

 

So, we are now looking for new Olympic sports. I’ve had had an idea for one for 30 years, but had little response. Here ye go. State by state, you grab up every person in prison that has been there for 10 years or more. Take them far out in the desert, and set up full cameras, video, and whatever else you want.

10 prisoners against 10 prisoners at a time, 1 hour limit.

They may choose a weapon* and a shield, or two weapons. The last man with a workable appendage is set free. Now, depending on your amount of inmates, this can take months or years. So be it. We’d get rid of millions of rat fuck dogshit criminals mos tickety tick. The events would employ thousands of security guards, mobile kitchens, and low skill nurses to give the survivors band aids and a canteen of water for their journey.

*: Any hand held weapon that does not issue a projectile except spears.

I will now take Questions from the Public:

Q: How will you make sure that these people don’t escape during the process? 

Easy, they are not only completely chained, they are drugged and go nighty-night for the trip.

Q: This is inhumane! They deserve better than this.

A: Well shit, I guess you’re going to have to pull up your panties and live with it. Also, if the prisoner elects, they can opt out, and be used for live bayonet training at any military base.

Q: How much will this cost?

A: Depends on the State, but probably about a hundred grand per day. But after you deduct the money that is being used on prisoner Jack the Rapist ($81,000 per year) that these events will have as a budget, it’ll work itself out.

Q: This is barbaric! Jesus would not approve of such idiocy!

A: Maybe not, but Jesus ain’t running the country. Our country is a Republic, not a religious theocracy.

 Q: These people will die horrible deaths and their families will sue!

A: One bit of the banana at a time, sister. One, horrible deaths? You mean like the Manson murders? The Hillside Strangler? Dahmer? Give me a goddamn break. So families will sue. We’ll handle that in due time.

Q: Ok, Jim…down and dirty. How much will this cost?

A: Well, let’s look at a few states. How about New Mexico where I grew   up? In that state (as of 2015) one prisoner costs the people $7,167 a year. Mind you, that doesn’t account for a prisoner that needs a special cell, or is in lockdown, or needs daily medical care. But even in that state, it costed $263,935,441 a year. But that’s nothing compared to New York, where the average expenditure of an inmate per year was $53,181. Ready for the big tamale? That year, New York (all by itself) spent $3,688,976,999 on housing inmates. Just for comparison’s sake, let’s see how many F150 Ford Pickups (brand new) with that money. After employing my unbeatable 3^rd grade math, you could purchase $125,946 of them.  

Q: I can’t believe a person would even think about such barbarism.

A: Well, shit fire. To quote my hero Clint Eastwood…”Well, they can all come stay at your place then… can’t they?”

          -Jim

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June 14, 2021

“Grief Begets Ignorance”

By Jim Culp

 

To the lady that lost your child in the Sandy Hook shooting; I am very sorry for your loss. I can’t say that I know how you feel, or “yeah, I’ve been there,” or any other reply that would ease your pain. A bunch of folks died that day, including other children that were ages like 6 and 7. What a tragedy. It was nine years ago, but I am sure that doesn’t matter when it comes to your grief. But the area that I am deeply concerned about is this; you want the U.S. Government to pass a law that prohibits any citizen of the United States from owning a semi-automatic firearm. You want most to prohibit us from owning a semi-automatic series of rifles like the kid at Sandy Hook employed. These are semi-autos like the XM-15 Bushmaster carbines that look like military M-16’s. Yes Ma’am; I know them well. I’ve owned four of them over the last 30 years, and used them recreationally many times over. I taught my daughter how to load, shoot, and perform basic actions to clean, disassemble, perform function and malfunction actions, and what direction not to point the muzzle. I carried a government version of one of these in two wars, and employed them for my survival three times in the second one.

I said all of that to say this. I’ve never shot anyone that didn’t need some killin’, and I never wanted to ban weapon ownership from anyone that was sane, trained, and old enough to distinguish a fart from a chainsaw. The kid that shot your child (and many others) came from a broken home, and the events that led to the shooting were all in plain sight for plenty of people to see; they just didn’t do anything. Taking away law abiding citizen’s weapons (anything from steak knives to Bushmasters) does absolutely nothing to keep the public safe. Do you really think the cops could handle armies of thugs that would rule the streets if the public did not own firearms? If so, visit places where handguns are illegal. Let me know what you find. Again, sorry about the kid; it sucks. But try to take my guns? Ain’t going to work sugar.

-Jim

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June 5, 2021

“Literally”

By Jim Culp

I was fishing this morning, and a man in his sixties came down to the water, and sat down. He didn’t have any gear, so I wondered if he was a bird watcher or something. Pretty soon we were commenting on the crazy weather we have had, and I kept comparing it to what the weather today and yesterday were like {PERFECT}.

After a while, he confided in me that he was a non-denominational minister, and liked to go out and speak with people about his faith, and ask about theirs.

After a while, I told him that I was from a religious family, and that for all of my childhood (and up to age 37) I was a Baptist. In those days, we were called “Fundamental Baptists” so that we were recognized separate from other Baptists. I told him of the problems that I had with religion in my childhood, and how I struggled with it as an adult. He then asked me what religion I observed now.

I replied that I don’t practice one at all. I consider myself Pagan, but I barely practice that. He said he was sorry, and that he sometimes struggled with religion as well. We talk on and on, and finally I asked him if he would take my genealogy exam. He said “Sure…what not?”

I carry around three or four index cards with me everywhere I go, because I could debate religion with the Pope. So I showed him my card (please see photo). He said “Ohhhh, the old Genesis debate!”

I said “yeah. What happened after that? Before you answer, I know the bible. I know that it says there were men and women after that, but who did who to make more people?”

He said emphatically that he did not know the answer. I told him about one Baptist preachers who told me that “incest wasn’t wrong in those days.”

“Really?” the guy asked.

“Yeah, really.”

Then he said what all the others said for all of my life. “Well, you just can’t take the Bible literally all the time.”

-Jim  

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May 7, 2021

“Safe Conduct”

By Jim Culp

 

What a nice day. It’s about 70 degrees, but a little windy for me. No problem; did some writing this morning, then headed out to look at more fishing places. On the way, I stopped at Sonic, and got some grub. Then my daughter and I had a long text talk, and I was back on track to the areas I wanted to RECON today.

I parked my car, and started to get out. Just then, a rock hit my passenger door. It scared the shit out of me, because there were no other cars there. I looked around, didn’t see anyone; and got out to see whether USAA insurance would be getting a call or not.

I got out, and had my camera in hand. I started looking at the marks on the car, and then I heard steps in gravel from the lakeside. I turned around, and about 10 feet  away was Barry Von Tweaker; getting closer. Camera stayed in left hand; right hand drew pistol. Pistol levels at tweakie’s solid brown teeth. He stops.

Me: “did you do this?”

Tweak: “Nah dude; I just need some food money.”

Me: “How about a bullet instead?”

It was then, and only then; that this idiot realized I was holding a gun.

Me: “Get lost, tweakee.”

Tweak: “I’m on it man.”

He walks to the brush, and disappeared.

Luckily, the “rock” was more mud than rock. No significant damage.

I was relieved. I haven’t killed anyone in 18 years, and I don’t ever want to have to do it again. Live goes on in Missura!

Have a nice day.

-Jim

 

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April 28^th, 2021

“Snow”

By Jim Culp

 

This morning I was watching some news, and the weather guy said that we can rest assure that the Midwest is pretty well out of range for any more snow-storms.

I started thinking (don’t know why) about my Mom and how she loved the snow we would get in Silver City. Then I started thinking about Uncle Albert, who lived in Coeur D Alene for a major part of his life. In the last ten of them, he never owned an automobile. He had a snow-mobile for winter; and a horse for summer.

He visited us in Silver City one year, and told us many stories about the brutal winters in his area of Northern Idaho. He lived semi-remote, because that was how he liked it.

Coeur D Alene, Idaho receives an average snowfall of 69.8 inches of snow each year. That’s an incredible amount of snow. When I worked Kansas DOT in the nineties, our area received 17.2 inches per year. There were times when we plowed 12 on / 12 off for 4-5 days. I can’t imagine receiving almost seventy inches of snow in a winter… hell; you may as well sleep at the shop.  

Memories of the winters I have been through are plenty cold and wet, but I only had a few here and there where it was really bad, especially at Fort Riley.

Just my thoughts on paper today…

Thanks for reading!

-Jim

 

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"Fear"

 

April 24, 2021

“Fear”

By Jim Culp

In the summer of 1990, I attended a school at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. It was hotter than the lower planes of hell, and we arrived to find that not only were the barracks not air conditioned; neither were the classrooms and mess-hall. Most days were over 100˚F, and the humidity was around 70%. We were there for six weeks, and attended classes every day and various outdoor activities like the physical fitness test, land navigation, and trying not to die.

This school (in my day) was called BNCOC (Basic Non-Commissioned Officer’s Course), and you typically attend it at Grade E-5, which is Sergeant. There were guys there from my unit, and also some guys that I had been stationed with at other Army units previously. We were allowed to do as we pleased at night, and that usually included drinking and watching strippers dance.

At some point in the class, we wrote papers on any subject that we chose. They were graded by a professor instructor from Central Texas College. I wrote mine on Darth Vader. I wrote about how the Darth would handle any issue that came his way, and 98% of the time; his leaders and soldiers did what he said to do in great haste. If a leader or soldier was in that 2 percentile, woe was his fate.

"Darth" (means “Lord” or “Leader”) was feared and respected, but mostly feared…hence his 98% efficiency rate. He always dressed well, and made sure one of his imbeciles shined his boots and helmet to a mirror image. He rarely yelled, because he didn’t need to.

Once, at a leader’s conference, his boss was there. The boss said that “fear would keep the local systems in line, fear of this battle station.” The boss spoke of the Death Star, a massive rig that moved about space blowing up planets that had not behaved like the Emperor (the BIG BOSS) wanted. When one of the leaders scoffed at this, the Darth walked over to him, and summoned the force. This made the leader choke, and gain some fucking respect. See how that works?

I received a 97 on my paper. At the bottom, there was this note.

“Dear Sergeant Culp: I loved your paper, and really enjoyed reading it. I gave you a 98% because your indention on line 54 was not needed. Lastly; about your topic; bravo! I grade hundreds of these papers every week, and get sick of Army slogans and tedious military jargon. Thanks for the break.”

I headed home that summer feeling like a million bucks. Now that I look back, I think about that paper, and all the guys I went to that course with. I think about the heat and humidity, and the way it would prepare me for the coming war, which was just six months later. I would know fear all too well then.

-Jim

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