Combat Queer Online

America Hates Her (Queer) Soldiers

Sorry I don't have more time for this Dear Reader, but a good friend sent me this article, and I had to pass it along. 

http://www.outandaboutnewspaper.com/article/3699

Basically, some of fellow Southerners couldn't deal with the fact of a gay serviceman. You see this in the Army too. I've heart some right-wing crackpots in my very own unit talking about how they don't understand why the Army would need DADT because, of course, no queer would ever want to do anything to help America. So I'm standing there and, yeah, I might get beaten to death if I respond the way I want to, so I just stay quiet. And I fucking hate that. When this shit is over. When I get the Army's chain off from around my neck, oh friends, people are going to know what a god damned queer was willing to do for them.

That Marine (who's name was left out of the article, I notice) was fighting for truth. The truth is, we queers are just as good and as bad an anyone else. And our work, our toil, does just as much good for this world as yours or anybody else'.

Change

This article caught my eye in the Times today: http://www.nytimes.com/ref/opinion/06opclassic.html

It was written back in 1991, 18 years ago if you can believe (I certainly am a little incredulous). In 18 years, almost nothing has changed in America. Through three presidents, we're almost in exactly the same mess. Now certainly, the world is always changing slightly, but essentially we're in the very same mess now that we were 18 years ago. We're in a recession, we've got folks stuck in Iraq, and America is more or less lost in the sauce.

Right there in the last few months of the presidential campaign last year, there seemed to be the kind of activism, the desire for a better world, the understanding that a common effort could result in common good coming from both side of the political spectrum. People started playing those old songs form the 60's again, started playing them un-ironically. For a moment there were people marching the in the street, the fortunate sons were out in mass, and the times, they were a'changing. Then, a year later, we're really in pretty much the same place we were a year ago. We're still struggling with that same basic moral questions, not even about what's right, but rather, "Is it ok to say something's wrong, or is it un-American to hope for a better world? Is it un-American to be afraid of moving? Can right be done under the sun?"

Obama's acting 99% exactly like Bush. The election didn't mean anything, really (except maybe it kept things from getting worse, maybe. And maybe it changed what could be done in the future). So, the kind of frustration the writer of that article feels, I get that.

But I love this country, as screwy as it can be. It's full of people, and Christ is working on them day by day, and maybe that means something too.

But you know what hope looks like? http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/07/us/07activist.html

Whatever else you can say about that guy, he's not giving up, and he doesn't care he's doing it alone. There's a guy I'd like to talk to.

The Fundamentalist Ain't The Worst

Well Dear Reader, I've decided something: I actually prefer the chaplain in my unit, that venomous Evangelical, to the other sort of the chaplain I've seen, the weak willed and lukewarm, Spiritual Care Plan who recite nothings.  Sure, my chaplain may be a devil who hates people for their sexuality and gender, but at least he means it.  At least he isn't worshiping his job.

These other chaplains, they got nothing, nothing except devotion to the Army. 

Though they wear crosses on their uniforms, they make no effort to worship Christ or the God of Christ.  Instead, they worship of the god of the Army.  Now, before you go getting excited, I have to tell you this: the god of the Army is no where near as interesting as Ares, Mars, or Tyr.  Instead, this god is nothing but a cheap knock off of the blandest understanding of a monotheistic god. 

Apparently, the Army god asks nothing of us other than to buck up and follow our leaders.  The Army god has no wisdom and no love of justice.  It does not point to any kind of goodness and it doesn't tell you to act right.  It doesn't love, doesn't hate, doesn't enforce, doesn't subvert, doesn't sow, doesn't reap, don't nothing.  Nothing.  Not the vaguest hint of holiness or anything beyond the common, ugly, and small. It is an empty word, a place holder for the saddest indoctrination of the...and I can hardly write this without grimacing...the "Core Army Values."

The Core Army Values are, of course, Loyalty (only to the Army), Duty (to the Army), Respect (of the Army), Selfless Service (of the Army), Honor (obtained through serving the Army), Integrity (do I need to say it), and Personal Courage (you get the picture).

Basically, the ultimate virtue in the Army is doing what you're told.  Most Christian chaplains have had no problem completely shedding their loyalty to that homeless Jewish fellow who got crucified.  They've lost all feeling for that fellow who, after he fed five thousand, ran away when the people tried to make him king 'cause they just didn't get it.

The chaplains instead worship the Army.  They call it god and hope that their soldiers are too stupid to know the difference.  But friends, we are not.  We get what the deal is.

I Run So Far Away

Hey friends, I swear, I'm working on a devastating essay against the conservative Evangelical understanding of God. I repeat, devastating.

 

Unfortunately, every time I sit down to work on it, something happens and I continue to be busy or distracted. Honestly, I don't think war is the time for good writing. I think maybe good writing, or God help us, Good Writing might happen once you get home, once you get free and have some time to look back. I think the best I can do now is narrate. Sort-a.

 

So, here's what I have to say: Buy some running shoes. If I were to be really honest about the level at which my current sanity depends on my running two or three miles a day(really, that's not much), well, it might be worrisome to you Dear Reader. The thing is, for that twenty or so minutes while I'm knocking out distance, I feel a little bit free. I also feel a little bit free when I'm reading or playing music, but there's something different about the physicality of running.

 

To have your body fully engaged is to have your soul freed.

 

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Also, and I'm not going to downplay this, I'm going to be about to fit into some cute cloths when I get back. Yes, sadly, the combination of going off HRT and running had more or less erased the curves, they'll come back. It's going to rock.

The Failure of Gender Definitions

So, I'm still out here Dear Reader.  Yes, I know I am awful about updates, but there are people trying to kill me and the other people around me, so you know what?  It's not unreasonable to expect a break.  I do feel hella guilty about the hit to my writing though.  I think that maybe this is one of those times when I'm building up experiences that can be written about for a long, long time.

 

On to business, this deal about Caster Semenya is fascinating to me.  First, I think that it is kind of horrible that the official response to a women being a badass athlete is to suspect her of cheating. That's lame. As some of you know, I am a huge fan of the Tour d' France.  Cycling is a sport that has been all but brought down by doping and that kind of cheating is toxic.  At it's best, sports is an expression of what all of humanity is capable of.  In my opinion, screwing the rules says all the wrong things about humanity.

 

However, what ever the truth about Semenya turns out to be, she certainly rocks the running.  I hope that she has come by it honestly.

 

That said, I a thrilled to see a sort of open and honest discussion on the lack of definiteness of gender assignment.  It's nice to see people openly admitting that gender is not just a 0 or a 1. It's complex, there's much more going on.  It is a pleasant change to watch as Semenya forces people to think about their basic understandings of maleness and femaleness.  Think about the realities of those things.

 

Once people realize that there is more to gender than certain stereotypical physical traits it throws them for a loop.  As for being trans, if males can be XX and females can be XY, then what males a "real" man or woman?  Unfortunately, the answer I have seen tossed around is the ability to bear children.  This reminds me unpleasantly of the South Park episode where Mr./Ms. (and God knows I hate putting it like that, but it's a cartoon, it is trying to be offensive, and that's what is going on) Garrison transitions back to male after a mtf sex change the season before.  Garrison goes through all this because Garrison is convinced that the definition of real gender is in the ability to either father or bear a child.

 

Of course, South Park rarely comes entirely down on one side or the other.  The episode ends with another teacher telling Garrison than his wife is infertile.  Garrison responses stupidly, saying the teacher better get an HIV test 'cause he's sleeping with another man.  Everybody's offended and now end scene.

 

But, however stupid, the point does get across.  Because, any universal or hard and fast definition of gender is so full of holes that it is laughably stupid.  We kinda are what everyone accepts us as.  It's a shitty definition but, hey, hopefully I'll be alright with it once I'm out on the closet and more fully transitioned.  Selfish?  Oh yeah. But it's the truth.

 

Anyway, I got to get back to breathing sand and smoke from the oil well fires. There should be something new up at least once a week.  Stick around.  But never, never come to Iraq. This place is kind of lame.

Two Roads Converge

Well Dear Reader, I remain quite busy.  I think you often, but have had deeply limited internet access as of late. That said, I will try to do better.

 

Apology aside, I'm currently reading "The Language Of God" by Francis Collins and it is absolutely wonderful.  Admittedly, I am pretty awful at science.  The worst grades I got in any courses in college with in biology and chemistry classes. All the memorization, the lab works, etc, there was nothing about those classes I was skilled in.  In fact, science nearly endangered my college enrollment before things got turned around.

 

Despite all of that, the implications of science are fascinating to me. That we poor humans can learn the truth about the workings of the universe, a truth that doesn't depend on a certain way of thinking, a certain set of ideas or ideals just amazes and delights me.

 

Collins is a person who finds the hope of God in the great complexity and reality science describes.  He shows a faith that is big and strong enough to survive contact with reality.  He's able to maintain a faith without denying the basic truths about the world we live in.

It's awesome.

I'm also reading a book, Luke Timothy Johnson's "Living Jesus," that, true to its title, discusses the reality of the living Jesus.  Not just the dude who lived 2,000 years ago, but the person who is alive today and still working in the world.  The book's point is that when Christians move from celebrating the Holy Mysteries of the Resurrection to treating these miracles as problems to be solved, we miss the point. Somehow I think the views of these two books work together.

 

Now hear me out.  I think that figuring out the mechanics of God's Magic is crap game that misses the point.  Christ's message is how to treat each other like human beings.  To read it looking for esoteric clues seems to me a rejection of His message.  It's saying to Christ, "What you were telling us, that whole 'do unto others' and 'don't judge,' and 'love each other,' that's not good enough. We need strange teachings to make us better than other people."

 

But I seem to be rambling.

 

More later.  Affectionately yours,

 

CombatQueer

Sargeant Manny

Well Dear Reader, I have got to tell you my theory on NCOs.  NCOs are non-commissioned officers.  Basically, we're talking about corporals and every species of sergeant.  Now, there are many good NCOs out there.  One of my daily hopes is that you are reading the blog of one, even though there are many places where I could do better serving the folks who work for me.  It's a trite thing for commanders who treat their units like crap to say, but NCOs really do run the Army at a very basic level. But friends, sadly there is many a sergeant out there who could rightly be called a "bafoon."

There is one such sergeant in my unit who has been hanging around the armory for years.  He's stayed on through an ever moving stream of commanders, first sergeants, sergeant majors, everyone. This is a person who has happily maintained his rank of sergeant, E-5 and shown no ambition of ever advancing further.  I once asked a friend of mine who has been in the S1, a former beurocrat if you will, how long it's been since this sergeant put in a promotion packet.  My friend, who's been with
the unit more than a decade, gave me a blank look and said, "never, as far as I know."

This sergeant, let's call him Manny, nevertheless has the single most concern for appearances of anyone I have ever met.  He is always pointing out to people how things would fall apart without him.  Manny's always reminding his soldiers of, what he assumes, is their absolute incompetence in his abscense.

Despite his belief that not a one of his soldiers have the brains to shave unless he instructs them to each morning, SGT Manny regularly fails to remember all the members of his squad by name.  Hilariously, he often believes that soldiers from other parts of the unit are in his squad.  In fact, he once complained to out his first sergeant that a certain PFC was never showing up for formations. A PFC who, it turns out, wasn't even in the same company.

However, SGT Manny's most delightful trait reveals itself after any formation where information is put out.  After these formations, he gathers his soldiers around him and puts the information out again.  Now, don't misunderstand me, plenty of responsible NCOs do this sort of thing.  Saying it twice is a good way of making sure people hear it.  However, what sets SGT Manny apart is how he gets the information wrong.  Instead of repeating the actual information, he angrily and forcefully says whatever sounds good to his own ears.  Thus misinformed, SGT Manny's soldiers  spread across the hinterlands looking for the right place to be.

Now, Dear Reader, don't think I'm being too judgmental.  There's a simple equation I use judge leaders.  At the top of numbers one through ten, you rate how much a leader honestly cares and works for her or his soldiers' well being. On the bottom, you rate how much recognition a leader wants.  Simple and easily mastered criteria.  Guess how SGT Manny measures up?

Live from Klatch

Hey there Dear Reader, I want to apologize for the gap in posting.
As happens occasionally to those off in a war zone, I have
been incredibly busy for the past two weeks. I've been posting things
written before I headed in country, but uh, my little store has run
out, so I'm going to have to start writing new stuff.

Arg.

Anyway, due to security concerns, I still can't tell you many
details about where I am. On one hand, there are people very nearby
trying to kill not only me, but also every other American and
Coalition individual with whom we're working. The possibility that
something I say here could be used to harm one my people here terrifies
me.  It has actually given me the sweaty, awful nightmares that aren't
immediately blinked away by the daylight. My first priority is making sure
that my people are safe. Telling the truth about being a queer in the
Army, for the moment, comes in a distant second.

The other reason I need to be careful is that, hey, queer in the Army,
don't what to get outed, beaten to death, all that fun stuff.

So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to keep talking. We going
to call this place "Klatch." All you Terry Pratchett fans out there
enjoy the reference. For those of you who have not read the stories of
the disk world, please, go out and read some Prachett books. I
recommend starting with either Feet Of Clay or Going Postal. Both are
wonderful.

Without further ado, straight from Klatch, here's the Combat Queer.

Derek Webb's "What Matters More"

Dear Reader, I'm about to do something that I have promised many people I would never, ever do. I am about to buy a Contemporary Christian Music album. 

Like, gosh. 

I would rather be dragged behind a truck, have my kneecaps smashed in with a soup can in a sock, and have my teeth pulled out by a meth addict looking for gold than listen to most Contemporary Christian Music. Message aside, that stuff tends to be the most boring, trite, worthless rock n' roll one could ever fear running across. 

I have been avoiding it for years. Shocking though, a friend of mine just sent me a link to an amazing song. Here is that link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s5pBXY2AkeY

The song is called "What Matters More" and is done by a fellow named Derek Webb. I know nothing about this singer, and have not listened to any of his other work. I have avoided his genre because I have always found it to be either boring or hateful. I am delighted and amazed by this song.

This song is pitch perfect. The tone of the singer, the message of the lyrics, it shocks me. I am always terrified by the possibility of being lured back into an abusive church, but friends, this fellow sounds like he knows what he's talking about. This dude seems to understand that the American Church has been hijacked by homophobes who what to push their genital politics one the masses and leave no room for love or discussion.

I am thrilled to see Christians talking this way. I am thrilled to see people who don't want to sell the name of Christ to the lower bidder. I am thrilled to see people acting like human beings.

I have not heard any of the other songs on Webb's new album, but I'm gonna give it  try. It may take me a few days, but I'll give y'all a report of what I think of it. 

Let's all hope and pray that more Christians move in this direction.

 

Why Is It That The Minute I Get Off Base And Drunk I Become Lonely?

So Dear Reader, I'm getting a sort-a kinda-a break from the Army this weekend. Deal is, I don't have to do any work, but I can't leave the immediate area of the base. The past couple of weeks have been a bear(there's been a small amount of mauling), so I decided to throw away some money on a hotel room off post. Now this is the kind of place that normally would be used by some PV2 to order some anonymous tail and loose his virginity, but hey, I get a little privacy and am not bugged to death by the drunkenness of my idiot roommates.

In other news, here my own drunkenness neither bugs anyone, nor can later be brought up while I'm chewing out one of my subordinates for being too hungover to make in to PT formation. Go me, and go my planning. 

I'm actually planning to spend the next two days eating fried food, drinking cheap beer, and reading that biography of Charles Schulz that came out last year or so. I'm wicked excited.

Also, because I'm like six years behind the times, I just discovered the New Pornographers(yes, I heard the singer on NPR's Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me last weekend. I own exactly zero cool points of my own). Gosh they rock. I will be listening to Mass Romantic and Twin Cinema all weekend. 

Oh, and the title of the post? Basically every time I get away from the Army for even the briefest moment I am confronted by the fact that I'm thousands of miles away from the people I love. There is not a single individual within a thousand mile radius with whom I could have a face to face conversation in which I admitted to being trans. 

It's kind of lame and it makes me sad.

But I'll spare you the whining. People are dying in Iraq and the fact that I wish I have has a sarcastic, queer,  trans-friendly, short dark haired girl with whom to spend some time, well, in the grand scheme of things, I'll probably get by.

Anyway, I'll be back to bitch about the news tomorrow or Monday.