8.23.2003

they are showing up...in strange uniforms...most of them brand new...with little colored flags on their sleeves...from far away places like portugal...and estonia...and south korea....they are here in one'zees and two'zees...little groups that stick together...they walk around big eyed...taking everything in...

the 'coalition of the willing' is finally starting to show up...it's 6 months into this thing...and i can't say that i blame them...i remember seeing the first groups...the south koreans...or R.O.K. army as they are known...in super crisp d.c.u.'s...in the R.O.K. army you can be beaten for disobeying an order...and it is mandatory that south korean men serve a term of service...talk about scary...

the aussies are here...in bigger numbers than the rest...and they are some of my favorite...i've never met a nation of people who are more friendly...they would literally give you the shirt off their backs...which...coincidently i have tried to trade american camouflage uniforms for...their camo pattern kind of resembles cow spots...and i would love to have some of their pants...to sport at the club...they've also got the biggest floppiest hats you have ever seen...there is so much brim to these things that the aussie soldiers don't even try to control it...but i bet it keeps the sun off...their weapons are straight out of the future...a big difference from the M-16 which hasn't really changed much looks wise in the last 30 years...one of the coolest features about the aussie weapon is the clear magazine...you can see exactly how much ammo you have left...

i was just in the chow hall for breakfast...and many different nationalities of soldiers were eating...eyeing our american bacon...wondering why it is burnt to a crisp...and i was checking these soldiers out...the balken and former soviet republic soldiers just have a certain look about them...even if they weren't in uniform i could probably gather from the shape of their faces that they were definitely not american...

some of these countries wear the old skool american desert uniforms...the cookie uniforms...because they kind of look like chocolate chip cookies...but they wear them very well...and you can look right at these uniforms and see impeccable creases and unstained trousers...they are brand spanking new and hot out of the factory...i get the feeling these countries offering their support want to make a good impression...they want to be seen as professional world powers...and helpful allies...but still they are only here...so far...in one'zees and two'zees...

but i wonder...how many of my troops would i send from mojaland...to take the burden off a country that started a war...and quite possibly bit off more then their it's '1st world mouth' could chew...how many troops would i be willing to quite possibly sacrifice so that american troops could hop on a plane...and head back to the great states of america...how willing would my coalition really be...can i really blame them...

it would be nice to see whole butt loads of dutch soldiers...and portuguese...and macedonians...and moroccans...but i'm not going to hold my breath...the bombing of the u.n. building was probably the dumbest thing the militants could of done...i hope that the moron that thought up that ingenious plan to oust the occupying forces from iraq was driving the cement truck filled with explosives...because someone who has that little common sense should not be in charge of other human lives...

i'm feeling an increased number of u.n. troops in this area in the near future...and the tides of this war are a changing...but maybe not so much in the ways that we would expect...america doesn't want to relinquish it's power over this country...but it also doesn't want the burden of rebuilding to fall solely on it's shoulders...it wants it's cake and to eat it too...preverbaly speaking of course...

i remember reading that the u.n. didn't want american support from our military...it didn't want to be seen as part of our occupying force...but i don't think that the militants care to much for world national groups...or the subtle differences of outside forces now staking a 'claim' on a country thrown into chaos...no matter how good for this country that 'claim' may be...i just wish that these militants could see that it is a hell of a lot easier to destroy then it is to rebuild...pushing a button and creating a crater takes no effort...picking up a hammer and driving a nail...well that takes work...

and maybe that advice could be tossed back and forth like a volley ball...

8.22.2003

finally some pictures of my shower trailer...i say 'my' cause i cleaned it like it was my kid...on my hands and knees...join the army...travel to a hot and distant land...meet people of an intresting and ancient culture...and clean up 'freedom pubes'...while the militants shoot mortars at you while you sleep...how could i not love my job...

i sure do wish i had G.'s eye and his camera...go look at his if you want to see some real intresting stuff...

8.21.2003

they had steak...it's become sort of a weekly thing...you can smell it for miles because it is grilled...by little brown guys working over flaming pits of steak grilling goodness...they're cooking a lot of them...because there are a lot of us...i love those guys...they make me happy...just to see them out there...grilling steaks for us...in the heat...it makes me want to give them hugs...they start real early in the day...around lunch time...so that there will be enough ready for dinner...there are that many of us here...and who doesn't love a steak...i can't stand eating meat off the bone...but for some reason i will savor the sweet succulent savoriness of a choice u.s.d.a. T bone...so good...

and i'm hyped...we get there...to the chow hall...we expect a line...a massive line...just like everyday...but especially today...you can usually gauge the numerical value of the days meal by the equivalent length of line waiting to get inside the white chow hall doors...we get there...and mysteriously...there is no line...questionable...to say the least...we wash our hands...with the yellow dish soap that is provided...in the sinks they have made outside the door...

than we are on the porch...there are signs every where...signs that say things like 'no smoking in line'...which cause people to stand 10' to the side of the line and smoke their cigarettes...and more signs like 'no dirty or sweaty p.t.'s'...but if you are in your d.c.u.'s you can role around in the mud 4 seconds before they hand you a plate and they will say nothing to stop you...and then the most famous sign of all...'5 soldiers in the porch area at all times'...that sounds pretty demanding...it's like a regulation...so every time i get into the little roofed porch area right in front of the door...i announce to the rest of the line..."the signs says 5 in here at all times...c'mon we need three more guys in here...let's go!!!"...so then 5 hungry dirty nasty soldiers are crammed into the little wooden porch...and the soldier in charge of the door opens it a crack to tell more soldiers to come in...and there is a look of surprise because we all stand as close the door as possible..."what are you guys doing"...we all look at the sign..."just following regulations"...then she will say "alright two more soldiers"...and the guy in front of me will go in and i will go in leaving Trizenk behind...and he gets mad...because this honestly happens everyday...except for the days that he is in front of me...

and inside i can smell the steak...and my mouth is watering...i take my white picnic plate and white picnic silverware...and i'm there...right in front of the steak..."what the..."...they are white...as white as my picnic plate..."why are they white"..."is that even cooked"...how the hell do you turn a steak white...i mean it's a big steak don't get me wrong...but white???

Trizenk is finally inside with me...he chooses to do with out vegetables tonight...so that he may focus his full concentration on the cow that they slap down on to his plate...

i walk from the line...looking down at my meat with a questioning stare...but i am not one to complain about steak...

i personally like to toast bread...take some lettuce from the salad bar...and a little steak sauce and make a nice thick steak sandwich...i wait for the toast to come out the other side of the toasting conveyor belt machine...there is two slices already laying the tray on the bottom...i look at my toast...not even half way through...i look back at the perfectly browned white bread...sitting there begging me...urging me..."c'mon man you know you want me"...i give in to temptation...i sin...yoink...

at the table...we cram in back by the far wall...you have to dodge...and always remain on the look out for 'short stoppers'...and 'quick turners'...they can ruin the meal...

i make my sandwich...carefully...the meat is in fact cooked...but it's still white...needless to say...i'm cautious...the sandwich isn't half bad...but it's not exactly half good either...Trizenk ask how it is..."it's dry"...so i add more A-1...still kind of weird..."ahh screw it"...time for some ice cream...

the arab guy behind the table serving up the ice cream scoops me out a strawberry and a vanilla...i desperately need to work past the steak let down...

back at the table...i spoon into the strawberry...and into my mouth...it has the consistency of oatmeal...and it is gooey...and i throw the spoon down...and i yell..."THE STEAK IS DRY...THIS ICE CREAM IS HORRIBLE...HOW CAN THEY REALLY EXPECT US TO FIGHT A WAR UNDER THESE MERCILESS AND INADEQUATE CONDITIONS!!!"...Trizenk starts laughing immediately...and some other guys do too...the ones that get the joke...but most of the troops stare at me like i have a scrotum attached to my head...eh what can you do...

8.20.2003

i think i've got worms...holy crap...i've got to turn in my computer to the sysadmin...i'm not sure when i'll get it back...i've got a lot of returned emails that i didn't write with .pif attachments...watch yourselves...people are crazy...
the comments are dead...i know that many people enjoyed them for the discussion value...many good things were said there...but i was finding myself growing angrier and angrier with narrow minded people who wish to question my allegiance and my 'true colors'...to many people called me a whiner because of my different take on this whole thing...if you would like to read the super positive everything is A-OK view point check out lt. smash...he's an excellent writer and from my take on his words...he agrees whole heartedly with all that is happening...that is his prerogative...this is mine...if you don't like it...don't read on...

i do see the reasons that we are here...the good and the bad...i do hear the explosions...and i see the smoke billowing into the sky...the militants are blowing up all hope of peace with car bombs...we do it with B-2 bombers...there are 2 sides to everything...and in a case like this there are probably more along the lines 60...each one just as important as the last...

my personal life has been on the fritz for about the last week...and i chose to write about it...because it was the most important thing to me at the time...cnn and fox news should always take a back seat to your own emotional welfare...the news is always the same and it is not extremely healthy to dwell on...i thought i would let you guys in an the whole sha-bang of being a soldier here in iraq...life goes on with out you...and there is more to this deployment then unbridled patriotism and u.s. foreign policy...we are soldiers...and we are people...some of us hurt...some of us agree...and some of us don't care one way or the other...while some will even volunteer to stay longer...i won't be one of them...

this is a journal...i write a few pages a day...and many of you think that these pages sum me up as a person and as a soldier...why don't you flip the wig and sum your self up in a page and a half a day...see how accurate the world takes that all in...

being in the military is not an easy thing...if it were then everyone would be doing it...and i find it laughable that some would actually assume that we could keep a pristine attitude about it all...while scrubbing our internal 'red white and blue' each night before bed...whipping it clean of all the nastiness that builds up daily...last time i checked the only internal color i have is red...just like you...and tony blair...and osama...and martha stewart...and kim jong-il...and even the dallas cheerleaders...i believe in america...i believe that america was founded on ideals that are inherently good...and i believe in americans...for the most part...but i also believe in others...from all over and every walk of life...this is not a cut and dry thing...and those that limit themselves to that view point miss out on so much...they remain ignorant of the real picture...the 360' surround sound dolby digital masterpiece that is showing daily 'free to all' (as tyler durden would say)...

8.19.2003

thor has posted new pictures of his 'kuwaiti tree house'...check them out...and maybe at some point in the near future i'll get some new pictures of all this stuff up for everyone...stay safe
i've never claimed to be hard core...i know that i've got it good...compared to most...the internet...the phone...it's my job...that's what i do...so i get full access to them...sorry...my bad...

the infantry pukes get my full respect...they always have...in fact i've got two here right now...i've never turned down a soldier when he's asked to use the internet or the phone...i'm not a communications nazi...i do share the wealth...i know that i've got it good...but everything is relative...and just because i've got it better then joe infantry puke does not mean i hop out of the rack every morning eager to attack another baghdadi day...

i think it is just human nature to look down on people that have it better then you...so yes 'joe' their are probably some infantry guys who look down on me and think that i am not a real soldier...and those same troops that would think less of me because of my better living conditions would not be turned down if they asked to use my phone...and like i've said a 100 times...i did not join to blow stuff up...i picked a good job that will yield me an impressive salary when i hit the civilian world next year...sorry again...

some people are very side tracked by their own view points...wondering about my internal colors...if i'm 'red white and blue'...climb down off your high horse...take a trip to a nice third world country...and be hated for a while...feel the blunt end of hypocrisy...all is not well...and it is definitely not fair...

when you are right in the middle of the news...when the decisions that are made for you in the white house directly affect your life and the lives of those you love...it starts to change your view point...and yes i have been known to think about american foreign policy in terms of how it will directly effect my life...i don't like war...and i don't like deployments...and for the past few years they have been my life...so come on 'mary'...raise your hand...and hop on the next plane out here...don't forget your patriotism...and your book about the evil evil religion of islam...sit in the sun...bake for a while...watch your personal life disintegrate from the other side of the earth...try to work it out over a shitty phone line...maybe you'll succeed...like i have this time...or maybe you will fail...like i did in bosnia...and don't forget all the reasons you are here...the reasons that seem to change with the moon...do your part...because i've done mine...
man...things can get screwed up...and there is something to be said for being a spectator in the chaos of your own life...a total lack of control...and all you can really do is hear about the days events over the phone...and give suggestions as to what you would hope your loved ones will do...

unless you've experienced anything like it...you have no idea as to the amount of confinement it puts your view of life under...trapped...imprisoned...helpless...but still you try to sort it all out...at odd hours...on bad phone lines...from the other side of the world...life does not pause for your deployment...but you've got to put on that military face...and try to act professional...because you don't have time for depression...or a loss of bearing...but you'll make it through...you have to...your not 20 anymore...and you've got some life experience behind you to help push you along...

and the normal everyday annoyances are amplified...your reactions are blown way out of proportion...so you go nuts at people...like the female soldier relaxing her hair in the shower right in the middle of the male shower hours...and she gives you a little bit of attitude when you say something about it...and you go way over the top...standing there...in the sun...with shower trailer door wide open...people watching...her eyes all wide...hands paused on her tilted head...and she says "alright man give me a minute"...and you leave pissed...through the dirt...feet muddy...flip flops flapping...back to the tent...and you sit down on your cot...staring at everything that you stare at everyday...your 2 boxes of water that you use as a nightstand...the top box ripped and caving in on itself...your dirty rug...covered in dried mud...the stained tent floor...your laundry bag that is over flowing and in desperate need of attention...but you can't build up the nerve to even start...because you don't care anymore...and then you lay down...and there it is...the ceiling...right above your cot...and you know every wrinkle...every fold...every bar of the tent...and you want to scream...or cry...

but you don't...you call home...and talk it over...all of it...in every detail...and some how it makes it better...the knowing...there are no more questions...no more misconceptions...and it wasn't as bad as your imagination would have you think...still not so good...but not nearly as bad...and you start to heal...slowly...it takes time...

you get dressed...with the new brown t-shirts that you just bought at the p.x...because your old ones are so over used that the necks are at least 3 feet around...and you could probably put the shirt on from the bottom up...sliding it up over you waist...and around your shoulders...so you wear them backwards because the neck slouches so bad in the front...and a stretched out neck on those brown shirt just looks so 'soup sandwich' as they say...dirt bag...

and then you get in your hmmv...unlocking the pad lock around the steering wheel...because hmmv's don't have key ignitions...you just flip that switch to the left of the wheel...the kevlar on...it's regulation to wear it while driving...because in the off chance of a vehicle accident....the kevlar might save your life...during a head on collision...at 60 mph...with another hmmv...right...

and then you’re off to the motor pool...it's dusty...and the speed limit is 10 mph...because soldiers are dying on the road ways...people are getting hit my hmmv's...soldiers with kevlars on their heads aren't paying attention...and there is a blind spot in the hmmv...it's unbelievably huge...due to the windshield pillar to the left and the oversized mirrors...so you don't see people that are right in front of you...and then they give you bad looks...and they yell...

at the motor pool...you open up the freezer...the freezer we lugged all the way across the planet...for the sole purpose of cold water...we weren't so smart in afghanistan...you learn lessons...always with the lessons...and the mistakes...you grab a bag of ice...the convoy it up from kuwait...sometimes the convoys come under attack or the roads get closed...so the ice isn't a regular thing...it's sporadic...but you check anyway...today you are lucky...and you take a bag...one of the frozen blocks...not the cubes...the blocks last longer...in the cooler...the one you used to wash clothes in before the ice convoys...you keep the cooler inside the little van on the back of your hmmv...with the water...because if you leave it outside...it heats up hotter then one would think...to hot to touch your skin let alone drink...

and into work...another day...your soldier sitting on the cooler...the water inside brown and nasty but you don't drink that water...you put water bottles in it...you drain some of the nasty water to make room for the ice...your soldier gets excited...over ice water...

and the entire time you feel like your watching everything from 2 feet behind your head...it's all so trivial...and tedious...and mundane...but it is important...so you keep on...and all of this is normal...and everyday...and another night closer to home...which is growing nearer everyday...but not nearly fast enough...

8.18.2003

i had to talk to a friend of mine today...thor...i need some kind of perspective...a different perspective...it's really to easy to get yourself all worked up over your own emotions...sometimes you need a close friend to step in a say "whoa boy"...he's one of my best friends from way back...there are many late nights and long days...new years 2000 in berlin...ms connexions in mannheim...the irish pub on wednesday quiz night...weekends weekends weekends...because that is what it's all about in germany...

i can go to him...i'm lucky like that...when the off chance arrives where i need to go outside the loop...he's there...in fact he's closer then anyone else right now...kuwait...

and he understands so much...just like i do...because we have been there and done that...3 times over...we've made the mistakes and saved the days...it's good to understand...it comes in handy...

i will get passed this point in my life...i will move on...and things will be as they once were...i'm growing closer to the day that i will leave this place...they are saying the 1st...i'll believe it when i see it...i'm going home with a different perspective on everything now...because of the war...because of love...because of friends...and because of mistakes...i'm strong and i do understand what it is to ere...i do realize that it takes super human strength to be more then only human...like i've said...i've been there and done that...three times over...most of us have...

thor will sit the rest of his day in a metal box of a guard shack...staring at the desert...baking in his own personal oven...he promised to take more pictures of his views...he forgets that everything that is so plane jane every day to him is new and exciting and amazing to the rest of the world...we all want to see...we will eat up the pictures of sand and hmmv's...chow lines and pegged out thermometers...and he will be leaving shortly as well...hopefully his homecoming will be a bit more of the expected...the normal type stuff...the unquenchable happiness...sustained for a period of weeks...burning bright and strong in the american sun...home again...

we both hope that we will fly together...up and out of here...i could dream for nothing better...nothing would cap this whole wretched thing off with a better ending then that...airline drunkenness...they better stock well...because we are thirsty...and tired...

and i will step off a plane...in my airport...and i will be there...on the ground...another long adventure at it's close...and i will promise to myself...to those i love...to everything in it's home grown glory...that i will never leave for these reasons again...i will never have to do this once more...my time will be up...my duty fulfilled...my people relieved...my heart content...my life at peace...

8.17.2003

many people are writing me requesting info on how to get packages to the troops...well the troops always need more loving and the good people at operationmilitarypride.org are in need of all the help you can give...they are a great organization devoted to helping out us soldiers...check them out...we all would appreciate it over here...
i don't know what it is about me...when i get really upset...i mean really really mortified...my body wants to sleep...right then and there...i can't help but passing out...like an over load switch has been thrown..."all systems red"...

how long would i have lasted if i was cro-magnon man...just chillin' out by my cave...doing the usual hunter gather type thing...and out of the corner or my eye...i spot it...the biggest freaking blood thirsty armadillo i've ever seen...and i would of course scream the cro-magnon equivalent of "GIANT FREAKING ARMADILLO!!"...which would of course come out like..."AAAAUUGGDODOLINGUSENCHILADA"...
then i would promptly pass out into a nice bite size morsel of snoozing fur covered meat pie...

i just woke up from my 'stress nap'...that's what i've dubbed them...they don't happen very often...at least not in the last few years...in fact i can only recall one in the last six...i guess my bi polar mind just shorts a circuit for about 30 minutes...and some internal rewiring needs to be accomplished before i can get on with my day and the problem solving of the situation...

the last time this happened i was actually in the frankfurt airport...in germany...i was flying home on leave from my post in mannheim...this whole time in my life was very trying...i had a girlfriend...a very bad one...she was quite the 'bad girl...trying to be good' type...the exact opposite of what i want...but i was young and dumb...and she was my first...she left germany...under less then dubious circumstances...to go live with my mother in the states...i was very young and dumb...

i paid a friend gas money to drive me out to the airport...it's a good 45 minute drive...he's cool about it...it's a saturday morning...he drops me off at the door...and thank him and fork over 10 bucks...i cart my bags to the line for british airways and park it...working my way up to check out...i reach the counter and i produce my ticket and my military i.d...which is all i've ever been told that you need to get on the flight...no passport necessary for u.s. military..."your orders please"..."wha"..."we need your leave orders"...holy crap balls...i looked right at them and left them in my room..."shit"...

i assure her i will be back...now what do i do...i've got to get somebody to bring them up to me...i'm so confused...i'm a young guy hopping on jetliner in germany for the first time...and i'm alone...and i don't know what i'm doing...but i've got my cell phone...i pull it out...the battery is almost dead...i push on the buttons...and the number goes through and it dies immediately...i'm really screwed...at least i thought so...

now the easy solution would be to just go buy a german phone card and make the calls...but i just bought an $800 plane ticket...which is a whole hell of a lot for a young private first class...and i'm broke as a joke until next payday...

then the realism of the situation begins to set in...no one back at the base has any idea that i'm not getting on the plane...i have no way to call anyone...and my plane is about to leave which voids an extremely expensive ticket...i'm frantic...and horrified...i stand there in the terminal...wide eyed and panicky...i stand there until the plane leaves...and then the circuit gets thrown...and i feel it..."DDDZZZZUUUWWWwwwww"...must sleep now...so i literally lay down right there on the ground...in the middle of the terminal...and i pass out...at least a good 45 minutes...

i wake up quite refreshed and eager to problem solve...because i have to solve problems right now..."what can i do...what can i do"...i was way to frantic before...to rushed...but now...i've got all the time in the world...so how can i solve this problem...problem one...i don't have my leave paper work...which creates problem two...i'm not flying with out it...which leads into problem three...if i don't get on a plane then i may have just stranded myself at the airport without a penny to my name...in a foreign country...where i don't speak the language so good...so...where can i make a free phone call...ahhhh...the u.s.o....there is one in the airport...i've been there before...now where is it...the frankfurt airport is huge...multibuildings...escalators going everywhere...and all the signs are in german...i can read a little bit...but not enough...i finally track it down...i get there...and yes they do have a d.s.n. (defense system network) phone...so i can call just about any where on the planet for free...i call up the staff duty desk back at battalion...i had to sign out there and they have a copy of my leave paper work...the sergeant at the desk is very helpful...and travels to another office on a saturday to fax it to me...problem one solution accomplished...

now problem two...my plane is gone...i look at my ticket for some kind of answer...it says that rescheduling costs 50 bucks...i'm broke...that's out...and i'm looking at all the small print...and there is a little blurb about british airways belonging to some big conglomerate of airlines...u.s. airways being at the top of the list...so i hop on an escalator...i walk...draggin a huge bag...because i didn't even have enough money to rent the cart...i stand in line for what seems like a small eternity...and i get a young german guy...who is clearly flaming gay...and i explain my hopeless predicament..."man i forgot this paper work and i already missed my plane because of it...and no one knows that i didn't get on the flight...and i don't have any money for a reschedule...and if you don't help i'm going to sit down in front of your desk and live there because i just moved to the airport...is there anything you can do"..."let me see your ticket"...i fork it over...he scans it...he types...the kind of typing you see in the movies...where they type for 30 seconds after asking you your first name..."how many bags do you have"..."just this one"..."ok you're going to have to hurry...the plane leaves in 10 minutes"..."WHA!! you can help me"..."yes"...i feel like kissing him...which by the looks of him...he wouldn't object to...he says that they will have to carry the bag down to the plane by hand...and i need to run...so i ruck up and i take off...problem two nuetralized...

they take my bags at the gate...and shuttle me in like royalty...i sit down...and i pass out again...but this is more of a relief sleep then a stress nap...i awake when they are bringing the drink cart by..."how much for something stiff"..."it's free on trans atlantic flights"..."re-he-healy...screwdriver please...and leave a few mini bottles of that vodka"...problem three solution completed...mission success...
something’s are so private and so personal that you shouldn't share them with anybody...something’s should go to the grave...honesty is not always the best policy...and the truth almost always hurts...

there are things that i will not share with anyone...there are secrets and fears that will die with me...because there isn't a need to know...the knowing in itself could always cause more problems...

i've been away for far to long...i've started to lose touch...i've dragged my love ones around the earth...keeping their lives in a constant turmoil because of my duty...my never ending duty...the duty that will not be relinquished until buddha knows when...they wait as patient as possible...for me and my home coming...only to watch me hop on a plane a few months later and do it all over again...and i have expectations...i expect them to live properly and do what’s right...but my expectations are unrealistic...my lifestyle is to hard...especially on those i love...and i'm not surprised...it is only a matter of time...which is unending in its effect...

i always had a feeling...well at least kind of...a little nagging feeling that i couldn't really put my finger on a reason for it's appearance...it was just there...biting at me...and i ignored it...but it ached like a splinter at the point of my index finger...

so i do what i'm supposed to do...i sit and i stare...and i think...back aching...sweating...and i do this for 12 hours a day...7 months of the year...and i keep in touch with phone calls and emails...and i pretend like i am there...but when i hang-up or log off...i'm right back here...staring at a rack of buzzing whirring equipment...blinking lights that tell me that every thing is A-OK...but that splinter that i poke tells me that everything is far from it...

so i move on...i move past these things...that i know now...that i wish i didn't...because how can i really sit here and stew in this van with these thoughts...for another 20 hour shift...in the dirt and heat of baghdad...

when the truth can only have negative effects on all of those in which it compromises...why would anyone really want to know...ignorance truly is bliss...

but with the truth comes ones ability to understand and know ones self...naivety is tossed to the way side and the dramatics of all are free to be dealt with...and learned from...because we are all school children...