Tony-Man vs September 11, 2001

Some wounds will never fully heal...

It is strange to think that it's only been 12 years, but at the same time, I can't believe it's been 12 years.  And just like the turd that's floating in someone's punch bowl at a fancy gala, everyone's talking about it.  I; too, despite my willingness to set it aside and concentrate on now, feel obligated to say my piece about that day.

I was a senior in high school.  And back in those days, I was still mostly unaffected by the cynicism of the world.  I was a happier person, and I lived my life because I loved my life.  Sure, I had my problems, I had my issues (because what High School Senior doesn't?), but I like many people at that age were still relatively untouched by the evils and horrors of this world.  And then the day came that changed the world, certainly not least: me.

On that day, I lost someone special to me.  I lost my then-girlfriend in the midst of explosions, falling debris, panic, smoke, confusion and terror.  I wasn't even sure what to think... I went numb.  I went cold.  I lost all sense of myself, and I'm sure that was the day the Tony-Man that I knew and admired disappeared.  Yes, America lost something that day, but I didn't even care about the bigger implications.  I didn't know how this event would fundamentally change who I was.  And for roughly a year and a half, I was on mostly autopilot.  For a year and a half, I didn't laugh, or cry, or get angry, and I began to lose my sense of self.  I stopped being social, I stopped trying to be everyone's friend, I felt a rift between myself and the world.  Because she was just that special.  When I finally felt like I could feel emotions again, I joined the Army.

I kept telling myself, that I was joining the Army, because I wanted to protect my friends, I wanted to protect my family, I wanted to do something worthwhile for my life.  I wanted to believe I was doing something noble, but really when you take away all the bullshit... I simply wanted... revenge.  I learned just how powerful my sense of vengeance was.  I was an ugly, ugly person inside.  And I wanted it in the name of self-righteousness.  I got to do something about it.  It wouldn't be long until I got my chance.

Because I got my chance to exact some sort of measure of revenge, I became darker, I became more morbid, I became something I had once hated.  It's a little funny now the contrast between what my aspirations were, and what I had compromised myself into even to this very day.  War changes a person.  Fighting in combat does things to a person.  Shooting a mother in front of her son, is not exactly a picnic.  Neither were other combat situations I found myself in.  I told myself that I hated to do it, sometimes even now I force myself to believe it... but at the time, such deaths felt... well, not good per say, but satisfying.  I felt justified.
 

I walked the city lonely,
memories that haunt will pass me by.
A murderer walked your streets tonight
Forgive me for my crimes
 

Don't forget that I was so young,
Paths so scared, and remember God
And country...

Only... I had my doubts that God was there.  Maybe, but if he was I didn't know it.  All I knew was that I had traded my humanity for revenge, and now I wonder if indeed I will ever fully reclaim it.  To be honest, I wonder if I truly ever had it to begin with.  September 11, 2001 was in some ways, the day that I died.  It's been twelve years now, and all I really want is for my nightmares to go away.  To find peace with myself.  To know that I am a good human being, a fine upstanding man, and someone that others could find love with.  Since that day, I've been a broken mess.  Even in the days when I thought I had all of my shit together, inside I'm a complete and horrid mess.  The worst part... is that I'm self-aware of my tragedy.  I may not have been literal, but I count myself as one of the unspoken casualties of that day.

Never forget.  And, I am not a hero...

A Tony-Man retrospective - Gargamel, the Godfather of Goth culture

Drat, Drat, and double drat!

Everyone knows Gargamel - or they should. This plucky fellow was the bane to all Smurfs. His only desire was the capture the Smurfs in his nefarious plot of the week. But has anyone really thought about Gargamel, the Man? Has anyone considered Gargamel's past, his possible motives, or the evidence of his deep emotional disturbance?

Gargamel spent every waking moment of his life pursuing the Smurfs. Ordinarily, if a man chased little blue men all week long, he'd be locked away. Luckily, as we can tell by the architecture of his home, Gargamel lived in the dark ages, when chasing woodland creatures for nefarious purposes was a time-honored tradition, along with bathing in urine, locking up women during menstruation, worshipping graven images, and beating up old people with long wooden poles. No one questioned a bald guy in a black nightgown who chased little men all the live-long day.

And let's talk about Gargamel's fashion sense, shall we? I think modern Goth culture owes a lot to Gargamel. The Smurfs hit the cartoon scene in 1981, just a year after The Cure's "Boys Don't Cry", but two years before Ministry or The Smiths debuted. Let's evaluate Gargamel's other Goth traits:

Gargamel lived alone with his cat

His cat was named "Azrael", after the angel of death. "Azrael" is quite possibly the most cliche Goth name ever.

Gargamel's own name is possibly a corruption of 'Gagiel', the angel of fish. Although a poor choice, it is still a very Goth thing to do. And it's better than "Drax, the Everliving".

Gargamel only wore black.

Gargamel's most hated enemies were folks who lived happy, carefree lives.

Gargamel used the word "wretched" like it was going out of style. He also overused the words "miserable" and "drat".

Gargamel's only female friend was a fat chick who constantly verbally abused him.

Gargamel's motions chasing after the Smurfs are not that far off from Goths dancing. Watch the reruns - trust me.

Gargamel at Goth Night?

More importantly, Gargamel represents the inner pain and struggle in all of us against the relentless forces that cause us to suffer. When Gargamel has the Smurfs in his clutches, only to have them escape, embarrassing him in the process, we all see our own dreams escaping from us. But we don't bang our heads off of trees as often as Gargamel does. And, again, our dreams don't employ woodland friends, like rabbits and deer, to thwart us.

No one need question Gargamel's motives. Obviously poverty-stricken (notice the patches on his clothes), and perhaps a war veteran (he did know how to make explosives out of common household items), Gargamel's poor appearance and male-pattern baldness created a romantic rift in his life. Sexually frustrated and living alone in a shack (much like the Unabomber), Gargamel was striking out at his own personal demons - little blue creatures, two apples tall, who enjoyed singing and wore only pants and hats. We all have to fight our own demons. We hope that they don't live in mushroom houses, but occasionally, they do.

Gargamel seemed extremely intelligent on the surface - a complex vocabulary, a knowledge of alchemy, and a seemingly infinite knowledge of the arcane. However, there are slight flaws that show us he lacked in the common sense department. For instance, why did he always wear that dress if he knew he was going to be chasing Smurfs all the time? It doesn't look like that outfit gave his legs a lot of room to run.

Furthermore, Gargamel should have realized that targeting Smurfette was the key to getting the Smurfs. If Smurfette were re-captured (recall that Gargamel created Smurfette to trick the sexually-deprived Smurfs), every Smurf in the village would go searching for her - or as they say in Smurf, "Go lookin' fo' dey ho". If Gargamel could capture Smurfette, then he would control the means of production - he could (theoretically) breed Smurfs.

(Of course, the breeding habits of Smurfs remain a mystery. We are never told where Smurfs come from or, more importantly, why they all call the guy in red "Papa".)

With the power of Smurf breeding (which I honestly hope will be a technological development in the next version of Civilization), Gargamel could make a commercial empire based on the Smurfs - just like Hanna-Barbera did in the 1980's. Unfortunately, Gargamel lacked the chutzpah and motivation that was so necessary to succeed in the harsh business climate of the 11th century.

There is an important lesson to learn from Gargamel - keep your mind on your goal. Gargamel could never seem to decide if he wanted to eat the Smurfs, turn them into gold, use them in some bizarre arcane ritual, or pose them playing pool and laquer them. Because Gargamel never stuck to his goals, he was doomed to failure. So remember, kids, put your goals down in ink, and don't stray from the path.

And if you see little blue men, for God's sakes, just leave them alone.

The Infraggable Tony-Man vs Independence Day (2013)

If I can be completely honest, (and I'm going to be because who's going to stop me?) I simply hate Independence Day.  Not the movie, not the idealism behind the patriotism, but the day.  Many Americans have forgotten that on July 4, 1776 the colonial states of America (as they were so called then) declared themselves Independent from Great Britain, in an effort to achieve self-governance.  Yet, the very nation that America declared Independence from did not recognize it until 1783.  A good seven years after.  Americans in this time frame also don't realize that the Continental Army was created on June 14, 1775, slightly more than a year before declaring Independence.

I don't really like how Independence Day has evolved since this tumultuous time.  I don't really like how a lot of our military holidays have come about due to tragic times.  Independence Day, Veteran's Day, and I think now even 9/11 is considered some sort of holiday now.  And if it isn't, I'm sure it will be soon.  Okay, I get it, we're Americans, and we like to bloat everything up, because we like to think of ourselves as a powerful and wealthy nation.  Which, when compared to the entirety of earth... we are.  I get that Americans like to eat and blow shit up.  Hell, I think as a nation, eating, blowing shit up, and killing people are still the three things we do best.  What I don't get is how such an important day like our nation's Independence Day, has become what it is.

Mind you, it's not a bad thing, it's just weird.  We have Bar-be-ques, we mess with fireworks, because nothing says a land of freedom than blasting a small piece of it apart.  And in my family, in years past, we have the traditional family argument, which happens every Easter, Independence Day, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.  We have movies that celebrate Independence Day, even those with Will Smith in it, that really has nothing to do with our actual Independence Day, and it was really a marketing decision by the Director and Writers.  If the movie was called like... Arbor Day, or Labor Day... no one would have seen it.  They would have been like, "What Canadian Boxer's Day?  Get the fuck out of here."  The movie is too cliche now, and I wish they would stop showing it.  I mean, the movie's good... but they keep cramming it down our throats.

I don't like how people are ignorant of the facts behind the importance of Independence Day, but I hate even more how it's really just an excuse to take a day off from work.  I've been out of work for more than a year.  I've been looking for any kind of a job since April 2012.  I would kill for a job right now, and to be able to work on any day of the year.  While I was in the Army, and yes... I've been in combat zones, and I've had to use my weapon on several occasions, I didn't get Independence Day off.  I didn't get Christmas off, I didn't get anything.  People who have never been in a combat zone, who speak about the pride and sacrifice that Americans have made, tend to irk me, when they speak to me as if they know more than me.  I have been there.  Why do non-militants always puff themselves up with false patriotism on this day, and then act like their usual douchebag selves until the next holiday?  I don't get it.

Oh, and the fireworks.  I'm sure some people can agree with me, those brothers and sisters in arms especially.  We just don't like fireworks.  For me, it reminds me of the sounds of combat.  It triggers those memories that we want to forget.  I'm not very comfortable around fireworks, though I always like to try to conquer my discomfort and fear of them.  Sometimes I succeed, until the next year, sometimes I don't.  What's even more annoying is when you have to listen to them on the day before.  What's up with that?  And they're always the type of fireworks where you hear like a hundred popping noises, which makes you think of the rapid fire of guns, but no one ever cares to ensure that the neighborhood you live in is okay with it, because of faux patriotism.  The last thing I need to hear is gunshot-like fireworks when I'm trying to sleep.

I've been out of the Army for four years now.  But I still have nightmares about my time in Iraq, Afghanistan, and the Horn of Africa near Somalia.  I feel that the antics of Today's Fourth of July is just America wallowing in its once prestigious and honored past.  Now we have people more involved in the Jersey Shore, than we do with real topics, like our economy, our unemployment rate, who's gay and who's straight.  We have fucked up priorities.  And maybe, because I've never really had a "good" Fourth of July, I might be bitter, but I don't think that devalues my thoughts on this mostly waste of a Holiday.

Tony-Man versus the YouTube

Once again, I have to cancel my plans for reviewing Iron Man 3.  Suffice it to say, that while I thought it was good, there were just things about it that in my opinion, kept it from surpassing its previous iterations.

Anyway, it's no secret that I've been feeling rather down on myself, so much so, that I pretty much hid away from a lot of people for about a month.  In that time, I've been doing a lot of self-reflection, and I've been wasting my precious time on somethings that I probably have no business attempting, but like all of my train wrecks in life, I have to see it through.  The latest endeavors; however, have been this amorphous blob of a thing called YouTube.  Most recently, I've been trying to become a "Let's Player" where basically, you just play a video game, and you comment about it, as you play.  Which sounds perfect for a guy like me, who likes to review things.  The trouble is, is that I don't have a decent microphone, so my voice tends to get lost in the music and sounds of the game.

The other thing, that I'm a little more proud of, is my Mario Paint Composer, where I pretty much take video game music, and recreate it, note by note, which usually sucks hours out of my life where I probably could be doing something a little more productive.  It's like all I know how to do is waste time.  But it keeps me from going mental.

I write this not really as a cry for help or attention, but really more to shamelessly promote this blog, and my YouTube Channel.

http://www.youtube.com/user/MushyUndTingly

You guys should like, subscribe, comment, and promote this channel.  Because I've got some pretty cool stuff coming that way.

Also, I have a friend of mine that I'm about to work in collaboration on a blog with.  The concept is pretty simple, we just take a bunch of stuff, like movies, or games, or music, or whatever, and we just go on an angry rant and rage about them.  More details as we figure them out.

So, I'm not going to say what the next topic on the Infraggable Tony-Reviews is going to be, because I personally don't know.  I know this was sort of self-advertising, but eh, what'cha gonna do?

Tony-Man vs Convictions, Faithfulness, and Boundaries

Okay, so I said I was going to do a blog about That 70's Show, but I've decided to put it off in favor of something a little closer and personal.

There are a lot of things I don't understand.  But one thing I do understand, is that it's not my fault.  Some things are my fault, other things aren't.  I'm largely guided by the loose parameters of my boundaries, but I've never been unfaithful to the definitions of my own convictions.  Therefore, some people may say things about me, and some people will say that I'm the monster that lives in the closet.  Some people will find that my kindness is obtrusive to other people, and that I have no interest in pleasing everyone.

So, maybe I don't explain myself all that well, and that I hurt on the inside, but reflect radiance on the outside.  I am who I have chosen to be, even if I don't know who that is in its entirety.  We've all been hurt by some person or another, for whatever fuckery that is going on at the time.  Perhaps that's why I tend to have friends who are a bit banged-up, a little damaged, have baggage and issues, and are admittedly imperfect.  I've always believed, when I was younger that I could be a superhero to these people and help them through their troubles, caring little for my own.  Now, I wonder if I've ever helped anyone at all, or if I'm just some stupid kid wearing underwear, and a towel.  I sit here, even now and scratch my chin, and I ponder the answer.

Oh, I know I've served the country, I know that I have helped people, in small little ways.  But have I ever helped anyone in any significant way, and do I stretch myself out thin?  As I type this, I really can't think of any significant contribution, really.  Then I think, maybe I'm looking too inwardly, and outwardly, that there is no bigger picture.  I'm not a bad person, no worse than your average person, filled with my own secrets, and white lies, and humanity.  But, why does that make me feel like I'm doing something wrong? 

More importantly, why am I explaining all this on this blog?  I laugh a little derisively, just typing this.  Like it's some sort of dark joke but the punchline is me, and I'm sure that I've already gotten off topic of what my original intent was.  I guess the bottom-line is this.  If I don't understand what's exactly going on in my universe, how am I to make the right choice?  If the existence of a state is meant to be one thing, but goes through a subtle yet dynamic change without the awareness of the observer, how then does one choose?  Or is this just me over thinking this exercise in futility again?

I intend to squeeze what fun I can from this life.  Considering the life I've lived, and the lives of those I have known, those I have lost through pain, death, misunderstandings, life, the passing of time, or because something better was on TV... I have missed out on great opportunities in life because of general stupidity, and destiny.  I've missed a lot of fun that I could have had, and I've missed out on great opportunity.  Even as I type this, I can see difficulties in my near future.  I can also see memories of fondness.

And that's not such a bad thing.  ...not such a bad thing at all.

Next time on the Infraggable Tony-Reviews:  "Iron Man 3:  This time it's not Iron Man 2."

Tony-Man versus the State of Life

You know... we as humans tend to be blind to most everything that extends past our little lives.  We fail to see the white, when we think our world is black.  Even the most optimistic of us tend to see life as gray.  Even though life isn't just black or just white, I've always wondered what life has in store for me.  And maybe, just maybe wondering isn't enough.  There comes a time in life when the child has to decide, and the adult has to act.  Where does that moment come, and when does it have to be?  Well... I'm sitting here at thirty years of age.  The time is nigh, I suppose.  Or maybe it's already come, and I just need to hop on that particular trolley.

Life's starting to become pretty cool.  And maybe for the first time, in many years, I'm beginning to look ahead, instead of looking down at my feet, in the now.  I got friends, I got family, and yeah... sometimes those things cause drama.  Sometimes that drama harkens back to high school, and you know... who cares, right?  Sometimes that drama is at levels that no sane person should understand.  And sometimes, the drama is so unnecessary, that it should become some sort of meme.  (Really?  the word "meme" is considered correctly spelled?!)  But, whatever it is, it's mostly healthy.  For how would we know the mountains, if we don't walk the valleys?

It's been a strange journey, thus far... and maybe I'm still a little young to really go back and be nostalgic about it, but at the same time... Why not?  I'm still trying to figure out this funny little muddle known as Tony.  Life and love come at the epicenter of my life, and I have always believed in the great good of the human soul.  And in this ever increasingly sedentary lifestyle that we as Americans, and indeed we as humans enjoy... that's saying a lot.

It's been a strange journey.  One that has led me to six continents.  One that has shown me combat, and the depravity of man.  One that has yo-yo'd my emotions with empty promises, broken dreams, financial debt, short relationships, subtle and overt racism, and prejudice.  But one that's blessed me with experiences unlike most would ever come to know, simple pleasures, and kind joys.  It's a journey that has kicked my nads, both metaphorically and physically.  (and of course, "nads" is not a word)  But a life I wouldn't trade for anyone else's.*

For now, I'll keep wondering, and I'll keep looking.  And if I find myself in another decision that could dramatically alter my life, I'll jump on that shit.

I bet it'll smell like sunshine and faerie farts.

......next time on the Infraggable Tony-Reviews, I'm going to review one of my favorite TV shows.  That 70's Show.  (No clue why.)

*Unless that life is Bruce Campbell's.  He's a boss.

Tony-Man versus Good Dating

She's enjoying the movie... He's thinking about how to get even closer.

Okay, I'll confess something.  I haven't been on many dates in my life.  While I mostly attribute this to bad situations, social awkwardness, and that women can be bitches at times, I have to admit that I really don't know what makes up a date... and what is just hanging out with someone that I like enough to be a potentially significant other.  Anyone who has read this blog knows that I pretty much laid down what I think is a bad date.  It got me thinking, what makes a good date?  But it really wasn't until about a week and a half ago (From this blog post date) that I ever had a good date, and with that day reasonably fresh in mind, I think I know enough now to really put it down into words.

Simplicity.  I think good first dates should remain simple.  Anything too elaborate, at least for a first date just complicates things.  Some people may like going all out, emptying out their wallets, trying to really impress each other, on overly priced food, or snooty self-depreciating service, or whatever other bullshit thing that costs an assload of money or takes up too much fucking time, that ultimately probably won't pay-off later during the after-date.  I mean, if that works for you... more power, but for me who really doesn't have the finances to really do that, leave me out of it.  My first date (and it was literally my first date) was kept simple.  My date and I (my date's name withheld for protection reasons, though some of you may already know her) went to go see "Wreck-It Ralph" at the cheap theater.  It was something we both agreed on.  I've already seen the movie a few times, but it was her first time, so I was happy to see how she reacted to the movie, and she thought it was a cute little movie, and that she was happy to see it with me.  After the movie we decided to go to the Hibachi Grill near the Burlington's coat factory, and we just ate together.  It was pretty low pressure, but it was an amazing day, in my book.  Okay, so movie and dinner is a touch clichè, but I think it works out.

Presentation.  This one is a little bit different.  Because my first date was simple, one has to act and dress the part.  My date wasn't overdressed, but she still was looking good.  There is nothing worse to me when one of the two is either overdressed, or underdressed... or is just looking raggedy.  I don't know if presentation is an issue with other people who date, I mean, since my first date was a movie at the cheap theater and eating at the Hibachi Grill... we got away with wearing jeans and shirts... but for those people whose dress code is a bit more formal, and a little more strict, I could see how the dress code of a dating party could be an issue.  My date and I just agreed, without many words that we wouldn't dress up.  It works, I think.  But Presentation is more than just clothes.  It's a demeanor, its an attitude, it's a certain sort of... Je ne sais quoi.  Be respectable, be invested in what the other person has to say, and provide feedback.  And be honest.  Clothes do not make the man, the man makes the man.  (And I assume the same goes for the women, as well.)

Punctuality.  This one is sort of a big one for me.  You may recall when I was talking about what makes a bad date that I had a date with some chick who had me waiting there for about two hours with no phone call until I was already finished with my meal before she told me that she was on her way?  And then she lied to me about how her mother was in the hospital, when that wasn't true, since her mom and I were pretty close.  So, I especially hate it when I'm late for anything, much less when anyone else is late for something.  I mean, I get it.  Sometimes life happens, and it pushes the timeline back five, ten... hell even fifteen minutes.  I can accept that, and chalk it up to traffic, or family, or a minor issue that just popped up that needs to be dealt with then before it becomes a major issue.  But anything after fifteen minutes, and you should make the effort to call.  I know I will.  Don't be like this bitch who calls almost two hours later, telling me she's on her way, when I've already eaten and left the restaurant.

Interest.  There's got to be interest there.  I guess without this aspect, there's no date at all, but while you're dating... try to keep an interest in your dating.... other.  And not just in certain aspects of the other person.  For a first date, sex should not be end game.  (Unless the first date is just a pretext to sex, in which case, just rent a hooker for an hour or whatever.  That way you can just blow past all the bullshit and get right to it.)  I have to admit, anything that my date said, I hung on her every word, and I suspect that she did the same with me.  I've never been sure what that was like.  But now that I've had my first date, I gotta say, it feels pretty damn good.

Anyway, I probably could pull a few more things out to describe what I think makes a good date, based on my first date, but I'm hardly a subject matter expert.  This is just what I think about when I think about anything really.  This blog's just my own musings and meanderings as I try to make sense of this funny little muddle known as life.  I still don't know what to make of this insignificant little speck known as the Infraggable Tony-Man.  And really... I still wonder what makes this Earth work the way it does... but these questions and others could be answer in the next Infraggable Tony-Review!

You won't want to fucking miss it.  Unless you're a blog-Nazi.  ...you don't want to be a blog-Nazi, do you?  Didn't think so.  So read the next fucking blog.