Crazy? Take This Test...

From Special Forces Briefing, Ft Bragg, NC, 1978

Back in 2005, pal and crime writer, Wallace Stroby was looking for back ground on an ex-Army character he was developing for a third novel. Rather than winging it and creating a complete joke (Jack Reacher comes to mind), Stroby consulted my father who was kind enough to cc me in on their correspondence.

From: phred
To: Wally
Subject: Of Looney Tunes & Real Nutzos
Date: 11 May 2005

Looney Tunes goes with the territory of Special Ops people, cops, and similar "elite" (as they see themselves) in order to maintain the "glamorous" image portrayed in film and novels. Generally, this involves relatively harmless "prankster" stuff. The cop at a party who crawls under a glass-topped table to see if the woman sitting on it is wearing underwear. The SF guy who crawls up in the rafters in a bar and takes a "dump" over the ceiling fan.

But, then, there are the real Nutz with severe mental problems. At one point, you refer to the character as feeling "...no one is fit to judge him or his actions." That may be, but it's also characteristic of psychopaths and sociopaths, and then it becomes a real danger. In Special Forces, for example, precautions were taken to "weed out" the real nutz.

I remember taking a variety of psychological tests, including the Minnesota Multiphasic. Problem is/was that psychos are able to lie so successfully that they're most difficult to detect -- and can even beat a lie detector. I had such a nut on my first team. Was able to get rid of him before he did serious harm.

I understand that the shrinks are getting better with more effective tests than the simple multiple choice versions that attempted to catch people contradicting their previous answers. Here's a sample:

A woman, while at the funeral of her mother, met a man she did not know. She thought this guy was amazing, so much her dream guy she believed him to be just that! She fell in love with him right there, but didn't ask for his number and could not find him. A few days later she killed her sister.

Question: What is her motive in killing her sister?

Answer: She was hoping that the man would appear at her sister's funeral. If you answered this correctly, you think like a psychopath or sociopath.

By the way, if you got the answer correct, please let me know so I can take you off my email list -- unless that will piss you off, in which case I'll be extra nice to you from now on.

Piss Off Early...

...tomorrow is Christmas Eve

This is going to feel like...

Michael Shaw cartoon rejected by The New Yorker

I'm in the hospital today, but wanted to let those who owe me calls and emails know that, if I don't make it, my last thoughts are of you -- and what an asshole you are.

One Night Stands & Zippos

This picture of Central Park should put you in a reflective mood. If you're reading this, bouncing your knee and biting your finger nails -- consider coming back later this evening. Maybe with an adult beverage. Put on some music and slow down. Just a little. I have something to tell you.

I was talking to Stew, a blogger (Blood & Grits) I have a great deal of respect for. Not only as a writer I admire and envy, but as a man who can simplify complicated things. Be they, cooking pig trotters or giving insight into life or finding really cheap hooch. In short, I think Stew is a poet. A couple days ago Stew asked,

"Why the fuck is every blogger compelled to take photos of his submariner and post them right along with the pictures of "the serene bedroom" with bedside tables littered with stained espresso cups or teacups with PG Tips bags hanging like limp dicks from their lips?"

I told you he was a poet. I tell Stew about a blogger who showed me a Vietnam era Zippo he bought off eBay. I noticed the unit insignia on the lighter was from a division that had been disbanded in the 1950's. Stew said,

"Shit happens if you have no knowledge of the artifact you pursue. Knowing the artifact and simply acquiring it are mutually fucking exclusive. But today, to have is to know. A simple blog post stakes authenticity or at least makes a claim of being "in the know." Most of the time, as you say here, it shows one actually knows little of what one claims. Fucking Internet."

That's it. You can stop reading now because all I'm going to do is repeat what Stew said, but I'll use a lot more words and be far more confusing. It's so good I stole it. I would add that curiosity is key to a well lived life. Buying a picture for the sake of hanging it on a wall is like having a one night stand with a stranger. Sure, it's pleasurable, but not for very long.

I was interested in European advertising posters about 12 years ago. I was living in Chicago and there was a dealer across the street from the Art Institute. I looked at posters but bought four books on poster history. The dealer rang the books up and said, "It's nice to see someone who's really interested and willing to research before buying." I though he was busting my ass for not buying a poster, but he added, "Most folks just want something to hang over the sofa. They could care less about where it came from, who designed it, the significance of it..."

A funny thing happens when you accumulate a lotta shit you don't know anything about or have any connection to. It quickly moves from "The Get" to "The Get Rid Of." For bloggers it becomes a prop for electronic Show & Tell. Sadly, while authenticity is touted it's usually sacrificed. If you don't know what it means or stands for -- how the hell can you appreciate it?

I would add that the experience of the purchase -- that is, "I stayed up 'til two in the morning bidding on eBay for this" is not the experience I'm talking about. However, learning what it is, researching the background and history, wondering who owned it before you, or even better, knowing who owned it...These simple things make the connection.

I'm trying hard not to get too curmudgeonly about this, but I guess the question is this. Are you curious? In the end, curiosity didn't kill the cat but kept me alive while being in a world I didn't think much of. No matter how bad things got, I always wondered, "What's gonna happen next?"

It's "POETS" Day

What a week.

The title of this post is a favorite utterance one will hear in London on any Friday. Piss Off Early Tomorrow's Saturday. By now, some guys in London have already done it. Piss off that is. Usually kicked off by lunch at a Pub with office mates where a spilling out onto the street speaks to the crowd between 1PM and 5PM.


The video is my effort to stop my bitching about the Army and enjoy what I loved so much about it. The exit of an airplane in flight...and fright. This version has a Van Halen score sure to move you into the weekend like the rotor wash of a Huey moves a infantryman across a landing zone.


We used to grab the outside of the door on a C130 jump but some things never change. Weak exits. Retainer bags. Combat Equipment. Sicily Drop Zone...I think that's Sicily. Anyway, watch your fourth point of contact and have a great weekend.