boredom, procrastination, anger and the military industrial complex

War mongering.  Rush hour complaining.  Job bitching.  Cat disparaging.  Internet hating. 

Watching television, eating cheese, drinking (bad) beer, watching a 50-floor Korean tower being built.

I have done these things out of boredom.  And procrastination.  And anger.

When I was a kid, the time of Cold War I (Cold War II is USA vs. China, no?), what else was there to do but fight off the Russians in my front yard?  Or listen to Tim Fisher tell about flying an F4 Phantom in Vietnam?  Or listen to Grandpa Kelly talk about fighting in the Battle of the Bulge?  (I could have read more books.)

The anger I carry with me at commute time has as much to do with poor drivers (on both sides of the Pacific) as it does with frustration at not being “there” yet.  What would I do during my drive-time but find errors in lane-changing judgment?  Or blaspheme the untimely blinker turned on after half the lane-change is complete?  And when I get to work, what else was there to do but fume about the driving illiterate?  (I might’ve gotten immediate tasks done in a prompt fashion.)   

Bitching about my job (and I’ve had many) is a favorite pastime.  What to do, though, but gripe about shitty tips, drug activity in the bathroom, annoying customers, over-bearing e-mails, sitting on my ass for eight hours, standing too long, piecing together three part-time jobs to equal one “real” job?  (Maybe I could do something about getting that “real” job.)    

My companion when young was a mutt of a lab/rot/Doberman/cocker spaniel named Black Bart.  I do not know where the hatred of cats came from except the stories of both my dad’s mom and my mom fighting endless battles with the felines in their respective gardens.  Also, my sister and mother have allergies.  Was it some sort of vengeance that fueled the pointless crusade that Bart and I were on, roving the neighborhood treeing cats?  Also, what other excuse would I have to get out of the house for an after-dinner smoke or dip of tobacco?  (I may have actually finished my math homework.)

It has become tiresome over the years to hear (and worry) about this or that American-involved conflict.  Yet here I was just this morning at the gym seeing the same footage I have seen on a regular basis over the last 4.5 years of ROK military training exercises.  I’ve had enough of Ee said, Kim said.  The DPRK said if the ROK held their artillery drills yesterday, there would be “catastrophic” results.  Today, the DPRK says the drills were not important enough to get bent out of shape about.  It is out of boredom, maybe, that the two Koreas (America and some Asian superpower, for that matter) create this drama every so often.  Cry capitalist or communist wolf if you want to inject a little life into a wearisome stalemate. 

What ever would I do with myself if there was peace for my country?  Well, let’s just say that may never happen.  But, I approach an extended break from commuting, working or caring for cats (this apartment has been a feline hotel this year).  And this battle with my technology addiction rages.  Here I write, fighting my way past the urge, tick, impulse to check my email or the stats on or comments on facebook. (Since beginning this most recent burst of writing, I find myself a much more frequent visitor to all of these sites to see if there are any additions to the ranks of my 30 faithful readers.)  An extended break from all of these necessary annoyances (military industrial complex, excessive cheese and gallons of bad beer notwithstanding) is a mere 43 days away.  Zen awaits.

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