Anger: the Redbull of Emotion
The Logical Hate Cantos
Part III
J.A. Cummins
It's a bit early to be starting on my next installment of this series, but after the events of the last few (10) weeks, I feel it is only fitting that I begin to kick things off. To understand fully, I must rewind a little and explain what has happened since we last sat down. To completely rip off Stephen King, Lord of All Shit That Is Weird And Which Will Be Fucked Up By Television Producers, we must palaver.
You know, cause I make shit up and sell it for cash and lobster.
Grab a 40oz of Steel Reserve, some hand lotion, Cheetos Puffs, three sheets of sand paper and witness. I am still attached to the same squadron as in times past. Also as in times past the concepts of logic, common sense and personal responsibility have been ruled a detriment to Good Order and Discipline and are therefore looked upon as something evil and not to even be considered.
Kind of like this.
We must constantly strive to destroy families and increase work hours. Someone a few months ago decided that in order to do this in a proper, orderly proficient military manner, the time schedules for the night shift should be changed. Instead of working from 1600 until whenever the work was done (usually around 0200-0400) they decided to make us come in at 1200. They also promised us that we would be going off shift at around 2200 (10PM). The thought that was with the 4-5 hour overlap of having Day Shift and Night Shift in the maintenance spaces at the same time would result in an incredible increase in repair output, thereby allowing our pilots and ECMO's (Electronic Countermeasure Officer's) more time to go fly around and break even more stuff on the airplanes, thereby giving us lowly maintainers a reason to live and breathe. This is the kind of thinking similar to when the British designed the Sticky Grenade during WWII; great in theory, infinitely dumber in reality and everyone who didn't think of the damn thing knew it was a really, really bad fucking idea.
So for the first few weeks, those who though this up basked in their own superiority while the rest of us tried to handle the fallout with our families, especially since the whole “out by 2200” thing was more of a suggestion and not so much a deadline. 0200 and 0400 rolled around and we didn't think much about it until our wives and girlfriends began to wonder where the fuck we were and our children started calling the neighbor “daddy”. Hell, my own son didn't see me but for a total of ten minutes during one week and when he did he came running to me like I had just gotten home from deployment. I would rather get shot in the face than see that look on his face when I've been “home” the whole time.
Much like the stock market and everyone's trust in the government, the overall morale at the command dropped faster than pornstar panties. The anonymous comment box at the command, which goes straight to the skipper, was stuffed full. I only know this because when I tried to put my little piece of mind (two pages of it, handwritten, wax stamp, velum) I had to work for a few minutes to even get the bitch to fit. After a few weeks, it appears that the people upstairs realized that what they had done was beyond stupid, so they changed the schedule back.
For four days. Four days before going on detachment to Nellis Airforce Base in Las Vegas, NV for two weeks.
Yes folks, their idea of making it easier on all of our families was to go back to the old schedule for a few days before dragging us away from our families for two weeks of hard work and some time off in the City of Sin.
Did I mention they got us all rooms at The Palms Casino? Again?
If I use my per diem, it doesn't really count, right?
Let that sink in, and I'll tell you all about it later after I'm done spending your tax dollars.






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