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duhragonball · 3 years

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I was curious to hear about what you think of the anime splitting DB & DBZ into separate shows. Personally, I get Toei’s logic and find it ridiculous how some extremists & purists act so hostile/resentful about DBZ being treated as a sequel to DB, especially since Akira Toriyama didn’t have any problems with it.

I agree, anon, there's really not much to the name change. The way I understood it, the manga kept the same title, "Dragon Ball", from start to finish, while the anime changed to "Dragon Ball Z", mostly to put a fresh coat of paint on the series, I suppose. I always understood the "Z" was a reference to Toriyama's intention to bring the story to a close, which turned out to be ironic, since the Z portion lasted so much longer.

But yeah, that's basically all it is. There was a clear division between one and the other. Z has Gohan and Vegeta, and OG Dragon Ball does not, for example. But you can make a similar case for other parts of the story. The division between kid Goku and adult Goku, in the Piccolo Junior Saga. I've long maintained that there's a very clear border around the halfway point, when Goku fights Recoome. Before that moment, everyone was worried about Dragon Balls, and after that moment, it became all about Super Saiyans. And you could make a case for the post-Frieza stuff being a very different story from what came before. I watched the opening theme to the French dub of DBZ once, and the visuals kept emphasizing Goku for the "Dragon Ball" part of the song, and Buu-Era Gohan for the "Dragon Ball Z" part, like the Buu stuff was Z alone. So there's plenty of other candidates for places to draw the line if you wanted to cut the story in two.

Ultimately, "purist" fans are going to do what they always do, and a lot of them use these artificial divisions to arbitrarily declare the point where the show stopped being "good". It's the same bullshit as the myth about Toriyama wanting to end it with Frieza. There's no truth to that, beyond Toriyama considering it and eventually deciding to continue. A lot of people think he planned to keep Goku dead after the Cell Games, and was forced to bring him back to appease the fans, but that makes no sense either. Goku returned *very* soon after the chapter where he died. Fans act like he was absent from the comic for seven years, just because he was dead that long, but it was more like a few months. But a lot of fans like to perpetuate that myth, because they think it justifies their dislike of the Buu Saga. "Oh, it could have been good if Toriyama hadn't been hijacked by Goku stans, so now it's terrible."

As far as I'm concerned, the post-Frieza stuff is the best part, and I think the Saiyans and Frieza are good but overrated. I also really dig the run from Mercenary Tao to Piccolo Junior a lot. This is probably why I never tried to play the whole "It was great until X," because there's ups and downs for me. And the ups are very long, and the downs are still pretty good, so I don't try to convince people that my opinions are facts. "Oh, well Toriyama got a new assistant after General Blue, and then he left around Raditz and came back when Trunks showed up, and that guy was the one who made it kick ass." That's dumb.

Like, with JoJo, I can understand preferring art styles and characters, which change over the course of the series. Part 8 just looks different from Part 4, and some folks like one more than the other. I mostly dig Part 7 for the horses and the scenic views of the continental U.S. Not everyone would agree. But I don't see a lot of folks saying things like "Oh Part 6 is terrible because Araki overdosed on Bad Comics Pills in the early 2000's." No, just say you don't like it, and move on.

But Dragon Ball is pretty damn consistent, other than the art style getting more angular over time. People will talk about the shift from fantasy to scifi, but Z ended with the boys fighting a genie in Superheaven, so how scifi is that? You don't have to like the later stuff, but it's not so easy to put it in a box like that.

But the fandom snobs love to act like their opinions are objective truths. "Oh, the Saiyans arc was better because Goku and Vegeta's hair actually moves." Really? Is that what this show is about? Hair animation? I like the Cell episodes because he's a fucking monster from the future, and that's rad as hell. I guess I was too busy having fun to notice that the *hair* isn't as well animated.

Actually, let me flip that around. The Androids/Cell/Buu episodes are superior because everyone is jacked in those. Early Vegeta's costume was all baggy, but after Namek he had the big horseneck and Bulma made him a uniform so tight that you can see his entire asscrack. That's *better*, as far as I'm concerned. Tien always looks swole as hell, but he's extra jacked in the Cell Saga, and that's the way I like it. Everyone who disagrees is a plebian.

It sounds pretty dumb, doesn't it? But that's what these elitists do. They pick on some minor infraction and tell you it's unlovable beyond this point, and if you do love it, there must be something wrong with you. Well, I'm here to say there ain't, folks. Toriyama's still making this stuff, so don't try to tell me he regrets the later material. If the Buu Saga is so terrible, why does everyone keep making sequels to it? Toriyama could just ignore the parts he doesn't want to use, the way he apparently ignores GT.

It's like the Terminator movies. I bought a box set recently because I never saw 4 or 6, and I thought it'd be fun to watch them all in order. But I already know the later movies have nothing to do with each other. T3 killed off Sarah Conner off-screen, but she's alive in T6. Basically, every movie after T2 is trying to be a direct sequel to 2, without bothering to acknowledge the others, because different people made 4, 5, and 6, and I guess they all hated 3. So they just did their own thing. Toriyama could do the same thing whenever he wants, but he always seems to make an effort to acknowledge his older stories. He doesn't de-age Gohan or change Bulla's name. Because he remembers working on the Cell and Buu stuff and he still respects it enough to keep it. I know people don't like how Videl turned out in DBS, but that process started way back in 1995.

I'm not saying people shouldn't have opinions, but acting like the letter Z ruined 60% of the story is kind of reductive, to say the least. Sometimes, things change, and they may not change the way we want them to, but that doesn't mean they're "ruined" or that other people can't enjoy them.

#dragon ball #ask duhragonball

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purkinje-effect · 5 years

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The Anatomy of Melancholy, 52

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 19. Go to previous. Go to next. Deenwood’s mirrors are just broken enough. TWs: discussion of chemical artillery, hair clippers, some manner of identity politic maneuver.

___________________________

“Now then,” Angel remarked as ‘Choly stepped out of the enlisted barracks’ baths. “We can all collectively agree to be civil, can’t we?”

“I don’t think either you nor I can be civil, all things considered,” ‘Choly quipped as he hopped up on the Handy’s foot pegs for a ride across the compound grounds, already dreading what could come next. “Today, I’m in uniform and ready to get tasks taken care of. We’ll be agreeable. Sticks can be civil.”

A Gutsy rushed up to give directions.

“Not entirely correct, to consider Sticks a civilian, Captain Carey. Come with me. The General is in Wing IV of the R&D.”

Sticks noticed both the army green robot’s verbiage and the chemist’s flinch as to where they headed next, and he straightened to stuff his hands in his khaki pockets to pretend he hadn’t noticed anything at all.

The Gutsy, G-5, led them to the smallest but most fortified of the three standing warehouse-like buildings on the property. In previous visits this week, Deenwood’s robotics had escorted ‘Choly here to Olivia’s office, but today, he was taken past encrypted pneumatic doors to the high-security laboratory floor. It was the most minor of consolation to ‘Choly, that this was not the floor where he and his colleagues had developed the Psycho which they perfected through exacting trial and error--but it was, instead, an area which required even higher clearance, and none of the equipment here was familiar.

Under the mixture of fluorescent and incandescent lighting, ‘Choly nearly didn’t recognize the back of Olivia’s head at the terminal where she sat, already hard at work supervising the computer-assisted manufacturing process. She heard the doors open and shut, and footsteps and flames approach, but she didn’t look up, only waving a hand at the Gutsy to dismiss it.

“Thank you, Green Five.”

“At your beck, Madam General.”

“I’m sorry to say you’re ahead of me. The synthesis process is still yet incomplete. When I said to give me a day, I meant twenty-four hours or so.” After a moment poring over figures, she saved the programming variables and spun about face on the swivel stool to clap her hands with a firm smile for her company. “Still, though, we can discuss the game plan while we wait.”

“A hundred units of X-Cell-Root,” ‘Choly parroted dully, dismounting Angel to look around. “This is the wing where they created X-Cell, isn’t it.”

“There were thirteen wings during your last tenure on base, for ten branches of research. Most of them are no longer in use. Right now, you’re currently standing in the only known laboratory on the Eastern Coast with both the precursor and formula for Day Tripper.”

“I’m sure you spend a lot of time in this room, then,” the chemist remarked a little too sharply.

Sticks snorted with a dumb smile, and shook his head at him.

“I’m sure I do.” A strange knowing glint filled her dark eyes. “The raw materials I needed for one of the shells we’re to use against the Rust Devils are stored, and best processed, here.”

“I’m going to pretend you’re pulling at least a few punches,” Sticks quipped, no longer of any humor. “Mixed artillery, I’m guessing?”

“Artillery? What are you--” ‘Choly shut up abruptly, recalling how she’d mentioned the day before that MKExcell had begun as a Chem Corps study, only to shift to a Pharm Corps study. “You’re planning on using the Day Tripper ‘Root’ on the Devils.”

“Quick on the draw.” Olivia grinned, appreciating the fact ‘Choly could keep up. “You’ve got it backwards, though. Klutz was engineered from Day Tripper. We researched both X-Cell’s pharmaceutical refinement as well as its weaponization, remember. Once under the influence of the gas grenade, the affected party is far more readily plied. Provided key frequencies, someone affected by Klutz also exhibits a tendency to spontaneously disrobe. Klutz shells are shaped such that they...” she snickered at the thought of it, pantomiming the trajectory, “whistle one such pitch.”

“They’re notorious for wearing heavy armor gutted from robotics,” Sticks nodded, appreciating the disarmament tactic. “Not questioning the use of the Klutz... but you still haven’t said whether it was only Klutz.”

“The game plan, Sticks. Are you going to let me speak yet?” When he crossed his arms and watched expectantly, she slouched back on the stool and lit a cigarette. “The Furriers’ greatest skill set is their stamina hunting and their ability to set traps. Provided proper firearms, they’re exceptional snipers, but my Eyebots that survey Lowell and Chelmsford estimate three hundred raiders in Back Central, and at least another hundred in RobCo Towers. Deenwood has less than a hundred robots at her employ, and the Furriers don’t even have a hundred heads. Considering the Devils--”

“I dunno,” ‘Choly mumbled under his breath, “one of them might have a hundred heads.”

Olivia glowered at him for acting as her peanut gallery. He looked over to Sticks, who was straining not to die laughing.

“...Considering the Devils have their own handcrafted robotics,” she continued, through her teeth, “much of which is crafted from robotics they have captured and stolen from Deenwood, we must have the element of surprise on our side. Or we will lose.” She stood, to pace with her smoke. “That said, I plan for the Furriers to shepherd the Back Central Devils into one central location to maximize the efficiency of the gas grenades. Once the Furriers utilize the indicated formation to pin the Devils in position, my Sentry Bots will fire Rad-I-Canned shells. We’ll do the same with RobCo Towers once we’ve secured Back Central.”

"Rad-I-Canned!” Sticks blurted out. Incredulity flung his fists to his sides and his face into an exasperated scowl. “You’ve only used that once before, to my knowledge! I know you could cut the conflict tension with a knife here, but do you really take this for some Gordian knot! Surely we can achieve this with less.”

She took a long hit off her cigarette, and she stopped and turned to make unblinking eye contact with Sticks while she exhaled all the smoke his way, through her nasal gap.

“Wars have been started over less.”

‘Choly finally noticed where the Assaultron Helen had been in waiting all this time, by the door where they’d entered, and couldn’t stop staring at her. With a coughing fit, he broke the uncomfortable silence with his guts full of moths.

“About making me colonel... Green Five still called me captain earlier. You did mean it, that you wanted to make it official, right? Colonel Carey?”

Getting caught in her misdirection, she softened in place and resumed pacing. Sticks appreciated the shift in subject.

“Oh, I just didn’t consider it all that time sensitive. Figured we could get into all that after this debacle’s through with. But, if you insist, it probably wouldn’t hurt to look the part of the colonel in charge of the Voire troop.” The ghoul general strolled over to the nearest standing ashtray, took one more hit off her smoke, and extinguished it in the sand. “Go get your prescription updated. Those godawful glasses aren’t regulation issue. And you’re going to have to get a haircut, if you plan on wearing the officers’ martial dress uniform, you know.”

She made a buzzing motion with one fist at her own nape in a mild jeer, then glanced to her steel-tone Pip-Boy to flick a series of dial settings. ‘Choly touched the temple of his glasses with a frown, then felt of the back of his head with anxiousness. Green Five reappeared while he stressed, and he straightened when he noticed he was visibly losing his cool over a handful of superficial alterations. She held out an upturned hand expectantly.

“Before you get out of my hair for a few hours, fork over your nameplate and ribbon rack. I’ll update the RFID data while you get cleaned up, so that the base responds to your... new rank. I’ll have your designations, and new uniform, delivered to your rowhouse.”

“Leave the supervision of Mister Hawthorne to me, Miss Francis,” Angel offered helpfully as its owner complied. “I’ve already been his shadow this morning, whether he likes it or not.”

Olivia picked her eyes up before her head, glancing first to Angel, then to Sticks. Her brow piqued as her lips furrowed in thought, and she paced some more while Sticks sweated.

“You know, I could fix that. Reboot Angel’s imprint matrix. Reintroduce yourselves to its fixed variables. It would have to relearn who you both are, of course, but the second time it gets acquainted would go much faster since it’s already learned both of your personalities.”

‘Choly gawked between them all in a stupor over what was being proposed. Sticks nearly cut through the pause to agree on ‘Choly’s behalf, but ‘Choly cut him off.

“--I don’t want to wipe Angel’s memory of me.” He hemmed, hating where this was going. “I, I’ll think about it. Let’s get going, Green Five.”

“We’ll come with you,” Sticks blurted out, drawing Angel along as he stayed twenty paces behind ‘Choly.

“I’ll send for you all when I’m done with the Furriers’ chem cache,” Olivia called after them fake-sweetly. “Don’t bother me again until then.”

“Was that a gesture or a threat, to offer that... service,” ‘Choly asked with a flat distress, once they were no longer in her presence.

“Probably both, knowing her,” Sticks replied, just as terse. “Angel, you don’t have any arrangements with me. Could I bum a smoke and light off you?”

“Certainly,” it provided without skipping a beat. It also gave ‘Choly his cane, which he appreciated. “Do you need one as well, Mister Carey?”

“Why the fuck not,” he resigned, nearly concussed by being jerked around by so many different individuals. The leathery taste did little to soothe his nerves, or his disorientation, but he persisted.

Once ‘Choly stepped inside the storage hangar, and the Quartermasters’ Wing, Green Five directed him to the left hall. Angel and Sticks remained outside.

“The General has instructed that you begin with Optometry. As you’ll recall, the barber is at the other end of the hall once you’re done.”

“Why hello!” the Miss Nanny inside the office greeted in a soothing, effeminate affect. Green Five vanished again on its way, trading off ‘Choly’s care to the white robot. “It’s been so long since I had someone to examine! Let us get started with the phoropter, shall we?”

‘Choly took the ashtray from the waiting area with him, and puffed at his cigarette intermittently throughout the examination. The Handy, nicknamed Lunette, did not object provided that ‘Choly kept it out of the way and kept the ashes tidy. With a flurry of numerical annotations and shuffled lens metrics, Lunette determined his prescription. It felt like the Nanny leaned nearer when its optical lenses craned into his face to inspect him, and he sat back in the high-back exam chair, cradling the ashtray close to his chest with a frown.

“Our diagnostics equipment indicates that your cataracts are severe enough to require surgical correction. The cause of these is unknown, however, and it seems to chiefly impact your light sensitivity rather than the acuity of your vision. We would have to refer you to an ophthalmologist to receive corrective surgery, but it’s my understanding that it’s neither necessary nor afforded at present. I can script you medical permission to wear a visor or other such brimmed head gear on duty, if you like, Sir.”

He nodded tersely, and put his round frames back on. Lunette eased off the personal space intrusion, to retrieve a catalogue and provide it. To skim through it, he put out his cigarette and set the ashtray aside.

“Our inventory hasn’t been updated in around two hundred years, I’m afraid,” it apologized. “The General hasn’t revised dress code to forbid any of them, at least. Hopefully there’s still something available to your liking.”

The booklet fell open in his lap when he found the crescent-shaped acetate frames were still listed. He pointed at them, shakily, and Lunette snatched up the catalogue to see the model number he’d indicated.

“Ah yes! My records indicate you ordered these 218 years ago. Gravitating towards the familiar! We’ve still got several. Shall I fill your prescription with these then?”

“I’d like that very much, Lunette. Thank you.”

“As you like! Off you go, then. I’ll bring them down the hall to you once I’ve got the lenses cut. Shouldn’t be but fifteen minutes or so.”

He caned his way down to the barber’s office, to sit in the chair. A Mister Handy with a cockney accent approached him.

“What’ll it be, Gov?”

“I’m in a bit of a predicament, Burns. I’m told I... have to get a cut appropriate for the officer’s martial dress uniform. But between you and me? I don’t want to cut off my hair.”

“I hear you. Remember you objected to a crew cut in 2066, too. Martial uniform, though.” It gave him a thoughtful whistle. “‘Bout to get a might bit hairy, I imagine.”

The pun made him flinch, and the Handy guffawed.

“Do you have any suggestions?”

“Oh, say no more. Leave it to ol’ Burns. I’ve got just the thing for ya. It’ll take a Love guide to get it trim proper 'nough for regulation, but you’ve got the Burns guarantee you’ll appreciate the results.” Its tendril attachments whirled to comb, snips, and an electric razor. “Let me take a little off the bottom ‘ere, mark the state a yer Barnet off the list of things you could possibly be worryin’ about.”

He swallowed, and sat up straight as Burns fetched the barber’s cape.

“I trust you.”

“Attaboy!”

Given the indication to begin, the Handy removed ‘Choly’s glasses. Then it unpinned his hair and brushed it out, and it proceeded to pin back sections to isolate the patch from his nape to just above his ears. He tried to watch, but couldn’t really see in the cracked mirror, with or without his eyesight. The sensation of the clippers jolted down his spine and he shivered, barely keeping still enough for Burns to steady the attachment along his scalp. It touched up the hair in front of both ears, then with scissors trimmed his split ends as well. Once done snipping away, the Handy swiveled the chair one-eighty to dip the back to the counter at the wall. It gave him a quick rinse and blow dry, and propped him back up to use fresh bobby pins to return his hair to a taut, slick french twist, positioned slightly higher up on his head than before.

By the time Burns was done with him, Lunette entered.

“Burns, I’ve got Colonel Carey’s prescription ready,” the Nanny said.

“Ah, yes! Let’s have ‘em. Perfect timin’. He’ll get to see how it matches up with the ‘do we’ve done him up wif.” As he took the glasses gratefully from Lunette, Burns turned the chair to his right, to face the wall where a full length mirror remained in tact. “How’s about it, Gov?”

To have heard the Nanny say Colonel, though, he thought to himself. Olivia must have just gotten finished with his designation updates. He shivered, and put on his new glasses. He let out a low whistle, his face long as he turned his head to run a hand over his shaven nape. He could see. Truly see.

“Doesn’t feel so bad, after all,” he appreciated quietly, both awing and dreading the context which such a cut came requisite. He repeated flatly, “The colonel of the Voire troop. Huh.”

“Just one step left before you’re off to your camp, Colonel,” Burns remarked, watching him appreciating the trim. “Gen says Green Seven’s en route to your place as we speak. Better get goin’.”

“Oh, tell me they’re to your liking,” Lunette begged.

“It’s perfect,” he ingratiated, his head ringing when he saw the hair Burns now swept up into a dustpan. He started off toward the front door of the hangar, trying not to think about it too hard. “Thank you, both of you.”

Where’s your loyalty lie, Carey? Do you even have to be Carey anymore? Does Carey even exist now? Should I have asked her to program my nameplate to truly be Melancholy? To properly be Melano Kara? Is becoming Melancholy a step forward? Would becoming Kara again be a step backward?

He choked down the urge to ask Angel for a Mentat, or another cigarette, only to open the door to find neither the Handy nor his ghoul had waited up for him. He snarled and hobbled along back to the rowhouse, knowing G-7 would without question beat him home.

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#fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 fanfic #fo4 fanfic #sole survivor #mister handy #miss nanny #mister gutsy #ghoul oc #olivia francis #sticks #angel #melancholy #lunette #burns #2200 words for a haircut and an updated eyeglasses prescription. i really do be like that

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transcriptroopers · 7 years

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Regarding Veteran’s Day

So it’s Veteran’s Day! 11/11 huh? Sometimes that brings back memories. I was in JROTC in high school and they organized the schools at these events every year. It was optional, but I attended every single Veteran’s Day memorial service, whether it was being on color guard or just showing up to stand with my fellow cadets in uniform. Some would leave as soon as the ceremony was done, but I loved to make the rounds and talk to the aging vets who came to speak at the ceremonies. I actually made my mom take me to it every year, and that is impressive for me because my mother was pretty abusive and I hated asking her for anything :’)

I hope all of my vet followers are gonna have a rad day. It’s Saturday! The world is at your finger tips. Spend time with friends and family; reflect on the good in your life.

and most importantly

As soon as the clock turned midnight, I knew it was Veteran’s Day. That’s because my passengers (I’m a Lyft driver) started giving me the ol’ “thank you for your service” (to which I always respond: “and thank you for yours!” because I choose to hear it as “thank you, a Lyft driver, for performing this service) razzle-dazzle but pumped up to eleven. And yeah, I bring it upon myself by even saying it. Somehow the passengers who want to converse with me always wind up asking me how I moved to the area or what kind of work I did, and having lived a pretty uneventful life I always wind up mentioning the army. But it’s not just Lyft, right? It’s like I can’t escape it. Every year I’m getting bombarded with e-mails, news articles, tumblr posts, webcomics, “thanking me for my service” and talking about how golly-gosh-darn much they respect the military and those noble folks who serve. I have some words that are part advice and part cry for help. I hope I’m understood, but this is personal for me, so it’s inevitably biased. Whether you read or skip, thank you for your continued support and appreciation, and I hope you appreciate my new URL based on the anti-fascist cult classic Starship Troopers.

— “Thank you for your service” isn’t common courtesy whenever you see a soldier. It’s just something civilians say because they’ve been taught all their lives to hero worship the military no matter what. The only ones who like you doing it are the ones who especially don’t need it – those who have some sort of superiority/martyr complex about being in military. Please don’t enforce this kind of culture. And I’m not saying “be disrespectful.” Just talk to veterans like normal people, yeah?

Other things NOT to say: • What did you do over there? • Did you kill/shoot anyone? • Did you like it? • So you’re probably in favor of -most recent military newspiece- • My so-and-so is in the military, so a) I’m going to talk about that for twenty minutes because I’m sure you appreciate hearing about other people in the military/ b) I 100% understand what you all go through. • That’s so brave/selfless/patriotic/courageous of you (to join) • So how much did they fuck you up/so did it leave it in one piece/other euphemisms for “are you disabled now and how?” • Me: “Oh, I was in the army.” You: *loud screeching, cheering, clapping, and wooing* (This is embarrassingly common in Lyfts). Please also don’t…run up to us suddenly and ask to shake our hands? Or just thrust your hand out and hope we reciprocate without even getting our attention? What are you doing??

Things that are okay to say: • Can I ask about your time in service? <— for real though like…stop assuming every vet wants to talk to you about everything they ever did in the military. • Were you stationed anywhere cool? <— gives vet option to omit assignments they don’t want to talk about/allows vet to decline to answer. people usually just straight up hit me with “where were you stationed?” like it’s an interrogation and like… no offense but ?? • Did you hear about -insert military news here-? <— vets aren’t a hive mind. We don’t always know what every other branch of the military is up to. People hit me with “What did you think about that x that happened in y because of z?” Also I once casually mentioned I spent a year in South Korea and got back “Oh man so you probably have the inside scoop on North Korea and everything huh?” and like…bro vets usually aren’t much more informed than civilians about military maneuvers tbh like sometimes they’re less informed because they think they don’t HAVE to be. And like…just in case I haven’t made it clear in the past, the vast majority of soldiers will never be in combat and they will never so much as aim their weapon at another person, let alone fire it. Somehow so many civilians seem to think soldiers shooting people is inevitable; i wonder why…

If you are with or know a veteran and you’re going to a restaurant courtesy of the now popular ploy of offering freebies on the 11th, be sure to

A. Tip on the original amount. Servers get fucking screwed on V-Day because veterans get their whole meal for free and tip on the cost of the drinks. Don’t be that asshole. B. Don’t engage the server with military stories or solicit perks because they’re “serving a hero.” They’re busy. They have four hundred other heroes to serve today who aren’t going to be tipping them and who expect way more respect given than they give in return so eat your free frozen spaghetti with microwaved meatballs and leave. C. On that last note consider just…NOT going to these restaurants?? Come on; they’re all overpriced and shitty chains and franchises with frozen food, they usually only offer you some partial free item or something from a list of like three super-limited entrees, and they want you to come and get a free meal so your friends and family feel obligated to come along and they have to purchase their meals and it’s really not about helping or appreciating veterans it’s about drawing business. Excluding poor veterans because free food is free food I get it. D. Consider giving your leftovers or perhaps your full free meal to a homeless person. Personally this is how I’m going to be spending V-Day; I’ll be going restaurant to restaurant for anyone who’ll give me that free food to go, and then I’ll just pass it out to the innumerable homeless lined up in my area. And no, not specifically homeless veterans. All homeless deserve to eat. I mention this specifically because I had a conversation recently with a Lyft passenger about how I thought it would be better to give all of this free food to homeless instead of soldiers, (because hint hint - active duty soldiers are veterans, and they’re getting this free food despite already having their every need provided for) and I was told that many homeless people are veterans, so it works out in the wash. • It can be hard to keep track of the dates when you’re homeless. You’re assuming they’ll know it’s the 11th to begin with, or that they’ll have access to the knowledge of which restaurants are offering deals. • Homeless people usually have to walk to get around, and the U.S. is not very accessible on foot. So you’re assuming that homeless person even has access to a restaurant offering this deal. • These deals usually require that you purchase a drink or something, and drinks can be upwards of $3. It’s like the only stipulation for it being “free” and it specifically inhibits homeless accessibility. • Homeless are not welcome in society. A homeless person, even a vet, walking into a restaurant for a free meal is facing a lot of risk; at the very least the staff will probably treat them poorly, at the worst they’ll be kicked out, especially if they try to use the bathroom because everyone assumes they’re doing drugs in there and not, you know, the thing we all have to do five times a day. • Trust me, I’ve gone to a lot of these free meal things. There ain’t no mass movement of homeless vets lining up to get that free food. Besides, if society wanted homeless vets to get the food, they would target homeless vets and low-income vets; not try to bribe people to bring their family to Applebee’s. And finally if you weren’t convinced • You need to have proof that you’re prior military to get that food. And not just like your old dog tags or being able to recall your time in service. You need a military I.D or a DD 214, the paper that officially releases you from service. How many homeless vets do you think are carrying around their discharge paperwork from decades ago? Does everyone on the streets have a valid ID? Dude some homeless don’t remember their goddamn names. Get a fuckin’ clue. In short

Happy Veterans Day. I hope all other veterans have a nice day. Please don’t hero worship soldiers. Please treat us like people. Please also look back on the lives lost in unethical political wars, illegal invasions, hostile takeovers, foreign overthrow of governments, and the ever-present “collateral” damage that is still murdering innocent civilians in the form of hushed up drone strikes. Please consider how the United States has been at war for 222 years out of its current 239 years of existence. Doesn’t that seem weird? Almost unreal? Like something out of a dystopian novel? Ask yourself why this holiday began as a remembrance of the dead and the celebration of the end of the Great War, a global day to celebrate world peace, and ask why it is that other parts of the world still know it as such while America’s 222 years of war has caused it to instead hail the tools of those wars. A final statement: there is currently nothing to thank your military for.

-Kingsley

#veterans day #military #army #navy #marines #air force

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