Looking Back

"In what ways is your daily life militarized,"
my professor wrote on the board not but two minutes after walking in the door.

Completely baffled, I stared vacantly at the paper in front of me. For several minutes, the sheet of looseleaf was as blank as my mind. Feeling pressure from the pencils scribbling next to me, I jotted the only things that came to my mind.

"By my class schedule, by my work schedule, by the law and rules, by deadlines, by my bosses/supervisors/professors.

These things dictate my life and how my day-to-day activities are organized and prioritized."

Not some of my best work. Cut me some slack though. I decided to take the course because a.) it filled my 400-level course needed for my politics minor, and b.) I had interviewed Kelly for a story for The Ithacan and she seemed really cool.

Looking back, some of the most obvious things didn't even cross my mind -- militainment in particular. Terribly embarrassing for a communications major & theatre minor to admit, believe me, but it's true. Militarization and the military enter into my work as a journalist on a daily, if not hourly, basis. When I go shopping, there are inevitably a pair of hideous camo pants I can scoff at on the clothing racks. And hell, I own several movies that deal with soldiers' lives and the role of the media in military happenings.

What didn't cross my mind and probably shouldn't have at that point, were the less obvious ways the military enters my daily life. Recruitment officers and posters everywhere on campus, presidential influence over militarization and foreign policy (my International Politics professor would scold me for not thinking of that one), patriotism and citizen reaction to war and, particularly for my generation, the War in Iraq.

Okay, maybe that last one should have been obvious to me. But it wasn't. Most people don't think about militarization on a daily basis, but the underlying truth I've discovered while taking this course is that whether we notice it or not, the military seeps into our lives and impacts us every single day.

Private Security?

The day I first set foot in Hiroshima was one of the hottest I can recall. Stepping off the crowded ichi-ban train, my mother and I quickly made our way to the nearest vending machine we could find -- which happened to be all of four steps off the train -- to get a couple bottles of water. With water bottles in hand and sweat already pouring from our brows, we made our way into the oven-like heat of Hiroshima.

Walking down the path toward the museum (hey, it was airconditioned!), we walk by a series of small statues and memorials. I glanced at them briefly, but in the sweltering heat, I was in no mood to stop and linger.

As we crossed a bridge, still on our path to the cool air of the museum, a different structure caught my eye. The remnants of an old building, half in shambles, stood right in my path. I stop walking and read the plaque sitting in front of the building. What made me stop in that kind of heat, I'm still not sure of. Was it the wiry, skeletal structure of the half-there roof? Was it the garden of beautifully blooming flowers surrounding it? Did I think it was a mirage? Whatever the reason, I stopped and gazed at the eerie, but majestic Hiroshima A-Dome.

Once we did make it to the museum and the temperature shock wore off, I was, once again, immediately taken aback by the images, statues and plaques that danced in front of me. For those who have never visited the site of an Atomic Bomb detonation, it's impossible to describe the emotions you're overcome with. Feeble attempts have been made -- angry, depressed, hopeful. And while these emotions all ring true with my own experience, the power of what the city has been through, what they have learned and what they have become today cannot be pigeonholed into mere words.

That said, the people of Hiroshima, as with everyone I encountered in Japan, were as polite, calm and peaceful as anyone could possibly imagine. Even as a gajin, I was treated with more respect by the Japanese, many of whom were complete strangers I will never meet again (sadly), than I have by everyone else collectively in my whole life.

So, remind me again why we have foreign bases disrupting the daily lives of these respectful, peaceful allies? Even if they were savage allies, would it make a difference? Do we really need to 'keep an eye' on them?

The answer is no. While Japan is a major powerhouse in the Pacific Rim, the country has been allied with the U.S. since the end of WWII. It's been how many years since then? Since they are our allies, doesn't that imply that we trust them? To steal a phrase from my kindergarten teacher, 'Can't we all just get along?'

Again, the answer is no. The U.S. feels some sort of God-given right to do whatever the hell it feels like, oftentimes despite horrendous consequences for others. Well, apparently I missed that chapter in the Bible, because some mythical claim to selfish imperialism is not justifiable.

You couldn't blame the Japanese for being angry. We punished their descendants during WWII, we dropped bombs that devastated two of their major cities and we still occupy a large portion of their already small land mass for our own peace of mind.

But do the Japanese rise up in their wrath? Do they revolt? No. And if that's not proof to the ignorant gajin that Japan is not a threat, is not a country that needs to be watched, is not a country that needs foreign bases, but rather is a country full of trustworthy, peaceful people and (I can't believe I'm saying this) politicians, then i don't know if there's anything that will prove it to them.

Location, Location, Location

"The point is, Ladies and Gentlemen, that greed -- for lack of a better word -- is good."

This phrase, though seemingly obvious, was first introduced to us by Michael Douglas' character Gordon Grekko in the 1987 flick Wall Street . It must have caught the attention of US policymakers, as this seems to be the guiding philosophy of where to place our military.

In an excerpt from "Being 'Over There'", Col. Daniel Smith explains how we go where the resources lead us. Since becoming a global superpower, the United States has forced its military into every country that offers some resource or benefit. Forget whether or not the country is our enemy or our ally, we'll find some excuse to be where the resources, notably oil in recent years, tend to be.

As Smith points out, "the Pentagon hopes that its plan, the Global Posture Review, when fully implemented, will allow for rapid, tailored responses to contingencies that could arise from any one of a number of 'vital national security interests. ... [O]nly two of these circumstances are paramount: countering any new outbreaks in the 'global war on terror' ... and reliable access to energy resources."

Despite the tragedy that unfolded on Sept. 11, 2001, the Bush administration knew they had to take military action against whoever was responsible -- even if they weren't sure who that was at the time. So why not go where the oil is -- we're running out, the possibility of drilling in Alaska is controversial, and it will help us. It's not hard to follow the administration's logic -- it does make sense.

But that doesn't necessarily make it right. According to the 2003 Defense Department's "Base Structure Report" lists 702 foreign bases owned or leased by the Pentagon, with about 6,000 more installations in the U.S. and its possessions.

While this may feign political security that covers the administration's asses in many peoples' eyes, for the most part, all it does is piss the rest of the world off. We're seen as arrogant, ignorant and too aggressive. It may seem like a good strategy, but I fear it will come back to bite us in the ass eventually.

Invading peoples' space, placing permanent military bases down the street from their homes, flexing the intimidation muscle; these things tend to piss people off. And frankly, I can't blame them.

Corporate Corruption?

The first rule of the Corporate Army is you do not talk about the Corporate Army.

The second rule of the Corporate Army is you do not talk about the Corporate Army.

It may seem obvious to draw connections between the military and the underground boxing group first described in Chuck Palahniuk's novel Fight Club (yes, it's a book. It was a book first and if you haven't read it, you should. It's better than the movie — and I'm saying that as a fan of the movie).

Both have violence in a somewhat autonomous and controlled setting. Both have their own rules and secrets. But what political analyst and scholar Peter W. Singer suggests — that the industrial and corporate side of the military is not only secretive, but destructive as well — may not seem as apparent to most.

In his first book "Corporate Warriors," Singer states that "the idea of private businesses as viable and legitimate military actors has also begun to gain credence among a growing number of political analysts and officials, from all over the political spectrum. ... [A]lthough numerous newspaper and magazine articles have been written on the activities of such firms, most have been long on jingoistic headlines and short on earnest examination."

Now, I'm a bit of a skeptic, so my first reaction was to question the legitimacy of his argument. Initially, I wanted to write him off as another pestilent, self-proclaimed "know-it-all" who was simply in love with the sound of his own voice and his own argument.

Rule Number 3: If someone says 'stop', goes limp or taps out (hint, hint, Mr. Singer), the fight is over.

But as I did further research, I came to realize that he was right — at least to some degree. Certain organizations that have helped privatize military operations are very secretive about their operations. It seems Singer wants to take anyone and everyone who works as what he calls a 'corporate warrior'.

Remember Rule Number 4 though, Mr. Singer: Only two guys to a fight.

He accuses several military-based corporations as appearing disconnected, but being more intimately connected to the military than they appear at face value. He claims the firms' leaders are knowingly and deliberately blocking efforts to expose them. But would the Colonel give up his secret fried chicken recipe if someone invented a fanatical conspiracy theory? More than likely not.

But, as Rule Number 5 says, let's take one fight at a time, fellas.

Additionally, while the media has done a somewhat mediocre job at exposing and criticizing the privatization of military operations, as Singer points out, FOIA forms can only get you so far (take it from a journalist-in-training who's spent too many hours filing said forms and still ending up empty handed). It is hardly fair to pretend the media is ignoring their responsibilities as journalists when legal, legit roadblocks are thrown in their way. Singer just needs someone to blame.

Though Singer brings up some interesting points, I think his argument falls flat. Obviously the information is out there if Singer is able to draw up such detailed facts and accounts. Certainly, he had to do his research, and it might have taken more time than most are willing to donate to the subject, but it is still available. And while the supposed evils of the corporate army may not dominate the headlines or make front page news, that does not mean they are not being explored by reporters. Do no insult us, Mr. Singer.

Shirt and shoes are off now (It's Rule Number 6 in this bizarre game).

It is unfair to make the media the scapegoat in this scenario simply because you are one of the few people interested by this topic and one of the few to allow your paranoid delusions to make such grandiose and unsubstantiated claims.

Even if newspapers and magazines began delving into the issue, and pushing the content towards the prominence of the front page, what difference would it make? The print journalism world as we know it is shrinking at an increasingly alarming rate, as is the attention span of the average American. Furthermore, Americans (and many people in the rest of the world) are growing increasingly apathetic towards political affairs and international relations. War is old news to us by now. Another car bombing? We'll shrug it off. We're attacking some other city I can't pronounce? Eh. It's a sad, harsh truth, but the general public doesn't care about things like this, and to some extent I'm not sure they need to right now.

But even if Singer is right and his arguments are legit, Rule Number 7 is fights will go on as long as they have to.


My guess? Singer will keep spouting his conspiracy theories about the villainous corporations and their evil plots to take over the world until he's confronted by the groups themselves. And if and when they finally do decide to respond ...

It'll be their first night, and according to Rule Number 8, they'll have to fight.

Virtual Reality?

That magic box with the flashing lights. As a somewhat tom-boyish twelve year old, the Nintendo 64 my brother got for Christmas one year was a toy of envy for me. Though it's laughably rudimentary in the video gaming world now, that small plastic black box with the blinking lights produced images that put us in another world and kept us entertained for hours on end.

Though my video game days are pretty much numbered (I was never any good anyways), my brother is still engrossed with the virtual reality world. And instead of seeing the familiar cartoon-ish characters of SuperMario and Diddy Kong Racing, images of bloody battles and brutal war flash on the screen in front of him. And even though it's been about a month since I've been home, since I could hear the muffled sounds simulated gunfire and screams creeping up from the basement, I know he's still playing constantly.

Despite my parents’ warnings and the best regulations, he bought even more violent war video games, like Call of Duty. As he played more, not only did his reflexes get better, but he continued to understand the strategies and tactics involved in playing the game. When he got Xbox Live and could talk to other players via headset, he began strategizing and scheming even more.

As Rodger Stahl says in his article "Have you played the War on Terror?", increasingly the way today's youth understand war and how it works is through media -- in particular, video games. It seems every time we turn around, there's some new war video game. America's Army. Doom. War of Worldcraft. Call of Duty. Call of Duty 2 and 3 and 4. These games are flooding the shelves of our favorite electronic stores.

Partially, I think this this is because the way games are played is similar to that of war. There are two or more sides with opposing goals or views. You're either on one side or the other and are trying to defeat the other side(s). Think about it as a soccer game: one team is trying to score in one goal, the other team wants to score in the other goal. Your offense tries to accomplish this goal, whereas your defense tries to prevent or defeat the other team from accomplishing their goals. There is some level of strategy involved and a need for communication. And even though I'm pretty sure we don't have to worry about hordes of soccer players plotting world domination, I am fairly certain that the basic ideas behind warcraft are not unfamiliar to today's youth.

How to Tell a True War Story

No matter how many war stories I've heard from my Grandpa, none of them can offer an objective truth. At least, that's what author Tim O'Brien suggests in his short story 'How to Tell a True War Story'.

“It's about love and memory. It's about sorrow. It's about sisters who never write back and people who never listen”

We have writers like Tim O'Brien, Michael Herr and, the man, the myth, the legend, Tom Wolfe, to thank for New Journalism, a style of writing that fused real-life experiences with descriptive, novel-like writing. From New Journalism sprouted the film version of the genre, known as the docudrama, that constitutes most of the military films we see in theaters today.

Gates argues that the increasingly better film technology, notably CGI effects, and a resurgence in proactive military support post-9/11, have contributed to Americans' distorted perceptions of war.

And I have to say I agree. These films are filled with cinematic eye-candy for newly patriotic audiences, but rarely keep true to the original fact --- for the storyline's sake of course! What we get is a general public who use entertainment to substitute their perceptions and opinions of the military.

Out of Class, But Not Out of the Game

For those of you whose clickstreams take you to my wildly popular blog every week for another cynical quip about journalism, blogging or the media in general, you may have noticed my brief leave of absence.


After auditioning and being cast in Ithaca College's mainstage show, Dance: No Translation Needed, and much careful thought, I decided to drop my Nonfiction Lab class. Rather than allow my GPA to slip into further obscurity, I figured it would be for the best.

Nonetheless, I've been enjoying my stint as a blogger and will continue to post about the assigned readings, my ventures in narrative journalism and any other subjects that tickle my fancy. In the words of Mark Twain, "I have never let my schooling interfere with my education."

That said, I tried my hand at incorporating narrative into my writing for The Ithacan for the first time this week. I'm pleased with the piece, but I am interested in your comments, criticism and advice to better my writing.

Narrative: Just for Classical Literature?

Even in high school, as an avid writer and English geek to the core, I truly hated the term narrative. I assumed, like many, narrative only encompassed what great writers — Charles Dickins, Mark Twain, J.D. Salinger — had done in their classic works. My English teachers would write comments on my papers like, 'clear and concise, but lacking personal narrative.' I thought to myself, 'well, I'm going to be a journalist, I won't have to write in that style.'

After coming to Ithaca College and having the inverted pyramid drilled into my head so much I could do it in my sleep, I still thought I was right. But through discussions with faculty and classmates, I've decided to set my own ambitions a little higher this year.

While my high school journalism career was important, it was only after spending a year as a writer for The Ithacan, that I realized journalism, much like classic literature, is about telling a good story. When I thought of books I've read, certain aspects of the stories jump out at me: plot, character, location, tone, style. And while journalists use AP style and inverted pyramid, they also use aspects similar to literature to do their job: tell a good story.

The newspaper industry is dying. And even despite the flashy Web sites and celebrity gossip that plague much of our print and online media, we're losing our audiences. As journalists, we've forgotten that we have a responsibility to write about subjects that may not be the most popular story of the day or that may not be something people know or even care about, but rather, we need to write about things that should be talked about and need to be talked about, no matter how unpopular.

Furthermore, it is also our responsibility to tell these important stories the best way they can be told, whether it be through traditional writing, still photos, video, audio slideshows or something else. We need to engage the reader and entice them to care about issues that are imperative to their lives, whether they know it before looking at the story or not.

This year, I plan to do just that. In addition to my Nonfiction Lab, a course that is, according to the syllabus, designed to teach us how to produce long-form narrative in a variety of media, I'll be having weekly meetings with a small group of peers to discuss and hopefully improve our ability to write with strong personal narrative, while maintaining our journalistic obligations.

And while the efforts of one person to do all that sounds cliché and probably won't make a huge impact, I'm sure it'll at least satisfy my former high school English teachers, as well as myself.

A New Experiment

It's been said that the Internet is the way of the future, especially when it comes to my chosen field of study: journalism. Yet despite my best efforts to become web-savvy, including working as an editor for Ithaca College's weekly newspaper, The Ithacan, a few Web design classes here and there and surfing through cyberspace in the wee hours of the morning rather than finishing my homework, this is my first stint as a blogger. To be honest, I'm still a little unsure of where to begin.

According to Dictionary.com, a blogger is defined as "a person who keeps a Web log (blog) or publish an online diary." Vague, but at least I'm getting a better sense of direction for this new venture.

So, I decided to browse a few blogs for some ideas. I found everything from celebrity gossip and ridiculous pop culture to the morose and dismal poetry of moody middle-schoolers to legitimate and thoughtful posts on major magazine and newspapers' Web sites.

While on this quest to find my personal blogger identity, I found something else: reading extensively lengthy posts is an exhausting mission few chose to embark on. Sometimes because of poor quality material, other times because the general American public is moving away from reading. Hence the decline in newspaper readership over the past decade or so, but I digress.

That said, I hope to keep you, my faithful readers (however few of you there actually are), informed, interested and thinking. Although this blog was created specifically to track my progress in Nonfiction Laboratory, a course I am currently enrolled in at Ithaca College, I hope to, in my copious spare time, enlighten you on subjects of interest to this future journalist, and ideally, to you as well.

Before I go, a quick thank you to blogger Dear Kitty for the cartoon.

Sit back, enjoy and get caught up in this Perpetual Whirlwind.