Earlier this week, I found a couple of rather disturbing articles via my Wired.com widget on my personalized Google homepage.

The first highlights a new documentary on Iraq shot with footage filmed by National Guardsmen, set to premier at the Tribeca Film Festival. Though it primarily discusses the manner in which the film was produced, a link located two-thirds down the page made mention to something that I hadn’t found out yet - the Pentagon is shutting down “unauthorized” blogs written by service members in Iraq.

I quit reading military blogs a while ago, simply because I’m not interested in the subject. I’ve got more than enough experiences from my tour, and I don’t particularly feel like reliving it on a daily basis.

The idea, though, that the Pentagon can shut down a blog written by a service member really steams me. I don’t remember signing away my First Amendment rights when I took my oath of service, and if I did indeed, I would suggest that all swearing-in ceremonies be preceded by an interview with an attorney. I also wonder if it is even technically possible to do such a thing, to voluntarily give up one’s rights. It seems contrary to the whole idea of “inherent and inalienable rights” which are “derived from the laws of nature, not as a gift of their chief magistrate.” And yet, I can be punished under military law for “disloyal statements.”

One doesn’t give up their right to vote after joining the military, and couldn’t a vote for anyone other than the incumbent President be seen as an insubordinate act by a serviceman against his Commander-in-Chief, at least by the Pentagon’s logic? After all, we’re not allowed to offer up criticism of the administration, nor are we allowed to voice our opinions on the war.

I’ve allowed myself to be censored in the past, to shift the focus away from things I might have talked about. At some times, it seemed like the best decision, at some times, the only decision. Anyone in the military caught publicly denouncing the war in any shape or form can expect to be dealt with by their command.

It all just makes me wonder.

Due to circumstances beyond my control (about eight hours of sleep in the last two and a half days, plus an impending inspection tomorrow) there will be no Friday update.

I really hate having to skip days because of the disruption to my thought process and the damage it does to the habit of writing to a deadline I’m trying to form, but occasionally it’s just unavoidable.

Earlier today I was informed that I had been selected to mentor one of the newly-arrived Marines in my workplace. This came as a bit of a shock to me, partially because the new guy I’m supposed to look after doesn’t work in my section (he’s a radioman), and partially because I’m one of the more combative individuals in my platoon. I’ve been known to disregard whose feathers will be ruffled if I know I have a point of contention, and it originally struck me as odd that I would be chosen to take an easily-influenced, wet-behind-the-ears kid under my wing.

Another reason I was surprised is due to my leadership style. I don’t fit the typical Marine Non-Commissioned Officer stereotype. I don’t believe confrontation or intimidation is the best way to achieve a desired outcome from a subordinate. I’ll explain why I give a particular order instead of demanding blind obedience to my will. If someone steps out of line, I prefer to take them aside and firmly state they are out of line and give them the appropriate correction vice bellowing and berating them in front of a group. I have found humiliation rarely breeds respect or sharpens the desire to excel.

I was told I could pick from the four newest guys, and I wound up picking the kid (I’ll refer to him as PFC [Private First Class] M.) who seems to be in most need of some guidance. I did this for a number of reasons.

PFC M. doesn’t have a great deal in common with me, or at least the person I have become. He’s unorganized, a bit too concerned with ingratiating himself, and a jokester. I don’t have a problem with him wanting to be well-liked, and I certainly think a sense of humor about some things is appropriate, even necessary. The disorganization will try my patience, but I think I’ll be able to slowly change that by teaching him systems to make himself more efficient.

Mentoring PFC M. is going to be more about giving him the tools to succeed than correcting him when he fails. In my career, I’ve largely had to learn things the hard way, teaching myself through attrition. Trial and error hasn’t been the most efficient or successful way of navigating my way up the rank structure - it took me twenty-seven months to be promoted to my current rank - and I don’t intend to have PFC M. negotiate the same minefield I was forced to.

One of the more pleasant tasks ahead of me is sitting down with PFC M. and learning his background. I’ll be asking about his family, his education, his hopes, dreams, and goals. I’ll assure him that he can come to me with any personal or family problem that comes up, or any other concern, and I’ll treat him with dignity and do my best to take care of his needs. He’s seen me stick up for others before, and I think he knows that I’ll do the same for him, should he need it.

The trick will be maintaining a relationship with him that doesn’t degenerate into chumminess, which I’ve seen happen all to often in other mentoring situations. While I’m here to be a counselor, guide, and sympathetic ear, I’m not out to be his best friend. I have to maintain a certain distance, NCO to troop, in order to not compromise my status as an authority figure. I’m not going to flaunt it in his face, but I’d compare our relationship to that of a significantly older brother instead of best friends or battle buddies.

Essentially, I’m not here to show him a good time, but to give him the best possible chance to succeed in a very strenuous and sometimes extremely difficult profession.

This is uncharted ground for me, in a sense. I’m the oldest of my siblings, much older than my youngest sister, and nearly a decade older than my next-oldest brother. I’ve been away for the last three-and-a-half years, and in that time, their needs have changed. I wouldn’t need to baby-sit them today like I used to, but instead teach them and help them to avoid the pitfalls I’ve encountered on my own path. Working with PFC M. will be a test to see how well I can fill that role, a role I’ll be playing much more when I return to the Midwest for school at the end of this year.

PFC M. is a good kid. I can tell he’s got the ability to do his job well, and if I can give him good counsel, I think it’s possible the kid will be well on his way to becoming a good NCO candidate before I leave. I just hope I can do him justice, though I realize that anything I do in a positive manner is already more than what I received in my own early days as a Marine.

Wish me luck.

Mondays can be pretty tough. Getting back into the swing of the work week is not the easiest, and the mind wanders.

In support of your wandering mind, I’m providing some links to a couple of sites I enjoy.

Urban Adventuring

Action Squad is a Minneapolis-based group of tunnel rats dedicated to infiltrating to areas normally not accessible to the public, like abandoned factories, hospitals, and other buildings. They’ve been around in various forms since 1996.

Companion sites: If you like Action Squad, check out Urban Exploration Montreal and the Lost in Time galleries.

Volvo
I’m planning on making a submission to the Volvo Saved My Life Club. When I was seventeen, a wayward Ford Expedition, piloted by a guy on a cell phone, ran a red light and smashed into the Volvo 242 I was driving at 45 miles an hour. I’m convinced that I wouldn’t be around today if it wasn’t for that Volvo.

Maud

Maud Newton is one of my favorite bloggers. If you don’t read her already, you should really find room for her in your dailies, because you’re missing out on a spectacular mind. Plus, her links are incredibly extensive. If you don’t care for Maud, you’re bound to find something through her site.

This past week started out already unpromising.

Tuesday was actually Monday (due to the three-day Easter weekend).  For many different reasons, I was in a very sour mood until Friday, and I didn’t continue updating iTunes at nearly a fast enough rate.  Worst of all, I had an inspection Friday morning that lasted from 6:30 until 10:30, about four hours longer than I’m normally willing to be inspected.
However, even though it was a very poor week overall, I did make a very crucial discovery.

Shane, one of the few people I seem to always get along with at work, though we unfortunately don’t work together unless we’re in the field, introduced me to Rube Goldberg machines.  I’ve been fascinated by them since, especially by this collection of machines (those of you who read this site via dial-up connections should be warned, the previous link is a video and will take a very long time to load - but it’s extremely worth it).  My two favorites start at about the 3:50 mark, but it’s worth the investment of your time to watch the entire 12:54 clip, especially if you have fond memories of playing for hours with Legos, Erector sets, Tinkertoys, K’Nex, or model trains, or anything else which required a very active imagination and some engineering skill.

On the note of engineering skill, after checking out the previous video, have a look at this one, which goes by the title “Cog.”  Anyone from the following areas - Japan, Australia, or Great Britain - has likely seen this on television already, but for my American friends, I think this should be something new.

No computer was used in the making of Cog, but it did take 606 takes - not to mention seven months of planning, engineering, and shooting - to get the entire spiel to come off.  Not unexpectedly, the inspiration came from the board game “Mouse Trap” and Caractacus Potts’ breakfast machine in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.  An article highlighting the entire story on the production of Cog is available here.

Cog even has a rather amusing parody, which you can find at the somewhat bizarre 118118 Experience (after entering the site via the intro, click the television with the skinny guy pushing the giant wheel).  Fans of Monty Python-style humor should particularly pleased.