(The Much Anticipated) Part Two

Broken Brick

When the first brick fell, nobody noticed much
it's sheer red face splintered slightly
as it made contact with the cement below,
and the noise it made echoed only once,
bouncing off the wall it came from
and then out into the expanse of basketball courts
cracked open with weeds,
supporting poles bent in humility
as the rusted rims
and chain nets
waited for their turn to fall.

The brick sat undisturbed
as dust and grit worked their way gradually underneath
blown by the wind to probe the narrowness
between the sharp corner and the concrete.
And when the brick was picked up
an imprint of its intricacies remained,
fine lines unnoticed and quickly erased
by the same wind that put them there.
And when it was hurled through the nearest window
to land on a desk in front of a blackboard
it would have been justified in wondering
"I spent all that time protecting this?"
as its counterparts came tumbling down.

Poem:
I was just looking at my brick wall, and this is what happened. I thought of an abandoned school building and the role a brick plays or could play. And how that building must accumulate dust
and be worn down gradually, even though the same people that erected it might be the ones tearing it down. Anyway, I'm happy with it.

Observation:
When I say I don't understand why people my age (or high school age) find the ROTC appealing, I don't mean that it's bad to like the United States. I honestly believe this country is the best one available, and while there are obviously flaws (which might be getting worse all the time), it's as close as I think anyone's come to establishing a decent functioning government. What I don't understand is our military. This sentiment began a long time ago, but it's easier for me to articulate now that I have a bit of philosophy (and a hint of political science) under my belt. Let me begin by saying violence is not a way to actually resolve conflicts. This should be rather self-evident. Wars result when two nations can't actually come to an agreement. I think of it as a sort of mutual resignation to the fact that politics has failed. So the idea of the military from that perspective is depressing in itself.
From a different viewpoint, let's think about what it is the people in the military actually do. Let's face it: the people on "the front lines" are equipped with some of the least efficient weapons we have at our disposal. The idea of shooting little lead pellets at single targets at a time is an embarrassment to the powerful technology every nation knows is out there. Biochemical warfare, tactical strikes, and all sorts of crazy things that make people miserable/dead. Even if we delude ourselves into thinking that the threat of warfare plays an important role in establishing power relations, it isn't the people with the little rifles that are keeping other nations in check. It is our threat of complete destruction and the acknowledgment of our technical and tactical superiority. And it doesn't take a particular mile time to push a button or make a phone call, so the ROTC training doesn't make that much sense to me.

Exercise:
"Gone Fishing"
Bob and Joe went out in their canoe. What they reeled in was not a fish. What was it?

Bob and Joe were well aware their friendship wasn't advisable as far as naming was concerned. Who would believe two people with stereotypical, monosyllabic names just happened to hit it off? But there they were, in the canoe, having a great time, monikers be damned. When they reached the isolated area Bob had decided offered the most potential for fish, they put up their paddles and broke out the rods and tackle. Or rather, Bob broke out the rods and tackle, and Joe broke out the beer and his smartphone. Between downing beers and checking some scores, Joe shared some funny fishing videos. There were the classics, like the two lines getting hooked under the boat, and the fishhook to the hair of the beloved girlfriend, but the one that had Joe laughing the hardest involved a man who had hooked something fixed rather permanently to the bottom of the lake with the end result of both breaking the rod and in the resulting momentum change, taking his leave of the boat, much to the surprise of the dog who just sat there with a bewildered look on his face. Just to stay in the spirit of things, as he leaned over to show Bob a particularly salient detail, Joe took the liberty of looping the line he was about to cast around the box of bait. This resulted in a rather spectacular liberation for the worms, as well as a startled Bob and Joe spending the next few minutes extracting them from their clothes and hair.

Me:
I had a great day of class today. Also, yesterday I mailed in my entry to the national collegiate handball tournament. I would be more confident of its arrival had not a blizzard struck that day, but that's not the point. The point is that on the back of the current student status verification form was a square of thermochromic ink. And that stuff is awesome. In case you don't know, this ink changes with temperature. The instructions in fine print below the box read something like "This certifies the legitimacy of the document. It should fade when breathed on or rubbed." I paraphrased, since my memory wasn't considering that important when I was busy breathing on this little pink square over and over. It was like magic. It's true what they say about the little things. Made my day.