Metaphysic Storm

Two years ago I told my mother I was going to join the United States Army. Her reaction perplexed me. I expected her to be concerned that I would be sent strait to Iraq, and the wonderful Interstate system there. But to my surprise she was full of joy, almost ecstatic about the thought of her boy going to war. To put this strangeness in context, she was a nurse during the Vietnam conflict and witnessed the trauma of war and married a disordered and stressed out veteran. She’s also a devout Christian who does unto others as she would have them due onto her and turns the unslapped side of her face to her foes. I’m still a little confused that she didn’t mind me stating that I wanted to blast radical Muslim brains out.

The day before I was to sign my life away, I was painting en plein air in Los Angeles’ China town. After I finished my painting I went into the most popular food establishment and got some grub. I was shocked to find out these Americans ate deep fried chicken feet. I’ve eaten tongue, I’ve eaten foie gras, I’ve even eaten sea urchin but chicken feet bones is way past my tolerance limit. After I finished my plate of rice and mysterious animal parts, I walked the streets looking for starving artist apparel. I found bright blue camo shirts that were ridiculously inexpensive and thought it would be a good idea to “blend” in at orientation. The merchant had an Arab accent so I asked where he was from. It turns out he was from Iraq. I told him I was about to join the Army to see what his reaction would be. At first he got upset and tried to talk me out of it, but the more he talked to me the more his attitude changed. He began to like me and my civil mindedness. When I left he was wishing me well and said the Army needed more people like me in it. Back at the requiting office I got my ASVAB back with a score of 85. I was to come back the next day to take the piss test and get sworn in.

That evening I had a bizarre experience and wrote this:
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