Scott Thomas Beauchamp of The New Republic has come out and identified himself – good.
Here’s his blog.
I’ve got to comment that semiotician John Barnes pegged Thomas as a “MFA student”; while I haven’t poked around enough to see if he was one, he certainly writes like one.
May 24, 2006
Every morning I get up and feel retarded for joining the army.
Every morning I get up and feel proud for serving my country.
Every morning I get up and dont want to get up.
Every morning I get up and wish that I was back in college.
Every morning I get up and appreciate everything that I’m learning here.
Every morning I get up and wish my roomate wasnt such a big fan of Disturbed…
Every morning I get up and I’m a little more liberal than the day before
Every morning I get up and try to recite a fact from something I read last night.
Every morning I get up and wish I was as free as the people that I’m “fighting for”
Every morning I get up and think I’m a tool for global corporations
Every morning I get up and miss my mother
Every morning I get up and shave
Every morning I get up and realize how much I love my comrades
Every morning I get up and say I’m Scott Beauchamp, in the army, living in Germany, and this is my life, and I’m going to be treated like shit today and do landscaping and janitorial work and practice killing people and there could be no other way to appreciate what I had or what I’m going to have once I get out other than enduring this now when all I really want to do is teach history and lay around and read and hustle around and repair the world (tikkun olam) and sift through knowledge and improve culture and learn how to sail and work in soup kitchens and start a family and really, I mean REALLY study the best the western civilization has to offer and facilitiate the mystery and power through everything I do, but I cant do it without getting through this army experience first, which will add a legitimacy to EVERYTHING i do afterwards, and totally bolster my opinions on defense, etc, and of course its making me a lot less lazy, just because im not use to being lazy any more, etc.
Every morning I get up
May 8, 2006 (written from Germany)
“Shit, I don’t know…put a 556 in his head”
On the street below the mans brown face dissolves into a thick red mist. The lights in the cities houses shut off in unison. Elecricity rationing. Water rationing too. You ever tried to survive for more than a few hours in hundred and twenty degree weather without water? In the streets the kids bodies start convulsing in semi-orgasmic rhythms. Their pants fill up with shit and piss and the smart ones sneak out to the fields to hidden caches of water jugs and trinkets of candy from the american soldiers.
“See that sarge, kids digging or something?”
“Well, better safe then sorry. Cap his ass Leclaire.”
“You sure sarge?”
“Well, im either right or wrong. And if I’m wrong im still right because i could have been right even though i was wrong.”
They watch the sliver of red sun fall slower and slower, silhouetting the little barbarians falling bodies. The Chaplain turns and walks back towards the FOB in contemplation. Gotta rack out early tonight. Handing out bibles in the marketplace tomorrow, early. Unintelligible rap blares out of the open doors of the HUMVEE.
Beauchamp made a series of implausible claims; let’s see how they check out now that they can be tested.
I’m making popcorn.