National Nitwit

Guest editorial by Paul Dresden, motivational speaker

In the late 1960s I was a young man looking for his calling in life. A severe case of recessed arches kept me from serving this great country overseas, and I was depressed that I had to remain on the homefront while others made the ultimate sacrifice for the America.

But as I look back on that time, I see thousands of Vietnam vets who are having themselves a huge pity party over their experiences. Guys who get up in the morning and tell themselves that seeing some gook's head getting blown off by an M-16 is going to define them, guys who allow themselves to be caged like scared little rabbits just because they lost a limb in some war.

You see, if I had ever served in 'Nam, you can be damned sure I wouldn't have turned out batshit-crazy. You can learn more about my award-winning technique with my "10 Simple Steps to Instant Success, Inner Strength, and Dynamic Network Marketing" tapes.

It's like this: each one of us in the world are here to learn necessary lessons. Some of these lessons require strength to survive, while others require dicipline to stay commited and focused during that lesson. Through my personal growth system, I have developed the inner strength I need to survive these hard lessons and the discipline needed to remain focused, and to return to my laser-beam focus when I get knocked around by life.

But these 'Nam vets who haven't developed that inner strength are letting the past hold them down. Sometimes, you know you should go for a walk, because it's good for your health and makes you feel great afterwards, but you get lazy and watch TV instead.

It's like that with these crazy 'Nam vets - they're basically lazy people who haven't developed the inner strength to deal with memories of babies being burnt or 14-year-old girls getting raped by the platoon leader. If these loony bastards would just buy my "10 Simple Steps to Instant Success, Inner Strength, and Dynamic Network Marketing" tapes, they could tap the secrets of Fortune 500 executives at the top of their game in the vicious jungle that is Corporate America.

Many of the difficulties people encounter through life often seem bigger than they really are. If you just step back and evaluate it from a different perspective, you'll find the solution is right there in front of you. Those nightmares of that old lady getting her throat slit by the psycho radio man in Bravo Company can be overcome by a mind that is well nourished with positive thoughts, if you just let it happen.

These nutjob 'Nam vets could find success and happiness if they just took advantage of a program like my "10 Simple Steps to Instant Success, Inner Strength, and Dynamic Network Marketing" tapes. And remember: to make it real, you have to believe it, mister. That's a freebie. For the rest, you'll have to purchase my tapes. A guy's gotta eat, right?

Labels: motivational tapes, Vietnam, Vietnam vets

A Guest Editorial by Bruce Rogers, Vietnam War Purple Heart Recipient

Rogers taking comfort with a bronze statue

When I was a kid, man, I loved the holidays. They were the best time of year around my house, and I used to wake up at 5 a.m. on Christmas morning, tear down those steps, and wait patiently for my brothers and sisters to shuffle down with our parents so we could tear open our presents from Santa.

But my childhood was stolen from me by an evil succubus whore named Vietnam, and now the holidays only remind me of my dead buddies, blasted to smithereens in the hellish rice patties of Southeast Asia.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Bruce, Vietnam was over and done with over thirty years ago, can’t you just let it go and have some eggnog with the wife and grandkids?”

The answer is a resounding no, you commie fuck-head. Ever wake up to the sound of artillery fire on the day your Savior was born, and then celebrate that day by eating cold Spam and locusts? Didn’t think so. I bet your ass went to Yale on daddy’s dollar and now wants us to bring our troops home from this noble campaign we got over there in the sand dunes of Mortaritaville, right when the tide is about to turn on those towel-wearing scat-munchers.

Sometimes we would fry up the holiday Spam, when we could find a cheap-ass stove, or when we were shacking up with some diseased, slanty-eyed hooker in Saigon. Yeah. Some fucking holiday.

But I digress.

The holidays are a horrible time for any veteran. All we want to do is reflect and tell the story of our M-16 jamming right during the Tet Offensive for the 739th time, but even our relatives from out of town are more concerned with their new socks, Japanese electronics, and Britney-fucking-Spears.

So this year, when you’re trying on those new flannel pajamas, remember ol’ Bruce here. I shot countless women and children from long range so you could enjoy this goddamn holiday, and the least you could do is honor my dead buddies by lighting a candle. Or buying me a beer. After all, we deserve as much.

Labels: Christmas, holidays, Iraq war, Vietnam