The Seed of Hatred

 I must start this piece off that I'm writing this here, on a webpage that gets promoted by a guy who is unusually obsessed with me, shadowblocked by the government from any searches, and generally ignored by humanity, because my life is in danger by members of my own community and hometown. Wealthy members of my community have sought to ruin my reputation, throw me in jail, and make attempts on my life. The police circle me like vultures watching my every movement, waiting to pounce should I relax my self vigilance even a smidge. My city council is selling out my town to the highest bidder and forcing long time residents out. I am also sure that my very State has been corrupted and is seeking to prevent me from speaking out against the atrocities that I have witnessed.

But what everyone forgets is that I paid for my voice with blood, and that it is the very people that have sent me to war to murder for them that keep interfering with my personal life. My home newspaper is bought by the corporation. Social media is an algorithmic joke. And it seems that the members of my community that pushed me to speak out against the injustices we see are too weak to see the job through. I was their sacrificial lamb so that they could get vengeance against Nick Checota, a Wisconsinite douchebag who thinks that Missoula should be some giant music venue. His father was a huge fraud, selling faulty medical equipment and then being run out after a failed political venture. 

I come home to people playing games with taxes and everyone's money, stealing from future generations so they could have their bourgeoisie paradise. My country has failed me. It has failed the veteran community. It has failed the military members by violating their trust. 

Let's get this straight. I do not believe that most humans are inherently evil. I see that most are trapped between a rock and a hard place, a place worse than any slavery named thus far. We're forced to give our time and energy to conglomerates that would throw us away at the first sign of malfunction. We are forced to pay a middleman for our healthcare and forfeit the power to take care of ourselves. They tell us that anything like socializing or communing are evil, through social media and ritual communion. 

The United States has been infected by a thing worse than evil and that is stupidity.

Rick Rynearson, if anything should happen to my life or those that I love, I am placing the responsibility upon you for your false witnessing. Should anything happen in this lifetime I will see you before God in the next and be your accuser. May you have a long life to dwell on this, and may He have mercy on your soul.

I need not do anything to anyone. Karma will have the last say in it all. I will be in my heart.

***

This Story is about he 15th Reconnaissance Squadron Cotton Pickers, and certain members of her Good Ol' Boys club. If I have to get my Justice with them, I will have it within the annals of history, and I will make sure that they are cursed by my words for the rest of time. Let us begin.

***

I arrived in Las Vegas, Nevada 06 April, 2006. I was originally supposed to go to Beal, AFB in Northern California, but just by chance I was "chosen"... then the entire next 4 Classes were "chosen" as well. Though I didn't get that until later.

I was brought to my room by a black man with a thick mustache, fine leather jacket, and calmest but alert personality that I'd ever met. He was of the Tech Sergeant persuasion, and he gave me clear instructions to be at the bus stop at 0300 to learn the basics of squadron care and to be ready for the indoctrination brief at 0700 in the 11th RS Theater. I asked what it is that I would be tasked to do, and he told me that I'd be issued some flight suits, flight boots, and I'd learn exactly what the job would be. 

I had no idea that I would be flying drones. 

Michael Haas was a buddy of mine that I met in Technical School down at Goodfellow, AFB. I had gotten the callsign "Church" in basic Training. The big online video game at the time was Xbox's Halo. There was an online series called Red Versus Blue, which satirized the Military life through one of Halo's online player versus player maps. One of the main characters was named "Church" as well, and had terrible luck throughout the series. Between us it was an inside joke that he was "Caboose", Church's mentally struggling friend. We both were "picked" for the USA Drone Program though we had no idea. 

We met up with our friend B-Doff (nickname), and made our way to the theater not knowing what it was that we were about to see. Doff was a Metallica fan and started teaching himself guitar. Queue his excitement when Metallica's "One" starts playing before a series of bomb drops explode in force right in front of our eyes. Here is my TedX talk about it

I never talked to Doff about it, but Haas and I did not like what we were seeing. We both came from Christian backgrounds and both of us knew exactly what God and Jesus would have to say about what we just witnessed. We were told that our job was to "kill people and break things." We both decided to go to the commander to see if we could do something else. 

LT. COL. Gear was a pungent smear of a man. One could tell by looking at him that he had the soul of a thing that wished it was a snake. He had tasted the blood of men and loved it. When I went into his office to give him an honest display of my unease of the whole thing, he mocked me, threatened me with dereliction of duty, and a dishonorable discharge from service, which is considered worse than being a convicted felon in the United States. He must have seen the fury on my face for being trapped in the corner and he gutted me with this: "Are you a coward, Bryant?" "No," I replied. "You swore an oath to defend the Constitution against all enemies foreign and domestic. Get out there and do your fucking job. Dismissed."

Of the handful of us that went to talk to the commander, only 2 stuck to their guns. I wish that I could remember their names, but I will always remember their actions. I believe that display of disobedience to the vileness that they saw is one of the most honorable things that I could have witnessed. They were mocked and degraded in front of the whole squadron and set to paperwork for the rest of their commitments. No tears were shed, they took it with pride. I know they had in their hearts right action. It is to them and those like them that military members need to look at and engage with. For the actions we take echo into eternity, and the warrior has only eyes on eternity. 

I, however, did the cowardly thing and tried to sabotage myself during training. I made sure that I knew everything about what we were doing, so I could make certain errors that would invalidate myself to continue. I pretended that my stick control was horrible and that my menu diving was erratic. The instructors must have had explicit orders to push me. A person with a record like I had wouldn't all of a sudden become stupid. I had no idea what to do, so I decided to be the best at it. If I was forced to participate I would put all my effort into it. 

My mother taught me to always give my best.

***

During this time, I was unsure of what squadron that I was going to be heading towards. It seemed that the 17th Recon Squadron and the 3rd SOS got the first pick of the litter, but would still choose more after graduation. My class time was delayed 3 times, so I did causal work around the squadron going up at the earliest bus with Haas, cleaning the latrines, the GCSs, the training rooms, and the break room. We made popcorn and the first pot of coffee of the day. 

One funny story is that I was berated by a Navy to USAF officer who wailed that my coffee was too weak. He taught me how to make "Navy coffee", where it was so strong you could stand a spoon up in it. I'm honestly surprised that none of the had a heart attack from it. 

Besides the existential dread that I would have to do something that I was not wholly on board to do, I had also started spending time with my peers in the dormitory. Here I am going to make the case to keep men and women separate in the service, and to also ban people from dating or sleeping with one another inside command structures. What I am about to tell you will make late 90s young adult dramas look like Sponge-Bob Square Pants. The pool of putrid vileness starts with one person.

Karen Ruth Daugherty, AKA, Bitchy McCrabbyPants. Curse her name, and may we meet before God one day so that she may be given the justice she deserves, and may she live long in embarrassment and shame for what she has done. 

When the Karen meme started to become popular I did everything I could to spread it. I will not take credit for all of it or starting it, but I will for spreading it to the far reaches of the internet. That it is referenced in the end of the new Borat movie is one of the heights of accomplishment, I'd say.

See, I didn't like her at first. I liked her friend Tracy. But Tracy liked her men dumb and spongy, and for some reason Karen had her eye on me while nearly every male in the dorms had their eye on her giant boobies. She even cheated on me with Haas over Thanksgiving 2006, or tried to, but I never wanted to hear the details. She wanted to get married after a month of dating and I wanted to wait a year. She lied to get out of the dorms, she lied to people about our relationship, she told people that I had "raped her," and I never once got justice. Just punishment. I never once touched her without her consent and I loved her when I was with her the best that I could. 

I did my best to try to figure out what happened. I didn't find out until 2009, when I had tried to join the 11th RS as an instructor and she, again, spread lies to prevent me from succeeding, and sent back to the 3rd SoS not knowing exactly what I had done to deserve the treatment. I went up my chain of command in 3 different squadrons and all I was told was that "I knew what I did, and until I came clean I would be punished for it." Lots of fucked up shit happened to me.

When I went to MSGT Joseph Lovato, he was too busy playing fantasy baseball and taking money from the younger Airmen in the squadron to give a flying fuck. This guy would be scheduled to fly, claim that he had too much office work, task Haas and I to fly his shifts, then take our hours from us. The good ol' boys club in the 15th only flew to keep their currencies so they could get flight pay, and they only flew the easiest missions available so they could either "study" or do fucking nothing. 

A few of the Airmen on the up-and-up would go and "volunteer" twice a week, and scheduling would give them the full day off. They'd go do an hour somewhere then go downtown to party and drink. One of the Airmen who graduated with me from the 11th had a sexual relationship with a married female master sergeant, and she would help give him better marks on this enlisted performance reports. 

Speaking of EPRs, MSGT Joseph Lovato gave me a 3 on my first one for no other reason that he, "didn't believe any Airman deserved more than a 3 for their first EPR." My second one, done by boring Sergeant Robert SNOOR of the 3rd SoS while I was deployed was a 2 (non-referal), not signed by me or my commander, and placed within the system without due cause. He was best friends with Bitchy McCrabbyPant's former husband at the time and had decided to take it upon himself to ruin my career. He belittled me, degraded me, humiliated me. Everything a bad leader would do. Both of them were absolute garbage human beings and a disgrace to anyone who had ever served and will ever serve. Cut from the same filthy cloth as Rynearson. Putrid spirits who never pulled their weight and abused their power. 

Right before I deployed I started receiving messages over a website called "MySpace" from somebody named "InfernalDarkness". They kept telling me how they wish that I die and that they hope that an insurgent chops off my head. I tried to respond a few times to figure out who it was, but then ended up calling them a coward and telling them to fuck off. Very similar in writing styles to Rynearson's tabloid blog, full of contradiction and hate. 

Eventually, I believe, since they couldn't get a response from me they started sending those things out to other people in the squadron. I was only called up into the office of the First Sergeant because that group was accusing me of sending those to them. I showed him the ones that had been sent to me weeks prior to the ones he showed me and he told me to ignore it and to not respond. 

In February of 2007, before Valentines Day, was the incident where I killed a child and MSGT Joseph Lovato told me to just write it off as a dog like the screener said. That weekend I tried to go out with the drama kids, and to try to make it up and be friends again with McCrabbyPants, but at the end of the night she told me that "she never loved me, she always hated me, and that she wished that I would just die. She used me to get over her ex." Then when I left the car in silence and shame, she played the victim to the rest of them. 

That was when the seeds of hate took root and I swore that I would get justice before God for what was done.

In May 2007, an event happened called the "patch-swap". 7/10ths of the 15th Recon Squadron was simply given a 3rd SOS patch, and all the equipment was transferred over to JSOC. I could get into the details of how much of a mess this was but I'll just keep it simple. Pretty much every document and video was errased and or thrown into the fire. I know because that was what they tasked me to do. The 15th enlisted leadership felt this was a way to start over, by just taking the Good Ol' Boys club they really took few people who had the work ethic to do the job. Another reason they took so long to restart themselves, because they floundered at the simplest tasks. 

I deployed to an uneventful summer, where I would cry on top of the Hardened Air Shelter nearly every dusk because I felt so alone and trapped. When I came back to Las Vegas, and into the welcoming arms of the 3rd SOS, Karen Ruth Daugherty had spent my absence trying to ruin me. She would cry if she had to give a brief and I was in the room. People would say the worst things about me while I was there as if I was not. Another Shithead Sergeant, Yugi Smith, yelled at me when my had was blown away in the wind and I didn't chase after it in order to get to the brief in time. When he saw my name tag, his exact words were, "oh, I heard about you. Everyone says you're a piece of garbage airman. 

I never got a chance to prove myself. To them, I just was because they couldn't take their eyes off a woman's chest.