Ronin Philosophy - THE Introduction and Beginning

As I write this, the cool April air is a teasing chill in the early morning hours - there is still a little bite to the early spring weather. As is now usual, it's 230am and I'm at my “day job” alone with my thoughts. Here I sit still trying to figure it all out while trying to save others the same headaches and heartaches that I’ve dealt with. To that end I find it necessary to start from the beginning, because to know the weight and value of a man’s words one must first know the man. Let’s begin.

I was raised republican and christian in a middle class home with a basketball team's worth of siblings. I grew up steeped in the history and (mis)deeds of pirates, privateers, military geniuses both friend and foe, the founders of the United States, and historical figures across the globe. It truly never occurred to me to do anything BUT join the military. Adventure, heroics, all that. I tried enlisting at 14. The recruiter laughed and said come back in a few years….so I did. I enlisted in June of 2001 in the Marine Corps Delayed Entry Program the summer after 11th grade. I had the scores to do whatever I wanted but I chose infantry and security forces (it sounded fun) against all sage advice...clearly the kind of stupid decision befitting a grunt. June. Of 2001. One of the last to enlist pre-9/11.

I reported to boot camp steeled for the horror show that the Vietnam era Marines told breathless stories of. Confusedly, I found it to be an initial shock that became almost too easy. Once I figured out that the Drill Instructors didn’t ACTUALLY hate you and that every word and evolution was tightly scripted….bootcamp was a breeze. I was mostly in shape having had my ass kicked by a former Navy SEAL for a year or two prior so even the PT wasn’t terribly challenging. Even as I write this my mind goes back to those 3 months in South Carolina and I can still feel the heat and smell the swampy air. I lacked assertiveness, aggressiveness and leadership potential but caused no problems - the dude easily forgotten.

In 2003 my father suddenly passed, leaving mom to care for all of us….mainly the majority still at home. I decided that I could no longer pretend to believe in a god that allowed that to happen and embarked on a journey that I’m still on today….finding Truth no matter what it looked like. It’s taken me to places I never dreamed of and challenged every fiber of my being and every word ever taught to me. The only way to survive an onslaught of cognitive dissonance like that is to remain grounded in logical and moral consistency. To remain totalitarian in your grasp on reality….in maintaining an ironclad belief in personal responsibility and the value of your word.

Fast forward to 2005. Despite having leadership that did their absolute BEST to ensure we stayed sharp enough….we didn’t. Security Forces are AWESOME (or were)... at inspections and CQB type activities but idle Marines are dangerous Marines. It was a somewhat fun couple of years but it was time to do grunt shit they told me. My time with the fake infantry over I was cast into the depths of hell itself...bright sunny warm Kaneohe Bay Hawaii. I arrived a fresh faced oblivious Corporal trying to find himself among dudes that hadn’t even come home from Iraq yet even though their corporeal bodies were back on US soil. It was hard, to say the least, and my own stupidity and misapplied arrogance made it worse. I deserved most of the shit I got, there’s no question. The MPs where I was banished to due to being a short timer weren’t much better - arguably more political and caused me to say “I’m out” in 2006, having done diddly squat in 4 years. Learned some shit. Grew up a bit. Generally none the less for wear and still a clueless kid for the most part.

Part of me wishes I could relate to my veteran brothers’ combat experiences, maybe I’m still looking for the respect I never deserved from people that didn't (and don't) owe me shit. Part of me is glad I never had to deal with what I’ve seen others go through and the friends that came home….but never came home. It’s a unique perspective, to have been in when I was, did what I did, been trained how I was, but never to do anything. Just a useless cog in a giant machine. Made Corporal in 2 years then did nothing. Nothing may have been something but I find myself in an odd place, coming back and trying to relate and impart to those that I never could...It’s not easy telling this story of who I am. It’s not easy but it’s necessary. Necessary to both give whatever weight is appropriate to future words and necessary to be clear that I am not a combat vet. I see only dimly what others needed sunglasses to withstand.

That set of perspectives and experiences has forced some hard introspection and self-criticality across as wide a spectrum of topics as is possible, leaving me to question literally everything I'd ever assumed was true. It’s not over by any means, it’s never over, but the journey is now the fun part. Join me, if you will, as I feebly try to articulate some of those questions and also attempt to answer in the manner that I've come to believe as the truth - interspersed as I am wont to do with humor and art and other things of interest. As I mentioned in my previous "intro" I genuinely desire your input, feedback, and interaction so don't be shy!

-Ronin