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Dead-enders? Mission complete? Exit strategy? All we need is a hanger full of grunts and a Major General telling us we're winning. Oh my GAWD it's all coming back to me now. Okay, everybody sing, to the tune of "Yes Jesus Loves Me": Yes, we are winning, Yes, we are winning, Yes we are winning, Westmoreland tells me so." (Repeat until irony is achieved.) NCOs rushing the ranks, screaming at a whisper, "Shut up! Shut up you a**holes!" We'd quiet down in one spot, and vol-up in another. Which sent the NCOs scurring off in yet another direction, still whisper screaming, "Shut up!"
I'm afraid if I stop laughing, all that will be left are the bitter salty tears. Thanks GBT. At least I know I'm not alone.
Thanks for posting the "You Look Great!" trailer as Today's Video. I got interested in TBI a year and a half ago because of your strips on Toggle, and when I looked it up I found and watched this film. Last year, it ended up helping me understand the needs of a student who was dealing with a TBI. And last summer, I rewatched the film and it helped me get perspective as I worked through a mild closed head injury after a kayaking accident.
The guy who did this film did a wonderful and courageous job of documenting his healing process. You can watch the whole thing on YouTube here.
The 2008 documentary, made by John Byler and his filmmaker son Chris, was subsequently adapted by the author into book form and published as "You Look Great!" : Strategies for Living Inside a Brain Injury.
I'm just wondering when Melissa is going to come back to the states, find out she's been RIF'd by the Defense Department, wander around for two years unable to find a job since everyone thinks vets are all maniacal PTSD hacks, and then become part of the OWS movement.
I've been enjoying the Red Rascal tale. For his spy novel series, William F Buckley, Jr. created a hero less well known than James Bond -- the Yale engineering grad Blackford Oakes. In the first novel, the Queen of England summoned Oakes to her bedchamber. On his book tour in England WFB encountered this pointed interview question: "Would you like to sleep with the queen?", to which he replied: "Which Queen?"
It should be noted that one of Ian Fleming's favorite pastimes was blowing up trees in nearby city parks. I shouldn't like that, but I rather do.
Abbott & Costello, Burns & Allen, Tom & Dick Smothers, and now -- Roland & Jeff. American classics.
In today's strip, Roland is doing a good Bill O'Reilly impersonation.
Unbelievably, Roland actually makes Jeff look wise.
Apparently, even Jeff-naive is better than Fox-naive. Nice touch.
Roland is living proof that a nincompoop like Jeff is perfectly capable of being successful. It's truly inspiring (and a bit scary) to see them face-to-face.
Reading the comparisons of Jeff with Ian Fleming reminds me of Ellery Queen, a pair of writers who took the name of their fictional detective as their joint nom de plume to give the character verisimilitude. A more obscure relevant example is Peter Dickinson, not as well known as Ellery Queen in the US but one of my favorite writers, who sold movie rights to his excellent book The Flight of Dragons to Rankin/Bass, who decided to make a cartoon of an entirely different novel, keeping only the name -- but adding a character named Peter Dickinson! Anyway, there are lots of precedents for Jeff-the-writer. It's Jeff-the-secret-agent who's a misfit.
Jeff has never been my favorite character, but I have to say I'm admiring the way he's handling these interviews with such aplomb.
I worked for Ian Fleming. He would find the misinformation here very amusing. During World War II, Fleming worked from 1939 to 1943 or 1944 at the Admiralty in London as a personal assistant to the Director of Naval Intelligence, Royal Navy. In 1944 he briefly ran a British Commando unit; he was a planner, not an active field commander.
I'm impressed with Jeff. He reminds me of French philosopher Bernard Henri-Levy. Built on nothing but the sheer belief, against all evidence, in himself and what he has achieved, and will achieve (nothing, really). And in the end (Henri-Levy has already done this, Jeff is starting) it is an achievement to be a player in the media circus. Dreams, reality, spin, bluff, truth -- who cares, as long as somebody out there in front of a computer or a TV will listen to you pontificate. And if you can make a living out of it, you've succeeded. Maybe Jeff's dad will be more successful with his blog too, as "the Red Rascal's father." Kudos for you for the characters' facial expressions; Roland's hostile, and Mark is amused.
While still in high-school (I graduated in 1969) I recall reading a general statement about how worthless today's youth are. It sounded just like something my dad and granddad would have said. Then, after being completely incensed at the audacity, I got to the end and found it attributed to Aristotle. After looking at the compare-and-contrast efforts on this forum re Jeff Redfern (aka Red Rascal or Sorkh Razil) and Ian Fleming, I have to wonder how much things have changed. The only difference I can see is that while Ian Fleming was a real-live-person, today's youth doesn't have a real-live Jeff Redfern. Is it just possible that today's youth are finally too mature to have a real-live bigger-than-life hero like James Bond and the Red Rascal? Or is there a real-live Jeff Redfern waiting in the wings to be revealed?
Jeff's adventures are more than just fantasy. After all, he did (accidentally) blow up a terrorist ammunitions dump, shoot down a (friendly) military aircraft, rappel (disastrously) from a chopper into a besieged palace, and was kidnapped by a couple of (clueless) insurgents. The mere fact that he has traveled overseas is more adventure than most Americans will ever experience.
Paradigm. Yes! Yes! Jeff casually kills this poor suffering word. I recall when it made me suffer, trying to memorize the paradigms of Latin. Thomas Kuhn regretted his rash redefinition and today is smiling with relief from his grave.
Ian Fleming did think he was James Bond. 007 was Fleming's fantasy life, and they shared much in common -- cards, golf, travel, fast cars, good food and wine, personal charm, intelligence service, and womanizing. If Jeff becomes another Ian Fleming or Tom Clancy (and I hope he does), it will be interesting to see how his experience illuminates the publishing industry.
Today’s episode, where Jeff says it’s not always clear what is real, and embraces the unknown, of course sounds hilarious. But consider the following quote from Jacques Derrida:
There is no unity or absolute source of the myth. The focus or the source of the myth is always shadows and virtualities which are elusive, unactualizable, and non-existent in the first place. Everything begins with the structure, the configuration and relationship. The discourse on this acentric structure, the myth, cannot itself have an absolute subject, or an absolute center…. In this context, therefore, it is necessary to forego scientific or philosophical discourse, to renounce the episteme which absolutely requires … that we go back to the center, the source. In opposition to epistemic discourse structural discourse on myth — mythological discourse — must itself become mythomorophic.
Those readers who have the patience to sort out the above quote will realize that Derrida is saying pretty much the same thing that Jeff is; only Jeff is more understandable. The odd thing is that adults in academia, including myself, make a good living writing such nonsense as Derrida did. (Yes, I’m afraid his ghost lives on.) What’s even stranger is that Derrida used to hold forth on such life and death issues as mutually assured self-destruction during the Cold War. I’d be interested to learn how Jeff’s ideas on that subject compare with Derrida’s.
It may be that Jeff doesn't get the fact that people see his book as fiction, but he seems to be on track to getting rich and popular with readers. I get the feeling that on some level he knows he's daydreaming, but if people lionize and enrich him I wouldn't be too sorry for him.