When I was in combat training (U.S., mid 2000s), a corporal who was teaching a munitions class one day started pointing to things and listing off random objects. Clothes, chairs, computer, projector, weapon lubricant, etc. He asked what all of these had in common. The answer was that they all contain petroleum derivatives. And that's why we go, he said. The 18-year-old idiot me didn't understand, so that night I went into my Green Monster (didn't have internet) and started reading about recent U.S. military involvement. It culminated in a rather dramatic mental image of Iraqi forces retreating through Kuwait and burning hundreds and hundreds of oil wells as they went. I was still very confused, but I was overcome with a sharp feeling that I was a pawn in a game being played by gods I couldn't see or hear or meet or understand, a game that had been going on since before I was born. I became depressed and cursed my father for not teaching me anything at all useful about the world.

I don't know why I wrote all of that. Maybe just to say that I'm sorry for my part in all of this bullshit.