elfyhat
I realize I’m a little late to the comments here and it’s unlikely to be seen, but there’s a dissonance that’s been stewing in me for a while now and I’m not sure how to reconcile it. It relates to the dichotomy between JackFr posting his fondness for a badge with cyberferret’s response, so this is why I’m replying here (if someone can suggest a more appropriate forum for me to ask this, please let me know).
I abhor war and death and killing. It’s vile, disgusting and so many other words I’m not literate enough to use to describe it. The very act of snuffing out another human’s life is something so imaginably terrible to me that when I dwell much upon it I become profoundly sad.
And yet, there’s another side of me that’s utterly fascinated by the actual implements of warfare. My father was in Vietnam and although he doesn’t like to talk about it often, I know it was a very unpleasant experience for him, particularly the time he described when he would have to carry body bags off the C-130s on base. Despite that, when I was growing up, I was given army men and plastic tanks by my parents to play with, toy guns, you name it. I fondly remember my father bringing home a variable swept wing toy jet fighter that I cherished. In my teens I pretended I was going nap of the earth in the chopper milsims available on the PC at the time.
Fast forward to today, I can sometimes spend hours getting lost in the endless rabbit hole of links on wikipedia reading about anything from the minute details of how the Exocet sea-skimming missile operates to the different types of recoilless rifles in service around the world. Or scrolling through google images admiring the sleep and sexy curves on the F/A-18. I enjoy watching movies like “We Were Soldiers” too. The scene where all the artillery batteries arrayed fired in unison I sometimes rewind a couple times just to see it over again because I find it awesomely impressive and…kind of “cool?” I watch the movie to be entertained…
This post/question is long enough so I'll try to wrap it up quickly here and get to my point:
I don’t want to go to war. I don’t want to see my brother get sent back overseas. I don’t want anyone’s sons or daughters, wives, husbands, loved ones sent to pick up arms, no matter their race, nationality, creed and regardless of wherever they call home. I wish all killing would stop, however utopian that view might be. I wish we could all experience the “Overview Effect.”
But how do I reconcile this view with my fascination of the instruments of war? I can’t help but find it incredibly impressive to watch a WW2 era battleship fire full broadsides. I enjoy visiting my brother and firing his firearms like an M1 Garand.
Am I wrong for “enjoying” these things which seem at complete odds to the way (I’d like to think) my moral compass points? Is this normal?
I was in the scouts when I was a kid and teen, ultimately reaching the rank of Eagle scout. I did plenty of outdoor activities and sports, not necessarily extreme, however we did go portaging deep into the Boundary Waters quite a few times. Yet, my ADHD persisted throughout my teens and 20s and I still suffer from this disorder as an adult in my mid-30s. Of course this is anecdotal.
I guess it's a positive thing that being active outdoors will help a child while he grows up. Hopefully it helps in the long-term. In my case, I only wish it had.
Short rant: it's pretty common these days to talk about the over-medication and over-diagnosing of children with ADHD. We must remember that some of these cases are truly warranted. I wasn't diagnosed until I was 30. Since I've been on meds my quality of life has improved dramatically.
Quick edit for a warning: ADHD medications are very powerful and must be treated with respect. Do your research before and after starting them. Don't hesitate to visit even abuser forums or reddit so you can read about the negative effects of consuming too much, too often. You can easily jeopardize your mental future by taking the medications the wrong way.
5 years ago I underwent major surgery after an incident. I remember one day being fine and normal and then my next memories are of me slowly becoming self-aware, conscious & lucid again in a hospital bed over the course of somewhere between 15-30 days (I'm not sure I can pin-point a specific time I became fully aware of where I was and what had happened).
The period of time in between my surgery and when I was fully awake was without a doubt the most terrifying experience of my life. Mentally, I was in a nightmare state for what felt like a large extent of the time that I was 'out of it.' I still have memories and images in my mind today of the dreams I experienced falling in and out of consciousness while slowly 'waking' up over a month.