The summer's intrinsic acceptance of my usual up-after-3 am-ness fortuitously shoved me, bored and glaze eyed, into the middle of the 600 unread messages that automatically get filtered into my e-mail's trash. Now, being the most anti-government American means anything from a government domain gets smashed somewhere between ED ads and SAT tips in a folder that gets checked less than my spam or even the folder I filter email from teachers into. That's until boredom tears them from their insignificance and beats them into paradigm altering snippets of propaganda.
In all seriousness, the foundations of my political Lincoln Log Alamo (my anti-authoritarianism) were breached beyond perceivable repair. Yep, the army wants (needs, actually) me and I know and accept it. Want to know why? Here:
My 2.3 GPA. Yeah, the one that screams expendable louder than a 14 year old McDonalds trainee demanding a raise. I'm the marine's secret weapon: a going nowhere, obviously unambitious, bellicose one night stand. I have the kind of academic record that tells them I failed physics hard enough to need field experience to find out just what all of this "vector", "kinetic energy" and "gravity" stuff is really all about. The government has far too many basic diploma straight-A strategists and is correct in now focusing on building a supportive fortification to act out for them and their Project Lead the Way brilliance.
Another aspect of the government's targeting that really made sense was their pandering to my gamerism. Indeed, their claim that I could put my 40,692 (rounded up, of course) hours of gaming to good use. In the armed forces. The tendency of video games to not allow for multiples tries to complete a mission perfectly reflects the army life of anti-recklessness for the sake of brief and bloody fun. As well, the social events I attended during those hours of gaming left me with the kind of well developed diplomacy skills you find on Xbox live. And the benefits of atrophy are too obvious to mention any further.
I don't know, exactly, how the government knew about my subconscious desire to perform in the navy's band (or join The Postal Service) between brutal, unsimulated, visually-less impressive-than GTA campaigns, but I applaud their unique ability to briefly waiver my anti-government status.