"It's a Permanent Wog Queen Ceremony"

 

I might be stepping on some toes and starting a forest fire, but I guess, I'm just an old-fashioned codger who seems out-of-step with the times as I fail to understand the modern changes accepted as "progress.” There seems to be too much social engineering, feel-good policies, massive loss of tradition, and a whole different vocabulary on gender and race in the name of CRT or some sort of equity. It’s hard to recognize the ol’ Canoe Club with every other shipmate wearing pink panties and lipstick out on liberty.

I served with gay shipmates back in my day and in general, I didn’t care one iota what a shipmate's sexual orientation or preference was… none of my business.  The problem today is they want to make it everyone’s business and you better-gauddamned fall in line or else. Now we got a Transgender being selected into a political position wearing an Admiral uniform heaving her arms out on the podium like the haunches of a well-fed hippo and demanding we accept the social engineering of fifty-three genders to the point you can’t get the VA to pay for your back pain but if you want your twig and berries lopped off, its bought and paid for by Uncle Sam at a moment’s notice… no questions asked!

The focus shifted from helping the downtrodden to browbeating everyone else. Heterosexual white males in positions of authority tremble in fear of charges of harassment while they’re protecting careers and rears, and that seems more important than protecting the country. We don't fight nations anymore. Instead, we find ourselves "at war" with hard-to-pin-down religious concepts, oddball ideas, and unhinged zealots. We can't fully define what victory looks like or explain to mothers what their sons died for. Instead, we pull out of Afghanistan with the job unfinished while the Taliban takes over and makes fools out of us.

This whole new movement, in my opinion, isn’t even about equity, but instead seems to be driven by revenge, power, domination and the humiliation of straight white men. It’s highbrow water-boarding if I’d ever seen it. I know… I know… some of you feel this is totally worthless garbage talk and I should be banned, tarred, and feathered for voicing my views. After all, I’m a straight white male who must be a chauvinist for leering at any woman’s tits!

When I was in the ol’ Canoe Club, I got to experience the joy of seeing the first women on combat ships. It really was alright in the beginning. If you asked a gal for a blowjob she told you that was a silly name for oral sex…

“Anyone who tells you he likes to get blown is just trying to feed you some hot air … wise up, or he’ll make a sucker out of you.”

Female sailors were fun to be around, and they had the vernacular to match any savvy sailor. I remember a really cute gal checked onboard and one of the other females telling me…

“She claims to be a virgin but she’s dropped more drawers than a sloppy dressmaker!”

But in today’s Navy, there seems to be a bandsaw edge to the disgruntled genders, as they watch for any slight so that they can show that they aren´t going to take it while they huff and puff and show their indignant feeling of dissent over the actions in which they disapprove. These young sailors elect to have a good cry and the Chief will murmur support into their ears instead of taking any corrective action.

It’s not a wonder the military is in shambles. Morale is lousy, officers are bailing out, and recruiting is down, all largely because of social engineering. Nobody will do squat about it, because that would require bucking the progressives and their fifty-three genders of whom they are terrified.

I have in mind training bras for the boys and maybe penis-shaped flag poles. Just imagine, a penis flag pole might double as a PRC antenna, and you could fly the rainbow flag from it since the Ensign is considered sexist, racist, or whatever the “ist” of the day may be.

From the berthing compartments come prancing men in dresses and panties, the surgically altered inverts, and sadomasochistic enthusiasts. It’s like the ol’ Wog Queen ceremony but on a much grander scale. I wish I was kidding, but it ain’t the ol’ Canoe Club we were accustomed to.

I have no problems with what consenting adults choose to do or sleep with on their own time. They can sleep with the sheep or any other farm animal for all I care but I don’t need to know about it. It’s when they force their opinions and ideas onto others and demand they bend the knee that bothers me. Like Forrest Gump…

“That’s all I got to say about that…”