What He Won’t Be
It was a sunny day three or four months ago when I pulled into that gas station parking lot and met my appointment with fate. The weather was unseasonably nice and my windows were rolled down. Grieves' "Scar Gardens" was playing on my stereo just loud enough for me to listen to it while I pumped a tank's full of gas.
Blood is the new black: A stab at poetry.
It was February 2003 when I walked into the national guard armory in Duncan, Oklahoma knowing that I was packing my things to go to war. Saddam Hussein had refused to allow weapons inspectors to search for the now infamous weapons of mass destruction and all diplomacy was over.
My name is Justin C. Cliburn, and I am a specialist in the Oklahoma Army National Guard. I served in Balad and Baghdad in 2005 and 2006, returning in December of last year. I have been a member of Iraq Veterans Against the War since April 2007.
The Big, Bad, Liberal Media.
Saving Souls and Losing Allies
I walked into my Political Theory class last January and immediately noticed Matt sitting at a desk with a familiar, satisfied smile on his face. I didn't know Matt, but I knew that smirk. I couldn't place it, made a mental note, and moved on.
