When they claim they’re patriotic, they lie. When they claim to “support the troops,” they lie. When they claim to have respect and admiration for American military personnel—or to harbor anything but hatred and contempt for them—they lie.
Then again, when they open their mouths and speak, they lie. Except in cases like this.
Remember high school history teacher Gregory Salcido? He was caught on video disparaging the military back in January and was put on administrative leave. Yesterday the El Rancho Unified School District fired Salcido.
Salcido didn’t get up in front of the class and go on an anti-military rant one day as part of a lesson plan. This was a personal attack aimed at one particular student. The incident began when 17-year-old Victor Quiñonez wore a “Marines” sweatshirt to Salcido’s class. He was wearing the sweatshirt because his father is a Marine Corps veteran who served in Afghanistan and because he had considered following in his father’s footsteps and joining the Marines one day. But when he got up to turn in his homework, Salcido noticed the sweatshirt and then tore into the military.
“We’ve got a bunch of dumb sh**s over there,” Salcido said. He continued, “Think about the people who you know who are over there —your freaking stupid Uncle Louie or whatever —they’re dumbsh**s. They’re not, like, high-level thinkers, they’re not academic people, they’re not intellectual people. They’re the freaking lowest of our low.”
I would SO love to see this oh-so-superior putz attempt to, say, sight in a mortar; plan and lead a movement-to-contact in jungle terrain; execute a successful break-contact, fighting-retreat, or flanking maneuver; drive an M1 Abrams tank; field-strip, clean, and reassemble a M4 carbine in the dark; operate an AWG54 radar; land a F18 on a pitching carrier deck in a storm at night, or even act as an LSO during recovery operations in those same conditions. I’d love to see him navigate a small squad on a ten mile hike through hostile territory using only a map and a compass—no GPS, no radio or satphone. I’d be willing to settle for seeing the sorry slob do twenty pushups—hell, ten—without a half-hour break between each set of two.
But changing the oil in his own car is probably beyond this guy’s ability. One can only imagine the shrieking shitfit that would ensue if he walked into the faculty lounge to find the coffee machine broken one morning. He probably wouldn’t know whether to shit or go blind. It’s oxygen thieves like him that remind me that the Muslims ain’t wrong about everything, and that their eventual conquest over us will not be without its bright side.
Salcido then warned, “You better not freaking go” and added, “Don’t wear that in here.” He also said people who joined the military did so because their parents didn’t love them enough to push them academically. It’s not hard to see how Victor Quiñonez would take this as a very personal attack on his father.
A friend of the family posted the audio online and it quickly went viral. The school began receiving complaints from veterans. White House Chief of Staff John Kelly was asked about the comments during a radio show and said: “I think the guy ought to go to hell.”
GO to hell? He ought to be SENT there, with a fucking quickness. At the very least the bullying dipshit ought to be given a one-way opportunity to see how much he enjoys life in, say, Cuba or Venezuela or some other place where he’s way less likely to be triggered by the child of a dimwit American soldier sporting such an offensive choice of casual wear in class.
He added, “I just hope he enjoys the liberties and the lifestyle that we have fought for.”
Oh, he enjoys ’em all right. He also takes them completely for granted. He assumes them as his due without appreciating them in the least—much less the cost paid by far better men than he to bestow that blessing on him.
Somewhere deep down, though, the odious toad knows. THAT’S why he hates soldiers so much: he subconsciously recognizes his inadequacy, his having been gifted with a lifestyle he hasn’t earned, doesn’t deserve, and couldn’t in even the smallest way contribute to preserving. He hates soldiers, but he fears and resents them even more. His contempt is birthed by the painful knowledge that he’s weak and soft, attenuated by the humiliating contrast with those who are not. Soldiers accomplish things before lunch every day that he’d be incapable of in a lifetime spent trying, things requiring both brain and brawn. That awareness must cut like a bayonet in the gut, though he’d never admit it even to himself; his pissy scorn is the only balm he’ll ever get for such a wound, the only way as insignificant a nonentity as he is can cope.
Gotta give him this, though, the jerk’s got some pair of balls on him. When called out by justly outraged vets and others, he didn’t whimper the de rigeur fork-tongued non-apology typical of these types. Not quite.
“My goal as it relates to my students is to get them to do everything to get through college,” he said. “It’s not just the military. I wouldn’t want them to work at a fast-food restaurant, either.
He added: “I’m talking about their academic standing. I don’t think it’s at all a revelation to anybody that those who aren’t stellar students usually find the military a better option. That’s as plain as that it’s Tuesday night.”
The amazing thing is that, so many Democrat Socialist baglappers having expressed that same ugly disdain in recent years, only 85 to 90 percent of our soldiery votes against them even yet. It really ought to be 99 or a hundred, just as a matter of simple self-respect. Could be Salcido is right about how smart that ten to fifteen percent is, I guess.
Enjoy unemployment, genius. May you wallow in desperate, wretched misery for a good long while. May you be verbally abused by enraged vets every trip to Wal Mart or the grocery store you make. May the school administration who so inadvisedly kept you in a position of authority find things being made pretty hot for them too, by the decent parents of kids incarcerated there. Most of all, may your unprovoked, hateful attack against a soldier’s kid who, by any sane estimation, had done nothing wrong whatsoever haunt you for the rest of your worthless life. Or, in the words of an, uhhh, ancient Chinese curse:
May bleeding piles torment you, may corns adorn your feet
May crabs as big as horseflies land on your balls to eat
And when you’re old and feeble, a syphilitic wreck
May your spine drop through your asshole, and break your fucking neck.
Okay, okay, so it ain’t any more an “ancient Chinese curse” than the “interesting times” one is. I still like it.