What puts the prefix in my name

Being a

There are many things a soldier is, or perhaps, should be. There are laundry lists of adjectives that the United States Army attributes them. Loyalty, Duty, Respect, Selfless Service, Honor, Integrity, Personal Courage. Tactically proficient, Technically proficient. There exist lists of traits a soldier should possess. Responsiblity. Courage, Candor, Competence, Commitment. Proficiency, Discipline, Cohesion, Morale.

Yeah. So, I'm pseudo-that.

The name, thankfully, doesn't simply stem from my feelings of inadequacy in my chosen milieu (which differs from my chosen (or, rather, appointed) field, mind you). The name has origins elsewhere, with a writer friend of mine... Link

While assisting my brother, Pulp Junkie Link (whose diary is woefully un-updated), in moving his furniture, SJohn (or just John to my clan) observed that I was "toting around that sofa like some sort of pseudo-Marine." [/approximate quote] It was at this time that I was necessitated to explain my dropping out of the Navy ROTC (where I had aspired to attain "Marine option" status), and my joining of the Army ROTC. Perhaps unexpectedly, the Army has lower Grade Point Average standards than the Marines. (Although it should be noted that the Marines carry a stigma of being "Jarheads," and the least mentally nimble, it is readily apparent to me now that the Army truly is the home of some truly impressive knuckle-draggers.) SJohn then hastily amended his comments, "pseudosoldier, then." (This got us started on a conversation about roleplaying superheroes in his RISUS system Link due to (pronunciation) similarities between "pseudosoldier" and "supersoldier," a reference to Captain America.)

My late entry into the AROTC led to my attending "Camp Challenge" (also known as "Camp Cupcake") between my sophomore and junior years, and securing a minor scholarship (which the Army gives out like they give out brown underwear). Of course, this meant that my inability to complete my classes in my junior year (read as: I completely screwed up my college potential through my own fault and sloth) led me to fail in military matters for the SECOND time, without ever having actively served my country in any useful endeavor.

What had spurred me into going into the Navy ROTC in the first place? Why was I so interested in becoming a Marine (who, to this day, hold a greater ability to intimidate me than most other military members, with the exception of E-8/E-9 and O-7+; it's a gradiated scale, though, and I continue to build my resistance to this, as any good Junior NCO must)?

The answer to that was *another* ROTC: the Marine Corps Junior ROTC at my local high school. While in this program, I actually managed to attain the rank of Cadet Gunnery Sergeant, which sounds quite impressive in type (and actually more-so, if you say it out loud). It pales, however, when you realize that the local JROTC was only a 3-year program, and my peers were able to attain rank as high as Cadet Lieutenant Colonel. Even judging the higher "enlisted" ranks as more worthy than your lowest of Lieutenants, there were still several dozen cadets who held rank over me. This was not undeserved, because a mediocre effort *should* be met with mediocre results.

And, of course, my first exposure to the military, the very thing that started my initial drive towards the green (if a meandering stroll could be described as a drive), was GIJoe #7, bought at the newstand. That's the second issue with the Oktober Guard, when they're all captured by Cobra, and the Joes and the Russkies have to work together to get out of it. Remember that one? No? Right. So, noting my interest, dear old Dad began trying to encourage me toward a service academy. I don't know if he (or I) ever figured out that the more I was prodded, the less I performed. I became very indifferent towards the whole thing, and had only really resolved in some corner of my mind, very simply, "I will one day be in the military." (It didn't help that, at this point, I thought that military==Army, unless, y'know, you fly a jet. Then you're in the Air Force. Or, you're on a boat. Navy. But that's pretty much it.)

This trend continued. I had a nice pat answer when someone asked what I wanted to do when I grew up: "I'm going to be in the military." Well, where will you live? "The military will take care of that. Right?" Very unconcerned with the whole thing, very typical of how I went through the everyday.

And leading me, eventually, to become just a pseudosoldier.

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