Caitlyn vs. The Army, The Unnecessary Match of the Month

So it’s been a few weeks since the introduction of Caitlyn Jenner nearly broke the internet. As expected with any major cultural event, especially one that deals with sexuality and identity, there were mixed reactions, mostly instigated by the animal you choose to identify (oh there’s that word again) with every four years. I chose to ignore most of, if not all of the commentary on this issue because, bottom line, what I have to say doesn’t matter in the scheme of it all. Do I have an opinion on it? Yes, I do. Briefly, I am damn proud of Caitlyn for doing what she did.

But that’s not what I came to write about.

I am writing this because I saw a meme concerning Caitlyn that was posted on my Facebook feed by one of my more 2nd Amendment worshipping acquaintances. It is a picture of three soldiers, two of them carrying their wounded comrade, complete with bloodied cloth wrapped around his left thigh, out of a building. The caption on this meme is:

“Please excuse us…We are on our way to thank Bruce Jenner for being so courageous.”

I wish I could find the-oh wait, here it is.

I plan on this article getting rather heated and ranty and the fact that it’s 11 am and I have yet to have any coffee or suitable breakfast will only prove for one hell of a ride. But I will try to control myself.

Is this meme even cussing necessary?

How can you even compare the two things?

I know I am probably doing more harm than good right now by bringing attention to it rather than let sleeping dogs lie, but are you saying that doing battle is better and more worthy than having your entire world come crashing down around you and your family? That everything you grew up with and knowing was right has changed and you have to start over well into your sixties?

I don’t know Caitlyn personally but I am damn sure that she didn’t do all this to ‘stick it’ to the Armed Forces and say “Yea, what you do is cool and all, but I just had my dick lopped off. Top that, Sam.”

I’m also not saying that what Caitlyn went through is braver than training your ass off for months, being taught the methods of battle and strategy of peace, and knowing your way around a plethora of weaponry. That marching head first into a hostile environment where the odds of coming out alive make buying a lottery ticket look like a sure win are less worthy of front page news than the patriarch of one of the most publicized families of our generation completely reinventing himself because that’s what happiness means to him (now her).

To compare these two events would be like saying the invention of the wheel is more important than a baby’s first steps, which doesn’t make any sense and is totally inarguable because they are two very different cussing things.

Let me break this down:

Bruce Jenner — 1976 Montreal Olympics Gold Medal Winner in the Decathlon and world-record setter in points with 8618, breaking the prior world record of 8524, set also by Jenner a year earlier — Had the highest recorded mark in the discus throw with 50.04m — Granted title of ‘World’s Greatest Athlete’, a title bestowed on the winner of the Decathlon — 1976 Associated Press Male Athlete of the Year — National Track and Field Hall of Fame Inductee, Class of 1980 — Olympic Hall of Fame Inductee, Class of 1986 — Appeared on the front of Wheaties breakfast cereal — Has been married three times, has six children

The name Jenner has become synonymous with spotlight, even before this transition, because of his last marriage, to Kris Kardashian, and the subsequent TV show bearing the latter’s last name.

Whether you know Caitlyn, or Bruce, as an Olympic athlete, a Razzie-nominated actor, an American hero, a doting, sometimes temperamental husband (or at least edited to look that way), or the namesake of Bruce Jenner Aviation, you know the last name of Jenner. Whether he liked it or not, that was where he was and had been for nearly 35 years.

But now, he had to face all of that, everything that he was known for and everything that he had made for himself in his life, the family he made, the life he established, the image he sculpted, and trade it all in for ‘her’. But ‘her’ meant happiness and truth in his, now her, life. And that is something we are all guaranteed at birth.

So why do we get to judge?

I don’t judge someone walking out of the food store with arms loaded full of Little Debbie products because that makes them happy. I don’t judge people blasting Kanye because that puts them in a good mood. So why do we reserve the right for ourselves to judge someone else that does something that makes them happy?

And Caitlyn is no more or no less courageous than the men and women protecting our freedom and country overseas or other servicemen and women in other countries doing the same damn thing for their home. She is courageous in a different way. As it takes courage to strap an AK-47 to your chest and lead the charge into enemy territory, Caitlyn is leading her own charge into a foray of domestic enemies that think what she is doing is wrong or disgusting or non-Christian (which is a whole separate rant). She is her own soldier with her own army fighting their own war.

And I realize that the Military probably didn’t publish this meme and the odds that a member of the Military published it could go either way. But if it were a picture of a firefighter marching into the jaws of a 5-alarm or a cop about to enter a drug lord’s den, then this post would have different subject matter, but it didn’t. So, unfortunately, the Military, depicted in the meme, is getting the brunt. And honestly, sorry I’m not sorry.

So plug your judgement yaps, and I’m talking to the people that judge soldiers for doing their job as well. When were we given the power to judge people for doing what is true to them? Shakespeare said, ‘to thine own self be true.’ I will add, ‘To thine own self be true and leave thine neighbor the cuss alone.’

As I take one more glance at this meme that someone could’ve used that time to play with their kid, all I can say is this:

At least they said ‘please,’ right?

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.