Chronology: The Original Endeavor of Endeavors to Success (Adults Only)

  1. The following are a work of science fiction.
    The Original Endeavor Has Begun
  2. An Open Letter to The Fighting Aged Males & Military Aged Males of Safety Harbor & Pinellas County, Florida
  3. Air Water Food War
  4. The US Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) Is Currently A Swamp of Human Inadmissibility, & It’s Running Our Veterans into Oblivion!
  5. The Warrior Conclusion
  6. On Veterans’ Day 2018, I Woke Up
  7. To The Brother Who Initially Asked Me What Happened to Me at The Hospital & What I Said That Caused Me to Be Placed into A VA Hospital Psychiatric Ward,
  8. “Simon Says:” So-Called Consultant & Big Brain Simon Sinek Believes That Corporations Are Supposed to Help The Millennial Generation “Finish Growing Up” By Creating More Social Experiments
  9. Dear Communism, What Part of “I Don’t Need to Produce Divorce Paperwork Because We Never Married in The First Place” Did You Not Understand?
  10. “STOP WATCHING PORN!” or Operation Kill Fee: Why The Pornographic Industry Has Direct Ties to 19th Century Slave Trade Tactics, Techniques, & Procedures (TTPs)
  11. Sunday Afternoon News Conference With The Entire Planet: Veteran Suicides Are A Symptom of A Cause Called World War Three Which Has Already Been Raging For Over 30 Years. That Is Not An Excuse to Disarm Americans or Anyone Else Either!
  12. Self Portrait: Kakazu Ridge Revisited (77th Infantry Division Living History Reenacting on the island of Okinawa, Japan)
  13. The US Department of Veterans Affairs Claims Yet Another Life By Proxy
  14. Goodbye, Facebook. Goodbye Again.
  15. Endeavors to Success Video Special: Controlled Chaos
  16. Dissociative Closure
  17. When Gold Makes A Man Feel Like Dirt: The “Gold Standard” Treatments of The US Department of Veterans Affairs Have A High Failure Rate
  18. The Gift of Preserving The Memory of An Unknown Veteran’s Life & Sacrifice With Their Funeral Flag
    ———

Happy Birthday: How You Play Is Who You Are

With love,
E Julius Hauser

The Gift of Preserving The Memory of An Unknown Veteran’s Life & Sacrifice With Their Funeral Flag

(If you’re going to do something that could be mistaken as nothing more than virtue signaling, make sure the signal is something that truly holds virtue, virtue for those who came and sacrificed before us on behalf of our own people.)

It was three years in the making since I promised my neighbor a flag for the Holidays.  Each year before this one, some circumstance had always gotten in the way of trying to do good by a fellow American who lives in my neighborhood.

The home he and his family live in was previously occupied by a United States Air Force veteran who maintained a flagpole in the front yard.  That veteran served in the Korean War, and since he moved away, my neighbor hasn’t flown a flag on that pole.

In times past, this would have caused great frustration and anger for me, but in recent times, I have come to realize that perhaps my neighbor was never fully shown or taught the importance of our country’s flag, or even how or when to properly fly it, throughout his life.  I have since realized these are good teaching moments, and something that can instill a bond between the people who served and those people whose rights, freedoms, and lives they served to protect.

Last month, I ventured to ask if my local Veterans of Foreign Wars of The United States (VFW) Post could assist me in acquiring an American made American flag for my neighbor for the Holidays.  What I got from VFW Post 10093 in Safety Harbor, Florida is a veteran’s funeral internment flag.

Provided free of charge from the United States Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) during an official military burial, this flag is presented to the next of kin of a veteran who has passed away.  My VFW Post has been accepting a good amount of flags needed for proper disposal, but the Post has also been receiving these brand new flags from families of dead veterans.

I am unsure of the circumstances of how or why, but this flag was given away by the unknown veteran’s family.  Not to be improper, I wanted to know if it was appropriate to allow this flag to unfold once more and fly freely on American soil.  After some research, to include looking at the United States Flag Code, particularly its interpretation from The American Legion, I found that there was nothing stating that flying an internment flag was improper.  I also found that the VA has an official program throughout the country, where veterans can donate their flags in their last will and testament so that the VA can fly those flags during designated Holidays and other functions on VA properties all across America.  In particular, this function occurs at our country’s National Cemeteries quite often.

So why not set that precedent in one’s own village, in one’s own neighborhood, with the help of a neighbor, a previous neighbor and veteran who installed a flagpole to support this activity, and someone like me (or maybe even someone like you)?

So I got the flag ready on my grandmother’s dining room table.

I made sure this flag’s folds were tight as though it were presented to the unknown family of the unknown veteran just yesterday.  After 0100 hours (1am) on the morning of 26 December 2018, with my usual insomnia giving me its usual abuse, I penned a short and honest letter from my heart, by my own hand, to my neighbor and his family across the street.

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(Transcript of my hand written letter:

26 December, 2018
Neighbor,

As previously promised, here is a very special American flag for Christmas and Yule.  The flag is a veteran funeral internment flag.  A dead veteran’s family came to my VFW Post, VFW Post 10093 in Safety Harbor, and gave away their flag.
I do not know the circumstances behind why the flag was given away, but needless to say, one of two things would have happened to this flag: it would have collected dust forever until disintegration, or it would have been properly disposed of before reaching that point.  Either way, the flag’s importance would have been forgotten.

Either way, the memory of the American veteran would have been forgotten.

Neighbor, I ask that you receive this flag in honor, and fly it during national holidays, especially on Memorial Day, the 4th of July, and Veterans’ Day.  If you need help with anything related to flying this flag, never hesitate to knock on our home’s front door across the street.  Merry Christmas.  Happy Yule.
Your neighbor at 1715,
Eric, [signature])

With the letter finished, I folded it and slipped it into the folds where the spent rifle ammunition shells from the unknown veteran’s funeral previously laid in state.

I quietly marched across the street at quick time with flag in my hands, respectfully placed the flag onto my neighbor’s porch, rendered the flag a courteous salute, marched back across the street to my own home, my arms swinging with each marching step in the crisp winter breeze.  I closed my family’s front door, and sat down to write this article.

Merry Christmas and Happy Yule, America.  I’m going to try to get some sleep now.

-EJH

When Gold Makes A Man Feel Like Dirt: The “Gold Standard” Treatments of The US Department of Veterans Affairs Have A High Failure Rate

Although at a glance, this may seem like a negative thing to share on Christmas, I want to share this with anyone dealing with mental health issues because I am accepting the information as a positive thing.
 
I consider it a positive thing partly because I know that I am not alone, and partly because those of us who have dealt with the VA feel alone when things somehow get worse instead of better.
 
It would appear that something the VA attempted to put me through (the PE treatment program) has a high failure rate, with many reports of symptoms of service connected PTSD getting much more severe following the entrance into treatment.
 
For me, the treatment barely lasted 3 sessions, and already my symptoms had worsened more than I had ever experienced them before. The doctor I had provided me inadequate equipment to perform the treatment, and subsequently broke our contract after taking my episodes personally. She quickly transferred me into a substance abuse program, which did not make sense because I was not dealing with any immediate substance abuse issues.
 
The issues that surround all of that are a whole other story, but word has it from the Bay Pines VA Medical Center Patient Advocacy Office that the doctor trying to perform PE on me has since left the VA on less than satisfactory terms.
 
Needless to say, I almost became another suicide or equally bad statistic partly because I had been a statistic of a program that has a very high treatment failure rate. I take this information in a positive manner because I felt alone and I felt like a bigger failure than ever before; I thought it was simply “me,” but it turns out that it wasn’t “just me.”
 
Read more here to learn another perspective from a veteran who went through a similar experience:
 

-EJH

Dissociative Closure

(This message was originally posted to Facebook before I wised up, and transplanted my intellectual property to my own digital living space.)

Dissociative Closure.
 
Bottom Line Up Front: I don’t dissociate for attention.
 
I have a lot of people who seem to think I have problems with this part of my personality, like I can’t seem to grasp this, as though I have a massive ego, or I am autistic, or “socially retarded” as some people have suggested in the past.
 
Please stop interpreting it that way when dealing with someone like me.
 
The truth is that I dissociate out of necessity. I dissociate for the purpose of survival, and I dissociate for the safety of those around me who are too incapable or unwilling to accept that they’re abusive toward others, even when they think they’re being kind.
 
Most people, I gather, don’t mean to be the way they are when they’re being hurtful, or otherwise ridiculous to the point that it affects others immensely. I know this firsthand, because I too can be that way.
 
However, no matter the reason, it’s still abuse, and I am very sensitive to it, to the point that if I absorb too much of it, I myself become abusive, which I am so sick and tired of doing to others.
 
It’s abuse, but many times these people being abusive, myself included, are very innocent because abuse is all they know in a time when abuse seems to be the constant agenda.
 
Remember: nobody, not even you, asked to be born, but it happened.
 
Remember: nobody, not even you, asked to be exposed to the things that you were exposed to, for good or bad, since the moment you were born. Unless you’re a weirdo like me, and sign your name on a dotted line, and swear an oath that you’ll bathe in your own spilled blood on behalf of others if necessary.
 
We’re living in a time right now that makes me want to cry so hard that I won’t be able to stop crying, so that’s why I haven’t allowed myself to cry for years. That, and I’m a man, and men are apparently not supposed to cry.
 
I feel the weight of these emotions from the pit of my stomach, and it’s so bad that it has actually affected my physiology. The US Department of Veterans Affairs will deny that supposedly crazy statement all day long, but ask any martial arts instructor who works with people like me, and they can actually quantify what I am talking about right now.
 
Abuse, both self abuse and abuse from others, will actually affect one’s anatomy and physical health to include posture.
 
Abuse comes in many forms, but one thing is for certain: people like me are very tuned in to what abuse looks like, feels like, sounds like, and what comes of it.
 
Whether it’s the abuse just about everyone sees in childhood these days, or what a lot of young men and women end up being exposed to in these wars our government is finally trying to end after almost 30 straight years of what is called The Gulf War Era; whatever the case, abuse is so commonplace that many people are simply exhausted to the facts they are highly aware of, and they just navigate through it, numb, dissociative, or worse: they wear a mask.
 
We are so aware, but after years of being exposed to it, we no longer seem to want to change course, and instead just accept some form of abuse or suffering.
 
I never liked wearing a mask, but I also never liked being abused. I also hate being abusive, so lately, I just try to stay the course, alone. I do this because I am so used to witnessing abuse everywhere I go, that I can barely get a hold of the inner child inside me who was alive and well before I left for the Army.
 
The inner child is starving, he is hurt, he needs water, he needs warmth, he needs food, he needs a bath, he needs a bond only the opposite sex can provide, he needs… well… he needed… a haircut.
 
If I allow myself to be exposed to abuse around me too much, and the frivolousness that comes from people I try to talk to about this sort of thing becomes too great in addition to the abuse, I very frequently find myself becoming the master of abuse because I am so well versed in feeling and seeing it. I lash out.
 
If I’m going to be good at something, I’m gonna be the best, and when I feel like I’m under threat, I will be the best at defending myself, no matter the cost. Unfortunately, as many have said in the past: if all a young man is given is a hammer, everything will look like a nail.
 
So instead, I dissociate. I’m just sort of floating most days, navigating through nothingness, but that doesn’t mean I have to join everyone else and just accept “some” form or “level” of abuse in order to “succeed” in life, and be a part of “somethingness” that requires an unnecessary layer of pain.
 
I did that whole pain thing on behalf of others for quite some time. A lot of young people have done the same. Some still did it for decades, and in recent times, with a celebrity status, those venerable elders are finally retiring from public service to this country.
 
Whether or not they choose to stop enduring unnecessary pain is up to them, but quite frankly, I’m done. If that makes me less rich, less “valid,” less “relevant,” less “respected,” less “qualified,” and less of “a man” for the rest of my life: well then fine. However, see how far you get to my front door or my face if you try to force me to accept more pain for some agenda. I hope you packed a lunch.
 
The truth is that I’m not going to stop taking things personally, no matter how petty some people think that statement is.
 
This is my life.
 
Your life is your life too.
 
We don’t get to take any of this with us when we die.
 
Maybe we do, but I’m not willing to risk or gamble with that notion in order to justify me being the recipient of more and more abuse just to get to the top of some hierarchy of needs.
 
We have to stop telling ourselves that we have to put up with abuse, disrespect, and all manner of terrible treatment, to include what we actively ignore. It’s still there, whether you like it or not, and it’s time to stop tolerating it. We need to stop accepting and tolerating behavior that flies directly in the face of natural laws of man and nature, or the abuse will continue.
 
If one disagrees, I must inform them that the only other option is to continue absorbing the abuse day after day, little by little, even in its tiniest form, even if someone is “just joking,” and then, as happened between me and one of my best friends today, in some horrible sort of way, we find ourselves vomiting that abuse onto someone we love dearly.
 
It’s disgusting, and I assure you that the best way to prevent this is to dissociate from abuse, to include self abuse.
 
Unfortunately, as of right now, that means, especially if you find yourself surrounded by abusive people in an abusive society, you’re going to feel and actually be very alone for a while. It’s going to be this way until your mind can rewire itself to identify loving and decent people who are most likely suffering through this just like you.
 
Meanwhile, there will be very lonely people out there trying to do the same, and chances are high that they will have your best interests taken to heart because they feel what you feel, and only hope for the same peace in your heart that their heart is trying to seek.
 
Take the gun OUT of your mouth.
Put the liquor bottle you’re drinking all by yourself DOWN. Keep the pills IN the cabinet.
Keep the razor blades IN the drawer.
 
Stop abusing yourself whether emotionally, sexually, socially, professionally, or otherwise, and just hold on one more day.
 
As some of us with a certain white colored key chain might say when it comes to surviving: Just for today.
 
As some of us with a certain white colored chip or coin might say: To thine own self be true.
 
It’s going to take a while, but eventually, you will find others like you. The abusive people too trapped in self, outward, and inward abuse will take notice of these connections. They will then be left with choices: abuse you for being different, or join you for being true to yourself.
 
In the Army, we called this leading by example. It’s the same concept here, but just like in the Army, don’t be a bit surprised if many people instead choose to do their own thing, in this case continuing to abuse self and others, and hurt themselves and others.
 
Until then, until you find other kindred souls, don’t feel bad about dissociating.
 
Don’t feel bad about immersing yourselves in history, nature, natural history, and other pursuits, or endeavors, that don’t necessarily require high levels of human interaction in abusive forms. Don’t make the mistakes that I have been making, and just barrel your way through these abusive people with full kindness.
 
I am sorry to say, but you cannot actually “kill people with kindness.” It doesn’t work. They’re mixed up, angry, always unfortunate in their words and actions, and no matter how loving or kind you are, any older mother or grandmother will tell you (if you still actually pay attention to elderly women, for God’s sake), that throwing love at people who cannot or will not accept it or reciprocate it is very dangerous.
 
Any older man with a family he’s had to defend and tend to with his life will tell you the same.
 
It’s getting late, but please know that I don’t just “go off the grid.” Truth be told, I cannot stand social media. It’s one of the worst possibly conceived gifts and simultaneous curses our world has ever devised in this era, especially when we let ourselves believe that it’s “free.”
 
If you ever want to contact me in earnest, I ask that you please use the “mailbox,” or Contact feature, at my own piece of “internet real estate.” My website is my actual “internet house with white picket fence” over at Endeavors to Success.
 
I would rather we chat there, instead of here on social media.
 
I actually pay a large sum of money to “own” that part of the internet, and keep it advertising free (no, I don’t need your money right now… that isn’t what this is about). Whereas social media will just censor us all while making money off of our free labor known as “freelance writing” or “independent contribution,” I will just respond to your email without anything else.
 
Life is not a dress rehearsal.
 
I wish you all a happy night, at a time of year that is special for very many of you. I have to be alone now.
 
-EJH

Goodbye, Facebook. Goodbye Again.

No but really… I’ve seen enough of Facebook, and to Hell with people trying to convince me and others that this is the appropriate platform to conduct real world business and real world relationships in a world where people have made it clear they are trying to destroy the planet with real, unregulated violence by way of this website.

“Oh look. Tyrants operating in plain sight. Whatever shall we do? Oh I know… we’ll ‘talk about it’ on social media.”

Nothing has changed on Facebook since the last time I was “here” at this “place” that does not actually exist except in our imaginations. One flip of the switch, and the United States Department of Defense can make this place go bye bye, or did we forget that the entire internet is still a weaponized American military asset that belongs to the US federal government?

The “social engineering” has only gotten more tyrannical on this website, the people are even more lazy toward tyranny, and when roaming the real world, every other fucking shithead working a 9-5 job wants to give me an attitude when I’m trying to do business with them and go on with my actual life off the internet, but I’m made to wait until they detach their fucking attention from their “smart device” as they “feed” on their Facebook “feed” while getting paid to do a job that has nothing to do with playing with a “smart device” as though it’s an adult baby pacifier.

I’m already done fucking off on this GOD damned website while I’m trying to cultivate a real life in the real world away from a Department of Defense military asset.

Any time we use social media, we are SOMEONE ELSE’S SLAVE. Don’t believe me?

Every little tiny fucking thing you’re doing here is making someone else money at OUR expense, and the creator of this place already made it clear that he has no respect for law, natural or man-made. If the Congressional hearing was not enough to convince someone, I don’t want to talk to them anymore, or ever again.

In California, your government is now trying to TAX YOU for every time your SKIN TOUCHES GLASS ON YOUR SMART DEVICE, to include “talking” on social media.

Unless that motherfucker Zuckerberg has some nice big fat Royalties check in the mail for all of us, maybe my mind may be changed, but even then, I don’t want his actual blood money he makes off human suffering that gets paraded all over this website, all while he does things like create cartoon character representations of himself and his “friends” so he can go “visit” natural disaster locations.

This bullshit is not enhancing my life at all. This website is already causing disturbance in my life even when I put forth positive energy. I put in positive energy, I get negative feedback, and I don’t fucking appreciate it, or the negativity my real life friends are subjected to on a daily basis all because this is “the best way to keep in touch.”

I’M FUCKING OVER IT.

People are already trying to use me, get me to do a bunch of elaborate shit for free, get me to emotionally respond to things that will then give them the opportunity to fuck up my life, give them money for shit I don’t need, and provide things to me I don’t need that will just complicate my life or quite literally get me killed.

Nah. No. Fuck no. Bye, Facebook. AGAIN.

If you wanna talk to me, send me a message here. My family’s landline telephone number ain’t changed for 30 fucking years.

The US Department of Veterans Affairs Claims Yet Another Life By Proxy

I will not stop. I will not shut up. I don’t care how many times someone tries to throw me into a psych ward to “calm me down” or whatever they want to characterize it as being. This is by design.

I even shaved my fucking face, and cut off over two years of hair just to prove to people how serious I am about this. Quit fucking with us. Quit fucking with veterans.

It feels like the US government has declared war on its own veterans by way of bureaucratic garbage, and if World War One veterans were still alive today, they’d tell you that this isn’t the first time.

This is garbage that is built and carefully layered and politically discussed, covered in mainstream media, and all while it’s happening as a tidy little distraction, the government keeps the American public in the dark about the next manufactured conflict that will kill and maim even more of us for some “cause” that doesn’t seem to reflect anything remotely related to American liberty.

Meanwhile, the wrong people profit from it, and foreign and non state actors gain more and more power on the backs of our warriors. No, Rome was not built in a day, but the Germanic Barbarians could and did finally sack it when enough was enough.

Veterans, get the pill bottles out of your cabinets, get the guns out of your mouths, get the liquor bottles out of your hands, turn off the pornography, put down the drugs, cut your hair, shave your faces, and get your effects in order. It’s time to do work.

If the government can exacerbate and prolong a “not real” war against ideas all over the world for almost 30 years (The Gulf War Era), what makes you think those same people who made it happen won’t do the same damn thing to our veterans who were compelled to fight that foreign war, but right here on American soil?

It’s time to get strong. It’s time to get healthy. It’s time to make ready once more.

To quote a well known fictional character who also spent time in the American Special Operations Community: they drew first blood, not me.

Remarks complete. -EJH