If you think about it, we all begin Life on Earth after a protracted period of Water Survival.
Photo via Flickr, lunar caustic, CC BY-SA 2.0
Sure, sure, when you’re a fetus the water is balmy and occasionally they play Mozart in the pool. But you can’t knock a fetus’s breath holding record, now can you? What was yours last time you did pool training? Was it 9 months? And at the end of it, did you just bob like a big, doughy man-pontoon buoyantly to the surface or did you, like a fetus, get flushed down the drain hole, slapped till you screamed and then circumcised? So yeah, a fetus is tougher than you when it comes to amphibious operational readiness.
But after we eject, we turn into big babies.
Photo via Flickr, Ellie Nakazawa, CC BY-SA 2.0
And we cry when they give us baths. We cry when they give us haircuts. We cry when they remove the kitten’s head from our mouths. We turn into babies and babies are wimps.
Water Survival, then, is just an easy way for the military to remind us soft adults how to be hard again. Hard like a fetus. It’s how they take us back to our Original Toughness, like when we did nine month tours of duty guarding the subterranean door to Fort Uterus.
You’ve probably caught the drift of the incontinents here, but Max was Captain of that particular detail. And we’re gonna tell you all about it, as soon as he puts you through some dryland drills designed to get your core up to code. Because this is stage 1 of Operation Fetal Preparedness.
Stage 2 is when things get real. Real moist.
Watch as Max gives your flight response an epidural, in the video embedded at the top.