There is no happy ending to a war. The memories live on, in minds and culture and art and music and political dialog forever.
War is a permanent scar on the face of our social experiment.
I have been discussing war. I have decided to have my mind set for the worst, which is by no means hypothetical at the moment. It is amazing what one discovers in oneself in a situations like this. Suddenly things are not as clear cut as they seem to someone out of the corner.
Living with a big brother who has a temper is not always easy. One must refrain from thoughtless commentary or hint of disrespect. Neither of which has been done in the recent years. It is of course a matter of moral decision. Do I interfere and let the bully see how wrong he is or shall I just be quiet and pray not to be seen? This has always been the case for us. My grandfather who will be 99 next month fought in the front line. And here we are again. Not to mention the…
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